A Love That Violates Taboos

Chapter 1: The Fever

My 18 year old son lay upon the bed, propped up by some pillows. His blond hair glistened with sweat, his face was red and his eyes sore. A thermometer hung out of his closed mouth. He looked like he was miserable. And all this just a few days after his birthday, when we had played games and goofed around in the swimming pool! Poor guy.

"Okay, let's see where you're at now," my wife said, pulling the thermometer out of his mouth. She held it up to the light, her big blue eyes scrutinizing the device. She turned back to our son and announced, "Well, Ben, your fever is getting worse. We'll have to call the doctor again." She paused a moment and pressed her lips. "And I'll have to call into work."

I reached out and took her hand. I said, "Jen, it's fine. I got it." I was due lots of PTO so I had gone ahead and taken off a few weeks. I had hoped to use the time working on my novel—but then Ben got sick, just two days into my vacation. Jen, however, had not taken any PTO. She had just started her new job and had not had the chance to accumulate any hours.

"Daniel, no," Jen replied. "You were going to try to get some work done. This will be way too much work. The doctor said that—"

"It's fine, I can wait on the book," I said, and squeezed her hand. "Plenty of time to work on that. You can go to work, and I'll take care of Ben."

"Thanks, Dad," Ben said, his lungs rattling a little in his chest as he breathed. "I'll try not to be too needy."

Jen turned to him, and placed her hand on his cheek. "No, sweetheart. You be as needy as you can be." She smiled sweetly.

"Nah, I'm okay," Ben replied, smiling back at her. He had his mother's smile, as well as her hair and her eyes. He turned towards me and nodded, "We'll be all right, won't we, Dad?"

Jen and I stepped out of the dim room and Jen picked up the phone. She called Dr. Hancock and told him that the fever had gotten worse. I could barely hear Dr. Hancock as he explained to her what had likely happened and what we would have to do to help him. He said that we would need to give him a bath, in cool water, at least twice per day for the next week or so. Dr. Hancock said that if Ben hadn't improved after 3 days we should call him back and he'll take another look at him. The doctor seemed pretty confident that this would work.

After Jen hung up I stepped towards her and put my hands on her hips. I leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. "All right babe, it's time for work, huh?" I asked. "I'll give him his first bath after you leave."

She nodded and turned her head. "Damn . . . Okay." I let go of her and she made her way down towards our room. I just sat there in the living room reading the morning newspaper.

A few moments later and Jen was back, having just touched up her make-up. She looked really pretty today. I admired her as she stepped towards me to get her farewell kiss. Our lips embraced a few seconds longer than usual. Finally, she left me alone in the house with our ill boy.

I made my way back towards Ben's bedroom. When I entered I found him flat on his back gazing up at the bare ceiling. He held his head up a little when I came in.

"Hey, Dad," he said, pushing himself up against the pillows again. "What's up?"

I sat on the side of the bed. "Well, bud, the doctor is concerned but he says it's not too out of the ordinary," I started. "He says that you need to take a bath two times a day, in cool water."

"Ugh!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, I hear ya," I said. "So we should do that now, bud."

"Okay."

I stood up and watched him as he tried to sit up all the way. He was moving slowly and groaning. As he flipped his legs over the side of the bed he let out a sharp cry. "Dad!" he whispered, breathing hard. "It hurts!"

"The doctor said your muscles would hurt, so that's normal," I said. "Do you think you can make it to the bathroom?"

He tried again, this time standing up at the side of the bed. He wore a T-shirt and boxer shorts, both of which had sweat stains. After standing there for a few seconds he plopped right down onto the bed again, moaning.

"Do you need help?" I asked. "Do you got this, bud?"

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with tears. "I don't think I can, Dad," he said, his voice cracking a little. "Can you help me?"

I nodded and stooped down to put my arm around his back. "Eh, what the hell," I said, as I put my other arm below his knees. I grunted and picked him up off the bed. He was a pretty small guy, having taken after his mother's side of the family, and so I was able to lift him up so that he lay against my chest. He wrapped his arms around my neck and placed his head against my shoulder.

We made our way down the hall towards the bathroom. There, I placed him on the toilet seat lid. He seemed pretty steady there, though he groaned again and held the side of the sink as if he would fall at any moment. I turned away from him and started preparing the tub. We exchanged a few small words as we waited for the tub to fill up—but he really didn't look like he was in the mood to talk!

