The conversation went like this:
“Dad, can I tell you something private?”
“Well, when my girlfriend, Cindy…”
“Yes, lovely girl. I met her, remember?”
“Well, when we had sex for the first time…”
“Gary, you’re 18 now. I can’t tell you want to do. Who to have sex with and when. I can only advise. You know about pregnancy and STDs of course, right?”
“No Dad! Listen. It’s not that.”
“So when we, um… did it, it hurt a little bit. We tried anal, it was so painful I couldn’t even get in.”
“I’m a little surprised you’d try anal so soon. But anyway, it’s natural that you’d be hurting her. You have to be very slow and gentle…”
“NO DAD! It didn’t hurt her. It hurt me.”
“My foreskin, it was all kind of ouchy, like when I try to pull it back.”
“OK, lemme see.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Gary, I changed your diapers, remember? I’ve seen your wiener since you were a baby. You even had little erections. It was so cute…”
“Geez, Dad! But you haven’t seen me since I was like four years old.”
“So, it’s embarrassing.”
“Ah, I understand. Now shut up and let me take a look.”
Reluctantly, I lowered my shorts. My father not only took a look, he just reached out and grabbed my penis, holding it this way and that. Then, to my almost horror, he mumbled something about checking my balls for lumps, and proceeded to feel up my testicles in my scrotum. I swear, I started to chub up! Then, he pulled my foreskin back.
He immediately let go. “Gary, I need to see your cock erect.”
It was shocking to hear my own father say ‘cock.’
“Um, I don’t think so, Dad.”
“OK, I understand. Take it up with your mother then.”
I hesitated before answering, “No, that would be worse.”
So, right there in front of my father, I started wanking my already semi-hard penis. It stayed semi-hard. The situation was just too weird.
“Here, let me,” and without waiting for my response, he pushed my hand out of the way, and started jerking me off, his own son!
I became hard right away. I wouldn’t have expected that.
This time, more gingerly, he pulled my foreskin back a little bit, then let go of my penis, announcing, “Gary, I’m so sorry. You have the same condition as me. You inherited it. It’s called ‘phimosis.’ It’s an overly tight foreskin.”
I must have looked all worried. What he said next just made matters worse. Way worse. He scared me to such a degree my heart jumped into my throat, beating 100 miles an hour.
“Son, I had the same thing. I hadn’t met your mother yet. Hadn’t had sex with anyone, but I decided to have a circumcision when I was 19. Just one year older than you are now. I was in the air force then, and a doctor told me I should have it done.
In retrospect, it was one of the worst decisions of my life. You see, it hurt like hell for two weeks afterward, and for well over a year, my cock felt funny. Like just brushing against my underwear was an unbearable tickle. One’s glans which has always been covered has to get used to touching things. To top it off, all I wanted to do back then was fly, and they wouldn’t let me go near an airplane for two months. My buddies in the academy were having all kinds of great adventures, and I was playing solitaire in the barracks. Then too, they knew what happened to me, and just couldn’t keep themselves from joking around. It hurt to move, but a couple of punches in their faces settled things down.”
My emotions were sinking fast. From the sound of it, circumcision was the last thing I would have wanted.
My father, evidently seeing the look on my face, quickly added, “What I should have done was stretching exercises. You can do that instead. I’m rather certain surgery will not be necessary.”
“OK, so how do I do that?”
“From what I’ve read – and what I wish I had read before the surgery – it’s simple. You get erect, then you pull the skin back to the point of pain, hold it that way for several seconds, let go, and do that over and over again. You can do it every time you masturbate.”
“What? Are you going to tell me you don’t jerk off?”
“…Um, no, I, um, just don’t like talking about it.”
“OK, I understand. By the way, you can put your pants back on.”
A week later, my dad asked how things were going, with a glance toward my crotch, indicating he was talking about the whole penis thing.
“Oh, I kind of forgot about it.”
“Gary, like I’ve told you with many other projects you’ve undertaken, it won’t get done unless you start.”
“What about you and, what’s-her-name, um, Cindy?”
“Oh, you know.”
“She’s been giving me handjobs.”
“And what have you been doing for her?”
“Well, nothing, really.”
“And she’s satisfied with that? And, you’re satisfied with handjobs?”
“Um, well, no.”
“So son, DO THE EXERCISES!”
