Date: Sun, 9 May 1999 05:51:59 EDT
From: Roarrr201@aol.com
Subject: Family Fuck Part II

FAMILY FUCK

written by: Roarrr201@aol.com
All rights reserved. 


Warning: If you are offended by graphic descriptions of sex between men,
you should stop reading now.

This story is a fantasy. People frequently have unsafe sex in it - please
don't feel encouraged to do the same. You might risk your life.



Family Fuck

Part II


After that day things were different between me and Uncle Bob.

Earlier on I had shunned him, now I stalked him. Before my strange
initiation to the charm of his smell I had frowned upon his habit of
showing off his body and walking around half-naked all the time, now I
couldn't wait to see as much of him as possible. I was overjoyed when he
rolled his sleeves up to mid-biceps, barring his thick and extremely hairy
forearms; excitement tingled in my guts when he wore his cut-offs and I got
to see his strong, heavily muscled thighs; my breathing became heavy when
my eyes could roam over his taut, high-riding buttocks, over his big balls
and his meaty dick, so tightly confined in those infamous running shorts; I
nearly passed out when I caught him bare-chested and drank in the sight of
his massive, hairy torso with hungry eyes while my dick stirred, jerked and
rapidly swelled to aching hardness in my pants. My gaze got clued to the
fleshy peaks of his tiny, hard nipples that punctuated the wide plateau of
his chest and almost disappeared in the thick mat of dark, strong hair; I
never tired of watching the bulge of his grapefruit-sized biceps or the
flexing of his heavy-weight pectorals; I marveled at the flatness of his
stomach and at the precision and clearly discernable shape of his strongly
developed abs while my rockhard cock dripped with pre-cum and soiled my
boxers again and again. I got hot even when he was formally and fully
dressed, preparing himself for his night shift, by looking at the
thickly-veined backs of his large, powerful hands and his iron-strong
fingers. Just the sight of the small tufts of wiry, black hair that
sprouted on his long fingers right between the knuckles made my mouth
water.

As you can see I really had a crush on him - to put it mildly.

We were alone together in the house for most of the day, since Dad worked
the day shift and did overtime til the early evening more often then
not. Therefore I had lots of opportunities to observe my hot uncle. I
became watchful, anticipating his movements around and in the house,
waiting for him to come out of his room right from the moment when I got
home from school, my throat tight, heart pounding, cock stirring in my
pants in anticipation. I began to spy, suddenly finding strategic areas I
had never before noticed, points-of-view from I which could see into areas
of the house and the garden where he might show up and feel that he was
alone and could become even more free in attitude and behaviour...

To some extent my diligence paid off and I managed to watch as he
absent-mindedly caressed his wide, bare chest, running his fingers lazily
through the thick forest of dark hairs that covered it, twirling them,
encircling his small tits or even pinching them playfully until they looked
even harder then before. Or I saw him cupping his huge balls in his pants,
lifting and squeezing them, smiling intimately down at himself, and then,
thinking that his movements were unnoticed, stroking the thick shaft of his
dick lighty through the thin fabric of his tights, obviously appreciating
its length and size, watching as it started to swell and raise, to become
even longer and thicker...

But much to my disapointment he always stopped fondling himself after just
a few moments. I invented elaborate silent prayers that he would go on and
pull out his dick, hard and erect, and close his fingers around the
fist-stretching girth and jack off before my eyes until he shot his load,
flooding the floor with his cum - but no, that was all in vain. Despite all
my observational skills, all my efforts and all my prayers I never saw him
completely naked and so I never saw his dick - neither soft nor hard.

Sometimes I thought that he was baiting me, that he knew what I wanted and
played a cruel game with me, enticing me into forgetting myself. One day he
seemed to parade his magnificent body, his bulging muscles, his hard ass
and thick dick right in front of my face, making sure that I got an eyeful;
the next day he made himself scarce and wore an over-sized shirt and baggy
pants when he came down to dinner. One day I felt his coal-black,
inscrutable eyes on me again and again, challenging, confronting, as though
daring me to reach out, clutch at him, at his hard pecs, his enticingly
juicy balls and at his meaty dick; the next day he was cold and distant and
took absolutely no notice of me.

