It started with a bath before bed. It was more like a sprinkler, really; Greg could shut the garage, get the hose, and let Steven run around while he held it. He wasn’t even seven, and he didn’t care about being naked in front of his old man anyway.
In his bathing suit, Greg would sit Steven down on the stool in front of him, soaking the boy with the loose hose, matting down that mess of black hair. Then came the shampoo – two-in-one with the body wash – and Steven would sit happily as Greg scrubbed his scalp and his back, rubbing down the pinkness of his skin, perfect and rosy and without so much as a mole. Sometimes, when Steven needed more pampering, he’d climb up into his father’s lap, and Greg would rub down his thighs and shins, making the boy laugh as his dad rubbed between his toes.
How much would it be to install a real bathroom? How much for some privacy? But they had the van, and after wrapping up his son in a towel, Greg would carry him back and get him all dried off before putting on his nightclothes.
Steven held on to Greg’s shoulders, then stepped into the fresh briefs before Greg pulled them up around Steven’s thighs. As he got the rest of his pajamas together, Greg gathered his things and excused himself to the restroom.
It started with one touch. Greg shut and locked the door, with his son’s safety only in the back of his mind. Nobody came by the car wash, not even the Gems, and Steven might even be asleep by the time he came back. The trunks would hit the ground, and Greg sat on top of the toilet seat looking down at his shameful erection. It was a miracle that Steven hadn’t felt and asked about it. Or worse, maybe he had.
The first night that Greg masturbated to his son, he rubbed gently, shamefully, as if Steven might come in and see him and hate him for something he wouldn’t even understand. Greg’s cock throbbed, urging him on, and the man’s shaky hand came down to stroke himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he masturbated; he couldn’t even remember the last time he came. after fifteen nervous, horrible minutes, Greg opened his eyes to see that he had shot as far as the bathroom door, leaving a trail of thick white slime over the tile leading to his feet, his bathing suit, the edge of the toilet seat, and the little white globules dripping down onto his balls.
Each night after was much easier. It was a ritual. Steven would run around, and then Greg would grab him and lift the laughing, ignorant child into his lap and hold him tightly. The man laughed along and squeezed the slippery boy, soaping him everywhere, his heart skipping a beat each time he glanced that spot between his child’s legs. Steven would dress, Greg would masturbate in private, and they would come back to sleep together under one blanket, two during cold nights.
Greg opened his eyes. It had been a month since he started being more aggressive, less mechanical in his approach. Steven hadn’t noticed a thing wrong with what his father had doing, nothing out of the ordinary. It was late at night, right before bedtime. Greg was feeling the warm water run through his fingers from the hose. The door was closed, leaving just the two of them in the garage.
The man raised his head suddenly, as if he was coming out of a dream. Steven tilted his head at his father, holding his folded clothing in front of him at that loathsome angle, right where his privates were still private. It teased Greg, and every rational part of his brain had to shut down that aspect. Everything was unintentional. Everything was innocent.
“Sorry, sport,” Greg chuckled. “Must’ve got lost in thought.”
“’s okay! I’m ready!”
As he pranced towards the bench away from their shower area, Greg breathed in and watched him walk away. He had seen it all before, and he couldn’t hold it in anymore. All the he knew was that he couldn’t hurt Steven, no, not in a million years. The old man felt his heart stop as he set the hose down by the drain, letting the open mouth dribble into the drain.
His feet carried him towards the bench with his son. When Steven turned around, he looked up at his dad with even more confusion than before. As Greg began to take his shirt off, the boy opened his mouth in recognition.
“Are you showering too, dad?” Steven asked.
“That’s right, Steven. I need to get myself all cleaned up.”
Always excited, always somewhat ignorant. Steven was already starting to walk back towards the hose as Greg slipped out of his trunks, leaving himself hanging, naked in his sandals. When he turned around, it took everything in his power to control his cock from straightening out. Still, bloated as it was, it swung a little between Greg’s thighs as he came back to where Steven was. The boy turned and saw his father’s nakedness, and the man saw those wide, dark eyes glance down and stare for a moment. Perhaps he was wondering about the differences, about the size. Perhaps he had no thoughts in his head about his father’s penis whatsoever. Neither of them could tell.
There were the two stools, one for Steven to sit on and one for Greg. The man took his spot and picked up the hose from the ground.