Finally, the tub was full of cool water and it was time for him to go in. "Okay, bud, it's ready," I said. "Do you think you can make it inside?"

He looked at the tub and then back up at me. He said, "Um, do you think you can help me?"

"Sure, son."

He struggled to grasp the bottom of his T-shirt, so I took it myself and helped him pull it up over his head. His bare, white chest was exposed. He had fresh sweat droplets forming on his shoulders. Next, I helped him remove his boxers. This was more difficult. I had to stoop right over him as I hooked my fingers beneath the waistband and pulled them down.

Finally he was ready. He sat there nude as the day he was born. He was totally exposed since he was using both hands to steady himself on the toilet seat. His penis had recently been shaved, I noticed. A few small hairs had started to grow but it was still pretty bare. It lay there shrunk, shriveled up into itself.

"Okay, bud, let's go," I said as I stooped over and picked him up a second time. This time I brought him to the tub and slowly lowered him into the water. It was not cold—just cool, maybe even a little warm. All around just mild. I let go of him and then turned to leave.

"Stay, Dad," Ben said. He had reached up and had taken my hand. He held it for a moment and then dropped it before continuing. "Keep me company."

I smiled at him and then took a seat on the toilet, much as he had done just a few moments before. "Okay, bud," I said. "Sounds good."

A few moments passed and I watched him as he closed his eyes and began to relax.

"This feels good, Dad," he said, looking up at me. "Thanks for the help. You're really nice for doing that."

I smiled again and told him that it was nothing. He closed his eyes again and then seemed to pass out for several minutes. I was thinking about leaving the bathroom when he said, "Can you wash me?"

I looked down at him and then at the shower scrub and body wash in the corner. "Sure," I said. "I can do that."

"Thanks."

I was wearing shorts so I just got down onto my knees beside the tub. I was now at his level. He reached over and handed me the scrub and the body wash. After that, he again closed his eyes and seemed to fall asleep.

I took the scrub and squeezed some body wash onto it. I lathered it up for a moment and then reached out and started with his arms. I scrubbed up to his shoulder and neck, and then under his armpits.

"That feels good," he said, opening his eyes again. He smiled at me. "Thanks."

He continued to watch me as I put the scrub under the water. I placed it against his chest and then all around his stomach. I brought it down to his groin and--pressed it against his erect penis.

I stopped moving and looked up at him. He had that same relaxed expression, as before, his lips spread only slightly. He looked satisfied. "Thanks, Dad," he said.

I looked back towards his groin, where the scrub was still pressed down against him. I couldn't see it—his hard penis—in the water, since the water was so soapy now. I took the scrub and moved it ever so slowly and gently down the length of him until I got to the tip. Next, I moved the it below, towards his balls, which I scrubbed lightly. I left his groin area and then went down his legs until I got to his feet and toes. Finally, a few moments later his body was clean.

"There, all clean," I said, taking the scrub out of the water. "Let me know when you're ready to go back to bed."

"I need to do my hair," he said now. He closed his eyes and then lowered himself until he was completely immersed in the water. When he came up again he smiled at me and asked if I could help him with the shampoo too.

I told him I would and so I lathered up his hair and then helped him rinse it off again. Now we were really done.

"Wow, thanks!" he said, his voice sounding much better. "I'm ready to go now." He bit his lip and looked up at me, and asked, "Can you help me back?"

"Here, I'll just go and get you some clothes," I said, standing up again and getting ready to turn around.

"No, Dad," he said, sitting up a little. "It's too hot. Can I just go naked, for now?"

I hadn't thought of that. He had been complaining about the heat in the bed—and the sweat stains proved it. I guessed that that would be okay. I nodded.

"Cool, maybe you can just put a towel on the bed or something, and dry me off there?" he asked. "I don't know. Whatever you want to do, Dad."

"Okay, I'll put some towels down." I left the bathroom and went to the closet where I found some towels. I took some thick ones and then went down towards his room. I laid a couple down onto the bed, with a third to the side. I went back to the bathroom.

"Ready, bud?" I asked.

