Handjobs Magazine - Dad's BedTime Tales Vol. 13.pdf

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Dad's Bedtime Tales 13
Your mouth
very big mouth,
everyone tells me
I have a too big
mouth.
is perfect!
See, I have a
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Dad’s Bedtime Tales Volume 13
©Copyright 2011 by Avenue Services, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner
whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Dad’s Bedtime Tales Volume 13 is a collection of stories
from the Subscribers Section of our website:
A special thank you to those who contributed artwork:
Lord Iron
Player
Roger
For more information about Handjobs publications, please write:
Avenue Services, Inc.
PO Box 2000
Bow, WA 98232-2000
Or call us toll free at: 1-866-304-7848
Dad’s Bedtime Tales Volume 13
ISBN 978-1-886458-84-0
USD 20.00
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Handjobs Presents
Dad’s Bedtime Tales
Volume 13
Copyright © 2011 by Avenue Services, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole
or in part without written permission of the publisher, Avenue Services, Inc., a gay-owned and operated business.
Published by Avenue Services, Inc., PO Box 23219, Seattle, WA 98102-0519.
Handjobs is a trademark of Avenue Services, Inc.
Safe and sane sexual behavior is encouraged by the publisher. The publisher, editor and contributors to Handjobs
cannot be held responsible for accidents or injuries or any other misfortunes that results from proper or improper
application of information imparted or ideas generated by material in Handjobs. Handjobs is designed to be used
only as an aid for masturbation. Any similarity between people and places in the fiction in Handjobs and any real
people and places is purely coincidental.
No responsibility can be assumed for unsolicited material. All rights in letters sent to Handjobs will be treated
unconditionally assigned for publication and copyright purposes and are subject to Handjobs’ right to edit and
comment upon editorially.
Printed in the US.
Despite the terms such as “boy”, “kid” or “son”, all characters in the fiction of Handjobs are 18 years of age or older.
It may be against the law to have sexual intercourse with people under the age of 18, but we do print memoirs of
men talking about their own boyhood experiences.
This magazine is in compliance with the so-called “Child Protection Act of 1995”.
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The Whole Story
The only reason I volunteered to work on the school paper was
to spend time with Mr. Allen, the English teacher who advised the
students on putting out the paper. He was in his thirties, married,
had two little kids and all, but I just knew he really wasn’t all that
into that. I was 100% certain that what he really wanted was a boy
like me. I mean, who wouldn’t?
I thought working on the paper meant spending a lot of time sitting
next to Mr. Allen and probing his mind for insights in journalism.
Fuck no! He only attended our meetings once a week … and just to
provide some guidance. There was no one-on-one intensive meetings
with Mr. Allen. I mean, come on! I was crushed. What’s the point of
having a hot teacher advisor if he isn’t there every day to advise?
Instead, I got stuck with Gordon. One of the students who’d been
working on the student paper forever. He was my mentor. Us newbies
on the paper were all assigned a mentor. Big fucking deal.
I admit, Gordon was cute. Well, not cute … no, handsome. About
5’ 8”, dark hair, nice muscles, a basket that teased, you know the
ones that sometimes look that there is some hefty meat in there and
at other times you’re not sure? I think he dressed the way he did
just to confuse me. I hate guys like that. If you have it, don’t hide it,
baby. Spread a little joy in the world. Do your part.
But I digress. Someone came up with this lame idea that we should
do a series of reports on what our parents do for a living. Hello! This
is the School Paper, not the Parents of the Students Paper! Interview
me for god’s sake! I’ve got good student gossip to share.
Anyway, I got assigned the job of interviewing Gordon’s dad. And
he had to interview my dad. I didn’t see what the point was.
“So, anyway, Gordon, what does your dad do?” I asked him after
I’d calmed down.
“He’s a firefighter,” he told me.
“Oh?” I said. Too bad you’re interviewing my dad. He’s an accoun-
tant, I thought. “So he works out of a firehouse, slides down the
pole and all that?”
“He’s at the firehouse one week and then off the next,” Gordon
told me. “But they don’t have any fire poles. The firehouses are one
story. There’s nothing to slide down.”
“That’s too bad,” I said. “If there was a pole I could have taken
a neat shot of him coming down … you know, for the article. That
5
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