“Can you turn the hose on a little more?” Greg asked, gesturing towards the faucet.
Steven wandered to the wall, giving Greg one more moment to come to terms with the path he was going down. Steven wouldn’t be so open with what was happening here. Time with dad was always private time. There was always a risk, but Steven loved his father enough not to spread what was going on – if things ever came to that. It was manipulation. It was necessary.
The boy came back and leaned against his father, jarring Greg out of his daydream. This time, Steven came and hopped up on his dad’s thigh, straddling the adult’s leg and staring at him intently.
“Is something wrong, dad?” he asked, narrowing his eyes, as if daring the man to lie. “You’re really kinda somewhere else tonight.”
He had to look. Greg’s eyes wandered down to his son’s private parts, with his free hand adjusting Steven’s legs as a cover for his indecent gaze. The hairless balls were pressed against the meat of the man’s leg, tiny and smooth and somehow rosier than the rest of the child’s skin. Perfect outlines showed the meat under the boy’s thick foreskin, ending in a loose pucker, protection for the already sensitive boy’s most sensitive part.
If he didn’t do something now, he was going to make a mistake. Greg lifted his boy up underneath his armpits, watching the dangling parts lift and swing naturally before he positioned Steven in his lap. The shampoo was already underneath the seat.
“It’s just been hot out, y’know? It’s messing with my head even more than usual. Just your silly old dad being silly, Stevie.”
Nothing about that was remotely unusual, and Steven accepted it with a hug. One massive arm wrapped around Steven, and Greg closed his eyes as he lifted the hose above them both. Warmed water poured out over them both, soaking them through and through. It wasn’t hot enough to draw steam, but in the nude surrounded by cold stone it was more than enough to relax them both.
The man decided now he was going to keep Steven in his lap as much as he could. Greg set the hose down on the bench tucked underneath his thigh. The bottle came up next, and the pop of the cap echoed through the garage. Steven held on himself as Greg used both hands, squeezing some soap into his hands and popping the bottle back down to the ground. He brought them together on Steven’s back, rubbing into his skin.
Steven immediately closed his eyes and leaned into his dad’s touch with the biggest smile in the world. It was a massage for him, muscles being touched and stretched and warmed up under his father’s fingers. Greg went from the bulk of his son’s back to his neck, scrubbing underneath the edge of his hairline.
Obedient to his father’s touch, Steven tilted his head back as the thick fingers started to massage his scalp, lathering up in his hair. Greg took the moment to look down and ogle his boy, the triangle of his thighs and belly surrounding his groin. The plumpness of the gut and legs created a beautiful symmetry, layers of boyhood to stare at. Greg bit his lip and raised his head towards the ceiling. It was almost impossible to stay soft now.
He reached back and grabbed the hose, humming a slow tune on autopilot as he rinsed off Steven’s hair and back. The child was a damned supermodel under the flow, with the overhead lights lingering on the shine of his body. Greg set the hose back and popped the bottle again, getting some more soap for Steven’s chest and belly.
One hand held on to the lightweight youngster, tilting him backwards. Greg’s other hand came down gently over Steven’s baby fat. The gemstone twinkled up at him, getting shinier by the moment as Greg gently squeezed around Steven’s pectorals, chubby and almost breast-like in a cherubic way. The suds dripped over the priceless rock and down into Steven’s lap.
Chance overtook him. Greg swirled his hand over Steven’s belly, then reached down and slid his palm over Steven’s privates. The boy squealed in surprise at the motion, but held on regardless as Greg soaped up underneath between the child’s thighs, bumping up against the organs with his wrists and fingertips. He made swift work of the child’s inner thighs, scooping underneath and running his thumbs along Steven’s undercarriage. He almost thought about the little hole in between those cheeks. No, that was too far. Greg restricted himself.
When he looked up from his handiwork, Steven was still smiling, but there was an undeniable flush across his face. Greg merely smiled back. Perhaps, finally, Steven was becoming curious about nudity and his own exploration in front of his father. Perhaps he would even become more bashful now. It wasn’t in his nature, but it was possible.
Without looking, Greg knew that he was hard. Next to Steven’s little member, he felt amazingly immense, even though he was only slightly above average. The boy had a lot of room to grow. Greg brought up the hose and let it sprinkle down over Steven’s chest with a sigh.
