The Son Also Rises – Part One
by
Rwxxx13 (rwxxx13@yahoo.com)

Ryan Jeffries never planned to fuck his son. In fact, if someone had suggested such a thing a year before, that person would have likely ended up bleeding. The thirty-four year old real estate agent had lost his wife three years earlier. His son Lucas had been nine at the time. Now twelve, the cute little blond boy had become much more than just a son.

Ryan wasn’t sure when it started. The idea of it. A germ of an idea at first, certainly; one he hadn’t even been aware of for some time, just lurking in his subconscious. After his wife passed, Ryan and Lucas had been a bit lost. They clung together and finally worked through their grief and found an easy camaraderie. As guys living together alone, the feminine touches Ryan’s wife had brought to the home slowly faded away, and the guys were living as true bachelors. Home cooked meals became frozen dinners. The house was cleaned, but mostly just on the surface, while dust gathered in the cracks and crevices.

This partnership began to morph even back then from the typical father and son relationship until they were more like roommates. Equals, but separate. Still loving, but more independent. Ryan worked, Lucas went to school. They were together most evenings, but often in separate rooms. There wasn’t any unease between them; they were just two guys living their separate lives together. Ryan played poker with the guys and went to the gym. Lucas did homework and had his dance classes.

Lucas had been taking ballet classes for about five years. His mother had enrolled him over Ryan’s hesitant objections. Mother and father both knew that Lucas was gay. They’d accepted the fact years before Lucas announced it himself when he was nine. So Ryan’s objections about ballet weren’t the typical father’s worries about a boy doing a ‘girl’ activity, but rather worry about what other boys might think. Of course that supposed that other boys were somehow unaware of Lucas’ orientation, which Ryan’s wife reasonably pointed out was highly unlikely. So Lucas took ballet.

The boy wasn’t overly serious about it. There were boys who put their all into dancing, and they did competitions all over the country. Lucas was more interested in the social aspect of it, and while he practiced and went to all the classes, he didn’t obsess about it.

So father and son eased into a friendly, loving relationship that resembled more than anything a couple of college roommates. That was until the virus. COVID changed everything.

From having separate lives in the same space, with some obvious overlap, Ryan and Lucas were suddenly together 24/7. No more going to work. No more going to school. No gym. No ballet. No friends. No space. So Ryan and Lucas struggled to adapt. Ryan did what little work he could do from home. Lucas did school via video chat. Ryan pulled his dusty old weight set out of the garage. Lucas began to dance in the backyard.

Working out at home was fine for keeping up the body that Ryan felt such pride in, but he realized that there was an important aspect that was missing. He hadn’t ever been aware of just how important the social aspect of working out had been to him. Not just the friendly waves and nods to the people he saw every day, but the opportunity to show off a bit, and the good feelings he got from his body being noticed and appreciated.

Ryan found a way to get some of that feeling through Instagram. He’d never had much of a social media presence, but suddenly he was posting shirtless pictures of himself and eagerly reading the appreciative comments. It gave him something to look forward to every day.

On the home front, however, things were degenerating a bit. Not in any truly negative ways, but Ryan realized that the dishes were sitting on the counter a bit longer than they had previously. That the trash was getting fuller before they dragged the cans around to the front. Dirty clothes were beginning to litter the floor while there were more and more days between doing laundry. Ryan noticed that Lucas had stopped making his bed, and after mentioning it and being told that Lucas was in it half the day, Ryan relented. Then he stopped making his as well.

While Ryan was working out in the garage, Lucas had taken to practicing his dancing on the back patio. Ryan was a bit ashamed to realize that he hadn’t seen Lucas dancing in at least a couple of years, and one day he found himself standing in the kitchen watching his son practicing out back. That day Lucas had been wearing black tights. He was shirtless and had on black dance shoes. Ryan watched the boy twirl and stretch and leap with a bit of awe for his son’s talent.

He was also noticing his son’s body. Really paying attention to it in a way he never had before. At twelve, Lucas was a willowy boy, with long legs and a lean body. He was tall for his age at five-foot-two, but he didn’t look at all awkward or gangly. In fact, he looked graceful and… something. Ryan didn’t try to pin down exactly what that something might have been, his mind sort of skittering away from it unconsciously.

Although there was something almost delicate about Lucas, there was also strength. His legs bunched with lean muscle as he danced, and his flat stomach flexed with his movements. Ryan even found himself noticing Lucas’ backside, which while full, was also muscled. The black tights made it difficult to see the shadow of his son’s crotch, and when Ryan realized that he’d actually had that thought he looked away guiltily.

The sight of Lucas dancing stayed with Ryan though, and he made sure to be in the kitchen to watch over the following days. He told himself he was just an appreciative and proud father. One day Lucas’ tights were a light gray, and the shape of his young penis was much more obvious. When Ryan realized he’d been looking, he told himself it was just natural curiosity about his son’s development. When he started to get an erection, he told himself it was completely unrelated and he went to take a shower where he took care of it.

