Sand in My Suit

By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
Artwork (c) 2006 by Eduardo.

Illustration of Sand in My Suit

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" I heard as I lay trying to nap in the warm summer sun. I had layered on enough sunscreen to feel safe for an hour or so and never napped longer than that. But that voice was enough to ruin any hope of going on to sleep.

"What is it?" I groaned, opening my eyes.

My son Ricky was standing before me. "Daddy, I want an ice cream." Ricky said to me.

"We didn't bring any." I said patiently.

"Can't we buy some?" Ricky whined.

"Son." I rose up on one arm. "This is a private beach, remember? It's not like the public beach where there's a lot of people around and they sell ice cream nearby. It's just us here, you and me and Mommy and Dierdre."

"But I want an ice cream." Ricky whimpered. "When I go to the beach, I always get an ice cream."

"I know, and we'll go out for ice cream when we head home." I said. "We still have some fruit juice in the ice chest. Would you like one of those, or something to eat?"

"No." Ricky grumbled, looking sour and unhappy.

I didn't blame him. This beach was a perk of my wife's, she worked for a big corporation that owned this house and this stretch of ocean-front property. Oh, the very edge of the beach itself was public property, but it was lousy for surfing and far enough away from public areas to be left alone. Some strategically placed rocks pretending to be a natural formation (but which I knew wasn't, the corporation had set out to protect its property from interlopers) made strolling along the beach up to this area untenable. A beautiful beach nearly a half mile long, all for you...assuming you wanted to be all alone on a beach. And what young boy really wants to be all alone? I felt about the same way. If this had been a getaway, just my wife and me, maybe it would have been good, but with a seven-year-old boy and a twelve-year-old girl along, it was about as exciting as watching paint dry.

This house and the land it was one was a place for high-powered executives to come and relax and enjoy the sun and such. The house contained a few embarrassments, such as an over-ornate bedroom in pink-and-fluffy obviously meant for assignations, but Dierdre loved it and claimed it as her own. My wife and I took a more sensible bedroom nearly as big, and Ricky got a smaller one. Plenty of room for us, the house was meant for up to twelve or fifteen people. For just the four of us...well, it was big enough to rattle around in, like four rocks in the bottom of Ricky's plastic pail, and about as comfortably.

Ricky walked over to where Dierdre was building a sand castle. I should have realized in his current mood that this was trouble, but I didn't. Instead, I closed my eyes...only to open them again two minutes later at Dierdre's scandalized shout!

"Ricky!" And Dierdre, who was a good foot taller than Ricky and used to roughhousing with him, tackled him hard!

They were nearly forty feet from me, I got there really too late for a lot of good. Dierdre had revenged her sand castle by taking Ricky down and scooping up handfuls of sand and was rubbing it anywhere she could think of. Ricky had sand in his hair, under his arms, and probably elsewhere. He was yelping and ready to be rescued.

"Mom, he ruined my castle, just ruined it! He's awful, totally awful!" Dierdre cried as my wife came up and intervened as she always did, on Dierdre's side.

"It's all right, baby, it's all right." Celia crooned as her daughter wept inconsolably against her bosom.

"I hate him, I hate him, just hate him. I want to go home, I hate this place!" Dierdre moaned.

"I'm sorry, Daddy." Ricky said as he got to his feet. "She was done with the castle; I thought it was time to wreck it."

"It wasn't yours to wreck." I said to him. "You need to apologize to your sister, and you need to mean it." I said. "For starters." I said to my wife who was looking like I was being too easy on him.

"Dierdre, I'm real sorry." Ricky said, scuffling. "I didn't mean to."

"Yes, you did, you did!" Dierdre screamed at him.

"I think these two have had a little too much of each other." Celia said to me.

"You're probably right." I agreed.

"Why I don't take Dierdre back to the house and get her cleaned up and we'll go have a girl's night on the town." Celia said. "You keep Ricky busy out here for an hour and we'll be gone by then."

"All right." I accepted the perfunctory kiss Celia had started giving me three years ago, about the same time she cut our sex life down to less than once a month (we were going on three months without right now, I was ready to stop even asking for it), and my wife took my daughter up toward the house.

"I want to go take a shower, too." Ricky said.

"Not right now." I cautioned him. "Right now, you and Dierdre need to keep way, way apart. Wait an hour and we'll go get you cleaned up."

"But there's sand in my suit, Daddy!" Ricky complained.