So I was on fire all the time, feeling a throbbing ache inside me that was
bigger than me and more agonizing than I could bear to endure for long.

His clothes were my sole consolation: happily he still stuck to the bad
habit of leaving things behind almost everywhere in the house and I
followed him around, picked them up and ran off, clutching the garment to
my chest with trembling hands, throwing an aching hard-on just from
touching it, burying my nose in the cloth and taking the first deep sniffs
even before I was safely back in my room. Besides an occasional sock or two
that didn't do much for me it were mostly his shirts that I found, shirts
of all kinds: the stiff button-downs he wore on duty, undershirts of
various kinds, and the sweat shirts he put on for his workout. Of course
these were in my view still the best of them all, but I loved the other
ones too because they all smelled of him. Admittedly the scent varied
greatly in strength and intensity but invariably it made me hot, so hot
that I had to get my rocks off immediately. And I was constantly beating
off, inhaling the salty, virile smell again and again, jerking my angry
dick three or even five and six times a day, nearly every day, but still
there was no peace from my perpetual hunger for him, from the dry-throated
need to feel and taste that awesome flesh.

And then, after a week or so, I found his pants and briefs.

It was early in the morning and he had just come back from work - and there
they were, in front of the bathroom door, just like the shirt not so many
days before. My dick burst into a spontaneous erection with almost painful
rapidity and my breathing became labored while I lifted his underpants with
shaking hands to my face. I knew I had not much time since he was
understandably always yearning to get some sleep after the long night shift
and therefore kept personal hygiene to an absolute minimum at that time of
the day. Also Dad was busy in the kitchen downstairs, rummaging in the
drawers, so there was no privacy at all, no time to jack off slowly and
pleasurably while burying my nose in the smelly cloth, no time to picture
the overpoweringly male body that emanated this intoxicating, breath-taking
scent in all the glorious details, but still I couldn't let this
opportunity pass to be at least in some way near to that part of his body
that had become the centre of all my dreams and fantasies - his crotch.

Trembling and whimpering softly with excitement I pressed my face into the
pouch that had covered and held his huge balls and the thick shaft of his
meaty dick just a few moments ago. The fabric was still warm from the heat
of his body and also slightly moist from his sweat. A huge lump formed
itself in my throat and I was afraid that I was going to swoon and far too
excited to cherish the moment, but then, summoning up all my strength and
concentration, I inhaled slowly, calling upon all my senses to make sure
that these seconds would leave an indelible impression in my mind. I
inhaled, trying to analyse the scent, his scent, the scent of my hot, young
uncle, the scent of his crotch; I inhaled and grabbed my achingly hard,
drooling dick inside my pants, squeezing the throbbing shaft hard to
prevent me from cumming right then and there; I inhaled and my mind reeled
and I realized that this smell was definitely the one I knew and craved for
but that it was also different, very different: much stronger, even more
saltly, more acidly, more... I searched in vain in my mind for the right
word for a few seconds, but then it was suddenly there: more virile, more
manly, and I knew that I would remember this scent and yearn to have it in
my nostrils again for the rest of my life.

Eveything inside me seemed to melt into liquid fire and my cock throbbed in
my boxers and pants, the head all slimy with generously oozing pre-cum,
poised at the brink of explosion, one jerk away from a shattering,
splattering explosion, and then I realized that it was not just his sweat
that I was smelling (mingled as usually with the scent of soap), but there
other smells besides: that of piss (faint but still clearly discernable)
and of... of... of...