He nodded, so I stooped down again as I had before except this time I took him up out of the water. I stood there above the water for a moment waiting for him to stop dripping. He gazed at me, into my eyes, his arms wrapped tight around my neck. "You're strong," he said, smiling again as before. "So strong, Dad."

I glanced down at his groin—and saw that yes, he was still hard. His penis was actually pretty long. It was pointing straight up towards my head. I brought my eyes back up to his and said, "Okay, let's go!"

I brought him back to the room and laid him down onto the towels. He lay spread-eagle now, that long, hard penis of his still pointing into the air so obviously. I stooped down over him so that I could dry him off. I dried everything off and then went down to his groin again. There, I padded him gently with the towel until it was mostly dry. I had him go onto his side so that I could wash his backside. His butt was round and smooth, like a girl's.

Finally, he was all clean and dry. I stood back and watched him hike himself up again against the pillows. He finally reached down and pulled a sheet half over himself so that only his bare chest was showing.

"Whew, I'm tired!" he yelled, looking so much better. "I'm going to take a nap, Dad. Thanks!" He closed his eyes and turned onto his side. I left the room.

I went back to my own room where I decided to take my own nap, but I couldn't sleep. I lay there thinking . . . thinking about it, about that long, hard penis. I remembered, too, the way he had smiled at me as I rubbed it with the scrub. His big blue eyes had sparkled and he had looked at me in much the same way that his mother had always looked at me.

As I lay there, I felt a slight stirring in my groin.

"Dad?" came his voice, calling from his room down the hall.

I shook my head and sat up. I got up from the bed and made my way down to his room. He had flipped on one of the lamps on the side of the bed and was just lying there with the sheet only covering his groin area. When I came in he smiled.

"Hey Dad, sorry to wake you up," he said. "But I have to go to the bathroom. Can you help me again?"

I nodded. "Sure, bud."

With that, he grabbed hold of the sheet and yanked it away . . . and there it was again, his penis. Except that this time it was soft. It wasn't shrunk as before; instead, it hung flaccid against his thigh.

I quickly averted my eyes. "All right, let's go," I said.

I stooped down, as before, and picked him up. I carried him to the bathroom and put him down on the toilet. Before I could leave, he had started to do his business. Thankfully, he had only had to urinate. I could hear it.

"I drank a lot of water, just now," he said. "Okay, I'm ready to go back."

I picked him up again and brought him back again to his bed. There, he pushed back again against the pillows except this time he didn't put the sheet back on, his penis as clearly on display as ever.

"Play with me?" he asked.

I felt my heart begin to speed up a little, and I swallowed. "Huh? Play with you . . .?"

"Yeah, PS4," he replied, and pointed at the controllers on the desk at the foot of the bed. "That new shooting game. Want to play?"

I smiled and sat down next to him. We played the game for a couple hours, during which he remained as nude as ever. As we played, I kept glancing down at his crotch . . . and then there it was again: his penis had gone hard just like before! I felt that stirring in my groin again as I found myself taking him all in now with my eyes, from top to toe. I finally looked down at my own lap and, sure enough, there was a bump. I was slowly getting hard myself!

Just as my character in the game was about to die (due to distraction), there was a soft knock at the bedroom door. I looked over and saw Jen, peering in cautiously but with a smile on her lips. "Hey guys!" She stepped in and looked at Ben. "Ben, where are your clothes?"

Ben threw the controller down and then lay back, sprawling so that his still rock hard penis was in view. "Hey Mom!" he said, remarkably vigorous. "It's just too hot for clothes!"

"I see that . . . okay." With that, she sat down at the side of the bed and seemed to forget that she was just a few inches from her naked son. They talked about their days, and I tried to contribute in a few ways before finally giving up and starting to head out of the room.

"You guys want some food?" I asked.

The rest of the night was uneventful. I ended up ordering us a pizza and we—Jen, Ben, and I—sat on Ben's bed and watched a movie together. Ben had covered up. He had to go to the bathroom again but this time Jen was there to help out. I lifted him while she stayed in the bathroom with him as he used the toilet and cleaned himself up. While we were in there, all of us had decided just to give him his evening bath right then. Again, I helped lift him up and put him into the tub but it was Jen who took over the washing duties while I waited outside. Through all this his penis remained either flaccid as before, or shrunk. I still kept taking glances at it, and feeling a strange sensation in my own penis. That feeling really bothered me, and I tried to think of other things.