"And in your hair and all over you." I agreed. "Should have thought of that before you kicked over Dierdre's sand castle, shouldn't you?"

"But it itches." Ricky said as he scratched himself in his privates. "It itches me all over." and he began to scratch at his stomach and ribs.

"Don't do that, you'll tear your skin up." I cautioned him.

"But it itches." Ricky said.

"Well...let's try to brush it off you instead." I compromised. "If that doesn't work, we'll think about going up to the house and finding a garden hose and an outside faucet."

Ricky obeyed, began to stroke his hands over himself, rapid, brushing-off movements. Then he slowed. "I think it's working." he said as he moved his hands over himself. "Can you get my back for me, Daddy?"

"Sure, Son." I said and I knelt down behind my son and began to brush at his back. I was struck, as I often am at such moments, how much Ricky and I look alike. I could look at Dierdre sometimes with her red hair and skin far paler than me or her mother, and wonder if she was my daughter, but Ricky was a smaller version of me in all ways. We had the same deep brown hair, the same straight, windswept nose like a miniature ski-jump on our faces, the same long flat cheeks and the same somewhat angular body that I had managed to put a good bit of muscle on after years of work, but Ricky was...well, he was me at that age. I felt a kindred-ship with him I never felt with my daughter. A man should dote on his daughter, but you have to know Dierdre, who was destined to be a true material girl some day, with her, love was all gimee-gimee-gimee and never giving back. Ricky had his mean streak (witness the sand-castle's destruction) but his emotions were genuine and worn on his sleeve. Even when he apologized to Dierdre, he did really mean he was sorry.

My hands slid over his hand and felt the young energy in there. The vitality that had once been so much my own, born anew in my son's body.

My son crooned at the soft grooming I was giving him. "That feels really good, Daddy." he said. "Can you get my legs for me now?"

"Sure, Son." I said and my hands went down and brushed at the offending sand clinging to my son's body. The sunscreen lotion was making it stick, I realized; that was why so much of it was on my boy's tender young body. But the sand soaked up the sunscreen, if I was careful, and moved my hand slow and thoroughly, it was all coming off, sand and salt and all, cleaning my son's skin.

I got his legs except for some at the bottom of his bathing suit and I said as I got up there. "Boy, she really filled your trunks full, didn't she?"

"Uh-huh." Ricky said. "She got it all over my winky. Can you get it off for me, Daddy?"

I looked around. Celia and Dierdre were safely inside the house. Nobody else around at all. "I guess it's safe if I do that." I said.

"Get it out, Daddy." Ricky said and his hand pulled his swim-trunks away from his stomach, leaving a dark triangular opening inside. "Get it all out for me, please?"

I reached in and felt the warmth of Ricky's skin and the sand trapped there. "Yeah, she got a lot inside you there, didn't she?" I murmured. "This might take a while."

"Yeah, Daddy." Ricky said softly as I brushed my fingers around his balls, his little testicles relinquishing the sand at my careful urging. The sand poured out his legs and down onto the beach again.

"Mmm, Daddy, that's nice." Ricky said. "I like it when you do that."

"I'm sure you do." I agreed. "I know I liked it when I was your age and did it with my brothers."

"I don't have any brothers." Ricky pointed out.

"I know, son, and I'm sorry. I wanted more children than two, but your mother didn't."

"Well, if you did it with your brothers." Ricky decided. "Can you do it with me?"

My hand had gone up and I wasn't that surprised to find my son throwing a miniature boner. Even at that age, the cock when stimulated can get hard. I felt his little two-incher poking up.

"I think this needs to be cleaned off extra good." I said to him.

"Yeah." Ricky giggled. "Clean it good for me, Daddy."

"I will, baby, I will." I promised. My hand first I used to actually clean his dick of sand, for it was covered. That done, I kept on pulling on it, letting it go at the top of each stroke, but then going back and grabbing it again.

"That feels real good, Daddy." Ricky approved. "Is this what you did with Uncle Mike and Uncle Jeff?"

"Yeah, pretty much." I said. "We were all a lot younger, though."

"Do it some more." my son urged me.

"I'll do it the real way me and Mike and Jeff did it."

"Yeahhhh!" Ricky said.

My fingers caught hold of his little pud and I began to wank him, my fingers pulling back and forth on his little cock-skin, my wrist moving more than enough to skin his shaft all the way back and pull the skin all the way forward over his glans with each stroke.