And then everything happened almost at the same time: I suddenly had a
hunch what this strange, new smell was and then the odor seemed to hit my
nostrils like a full frontal punch in the nose and the picture of Bob's
huge dick was suddenly in my mind again, but in even more details then
before, in more striking colors, hard and erect, the shaft swollen and
strained to bursting, glowing with a strength that popped ropy veins to the
surface, makig the bulbous head glassy-bright, satin-smooth, explosive with
virile power and beauty, and my own dick contracted, expanded and turned to
aching, burning steel in my pants and then burst under a slight squeezing
pressure of my hand, exploded into a cascade of frenzied spunk that shot
out of the gaping piss-slit in a long row of almost visciously strong
convulsions and flooded my crotch with hot, sticky cum that glued my skin
to the fabric of boxers and pants, and then I heard my uncle move around in
the bathroom, approaching the door, and I fled in panic, dropping his
briefs as if the cloth would burn holes through my skin. Only then, some
seconds later, when I was back in my room, safe from his eyes, my back
resting at the door, my chest heaving, only then had I time and strength
enough to sort things out and my whole body went limp as the fact finally
registered properly in my brain: I had just inhaled the scent of my uncle's
cum, of his jism, his semen, his man juice.

My dick, still spasming in my slowly subsiding climax, still gushing forth
glob after glob of creamy jism into my completely soiled boxers, refused to
go soft but swelled again to aching hardness and I cursed myself that I had
let go off the briefs, that I had not taken them regardless of costs to
adore them as a relic, to bury my nose in the smelly cloth again and
again. I almost fainted, weak with lust and excitement, and then the
details came back to me that had overwhelmed and confused me earlier on:
the dried-up white stains that I had noticed in passing and touched with my
fingertips when I had picked the clotch up, on the left side, where the
head of his long dick used to rest, and then I finally understood what I
had seen and smelled: my uncle, my hot, young uncle, whom I adored secretly
and from a distance, had shot his load at some moment during the night
shift and had then stuffed his still cum-dripping, sticky dick hastily back
into his pants.

And that knowledge made me not only hornier then ever before, it also made
me wonder: how on earth could he do this during his shift?

Oh, it occurrs to me that I haven't told you yet about my uncle's job.

Well, you see, he was a cop, just like Dad. So I asked myself: how could he
shoot his load when he was on duty, driving around with his partner all the
time? And I also asked myself feverishly: 'With whom has he done it? With
whom? With whom?' Had he pulled his hard dick out of his uniform pants
during a few solitary moments, overwhelmed by a sudden surge of lust during
the dead hours, while his partner went to take a leak, and bet himself to a
quick, comforting climax in the dark car, shooting his cum into a hanky
that he then carelessly tossed aside? Had he - like so many other cops - a
special 'arrangement' with a slut who worked the streets and went down on
him for free on a regular basis because he looked the other way when she
did business? Had an arrested offender made an offer too good to be refused
- an offer to suck him off or to bend over and spread the legs for him? Had
it been a woman or a man? Had be taken someone by force? Had he silenced
the protests of a kneeling offender by shoving his hard, drooling dick down
his throat, face-fucking his victim with long, fierce shoves, drowning the
man's deep-chested groans finally with a flood of his hot, sticky cum? Had
he pushed a hand-cuffed, screaming man against the wall in a dark, smelly
side-alley, riped his pants apart and fucked him hard with sadistic glee,
taking this tight ass with brutal shoves, shooting his load up the man's
sore asshole, to humilitate him and to get his rocks off?

