This happened about 16 eld ago, when I was ten at the time. My first time was interesting, to say the least, but I only do because it was with my father, and I was so young. Although I remember a lot of it, there are still details that have become fuzzy, or forgotten, however there are still things that, even at that age become burnt into the creative thinker forever. I will do my in force to retell my outset prison term. 



Close to my ninth natal day, my mother left. She would often say how her living sucked. I remember that every prison term when I was around her, she'd be complaining about this and that, and it all revolved around her. She would often cheapen me in front of people, and in private. I was never allowed to be good, or achieve when she was around because it always had to be her who was best than everyone else. So, one day she left. No posting, or anything. In ulterior years I learned from my father that she left to Texas to be with some guy she met online. He found out because the man dumped her and she tried to crawl back to my Father of the Church, only to be rejected. He had found someone else by then. His son. 



I remember crying on my natal day, and most nights. I was vernal then and didn't understand what was going on, nor why I wasn't loved. That's how I felt, of course. Unloved, but he'd find ways to earn it up to me for her. talent, and more time spent with him, even head trip to post I wanted to go, but when she was around we couldn't. It was nice that we began to bond like that in the face of something negative, to construct a more plus kinship with my father. That changed, however, something unacquainted became something more.


One dark, around June, I remember, my father, who was pretty average out in height, about 5'10"and a slim chassis, though he did hold some muscleman from his employment. I don't remember what he did then, only that one day he came home early and then three months later and a new apartment after he found another job. Money was really tight in that full point, but love was always in an abundant supply, I made sure of that, even though I didn't quite grasp the concept of what could have happened had he remained idle. 



Anyway, on the night it began I had been ten for three months. We would normally watch television system together, whether it was a show for him, or me. I always liked watching the shows he liked because it was some sort of secret insider into my founder. I never really realise the programs, but I felt like an adult watching them with him. I would rest my school principal in his lap and he'd caress my hair, or impertinence until I fell asleep. This time, however, he had forgotten to take a few things out of his pant pocket on the second joint I would lay on and so it was uncomfortable. I just nuzzled my caput further in his lap, over his privates. It seemed innocent to me, because I didn't know anything about that. He didn't really handle, or aim observance, but as he continued to view television, I noticed a pernicious increment pressing upward against my cheek. I remember thinking it was a pretty big protuberance at the time, and kind of odd, but fun. I pressed against it with my head, nuzzling into it, again being innocent and rum. This made him groan, at the time I thought he was just making some unintelligible motion to the television. He caressed the English of my body from cheek to hip and then back up. My don then gently lifted my head and rested it back on his outer second joint, but noticing my discomfort, he let me lay on his bulging private parts again. I guess not having anyone so physically close, let alone bear upon such a sensible arena sparked an erection within him, even if he didn't mean it to.



I was a pretty singular kid at the time though, so I even reached underneath my brass, as if to catch one's breath my deal under my head and rubbed it gently, but very subtly. I squeezed and tried to feel what it was. It wasn't as jagged and uncomfortable as his wallet, which is what was in his pant pocket. It was soft, but still firm. He took note of this and promptly sat me next to him, he apologized and said something to the arcdegree that he wasn't tactile property well and it was probably unspoiled I didn't lay on him. I asked him what it was. I knew that was were boys phallus were, but his was so large and hard, I was used to just mine, small at the fourth dimension and rarely worth noticing when erect. I had an average member for kids at the time, at least that's what i idea because I didn't have anyone to compare it to.


He told me it was his penis, but i protested. I told him it felt so big. It was all so harmless, my aim, I remember. I know looking back he was probably pretty uncomfortable being getting an hard-on because of his son's touch and then having to find oneself some way to get it off his kid's intellect. His kid who was singular about it."Yours will be like it too, just when you're older."He told me, but as he did I reached out and touched his bulge again. I began to rub it as if I were trying to feel the synopsis of his cock. Trying to sustain what he was saying. My minor fingers found the zipper and I nearly drew them down when he took my helping hand away.


That was all for the Nox, he told me, but I was drawn to his crotch now. It was on my brain for the quietus of the night. I don't think back why exactly, maybe some inclination of homosexuality within me, or just child-like oddity, but I needed to see my father's stopcock to believe it. I wanted to see what my own member would look like when I got to his age. It quickly became an compulsion nearly overnight. I even thought of going into his sleeping accommodation when he slept, because I knew he slept in just his boxers. I would go in and see his penis, just see it. Nothing else. I didn't though.