"Mmmm, ohhhh, Daddy, mmmm!" Ricky moaned. "That feels really good, Daddy. Really good."

"You have a nice dick to play with, son." I agreed. "Really nice to play with it."

"Uh-huh." Ricky said, a bit absently. His mind was elsewhere, on the pleasure building up in his body, I figured. Then he said, "Daddy?"

"Yeah, son?"

"Can I play with yours, too?"

I hesitated only a moment. I had a wife who had cut me off and a daughter who only saw me a wallet with legs. My son, though, was just happy to be with me. When the rest of your family deprives you of love, you take what's left without balking.

"Sure, Son, sure." I said. "But let's sit down so you can reach me easier, okay?"

Ricky's hand was already at my suit's waistband. I guided him over to the lounger I'd been sitting in. Not a chair, one half sat on the ground and it was solid both seat and back. Comfortable enough that I had been falling asleep sitting on it. Comfortable enough to let me and Ricky sit down side by side on it and my son have no trouble getting his little hand into my trunks and fish out my dong.

Ricky went "Oooh!" when he got hold of it. Then "Oooh!" again when he got it outside of my swimsuit. "Boy, Daddy, yours is a lot bigger than mine!"

"Yours will get bigger when you get older." I said. "Right now, yours is just the right size."

"Yeah." Ricky giggled again and I found myself mimicking his carefree laugh. It just felt right, to giggle like a kid again when your son has hold of your cock and his fingers are causing the blood in your prong to begin to boil with joy.

Ricky began to move his hand like I was. Those little strokes were enough to move my cock-skin up over my glans. "Mmm, yeah, Son, that's great." I enthused. "Really good. But it'll be even better if you move your hand all the way up and down on it."

"Like this?" Ricky's hand began to pump up and down. A little too hard.

"Not too hard." I said as the down-pull was a bit painful. "Just back and forth without pulling it too tight. Oooh, yeah, like that." Now my son was pumping his Daddy's cock right.

"Oh, this is nice, Daddy, really nice." Ricky groaned. "I feel kind of funny in my tummy."

I knew what that meant. "It's going to feel even better in just a moment, baby." I said. "Get ready for the ride of your life."

"Oh, oh, Daddy, oh, that's good, that's good, oh, oh, OH,OH, OH, OH, OH, OH, OHHHHH!" Ricky ended with a long, shuddering sound and his body quivered like a pile of Jell-O, and then he was still and I stopped pumping on him.

Ricky was panting hard and I said, "That's how you do it, Son." I said. "Did you like that?"

"Oh, yeah, Daddy, oh, yeah!" Ricky moaned. "That was great! Really great!"

Ricky's head leaned over and nestled onto my chest near the bottom of my ribs, and he looked down and saw my cock in his hand. "Will yours do that, too?" he wanted to know.

"It sure will, if you pump it long enough." I agreed.

Ricky didn't need any more encouragement, his small hand began to work me in earnest. His head was still on my stomach and I knew he was watching my dong, watching with interest at how the skin slipped back and forth over my cockhead, how the shiny pool of precome oozed out and gleamed in the early afternoon sun.

Me, I just lay there and watched my son watch himself jerking my pud. My hand stroked his hair and I said to him, "My good little boy." I said gently. "My sweet little son. Such a good boy, making his Daddy feel good."

"Is your tummy feeling funny now, Daddy?"

"It's getting there." I said. "And my winky is really beginning to tingle."

"Mine did, too." Ricky snorted his glee. "More and more and then it just went all wacky on me."

"Mine's going to go wacky in a minute, son." I said. "Just keep pumping it, baby, fast as you can now. The faster the better."

Ricky's hand sped up on me, and I gave myself up to the glory. I had somebody nursing my pud to its climax, I was building up my come-load without having to exert myself to make it happen, I had my own son, my little boy, my younger self, working it for me, and he wanted to. Not like my wife who only did it as a favor now and then. My boy WANTED me to come!

And the thought brought the experience, my balls began to churn and my breath began to catch in my throat. "Oh, oh, Ricky, I'm going to come." I gasped out. "Any second now, baby, I'm going to come, baby, I'm going to shoot!"

"Shoot, Daddy, shoot!" Ricky called out and he didn't whisper. That was all right, the surf would drown him out at more than fifty feet, and anything less than that, nobody was there to hear it.

