Juvenile Sexuality by Jim Stanley Ch.13
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Juvenile Sexuality by Jim Stanley Ch.13Juvenile SexualityByJim StanleyChapter 13Teen CrisisI was s*******n when I graduated from high school. My father turned 69. Icame home one day to find a bereaved father in tears. My mother died froma sudden stroke. I put my arms around him and held him close for whatseemed hours. We both loved her very much, he in a deep and specialway. But it was because of her death that my life would change radically atthis time. I loved my father deeply in his crisis and vowed to stay closeto him. An opportunity to go to college came, but I chose to attend localschools to attain my degree, just to be near my father. Five years went byand I received my degree at age 22. My father turned 74 and, more so nowthan ever, I was determined to stay near him. I searched for ways ofseeking employment locally and chanced upon a once in a lifetimeopportunity. I had always had an interest in baking and a local bakerretired, offering his business for sale. I talked it over with my Dad, andhe was excited by this prospect. I detected relief from knowing that Iwould be with him and close. He added, “That would give me the chance towork with you in the bakery and we could make a go of it, perhaps adding acoffee shop to it.” I sensed his excitement and we decided to invest inthe business. As luck would have it, we prospered.After my mother’s death, my Dad languished for several months. Idid everything I could to console him and, gradually, he began to come outof his depression. Somewhere in this period, I suggested moving my bedinto his room so as to be near him. He seemed to like that idea. Therewere times during this period when he would have depressing dreams andnightmares and I would leave my bed and crawl in with him and hold himclosely. He never objected to this and allowed me to massage his chest andface in a loving way. Often he would say, “Son, I love you very much.” Iwould always respond, “Dad, my love for you is the same. I can’t begin toshow you the depth of that love.” He would sigh, nod and smile and I wouldcontinue with our embrace and massage. The dreams were always related tomy mother. In time, these subsided and normalcy in his tuzla escort sleep returned.During the night, I would often hear him and see him in the dimness of thenight-light, massaging his cock and testicles. Once, I woke and lookedover to see the silhouette of my father’s naked body and hard cock. Hisright hand moved slowly and rhythmically up and down his hard shaft and Idesperately wanted to go over to him and love him from head to foot. Also,since we were alone in the house, we often observed each other nude.Seeing him this way, always excited me. My eyes drank every inch of hisbody, the gray hair on his chest, the graying around his cock and balls,the gentle feet, the swaying of his uncut cock, the softness of hisbuttocks, the slightly protruding paunch covered with the softness of thegray hair.My mother was in the habit of washing his back when he took a bath.One day, while taking a bath, he called “Stan, would you come in here andwash my back for me. I miss having your mother do that.” I needed noother motivation for that and it became a standard daily practice. At thistime, too, he suggested reciprocating the act. My usual practice whenwashing his back was to have him kneel in the tub. I would lather his backand ass with soap and gently wash and massage him. As my hands came to hisass, I would massage the cheeks of his ass tenderly, paying close attentionto his exposed and relaxed asshole. In washing, I would playfully wash hisasshole, inserting one finger, then two, sometimes three into his hole, andwash in a fucking motion, gently, steadily, rhythmically. My washing wouldcontinue down to his balls, which I would knead gently in my hands. Hiscock always responded to these actions, but, at that time, we chose topretend to ignore these erections or semi erections. When it was my timefor a bath, he would often enter in his boxer shorts and, more or less,replicate my washing of him. He gave special attention to my hole andwould often linger long and tenderly here. His fingers toyed expertly withit. Sometimes, he’d insert his thumb, his other fingers massaging the baseof my balls and recessed cock. He’d move it in and out in a fuckingmotion. He alternated tuzla escort bayan with his index finger, first one, then two, thenthree. Once he inserted four and part of his thumb and commented, “Tell meif I’m hurting you. I want to be gentle.” My response was always, “NoDad, you’re doing fine. I feel only your gentleness.” I liked to thinkthat he remembered my sitting on his cock while he pretended sleep on thesofa and judged this to be something I liked. Indeed, I did. Severaltimes, hunched over this way, I shot into the water as he probed my hotasshole and massaged my balls. I wanted to scream my enjoyment at thesetimes, but constrained my joy to a whimper and sigh as signs ofappreciation. I would always see his hard cock protruding from his boxershorts as well as visible wetness seeping through the left leg of hisshorts.When finished, we would always towel each other’s back. Once, Isuggested rubbing some lotion on his back after a bath. He replied, “I wasgoing to ask you about that. Sometimes my back feels a little itchyafterwards.” Then that became routine for him as well as me. We would goto his bed and he would lie on his stomach, a towel underneath him. Wewould both strip down to our shorts when massaging. Later this wouldchange. I would usually begin by massaging his upper torso. I would beginwith the back of his neck, relaxing the spine. Then I would proceed to hisback, using long strokes that went from his shoulders to the base of hisbuttocks and balls. I would massage and knead the muscles of his ass,allowing my fingers to roam freely in the crack of his ass. Usually, hiscock and balls were perpendicular to his legs, and, as I massaged hisbuttocks, his cock and balls were clearly visible between his outstretchedlegs. Then I would move down his legs to his thighs, his calves, and hisfeet. Normally, I would linger around his thighs, allowing my fingers toroam freely over the visible parts of his cock and balls. At his feet, Iwould massage the soles and each of the toes gently, allowing my hands toroam from his feet, up his calves, to his thighs. Then I would have himturn on his back. Inevitably, his cock and mine were semi-erect. I’dbegin, escort tuzla as before, massaging his upper torso. I’d massage his face andcheekbones, then his chest. On his chest, I would use long strokes fromhis shoulders to his cock and balls, putting gentle pressure on the base ofhis cock as I approached it. He seemed to like having his nipplesmassaged. I would alternate between a full palm rubbing of his nipples toa gentle kneading of the nipple between my fingers. Sometimes, gettingcarried away, I would knead the nipple firmly and he would respond with asigh, the unspoken symbol of his and my satisfaction. I would proceed downhis legs from the front, giving his thighs close attention and then work myway down the calves to his feet. Last, I would move back to his cock andballs. I would knead his balls gently with both hands, massaging, at thesame time, the recessed part of his cock that ran from the base of his cockto his asshole. Invariably, his cock would harden and I would take itfirmly between both hands and massage it gently. Always, the droplets ofpre-cum would appear and I would take swipe at them with my fingers andtaste. I could do this since, most often, my father’s eyes were closed.But I would never bring him to an ejaculation at this time. That, too,would change.As I mentioned, he would reciprocate these actions with me. But headded touches of his own. When massaging me, he would kneel over me.Often, he would let his hard cock and low hanging balls slide over my lowerbody and massage the droplets of pre-cum from his cock into my body. SinceI tended to keep my eyes closed, he experimented, too. Once, whilemassaging my asshole with his fingers, I detected a subtle change inpressure and fingering. I judged it to be his cock. He had inserted thehead into my asshole and pretended as if it were his thumb. I felt hiscockhead spread my asshole gently, slowly, tenderly, and felt the wetnessincrease with the pre-cum lubricating my hot hole.Another time, as I lay on my back and he massaged my cock andballs, I detected another change in technique. I managed to squint at hisdoings, and his tongue searched for the juices that emanated from my hotcock. His technique was to lick and squeeze my cock in the massage. Eachtime he squeezed, more pre-cum spilled from my hot cock.And so went our life after my mother’s death. This was to changedrastically in the days to come.
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