Did he do it with his partner and buddy, a striking hunk of a man, whom I
had seen for a few seconds every now and then when he dropped Bob off after
work? Did they jack off together in the car to while away the time, bored
to death in the long nights when everything remained quiet? I suddenly
remembered that this guy's name was Dick and immediately my ever active
mind took up the clue and came up with totally new fantasies about my hot
uncle in totally new situations. Did Bob go down on this guy, who was even
bigger and more heavily muscled than he himself? I saw my uncle down on his
knees, behind some bush in the park, his cap beside him on the earth, his
full, sensous lips tightly wrapped around Dick's hard cock (and of course
that dick took on enormous dimensions in my mind), sucking furiously, his
head bobbing up and down on the incredible thick shaft of man meat that was
drilled deep down into his throat, strangling him, and he moaned and
groaned around the huge, throbbing prick, plunging himself enthusiastically
onto that giant rod, aching for the man's cum, jacking himself off while he
sucked ravenously, his fly open, gaping, cock out, drooling in his stroking
fist, the head bright and glittery with slimy pre-cum, and then Dick, that
bastard of a cop, suddenly pulled his jerking dick out of Bob's clamping
lips, beating the fiery rod right in front of his face, pumping it hard and
fast with his strong hand, his face contorted by the urgent need to cum,
and then he shot his cum, a first-class-load in thickness and volume, all
over my uncle's beaming face, shooting long strings of gleamingly white
jism into Bob's thick, coal-black hair, beading his long lashes, filming
his lips with sticky cum, splattering his cheeks and his stubbly chin with
huge globs of his cream, and then I saw Bob himself shaking and trembling
in climax while his dick got bigger and harder and thicker and stiffer in
the tight grip of his hand, and then he came hard in a row of spasming
convulsions, spraying the earth between his wide-spread knees with an ocean
of cum and then he extended his tongue, licking away all of the jism around
his mouth that he could reach with the agile tip of his tongue and then
Dick bent down and started to slurp up his own juices from my uncle's
handsome face.

On the one hand this fantasy made me tremble with lust, on the other hand
it felt like a stab into my heart and a wave of burning jealousy washed
through my mind. I didn't want to picture my adored uncle like that, taking
the passive part, drooling for another man's cum, but my mind just reeled
with possibilities. Since I hadn't the slightest clue about his actual
sexual preferences, everything seemed possible and I couldn't prevent
myself from inventing new scenarios. For a change I pictured him as the
agressor once again, shoving his hard dick up his buddy's asshole, slapping
the man's taut buttocks hard to relax the clamping ring muscle, his cock
surging to new dimensions in the tight grip of hot cop ass, gasping,
lunging forward with all his strength into the man's super-tight asshole
while Dick tossed his head, his whole body tensing, arching up from the
point of inpalement, his spine curving acutely, crying out in agony and
hunger, begging to be fucked hard and deep, but then the image was blurred
for a moment and the roles were reversed, and I saw my uncle as the bottom,
my heart bleeding, my dick drooling, saw him sprawled over the car's hood,
pants down to his ankles, legs spread wide, his hairy ass high up in the
air, impaled by his partner's giant dick, accepting, welcoming, panting,
his body shaking with Dick's hard thrusts, both of them writhing,
squirming, thrashing, their faces gleaming and dripping with sweat, and now
it was Bob who begged to be fucked, his voice a husky, harsh snarl,
screaming for more hard cock and for more... for more...

As you can easily guess I was of no use to anybody that morning. In school
I walked around in a haze, lost in my reveries, my face glowing with
arousal, my dick rockhard in my pants. Every now and then I realized that
people starred at me with curious or bewildered eyes or giggled behind my
back because of my strange behaviour and because of my obscenely tented
shorts and I tried to pull myself together and to will my hard dick down,
but after some moments I indulged again in my over-heated day-dreaming and
my cock became even harder then before. However, when I was finally
finished at school I had come up with a decision: I was determined to throw
myself at my hot, young uncle to put an end to my silent longing and then
brave the consequences, whatever they might be.

But things turned out somewhat different.

The house was completely quiet when I got home, so I gathered that he was
still asleep. This was not unusual since he slept into the late afternoon
more often than not. I moved around the house as quietly as possible and
felt suddenly peaceful and at rest since I knew the object of my burning
desires to be near - but not so near than to cause me any pain.

But this changed dramatically when I finally went upstairs: right at the
landing I noticed that the door to uncle Bob's room stood slightly ajar. I
froze and listened intensely. Nothing. Not a sound was to be heard. I
approached quietly, on tip-toe, carefully avoiding all the squeaky
boards. When I finally stood before the small opening between frame and
door my heart was hammering violently in my ears and my cock was steel hard
in my pants, frighteningly hard, just from anticipation - but all I could
see was an empty corner of the sparsely furnished room.