The following evening, nothing had really transpired. Not like the last night, and even not between us. He was quiet down, and a little reclusive. He would ask me how schooltime was and if I needed aid with my maths prep, which was the sole class I had a knockout metre with. I had finished it early because I wanted to spend more than timber time with him, in his lap ; with my father's produce member. I felt a fiddling alone that nighttime, and the next few Nox. I think two, but maybe three. It ended when I woke up one evening and had to use the bathroom to pee. We had a lowly two bedroom apartment at the time with one lavatory, so when I got to the room access and opened it, he was in the exhibitor. I should have heard the stochasticity and seen the Light beneath the doorway, but I was preoccupied with needing to go that I just forgot the mankind around me. I'm still a pretty contemplative kid. You could give a ball at me and I wouldn't notice until after the pain kicked in.



The shower had a glass door, so it was foggy and slightly lucid. My Church Father was a little jolted, I think, but it was just his kid. He realized it was better I just go and then principal to bed than make water me wait. He told me it was all right when I apologized. My penis already out and going. I tried really hard while there to see him. It was foggy and there were very few clear sections where his work force, or other parts of his consistency touched the glass door. I could see the scheme of his mind and chest, even a niggling bit of his ass when he would move back toward the lavish head. I wanted him to release around so it would be a view of his penis that I could see instead.



Instead of finishing up and heading back to bed, I decided to ride out quiet and hold for him. I don't really know why I did this. It was just all on impulse and I remember my meat beating really unvoiced when the shower door opened and my father stepped through the visible light mist. He caught me early on, and stepped back in after reaching for a towel to breed himself up. My programme had been foiled by his decency. He apologized, and even scolded me a fiddling for not telling him I was still there. He should get realized the door never closed a second after I had come in. That's all hindsight though.



"I just wanted to see it. Is it really that big ?"I asked."Can I, daddy ? I just want to see."

He refused and sent me to my room. I didn't get to see him much for the next week before he started to nail down down and pass quality clock time with me again. One day he seemed his usual self and helped me with my math. I only had one president in my room so he let me sit in his lap so he could take care over and serve me. I liked it, not just because it was ontop of the one thing I had my psyche set on having, but because my papa was spending time with me again like he used to before this all started. Perhaps he just resigned me to being gay, or funny, or whatever and figured I was his son and all he had in his sprightliness. I don't really know, nor would I have at the time.



That night, which was a Friday, so school was out for the weekend, we found ourselves on the sofa by the television again. My headway resting on him thigh, with my hand wrapped around his thigh for more comfort. We were watching a cop show, I think it was a flick because it lasted longer than any show I remembered watching. Soon enough though I found myself growing tired, so I moved my chief about, trying to find the upright seat to really get comfortable and relief with my father. I decided to try his privates again. When I laid my foreland on it, it was monotone and soft, but a few second later, as I snugged into it to get comfortable, my Fatherhood was getting hard again. I could palpate that comrade gibbosity in his denim rising to satisfy the side of my headland. This time i began to purposely cuddle it and move my head like I couldn't get comfortable. I wanted to see how big it could get. I was also curious as it was moving, almost on its own. Pulsing. I can secern my beginner was trying to ignore this, but my natural action were unrelenting. My curiosity, to say the least, definitely got to the best of me.


Instead of pushing me aside, he just kept rubbing my short Brown haircloth and impertinence, even caressing my sides as he usually would. This time, however, his hand found itself down to my buttocks. I remember instinctively pressing back against his bombastic, warm, assuage touch when it reached my ass."pop,"I whispered."Yeah, son ?"He replied, straining to hold in a groan."It's so big. Can I just see it once ? I promise I won't look again."He seemed overcome. He let out a long sigh and said something I don't really recall what. I just remember that he also said,"mulct. Sit up."



I behaved for him because he was giving me something I had incidentally pestered him about. Something Logos shouldn't be curious about there fathers on. I was finally going to see my dad's peter, set up even. It felt as though meter slowed down when he unzipped his pants. He shuffled a trivial on the sofa and it seemed like such a stand-in to him when he parted the button of his jeans and let it hang unloose. I remember the image of his bulging grey bagger just burnt into my retentiveness. The sort so perfectly etched across thin fabric. I wanted to strive out and touch it, but he wasn't done. My father then slipped the cincture of his Boxer down beneath his large, wide bulls. I was equally affect with them as I was with the crown jewel above it. So tough, yet diffuse. It looked just like mine, circumcised except he had some fuzz at the base, and on his sac. That, and his was huge. His dick honestly is an mediocre 7, but to a ten year old boy, I remember it as a monster hammer. No one could convince me otherwise at the time.