“It’s just too weird.”
“Well, if you think that’s weird, if you won’t do them, we’ll have your mother do them for you.”
“OK, O-fucking-K, I’ll start.”
Another week passed, and somehow, I had been involved in baseball, school and all, and I hadn’t started. Dad was exasperated. During dinner, right there in front of my two sisters, he explained the whole thing in plain English to my mother, asking her to perform the exercises on me. I could have just died, having everyone hear about my penis situation like that. The girls giggled. My mom, laughing but obviously shocked, absolutely refused.
To shorten an overly long story, it turns out that the duty fell to my dad. Still living at home and all, I couldn’t get out of it.
The first time was, let’s say, interesting. He had me strip naked on my parents’ bed. Perhaps out of solidarity, maybe to make me feel better, he stripped naked too. It was interesting seeing his penis for the first time, at least the first that I could remember. It was all remarkably hairy down there. Other than that, his penis looked quite like mine when soft. I somehow would have expected it to be bigger.
I have to say, I felt totally awkward. I sure as hell didn’t have an erection. My father reached forward with one of his big hands, and started very gently rubbing my scrotum with his fingertip. Or rather, the few curly hairs on my scrotum. It was the lightest touch imaginable, and it made me jump with a sort of chill, or maybe you might call it a ‘thrill.’
He did it again, over and over. Then, he swiped a finger tip up the length of the underside of my penis. Another chill/thrill, this one bigger than the first. He did it a few more times, and sure enough, I was totally erect. I could feel my foreskin stretched tight, which kind of added to the rather nice feeling of being erect. But what was I thinking? This was my father, and a guy, at that! Wasn’t this gay or something? But I decided not to question my father. He’s always been a strong authority figure, so I figured he knows what he’s doing. Like, this was really a treatment, not anything sexual, right?
I knew intellectually, that I had to be erect for this to work, and yet, I was terribly embarrassed to be in that state right in front of my own father.
I’m sorry, this is kind of a rambling story.
[Oh, no, I’m enjoying hearing about it.]
OK, so basically, he pulled my foreskin back, over and over again, like ten times. Then he said, “Finis. Go on, get out of here,” with a smile on his face.
I walked out of the room with my still-hard penis wagging in front of me. As if things weren’t just about as embarrassing as they could get, one of my sisters walked through the hallway at the same time, and saw me walking there with a big ol’ erection. She giggled and ran to her room. I ran to my room too. It was all too much for me to process. I fell in a heap on my bed, curled up in a ball, so I could think. The next thing you know, I was jerking myself to one of the best orgasms of my life!
Every day, my father did the exercises. For the first ten days or so, it was the same each time. Every day, right afterward, I’d wank to a crashing ejaculation in my room. Then one day, I came in my dad’s hands. He was like, “Um, oh… um, well, that really isn’t supposed to happen…” I think he was as embarrassed as I was.
To my relief, he skipped the next day. The day after that, he announced that I should get naked and be in my parent’s bedroom at 6pm, the usual time. My parents have always been jokers even though they are also kind of strict, but this time took the cake.
I walked naked across the hall already erect, hoping my sisters wouldn’t see me, into my parents room. There I was confronted by my mother, who announced she’d be doing my exercises today. She, just like my father, had entirely disrobed in solidarity. Looking at my skinny mother with her big, pendulous boobs, and shaved crotch was a real shock. Shaved crotch! That’s right. I was able to directly see the very slot I came out of. And she saw me, erection and all.
The exercise with my mother was well underway by the time the embarrassment and weirdness started to wear off. She was gentler than Dad, and I had to tell her she could pull harder on my foreskin. As you might have guessed, I did ejaculate all over her hands almost right away. The hard part, no pun intended, is that she wasn’t deterred. Dad knew enough that when a guy cums, his attitude immediately shifts, and he can’t stand having his penis touched any more. Mom just kept going. It was excruciating, not due to the stretching of my foreskin. It was just too ticklish, too intense right after ejaculating. I told her to stop, and tried to push her hands away like three times before she relented. Both of us were laughing all the way.
It took several months before the exercise paid off, but they did. Along the way Cindy helped, and I did the exercises myself when I jerked off. I still have a foreskin, but now it retracts harmlessly over my glans.
I am extremely grateful for the help from my parents.