Slowly, more slowly and more cautiously than you can ever imagine I pushed
the door open with trembling, sweaty hands and slowly the room came into
sight, softly glowing with the warm light of the afternoon sun that
filtered in small stripes through the shades and the closed curtains. My
heart leaped as I saw his shoes and then his clothes, carelessly dropped to
the floor: his socks, pants, briefs and shirt. I also noticed that the air
in the room was ripe with his scent and goose-flesh appeared on my back and
my dick jerked violently as I slowly inhaled the heady smell. And then, at
last, the door still sliding open like a curtain that is pulled to the
side, I saw him, sprawled on the bed.

He lay on the side, facing me, but head and shoulders were slightly turned
so that I saw his face only in profile. His eyes were closed and he was
sound aslepp. Suddenly I heard his very soft, almost inaudible breathing
that till then had escaped my notice. And he was naked, uncovered, except
for one corner of the sheet that hid his loin. His magnificently strong,
muscular body looked innocent, vulnerable, yet exhibitionistically
displayed as if someone had carefully arranged this scene to present him in
the most alluring way imaginable.

I sighed, stunned by the wonder of this stud, and my resolution to lunge at
him crumbled into nothing. Reluctanty I lingered at the door, eager to
prolong this precious moment of secret voyerism but also afraid that my
presence might wake him - but then need and hunger got the better of me: I
had to take advantage of this situation, I had to see more, I had to be
closer to him. I just had to.

And so I stepped into the room, leaving the door once again slightly open,
moving in some kind of super-slow-motion, waiting for long seconds before I
dared to approach one step closer, and then another one, sweating like a
pig, my skin feverishly hot and freezing cold in turns, listening at his
soft breathing, never turning my eyes away from him, watching out for the
slighest sign that he might wake up, ready to dash out of the room at any
second. But he didn't stir in his sleep and so I found myself right in
front of him after endless moments of sneaking up to the bed.
 
Bending down slowly - very, very slowly - over his sprawled body and
holding my breath I realized that I had seen nothing of him yet: he was
still more beautiful and more over-poweringly sexy from up close than from
a distance. And I drank in his sight with hungry eyes, focusing my
attention in turns on various parts of his glorious body: his finely
chiseled nose and lips, the square, stubborn jaws, adorned by a very strong
five-o'clock-shadow that ran out in an amazingly clear and elegantly shaped
line high up on his well tanned cheeks and deep down on his thick neck
under the prominent Adam's apple, broad shoulders that tapered down to
narrow and trim hips, his super biceps, arched high and flawless in
impressive roundness under velvety skin even when totally relaxed, the
hairless indentures of his collarbones and the small hollow at the base of
his throat, the wide plateau of his phenomenally developed pectorals,
covered by the luxuriant thickness of that mat of black hair, emphatic
against the smoothness of his flat, muscle-plated stomach, the small line
of hair that ran down over it. leading to his crotch, and disappeared
behind the sheet. My fingertips itched and I could hardly prevent myself
from reaching out and running them playfully through that dark thicket of
wiry, glistening hair on his upper torso or brushing them ever so lightly
over his tiny, erect nipples, thrown into high relief by a beam of
sun-light that fell through an opening between the shades and drew a fine
line of light across his huge chest that moved almost imperceptibly up and
down with his soft breathing. And my eyes roamed over his long legs, his
strongly muscled and also very hairy thighs and down to his fine, highly
arched feet. The room was pretty warm and therefore his well-tanned skin
was gleaming with a thin layer of sweat and I yearned to stick out my
tongue and lap up all these tiny pearls of smelly fluid, to give him a
thorough washing from head to toe and then back up again with my wet, agile
tongue.

But of course I didn't dare to touch him - I just stared and stared and
stared while my mouth watered, my heart hammered, my balls ached, my dick
drooled with sticky pre-cum.

