Ever since I can remember, I’ve had a fascination with the male body. I think back to times when I was a child, and I remember fantasising about being with naked men. I didn’t really know what it meant then, but of course, I do now.
Part of this fantasy was an obsession with my dad. When I was a young kid he’d be the one to bathe me and generally take care of me, (Mum was a workaholic and never home much). Dad on the other hand was a part time contractor for a constructing consulting firm. He had a pretty large build, all hard and muscly with a smattering of hair all over his body. Everywhere he went he turned heads. Even though both Mom and Dad worked, and we were reasonably well off, my parents decided to stay in the apartment they had bought when I was born. At that time, my Dad was only 20, and my Mom 19, and they didn’t have much money. Our home had only a single bathroom and two bedrooms with a tiny kitchen and lounge room. It was enough for us however, and especially good for me, as I was to find out.
I remember the first time I moved from having baths to showers, it was Dad who jumped in with me. I remember even at the age of 6 being fascinated with his dick. It was huge, to my childhood eyes; hanging down past his nut sack and as thick as a cucumber. When Dad turned the shower head onto me for the first time, I was pretty scared for some reason and I wrapped my arms around Dad’s legs and started to tear up. My shoulder came into contact with his dick, and with my head against his hard stomach I squeezed as hard as I could. Dad started to laugh and squatted down on the tiles after shifting the shower head. He took me in his arms and gave me a bear hug. I lifted my legs off the tiles and wrapped them around his waist as he lifted me up. I remember the feeling of my little cock as it rubbed and bumped against his hard abs as he jiggled me up and down. “Come on, Tyler,” he said, “it’s not that bad.”