"I'm coming, baby, it's going to shoot out now, all of it going to shoot, oh, baby, baby, God, baby, OH, GOD, OH, I'M COMING, SON, I'M COMING!" And with that final warning, I blasted my wads with a vigor and a rush that I hadn't felt since my wedding night.

My come sprayed Ricky right on his face and chest, it also soaked my stomach. Ricky didn't do anything but laugh as my hot jizz splattered his face and shoulders, he kept on pumping.

"Yeah, shoot it, Daddy, shoot it hard, more, Daddy, more, more!" he urged me.

Taking it like a trooper, that was my thought as my orgasm concluded and I spent the last couple of dribbles out of my dong with the last erg of my energy.

"Oh, baby, oh, baby, oh, oh, oh!" I heaved.

"Wow, Daddy, that was awesome!" my son was awestruck at my achievement. "You really did shoot out of your winky."

"Yeah, Son." I said. "When you grow up, it starts doing that."

"Oh, wow!" Ricky said. A pause. "It tastes salty."

He must have caught some in his mouth. "Yeah, it's salty." I agreed. "I guess I really messed you up, didn't I?"

"Yeah." Ricky giggled, he thought it was funny, getting Daddy's spunk all over himself.

I closed my eyes and relaxed, really relaxed for the first time in I don't know how long. I felt Ricky moving but didn't think much of it. It took me a while to realize what he was doing.

My son was licking my stomach, licking up my jism. When I realized that, I threw another erection and my son concluded by licking my newly-hard prong clean of its clinging clumps of sperm.

"That's got it all off you, Daddy." Ricky boasted.

I looked into his face and nodded. "Yeah, but you're still a mess." Well, turnabout is only fair. I moved my face down to Ricky and I kissed him, then I started licking his face clean of my jizz. He had one clump on his forehead, one on his left cheek and a third on his chin. I got them all off him and leaned back, licking my lips visibly.

"You like it, too, Daddy?"

"Yeah, Son." I said. "You get big enough to make your own, your Daddy can drink it all down for you."

"I can do it for you the next time, if you tell me when." Ricky agreed. "I bet it tastes even better when it's shooting out, the one that hit me in the mouth tasted the best of all."

"I guess the rest of it was flavored with sunscreen and sand." I agreed. "Your face sure was."

"Yeah, I still got sand on me." Ricky agreed. "Can we go clean up, now?"

"Well, Son...." I hesitated and that's when I heard Celia's car start up. Ricky and I listened as it pulled out of the driveway and onto the highway and then I continued, "Yeah, it's time for you and me to go get cleaned up. We got the rest of the day to ourselves."

"Cool!" Ricky agreed.

We showered and I fixed Ricky a light snack, we would go out to eat about sundown but that was seven o'clock at night. While we were eating, the phone rang.

"Hi, Matthew, it's me." came Celia's voice on the other end.

"What is it, hon?"

"The office called, they need me to come in." my wife said.

I wasn't too surprised, all our vacations the last few years had been cut short like this by her office, they refused to give her a full week off without dragging her back early like this. "Well, bring Dierdre back out and we three will make do here without you until the end of the week." I said. I told myself I really should try harder with Dierdre, I was alienating my daughter, I knew....

"Dierdre doesn't want to come back, not after this afternoon." my wife said. "I've agreed to take her back to the city with me and she'll finish out the week staying with a friend of hers. I'll stay in town and you can bring our vacation stuff back with you when you come back. Are you coming back tonight?" We still had five days of our nine-day vacation (counting weekends) to go.

I looked over at Ricky. "No, that's okay." I said. "You'll be busy, why don't you check into a spa or something and pamper yourself for whatever is left of your vacation if they'll let you. Ricky and I will keep busy out here."

"Well, if you don't mind." the relief in Celia's voice was evident. "I may just do that, stay in a hotel near the office. Be a vacation away from the kids."

"And my vacation, just my son and me." I agreed. "Ricky and I will really get to know each other."

"All right, Matthew. I'll see you Sunday night."

"Good-bye, hon." I said and hung up. Looked over at Ricky.

"Hey, sport." I said to his beaming face. "You ready to play some more games with your Daddy?"

"Yeah!" Ricky agreed. "Can we play sand-in-my-suit again, this time without any sand?"

"We sure can!" I scooped my son up and carried him in my arms upstairs.

It's even better without the sand!


Comments, complaints or suggestions?
E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM

(The Story You Just Read is Available in the "Getting Closer to Daddy" book)