From: jay.serafin@n9csa.com (Jay Serafin)
Subject: GAY - 1ST HUNTING TRIP
Date: Tue,  8 Mar 1994 14:43:00 GMT
Organization: Transponder 5 Comm./N9CSA BBS (312) 776-9768

                           THE HUNTING TRIP

Deer season in November has long been a tradition time among
the men in our family for long before I was born.  It is an
Arkansas ritual of total maleness where women are not allowed,
a time when the men go together deep into the woods to camp
and hunt.

Imagine ten or so middle-aged and young men cooking for each
other, drinking,talking sex, then culminating the day of
camaraderie by crawling into small tents to sleep together.

At last, after years of waiting, I was old enough to go --
considered strong enough to keep up on the run, to handle a
gun and to participate in the lewd talk and innuendo that fill
the days.

Finally the morning came and our little caravan of pick-ups
and cars left for the hunting grounds.  The anticipation built
as we moved along and I began to wonder about what lay ahead
in the week to come.

At sixteen my body had just entered manhood.  Our family mix
has produced a very pleasing genetic arrangement.  My mother
is dark Italian -- blue black hair, sharp features and olive
skin, while my father is a hulking 6'2" Norwegian with white
blond hair and a golden tan.  My chest was just forming a fine
spray of blond hair which would eventually whirl over my
stomach. Already my crotch and legs were thickly matted with
a tangle of hair -- it even spread somewhat down the length
of my cock.  When hard, my dick was 71/2 " and it showed no
signs of slowing down in growth.  Even then, I could only just
barely fit my fingers around it.

The first day at our campsite, we spend most of the morning
setting up, one central tent for cooking and meeting which
would sleep four, and then three smaller tents which would
sleep two each.

I was glad to see that I wasn't the only newcomer -- there was
my cousin Linda's new young husband, Kevin.  I couldn't help
wondering how his new blood would affect the family look.  He
is from strapping Irish stock, bright red hair, flawless skin,
green eyes.

We were just finishing dinner and since Kevin was to sleep in
the mess tent he was one of the first to begin to undress.

I had to suppress a gasp when his tee-shirt came over his head
revealing a wide expanse of red hair covering his chest and
stomach.  The most unusual thing about it was the way it stood
out between his nipples -- the hair there being so thick and
long it stuck out about two inches from the surface of the
skin.

From my chair at the foot of his cot I had a perfect view up
the wide leg of his boxer shorts.  Clearly visible were his
two huge hairy nuts, so large they filled the large gap and
obscured any view of his dick shaft.

We were all so tired that first night I don't even remember
lying down.  My hunt partner was my mother's youngest brother
Tony.  Just before dawn he was shaking me awake to get dressed
and I saw to my disappointment that he was dressed already.

On entering the mess tent my Uncle Jeff was cooking and he
told me that he hadn't been able to wake Kevin so would I mind
shaking him again.  After going through the small partition
at the back of the tent, my first sensation was the strong
scent of fresh sperm, then I did a double take!

Kevin was lying flat on his back, the covers kicked down to
his knees.  He was in the final throes of a wet dream!  His
cock head and four inches of incredibly thick shaft were above
his waist band far past his navel.

The finger-sized tube on the underside was still belching
blobs of come onto his stomach, but those first shots must
have been massive:  there were globs in his hair, on his
cheek, across his lips and even in the deep cleft of his chin;
his chest was streamed with great splashes of semen, the hairs
of his stomach were down and the great pool which filled his
navel was running off both sides of his abdomen.

He was still sleeping soundly, but I couldn't wake him like
this, so I grabbed a nearby towel.  After a few seconds of
mopping, the towel was pretty well soaked with sperm, but at
least Kevin was clean enough to waken.  His eyes came open
groggily.  He looked at me, then at his slowly relaxing meat.
He smiled shyly and made some lame joke about missing his
wife, or something.

Thoughts of Kevin kept me so horny all that day I wasn't much
into the hunt, but Uncle Tony didn't seem to mind much and the
hours passed fairly quickly.