For the next few days, Ryan settled into the routine of watching his son dance, and then going and jacking off in the shower. He never thought about his son while he did that, but he did find himself thinking about Scott, for the first time in years.

Ryan had been nineteen. A sophomore at the local college. He had a girlfriend named Amy who he told himself he liked very much. He wasn’t a virgin, having lost that at sixteen. There had been other girls. There had even been a couple of boys, but that was when Ryan was twelve or thirteen and of course that was just natural boyhood exploration. Or so he told himself.

Amy had a brother. Scott was fourteen, although he looked young for his age. Scott looked up to Ryan, and for his part, Ryan treated Scott like a little brother. The boys were close. Close enough that Amy complained that Ryan was spending more time with her little brother than he did with her. It began to affect their relationship, and Amy responded by cutting him off. They didn’t break up, but she was punishing him with a lack of sex. One night she got so upset that she told him to get out of her room. As it was late, too late to go home, Ryan ended up sleeping in Scott’s room. Then in Scott’s bed.

Ryan wasn’t quite sure how it happened, or why it happened, but he and Scott quickly found themselves in the midst of a furious physical relationship. Ryan didn’t try to analyze it, just enjoying the boy’s body, and the things he could do with it, while trying to keep the secret from his girlfriend and everyone else.

Ryan and Amy broke up three months later, but he and Scott continued their relationship for nearly a year after that, until Scott decided he wanted to be with girls, despite his obvious desire for a cock in his ass or in his mouth.

Soon after, Ryan met the girl who would become his wife, and he put thoughts of Scott behind him, sure it had just been a bit of a quirk and that it didn’t say anything at all about his sexuality.

“Hey, Dad,” Lucas said, and Ryan started, realizing his mind had been elsewhere. Lucas was coming in from the back patio, a sheen of sweat on his smooth body. Ryan realized he was hard and he looked down guiltily and then gave a mental sigh of relief when he saw that his loose shorts and hanging shirt were obscuring his bulge. He felt guilty that he’d been thinking about Scott while his son was so close.

“Hey, kiddo,” Ryan said with a smile. Lucas was wearing baby blue tights that day. Ryan was sure that the boy wasn’t wearing underwear, or even one of those dance belts he’d had to buy. Lucas had never liked the dance belts and complained about how uncomfortable they were. All the boys in his dance class had to start wearing them around eleven. It didn’t surprise Ryan that Lucas wouldn’t be wearing one now, and he jerked his eyes upward with a flush of embarrassment. “Good practice?” he asked, to cover.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I keep doing it. Bored I guess.”

“Well, you look really good,” Ryan said. “I mean, you know… talented.”

“Thanks,” Lucas grinned, slicking his short blond hair back off his brow. It was always falling into his eyes. “Well, I’m gonna grab a shower.”

“Oh. Yeah, me too,” Ryan said.

“Working out in the garage?” Lucas asked.

“Gotta maintain the guns,” Ryan joked, flexing his bicep.

Lucas rolled his eyes, but in a playful way. As his son walked away, Ryan found himself looking for lines that would tell him if Lucas was wearing underwear or not. He didn’t see anything.

In the shower, stroking his cock, Ryan was thinking of Scott. The brown-haired boy from his past had blond hair for some reason.

Lying in bed later that night, Ryan couldn’t quite understand why he’d done it. After his shower, he’d dried off and thrown his damp towel on the bathroom sink instead of hanging it up as he’d have done a couple of months before. Then he stood there examining himself in the mirror. At six-foot-two, Ryan was tall and muscular and had a well-defined body. He had very little body hair, and the small amount that grew on his chest, he shaved. He turned side to side, watching his cock swing. Flaccid, he was about five inches long and thick. He was mostly a shower, and would grow to just over seven when erect. He kept his light brown pubes carefully trimmed. It was just habit. He hadn’t seen anyone since his wife passed.

In his bedroom, he pulled on a pair of black boxer-briefs and then opened up the drawer where he kept his shorts, which he usually wore around the house. He started to reach in and then paused. He just stood there for about ten seconds, hand outstretched, still. Then he straightened and closed the drawer.

Ryan was standing at the open fridge drinking from a bottle of water wearing just his underwear when Lucas came into the kitchen wearing his usual night-time attire of shorts and a t-shirt, today featuring a koala bear and the legend, ‘You are Pre-koala-fied for a hug’. Ryan had been standing idly in front of the fridge for nearly ten minutes before he’d heard Lucas’ bedroom door open and he’d grabbed the water. The entire time he there waiting he was fruitlessly exploring his motivation for standing there, but he honestly couldn’t think of anything. He was feeling strangely unsettled and uncertain.