“Ready to turn around, kiddo?” he murmured. “Let’s get those legs clean.”
“And then your turn, right?”
This was everything he had hoped for. In his panic, Greg entered a state of zen, showing nothing as he merely smiled down at his child.
“Yup! You can wash me off, too. Hyup, let’s get you up – “
Steven slid off of his father’s lap to the ground. As he did so, Greg’s solid member slid up between the child’s thighs, and the hefty head nudged Steven’s own private parts. For a second, their penises touched, an unspoken broken vow. Steven stopped as soon as he hit the ground, and his smile faded.
For a moment, Greg knew that he was going to die on the spot. But the boy’s expression wasn’t scared, nor horrified, nor even worried. He looked up to his father, and everything that Steven was showing him spoke uncertainty. Breathing a sigh of relief, Greg let his thighs open a little more, pretending not to notice what was going on.
“You doing alright?”
Steven nodded slowly, pointing to the general area of Greg’s private parts.
“Why, um… Why is it all hard?”
Lying wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Greg reached to tousle Steven’s hair, and he was relieved to see the boy match his smile a little.
“Well, it happens to boys sometimes,” Greg started. “When we get touched down there a lot, or sometimes when we’re…happy, our privates start to get bigger like that. It’ll happen to you when you’re older, too!”
“Does it stay like that?”
“No, not for a super long time. It doesn’t stay that way forever, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“…does it hurt?”
Greg shook his head. “Ha, no, it doesn’t hurt, but it’s a little more – well, you know how when you got washed, you felt a little funny down there? Those kinds of touches feel stronger now that it’s like this.”
Steven continued to stare at his father for a second, and the caution faded from his face, replaced with general bashfulness. A tap on the shoulder made him turn, and Steven lifted his arms obediently as Greg picked him up and plopped him on his thigh. The man reached around and kissed Steven on the cheek, and the boy’s laughter released the tension of their conversation, sending a wiggle down his body once more. They were back in business.
This was impossible, a dream, but Greg forced himself to continue. It felt like he was going to shoot at a hair trigger, with Steven shimmying around on his leg. He took the hose and ran it all over Steven again, soaking the boy with warmth. The water went down, the bottle went up, and Steven watched as Greg squeezed the gel down one leg.
As he reached around to massage his son, Greg let his wrist slide a little closer to Steven’s body than usual. He felt the child shudder for a second, right where he wanted him. Greg pretended not to notice as he flexed Steven’s joint, bringing his calf up and soaping up the skin. The minute of washing seemed to last forever until Greg wriggled himself in between Steven’s toes. The boy leaned back against his dad; Greg felt him breathe deeply.
When he moved to the other leg, Greg slid himself slowly down the child’s thigh, his palm pressing into the fat of his leg, using the soap to glide down across Steven’s groin. This time, the boy squeaked aloud, and it took every fiber of Greg’s will to not grunt along with him and start groping his own offspring. The horrible, unnatural process was halfway done, and Greg wasn’t sure he could contain himself.
But as soon as it had started, it seemed that Steven was all soaped and cleaned up. Greg let the boy slide off as he himself stood with a grunt of exertion. Old bones didn’t change, after all. Steven turned with his hands up as Greg hosed him off, his cock pointed straight at the kid as well.
He was amazed, actually. Even after that little incident, Steven only seemed to be slightly more tensed, maybe even more excited. Getting touched by anyone but his father would have been horrible, but this was a ritual of manhood, a little boy’s night together. What would he think in a year? In five years? Greg let his son dance in the water, ignorant to the perversions behind his eyes.
“Are you gonna sit down, dad?”
Steven reached up for the hose, looking for all the world like a disheveled puppy. Greg handed it down, wishing that he didn’t notice that Steven’s mouth was almost the exact height as his shaft.
“Sure thing, kiddo,” he murmured, pulling the stool forwards. “Make sure you get all of my hair, okay? I gotta keep being your majestic old man!”
Greg closed his own eyes as he sat and felt the water come down over his head. Two tiny hands started to scrub gently down on the top of his head, soap dripping from his scalp to the ends of his mangled mane. It was easy now to let the sexual thoughts slide, considering how much work it was to wash his hair. The man looked down at himself and tried not to sigh. He hadn’t been this hard in years, and yet here they were.