After supper that evening, I could hardly wait to get to bed:
I was going to see Uncle Tony undress and tonight I wasn't
sleepy.  He had that super,healthy look of an extraordinarily
dark Italian stud.  At 18, his body was approaching the peak
of it's glowing health.

Dark black hair covered his chest and stomach, so thick that
you could hardly see the skin of his ridged belly underneath.
His legs were hairy, and even the tops of his feet and toes
had little patches of wonderfully dark hair.

He wore blinding white jockey shorts and the mound in the
front was so filled with soft dick and balls, the leg holes
were pushed open and a wide expanse of ball bag showed on
either side.

It was really getting colder that night, and as Tony slipped
into the double sleeping bag, he just naturally wrapped his
big muscular arms around me and drew me close.

"No sense in shivering when I got all this fur," he said.

"It feels great," I replied nervously, wondering if he caught
the anxiety in my voice.

After about fifteen minutes I could hear the rhythmic
breathing of steady sleep coming from Tony.  I had my back to
him and could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck.  And,
there was an inviting, warm mound pressing into my rear.

I began to slowly grind my ass and massage his dick with my
buns.  Instantly I felt the thick tube snake along my crack.

I scooted the sweat pants that I slept in down over my hips,
but I knew it was important to maintain the illusion of being
asleep and, as far as I knew, he still was.

The head of his dong made it over the top of his waistband;
then I could feel the thick foreskin pulling off the huge bell
shaped head.

His hips began to move ever so slowly.  He was pumping so much
pre-cum that soon my ass was slick with lube.

I had never been fucked before, as much as I had thought about
it, and I knew I had to try.  Tony was so big and handsome,
I just had to try to get him inside me, to feel him press his
rod in my hole.

Finally the head was positioned against my asshole.  It felt
like a small apple being pressed against a hole the size of
a dime but with the help of the steady flow of the pre-cum,
the head pushed/popped inside, then the shaft, inch by inch,
till I felt like I was going to burst.

I was trying not to cry out, yet I just had to know how much
shaft was left. I was afraid he might rip me apart.  But still
I tried to pretend sleep.  I found that when I raised my right
leg the pressure was much less, and eventually the discomfort
subsided and was replaced by an incredible warm glow.

I was in full jack knife position when I felt his mammoth
hairy nuts pressing into mine, and I knew he was in.  There
must have been at least 10 inches of wrist-thick cock up my
tight virginal asshole, at least that's how it felt to me, and
I loved it.

Almost too soon, I felt a hot splashing pressure inside my
rectum and I knew he was shooting his load.  Not a wild
passionate orgasm, but a slow surging release that gave me a
full, warm feeling.

His dick lost none of it's hardness and after about ten
minutes, he began making longer and longer strokes, this time
making a muffled grunt each time his rod fucked into my ass.

Now that there was the added lubrication of his first massive
cum load, I felt nothing but pleasure.  His wide dick head was
massaging my prostate and the thick hair on his lower shaft
was teasing my sphincter.

Without even touching my own dick, I suddenly came in great
belching spurts that shot onto my face - a large amount going
into my mouth and the rest on my chest and the sleeping bag.

And we continued for what seemed a sweet eternity.

Sometime after Tony had come a third time, I truly did fall
asleep, feeling as stuffed as a Thanksgiving turkey.

During the early morning hours, I awoke with a blinding need
to shit.  I crawled out of the tent and tried to hold the load
in my bowels, but great streams of thick white ooze were
running down my hairy young legs to my ankles.

When I was far enough away from the camp, I let loose with
what felt like a quart of the warm Italian sperm that had been
fucked up my shitter-hole by my beautiful Uncle Tony.

As I've gotten older, the hunt has become the anchoring point
of every year. No matter where I travel or what I'm doing,
nothing has ever been more important than returning in
November.  And, of course, tradition just wouldn't be complete
unless Uncle Tony is my partner on the hunt.

 * SLMR 2.1a *