Lucas had given him a raised eyebrow, but didn’t comment on the way his father was dressed. Nor did either of them address it as they ate microwaved pot pies and watched America’s Got Talent. Ryan noticed that his son’s eyes kept drifting over to him throughout the evening though, and he got the same sort of warm glow he’d feel being noticed in the gym.

Lying in bed that night though, he couldn’t figure out what had driven him to do such a thing. Was it just a desire to show off? Why? Why should he care what his twelve-year-old son thought about his old man’s body? He finally fell asleep a bit confused and disconcerted.

The next day followed the same pattern as the previous one. They’d fallen into a routine over the months of forced isolation, so Ryan did some work, and Lucas attended school and Ryan worked out and took selfies to put on Instagram while Lucas danced in the backyard. Then each went off to take showers.

After his shower, Ryan found himself thinking about the day before and how he’d worn his boxer-briefs in front of Lucas. Now, it wasn’t like the family had ever been particularly body-conscious. Ryan’s wife used to stand in the bathroom topless and do her hair and make-up and he and Lucas thought nothing of standing there talking to her while she did it. Being seen by Lucas while getting dressed wasn’t exactly unusual for Ryan, although it hadn’t happened in a few years, and he was fairly sure Lucas hadn’t seen him naked since the last time they showered together when Lucas was about four or five. So lying around in his underwear the night before wasn’t exactly shocking or scandalous, but Ryan felt odd about it all the same. Especially because he couldn’t figure out why he’d done it.

However, that lack of understanding didn’t stop him from doing it again that night. This time the underwear was gray, with the white Calvin waistband. As Ryan looked at himself in the mirror, he realized that the lump his cock formed would be much more apparent in the lighter colored boxers, and he arranged it carefully to slide down his right thigh, again confused as to what he was doing and why.

Ryan was busy microwaving some lasagna when Lucas finally finished his shower and joined him, and if the boy was surprised to see his father once again in his underwear, he didn’t show it. Ryan was surprised though, because it appeared he wasn’t the only one.

The man wasn’t sure at first, because Lucas’ t-shirt, advertising Gucci, went a bit past his hips, but there weren’t the usual long satiny gym shorts underneath, just bare hip and thighs. Again, no words were spoken, and Ryan eventually realized Lucas was wearing just his underwear as well.

Lucas didn’t like boxer-briefs. He didn’t like regular Y-front type briefs either. At eight, the boy had announced that he was no longer going to wear cartoon underwear, or boxers or ‘tighty-whities’. He’d only wear bikini style briefs from then on, which had to be purchased online. For Ryan and his wife, it was just further confirmation that their son was a bit different.

That night, Ryan saw just enough to get peeks of dark blue briefs. Not that he was looking. The next night, Lucas didn’t bother with the shirt.

Ryan was sitting at the kitchen table, in his now-usual boxer-briefs when Lucas came into the room looking just the very slightest bit nervous, only the nervous clutching of his hands giving him away.
Dancing had sculpted Lucas’ body, but puberty hadn’t yet given him the definition he’d soon have. Now he was slender and graceful, with long, smooth legs and a body that seemed as if it had been stretched like taffy, with an impossibly long waist and torso, and a firm abdomen stretching downward which displayed the deep V cuts that Ryan had to work at so desperately.

The underwear Lucas wore was light blue, cut low on the hip, and high on the leg. The cloth that stretched around Lucas’ narrow hips was less than an inch thick. The material was a soft, thin cotton that molded itself to what was underneath it. If Ryan hadn’t already been aware of the fact, he’d have easily been able to tell that Lucas was circumcised.

Even that little thing, no pun intended, had been a point of at least mild contention between Ryan and his wife. Ryan was himself cut, but he’d wanted Lucas to remain intact. Not out of any sense of moral outrage or overblown political belief, but just on the idea that with no real reason to do it, why bother? Kat, Ryan’s wife had argued in favor of the procedure. For her was purely an aesthetic choice. She simply preferred the way they looked, she’d said. When she raised the question about whether it would cause Lucas some confusion seeing that he and his dad were different down there, Ryan had dropped it.

As the evening of television watching progressed, it was now Ryan who felt his eyes being drawn again and again to his son. It was, he told himself, simple curiosity. He hadn’t seen Lucas naked since the boy was eight or nine. He was twelve now. Ryan had started puberty himself when he was twelve. Had Lucas? Well, he supposed he had. He’d had a growth spurt certainly, and although there were no other signs of pubescence, like acne or body hair that Ryan had ever seen, or a fuzzy lip or deepening voice, Ryan supposed those things didn’t mean much. Being twelve himself once upon a time, he knew that the only thing he’d cared about was how much hair he was getting down there. At that age he’d never even considered worrying about his size, or how he might compare to other boys. How big had he been at that age? How big was Lucas down there? Flushing, Ryan pulled one of the throw pillows into his lap.