“Dad? Can you move your hair forward so I can get your back?”
With a nod, he pulled his hair down and out, letting the boy get access to his bare back. Thankfully for both of them, excessive body hair didn’t run in the Universe line – at least, not from the waist up. The thought of the boy scrubbing in and around his groin sent a wave of suppressed animalism through Greg’s body, right in time to the hands massaging his spine.
“Feels good, kiddo,” he said, managing to chuckle himself back down to peace. If only he knew.
The hose came back and washed the suds away. Steven stepped forwards around Greg, and the man saw the long glance down. He chuckled aloud, and when his son looked up he almost growled. Steven’s awe and loving amazement at this whole encounter was written in every part of his face. Maybe it was just nervousness over this whole incident, but the boy wasn’t running away screaming, and he stepped closed with the hose and shampoo bottle obediently.
How long until he started getting erections himself? Greg knew that it could happen at this age, but it would take more stimulation or at least more attention than was safe. At the least, Steven could admire what was happening here. The hose spread water all over Greg’s chest, legs, and front, soaking the man until his leg and pubic hair were matted to his body.
“When am I gonna start getting hair, dad?”
“Oh, man, that’s a long ways away, Steven,” Greg said. “You might start noticing some peach fuzz on your arms and legs in a couple years, but this darker stuff won’t be coming until you’re a teenager.”
Steven pushed his tongue into his cheek. “And that’s when hair’s gonna grow down there, too?”
“Yup, everywhere. That’s how the body do, kiddo.”
Shampoo squirted into the boy’s hand, and both hands came up to rub over the mass of Greg’s chest. The adult couldn’t help but laugh a little at the tiny hands pressing against his body. The sound made Steven glance up with a shared smile. He stepped closed to his father, until the head of the man’s cock gently pressed against his gemstone.
He should have mentioned it, but he didn’t; Greg merely smiled and let Steven do what he needed to do. He brought his hands down to scoop up some suds, humming as he washed his arms down. The child’s eyes were fixed on him so hard he could feel it, but Greg was reveling in the panicked high of confidence, as if nothing was wrong, as if he hadn’t been traumatized by the mere thought of this very encounter not an hour ago.
Steven used the hose to de-sud his father’s chest and arms. The water’s warmth was a miracle at this point, but neither one of them was about to question Beach City’s plumbing. Greg shifted a little and moved himself forwards on the stool. The child took a seat on his own stool in front of his father. The reddened, swollen shaft might have been dripping; all the water around them made it impossible to determine. What wasn’t hard to see was the fact that it was very close – too close – to Steven’s face.
The boy didn’t even seem to acknowledge the awkwardness of the situation. It was like a game, or some other unseen secret he was reveling in. When he started to soap up Greg’s legs, he was sure not to actually let the shaft touch his arms, courteous and ashamed. This would be the part where Greg should have been washing his own groin, but he merely sat back and took a breath, smiling at his son’s diligence, listening to the boy practice whistling. Even as he moved from one leg to the other, even as his hands came up underneath Greg’s thighs, Steven avoided the hairy space between.
He had fantasized before, but Greg was straight-up daydreaming now. The soft lips that kissed him to sleep would fit so perfectly around his cockhead, as gentle as they were curious. Even that little bit would be enough for him. Steven’s little gasps would fill the space as Greg kissed him right in between his legs, suckling on that boyhood, feeling the warmth of his gemstone fill the space. It was all theoretical, and enough to make Greg’s already hard cock fill a little more.
Greg hadn’t realized he had had his eyes closed. He blinked down at Steven, raising his eyebrows, a paternal reflex.
“What’s up, um… You doing okay, Steven?”
The boy had one hand on each of the man’s thighs, and to Greg’s surprise, the boy looked concerned and nervous again, but with strange determination.
“I know it’s okay for you to wash my – stuff, because you’re a grown-up and whatever, but is it okay for me to do that to you?” he asked cautiously. “I know you said it feels different when, um, when it’s like this, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
To be fair, Steven had reason to be concerned. Greg’s own foreskin, loose as it was already, had slid back, and the angry red head looked painful to the touch. Even more so, the man knew that if Steven started to put his hands on his shaft, then he would cum, no question. There were many possibilities, and Greg licked his lips as he sorted through them.