I was instantly in making love with it. My oral fissure was in agape love in aw of that peter, my father's dick. I was even more surprised when a drop of this liquid like substance formed from the slit at the top. His precum."I like it."I said, not really certain what else to say. I mean, I had finally seen it, what was there to say ? I really did like seeing my father's phallus for the inaugural time. I even reached out and gently touched the al-Qa'ida of it, where his hand gripped to hold it straight up for me, then stopped where the beadwork of precum was sliding down the school principal of his cock. I think I was afraid to touch it, that, and he moved his script to take mine away, but for some reason he didn't. Not only was I seeing my father's penis for the low gear time, but I was touching it and he was letting me. My senses were on overuse. My intellect practically shut down. I was just enthralled with the bit. 



I don't know why he didn't motility my hand like he was going to. Perhaps finally having another homo being, albeit his ten year old son, touching his penis for the first sentence in probably a year awoken something in him. His cock throbbed, and more precum leaked from the incision. It even rolled onto my small hand as I began to pet his penis up and down. He even moved paw from the fundament to let me touch his Lucille Ball and have more of his cock to research. They felt so heavy, but I enjoyed the flexibility of his musket ball sack and rolling them in with my finger. I was just exploring with curiosity. This, after all my penis was going to be like this some day too. I was covetous, but all the Sami proud that I'd be just like my dada in this way. 



"Go ahead son,"he said and then took a drop-off of that precum onto the tip of his index finger finger's breadth and brought it to my lips. I took it into my mouth and sucked on his finger just enough to taste that slightly Sweet and piquant mix. I liked it. I told him so even, and he said if I wanted to, I could lick his penis. So, I did. I leaned down and began, from balls to tip to lick my father's unvoiced tool. I remember giggling when his balls rolled from my natural language and also giving the tip a kiss after receiving another drop cloth of precum to appreciation. I was so unrestrained that I bit his tool, gently, but it made him gasp and swat my lips away. He said to be gentle with it, not to use my dentition. If I was going to exact it in my mouth, that I should suck in, not bite. 



So, here I was, ten years old and alone with my father on the couch suction slowly on the head of his penis. It was huge and hard to take in at first, but I managed. It tired me out pretty quickly, but I really enjoyed it. He would groan and I would suckle on his cock more because of it. I liked being capable to please my father like this. I couldn't take him in too late, only about an inch, and even then I doubt I was great, but he treated me like I was a pro. Caressing my chin and cheeks. Encouraging me. He even slipped his firm paw into my trouser and began to caress the tip of his fingers along my petty boy hole. I stopped sucking when I felt this, but it wasn't a bad spirit and he didn't prod into me, just rub. I felt like I was receiving a warm gift for sucking on his dick, so I just kept sucking and licking. 



When my tongue was tracing the curvature of the enceinte venous blood vessel that runs down the center of my begetter's dick, it began to pulse and he moaned louder, groaning with the cryptic vocalism I had ever heard from him. He was cumming. I was so shocked and yet elated. I wasn't really ready for it, nor knew what was happening. This white thick emollient blastoff onto my case and hair's-breadth, and some dripping down his cock. I thought it was like pre-cum so I licked at the tip as he was cumming, but the gustatory sensation was a little more sour than I would have wanted. I swallowed what was in my mouth, but opted not to nark with the rest. I remember thinking of stinky fish when I tasted his cum. Salty didn't come to mind, but that would accept been a better description. 



He slouched down and didder the rest of the cum from his stopcock, most of it landing on my face as I licked at his right testicle. I don't know what he said, but he chuckled and wiped the cum from my cheek. After his penis began to drop off, he pulled his pugilist and pant back up and helped clean house me up. He then thanked me, kissed me on the lips and said that he loved his son and wished me a practiced night, sweet dreams, the unharmed ordeal. He did that every night, but tonight was extra. At to the lowest degree I felt it was. 



That was my first experience. Not my cobbler's last at a young age, and certainly not the last with my father, but I just, I guess I needed to get that out finally. Thank you for tolerating my story. Finally, I 'd wish to say that I do n't condone sexual human action between youth and grownup. This story was just my personal experience .