The next morning Ryan emerged from his bedroom wearing shorts but no shirt to find Lucas at the kitchen table eating a bowl of Cap’n Crunch. His son was dressed only in the skimpy briefs he’d been wearing the night before.

“Hey, Dad,” Lucas said through a mouthful of cereal.

“So I guess we’re both finding getting dressed to be too much of a hassle these days,” Ryan said, trying for humor, feeling the need to address the issue.

Lucas shrugged and swallowed what was in his mouth. “It’s not like we’re goin’ anywhere.”

“True enough,” Ryan said, going to the cupboard and getting down a coffee mug. The coffee-maker had started brewing about half an hour earlier. “Are you going to put something on before school? Your teachers might object,” he said, smiling.

“It’s Saturday, Dad,” Lucas pointed out.

“Wow, it is?” he asked. Lucas nodded. Ryan said, “Hey, where’s my morning hug?”

Lucas grinned and rose, stepping up to Ryan and wrapping arms around his waist. Ryan bent down, his nose in Lucas’ hair, smelling vaguely still of strawberries from his shower yesterday.

“That’s better,” Ryan said, and Lucas grinned up at him. Ryan kissed him briefly on the lips, a quick peck. Still holding his son, he asked, “So what are you doing today?”

Lucas shrugged. “Cartoons I guess.”

Ryan grinned. “Good plan. Maybe I’ll join you.”

“Okay,” Lucas smiled, and then returned to his cereal.

About fifteen minutes later, Ryan walked into the living room to find Lucas on the floor, chin propped in his hands, engrossed in a cartoon that seemed to be about flying girls. Ryan settled on the couch, placing his coffee on the coffee table and opening his laptop in his lap. He felt a nice sense of completion at using both items for their named purpose.

He didn’t have any work to do, so he was just checking his Insta while the sound of the cartoon washed over him. Ryan happily read some nice comments on his most recent pics, looking up on occasion as something blew up on the screen. After a couple of minutes, he realized that he’d stopped looking at his laptop and he’d stopped looking at the television. Lucas’ knees were bent, his calves forming a V, his feet together. The boy was idly sort of clapping his feet together, but that’s not where Ryan found his attention. Rather, he realized after a couple of minutes that he was looking at Lucas’ backside.

Ryan decided that Lucas had his mother’s butt. Ryan had a slim, athletic ass. Lucas’ was much more rounded and prominent. Of course, Ryan knew just how firmly muscled it must be because of the boy’s dancing. Lucas’ briefs had slipped a bit; enough to show the top of his cleft. Somehow they’d also ridden up, so that the lower part of each full cheek was exposed.

Ryan wasn’t sure what had drawn his attention to his son’s ass. It wasn’t like he was checking him out or anything. That would be weird of course. He was trying to figure out what had distracted him when Lucas’ ass tensed, and Ryan realized it had been that movement which drew his eye. After a few moments, it happened again. It took Ryan a minute to realize what he was seeing. Lucas was humping the floor. He wasn’t being overt about it. For all Ryan knew, the boy was doing it unconsciously. Ryan was mildly disturbed by the sensuousness of the sight.

Then Ryan watched as those hips lifted again as Lucas slid a hand underneath himself. Ryan realized that the boy must be adjusting his… Ryan didn’t even want to think it. It seemed wrong somehow to think about his son with an erection. Of course, Lucas was twelve. It was only reasonable to suspect that he was getting frequent erections. Ryan then found himself wondering if Lucas had learned to jack off yet. With another sense of unease, Ryan realized that he was erect as well, and he made sure that the laptop was blocking a casual view, because his distended shorts left no doubt as to his condition.

Ryan was glad a few seconds later that he’d adjusted the laptop, because Lucas rose to his feet. He was very careful to keep his back to his dad. “Gonna go to the bathroom,” the boy said as he walked off. What Lucas didn’t notice, but his father did, was that when Lucas had paused the show he’d been watching, it was during a brief scene transition, leaving the screen nearly black. So as Lucas stood and walked away, for just a brief moment, Ryan had been able to see the boy’s reflection in the television, a reflection that was clear enough for him to see that his son was stretching the front of his little briefs.

As Lucas disappeared around the corner to the hall bathroom he used, Ryan set his laptop aside and rose, the tv now reflecting his own obscenely tented shorts. As Ryan hurried to his own room his hand was already reaching down into his shorts to wrap around his throbbing cock. A minute later, lying on his back on his bed with cooling ropes of semen decorating his chest and belly, he told himself that he hadn’t just gotten turned on by his own son.

End of Part one

Copyright 2024 – Rwxxx13
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