Finally my eyes got glued to his crotch, the only part of his body that was
not available to my gaze. It was covered by one corner of the sheet that
was drapped over his hip and fell down, crumpled up, to the mattress in a
mulitude of irregular, intricate folds. It looked like a frozen waterfall
and the white fabric stood in striking contrast to his darkly-hued skin. In
vain I tried to discover the outlines of his balls and his cock - his in
all likelyhood hard and erect cock - under the folds but then I suddenly
noticed a slight throb in this heap of white cloth, a slight flutter,
recurring from time to time, and the rate of my pulse doubled in speed and
my achingly hard cock, still confined in my pants, shook in spasmic jerks
as I realized that something big, thick and heavy was moving there under
this loosly-drapped sheet, throbbing, pulsing, and that this could be
nothing else than a very large and very thick dick - his dick, his real
dick, hard and erect.

A quick glance up to his tranquil face reassured me that he was still fast
asleep and so I got bold and dared the ultimate: I knelt down in front of
the bed, reached out with trembling hands and started to raise the fabric,
listening intensely for any change in the sound and rythm of his faint
breathing. I'm sure no man has ever moved his hands with such caution and
self-control and so slowly like me back then when I slowly, so very, very
slowly, lifted fold after fold of the gleamingly white sheet. Sweat
appeared on my front in large drops and ran down into my wide-opened eyes
and the muscles in my raised arms started to hurt from the strain but I
persisted, feeling like a new, nameless knight of King Arthur, who
succeeded in the task all the others had failed of and who is now about to
unveil the holy grail.

And then I saw it, not the grail, but his dick - and in my view this was
much better than the mysterious chalice could ever be. As I had hoped it
was rockhard; as I had always guessed it was huge, really huge - a giant of
a dick. The outlines of the thick, but still soft shaft under the thin
fabric of his running tights that had set my mind on fire each time I saw
them had not promised too much - on the contrary: his dick was even bigger
than I had imagined. From a thick bush of tumbling, dark groin curls jutted
a mast of hard, throbbing flesh almost ten inches long. The vein-etched
shaft - perfectly round and straight as an arrow - was more than four
inches thick, not just at the base but on the whole length, right up to the
massive, brightly red cockhead, wide-flaring at the base, blunt-tipped
where the generously shaped piss-slit topped its crown. My eyes roamed over
the intricate pattern of veins on the throbbing thickness of this meaty
rod: there were several, some small, thin and winding, some strong,
straight and so prominent that you could almost see the blood pulsing
beneath the darkly-hued skin. His incredible, lemon-sized balls swayed
heavily, suspended close against the silk-skinned groin, so heavy and
tight-skinned that they jutted forward emphatically and then his sleek
inner thighs suddenly quivered in response to some inner stimulus, to a
sexy dream, and the thick shaft of his giant dick jerked and swayed gently
up and down until the weight of all this hard, power-packed meat pulled the
cockhead down again. A small pool of pre-cum had gathered there and seeped
down into the mattress and I watched with unblinking eyes as a new drop of
the clear lube appeared at the long, vertical piss-slit, gathering and
growing in size until it dropped down onto the wet spot. I gazed in awe and
wonder at this impressive pole of cockmeat, feeling the strong heat it
emanated at the skin of my face, enthusiastically inhaling the
over-poweringly strong smell of male crotch sweat and I felt the almost
unbearably strong urge to plunge myself whole-heartedly onto the man's
loin, to sink that giant throat-stabber to the hilt into my mouth and
throat and suck ravenously, gulping down all those beautiful, hard inches
of long, fat, thick cockshaft in just one lunge and to suck and suck and
suck at it until he couldn't hold out any longer and had to spurt a
fountain of hot cum into my greedy, gurgling mouth, still half-asleep, not
sure if he had a sexy dream or if the hot wetness that engulfed his dick
was for real.

But of course I didn't have the heart to do it. So I went on staring and
suddenly my aching lust became the opposite: an almost chaste whorship -
and then, feeling very mature and sensible, I told myself that I could
never hope to be the equal of this miraculously superior being, that it was
my fate to be the most humble of all his without a doubt numberless
admirers, that it would be daring to assume that he would want me.