Later that night, after we had put Ben to bed, Jen and I lay in our own bed talking about how the day had gone. I suddenly wanted her very badly and so I reached out and wrapped my arms around her, pulled her close, and began to kiss her sweet lips . . . but she stopped me.

"I'm so tired tonight, babe," she said, letting go of me. "I'm sorry. I'm not in the mood though."

I told her it was fine and so we turned off the lights and tried to sleep. I still felt super horny . . . but instead of picturing her, my wife, I was picturing our son Ben again. To my confused horror, I found myself imagining what it would be like to press my cock against him, or perhaps behind him, between those soft butt cheeks. I couldn't deny it: I was fantasizing about my own son!

I shook my head and tried as hard as I could to get him out of my mind. In my desperation, I again grabbed my wife and this time pulled her close towards me. She just groaned as I pressed my hard penis against her crack. I fondled her breasts. Again, she moaned. But then I was imagining him again: Ben. I imagined I was kissing his neck, spooning up against him as I was doing here, and—

"I'm trying to sleep, honey," Jen groaned, finally. She took my hand and pulled it away from her breasts. "Go to bed!"

I turned away from her and tried to follow her advice. Finally, I was asleep.

The next day we went through the same routine. Jen had to go to work so she made us breakfast and then said goodbye. She gave Ben a peck on the cheek and then she gave me a short but sweet kiss on the lips. She told us to have fun that day. I padded her playfully on the behind and then watched her as she got into her car and drove off.

Back in Ben's room, I found him asleep. I crept up to the bed and took a seat in a chair we had set up next to the bed. I watched him as he dozed. His bare chest rose and fell in slow, even movements. He looked so peaceful, his face so serene. He definitely had his mother's face. The resemblance suddenly seemed so striking to me at this moment, watching him as he dreamed.

I found myself looking down at his chest, gazing at each of his little nipples and then down at his flat, smooth stomach. The sheet went pretty low on him, so that I could see the start of his hips. So peaceful.

There it was: that stirring in my groin again. I looked at his lips and suddenly imagined would it be like to kiss them. How many times had he kissed someone in his life, I wondered. Was he a virgin? He had not told me of any sexual escapades. But why would he tell me? I felt myself growing hard. Within a few minutes I was fully erect and felt a slight moistness at the tip of my penis: pre-cum. I reached down and took the tip between my fingers and gently caressed it.

To my surprise, he suddenly opened his radiant blue eyes. He looked straight at my crotch, where I was touching myself. I quickly pulled my hand away and then folded my arms, so that I was covering myself.

"Oh, hey bud," I said, and coughed a little. "Sorry if I woke you up!"

He sat up and then shook his head. "No, it's fine. I just woke up on my own . . ." As he sat up, the sheet slid further down his hips so that everything above the crotch was now in view. I glanced down, very briefly.

"Sweet. Well, what do you want to do?" I asked. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest.

"I need my bath, don't I?" he asked, folding his arms. "Can you help me again?"

"Um, sure," I said, my voice uneven. I felt suddenly so nervous, even timid. "Just uh, let me go and get the tub and everything ready."

I stood up and turned from him so that he wouldn't see that I still had a pretty obvious tent in my shorts. I went to the bathroom, splashed a little cool water on my face, and then started to prepare the tub with cool water. I just sat there on the toilet seat, my mind racing. I kept asking myself what was happening to me, why I was starting to think about my own son in his way. Did I find him attractive? Was I gay? But I was still in love with Jen, and I had never had any thoughts like these about another man. Besides, this was my son! This was wrong! I was sick, or just going through a weird, quirky phase of some kind. This does happen to many people, right? All these thoughts and more troubled me and I felt at a loss of what to make of them.

The water was done and I went back to Ben's room. I found him totally nude, the sheet thrown to the side. He was semi hard.

"Hey, Dad," he exclaimed happily. His arms were on his hips. "Can you take me to the bathroom again, like before? I feel better but not all the way yet. Still hurts to sit up too much . . ."

I didn't say anything. I just nodded and then stooped over to pick him up. I felt his lips press against my neck, and he snuggled in a little . . . Was that on purpose? I tried again to banish such thoughts. No, I was not gay. I was madly in love with his mother. That's it!