As those little fingers gripped him, the man thought of an answer.
“Well, do you want to learn a special massage?”
“Is it for – for your thing?”
Greg chuckled and raised an open hand, holding it flat and wiggling it back and forth, a so-so motion. The vaguer he explained it, the better.
“Well, when it’s like this, all hard and stuff, that means the body wants get – well, it’s tension, like when you have a sore muscle you want rubbed. It’s not really a muscle, but that’s not the point.” Greg cleared his throat. “Basically… There’s stuff you’ll make in your…testes – I know, you can laugh – and when you rub it, some of it comes out, and that’s what gets rid of the tension.”
Steven let the giggles run their course, his cheeks flushed with intrigue and embarrassment. They had had the body talk before, but it had all fallen into the back of the boy’s mind. Now that it was being applied, the silliness was all he had left as a defense. Greg took Steven onto his leg again, turning the boy to snuggle against him. Steven hugged his father as the man leaned back, spreading his legs out for access.
“All you have to do is hold it, and then gently rub it up and down,” Greg said, demonstrating in the air; he wanted Steven’s hands on him first.
The preteen reached down between his father’s legs, and his fingers gently closed around the swollen shaft. The touch was warmth. Every part of Greg’s brain that was against this notion shut down, and the need for release was imminent. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes, holding his son close as he felt the gentle strokes beginning to slide down his shaft. The boy couldn’t even close his fingers all the way around.
Greg didn’t look at what was happening. He couldn’t look. All he needed was the touch of Steven’s hands gripping his penis, gently massaging the bloated, needy cock. The tenderness of the child’s touch was more than enough to make him start leaking once more. Even though he had just cum last night, the buildup was enormous, and the rewards would be more so. Steven’s strokes were filled with fascination and worry; Greg could feel it in the fingertips.
“It’s…gonna be white, and there’s gonna be a lot of it, but don’t worry, kiddo,” the man grunted, holding on to his child with one trembling hand. “I’m getting close... You’re doing so great, Steven…”
It was that little voice that drove Greg too close to the edge. The lift in his thighs and the tension underneath began to rise up. Warmth filled the man’s loins, and he took one last breath before all his shame could escape.
“Here it comes – oh, oh, Steven - !”
The child gasped as the first shot came out of Greg’s cock, right underneath his fingers. He didn’t let go, but he stopped rubbing as he watched his father ejaculate. The man let out a low serious of weak moans with each subsequent burst. The strings of semen launched a full yard out in front of the pair, thick and stringy, as potent as it had always been. The running hose faded into the background noise, replaced by the gentle splattering sound of cum hitting the wet tile. Every part of Greg’s anxiety dribbled out with it, with the last remnants oozing down to Steven’s knuckles.
Greg opened his aching eyes to see Steven with his hand raised, looking at his father’s semen sliding down towards his wrist. The mess was easily cleaned, but even looking at the damage, Greg’s first hazy thought was that he was lucky to be still making it like this for forty.
“Dad? Are you – is that what’s supposed to happen?”
“Yup. That’s it, Steven.”
“And am I gonna… Can I do this when I’m older, too?”
Greg nodded with a muted mhm as he kissed Steven’s neck, pulling the boy close. He sighed and let the young man lean against him again, their naked bodies pressed gently together.
No matter how warm the water was, they needed to dry off eventually. They needed to dry off, get clean, and Greg needed to clean this before opening up tomorrow. Or maybe he could just take the day off, that was always an option – as long as everyone was safe. As long as Steven was safe. The most important part – he had almost forgotten.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, dad.”
There it was. Greg needed to hear that, in this strange afterglow. It was all he needed to hear. Whether or not Steven understood what was going on, whether or not anything happened after this night, they loved each other and that’s what mattered. Greg’s sigh was the longest and deepest he had taken in his life. He wasn’t going to sleep tonight, but he could make sure that Steven rested well, and that tomorrow was another day for him. Maybe in the morning they could talk about the previous night. Maybe he could make things right.
The running hose told Greg he needed to get things cleaned up for now. Steven was starting to shudder from the cold in his arms. Both of them were still naked and still needed to sleep. The man picked the hose back up and tested the water with his thumb. It was still warm. The man braced himself to stand, working through their nightly exercises in his head. It was time to be a father again.