Right then, when I had come to this sober conclusions and had made up my
mind to turn away, to move toward my own room to cry because I couldn't
have him and to jack off because I could think of nothing but him, right
then my hot uncle stirred and rolled onto his back, breathing deep. Then he
started to cough and of course I paniced and dived down to the floor. But
after some seconds he stopped and I raised my head and saw as he ran one of
his huge, strong hands down over his heaving, sweaty chest, his eyes still
closed, his face still tranquil like that of a man lost in dreams,
scratched at his groin hair and then angled his hand into his crotch,
fisted the throbbing thickness of the swollen cockshaft and squeezed it,
milking it for a huge drop of glistening pre-cum and moaned gently in
unconscious pleasure. Then he was still again and I told myself that I
should move out as fast as possible, that this was my last chance to avoid
an extremely embarrassing situation, but I found that I was glued to the
spot, that I couldn't bring myself to leave.

So the inevitable happened.

He coughed again (and this made his hard dick jerk and jump like made),
tossing his head, and I dived down for the second time and sought shelter
in the only place that could be reached that fast: under his bed, feeling
extremely silly but also very nervous at the same time. As might have been
expected, it was pretty dusty down there - which made me even more nervous
since I was afraid that I might sneeze and make myself noticed. I heard and
felt him moving above me and more dust fell down on my face out of the
mattress with each of his movements. He cleared his throat for several
times and without seeing him I suddenly knew that he was awake now. Sweat
appeared on every pore of my skin while I tried to image what might
happened if he found me. Could there be an explanation why I was there that
was not ludicrous?

My mind reeled, searching for an answer to this question, but then I was
suddenly distracted. He moved again on the bed above my head, but these
were not the lazy, drowsy movements of a man who awoke from a long sleep
anymore, no, these were the slight but determined and rythmic movements of
a man who held his rockhard dick in a tight-fisted grip and jacked himself
off, working his cock in spasmic jerks and strokes quickly to a shattering
climax. I gasped involuntarily and froze, afraid that he might have heard
me. But he went on, moaning softly now, and my trembling hands lunged into
my soiled, sticky pants and pulled my rockhard dick, slimy with pre-cum,
out of the fly and, overjoyed, at the bring of explosion right from the
beginning, I joined him and moved my warm, moist hand up and down on my
fevered dick in unison with the creaking of the bestead, this clear sign of
the movements of his strong hand on his hard dick. And then I heard his
voice too, throaty and husky, murmuring softly to no-one in particular:

"Ohhhh, yeah... yeah... that's hot... so hot... feels so hot... incredible
hot... need to cum... yeah... to cum... fast and hard... won't last
long... too horny... much too horny... from that dream... hot dream... made
me so hot... yeah... and... I'll be there fast... real fast now... need to
cum... to cum right now!"

I moaned almost inaudible under the bed, fingering my rockhard, explosive
dick with increasing urgency, and pictured his body, right above my head,
on the bed, gleaming with sweat, muscles flexing and bulging, toes curling,
the mighty chest heaving, his tits hard and erect, his head thrown back,
mouth open with excited groans, the incredible length of his dick jerking
in his strong hand, the shaft looking strained to the point of bursting,
and I waited for him, waited for him to give the signal... And then I heard
his deep-chested voice again and it gained suddenly not in volume but in
intensity:

"Yeah... yeah... now... now... I'm ready... ready... to
cum.... here... here... ohhhh, sweet Jezus... I can't hold... it... can't
hold it... any longer... I... ohhhh, shit... holy
shit... I'm... I'm.... cummin'... cummmmm.... ohhhh, yeah, I'm
cummmin'.... cummmminnn'!"

And so did I in my dusty hide, right at the same moment when he roared with
lust above my head: I froze, every muscle taut, straining, arched my pelvis
sharply and came like I had never came before, jerking in shattering
spasms, writhing on the dirty parquet like my hot uncle writhed on the bed
above me, trembling, shaking, groaning just as he did as explosive spurts
of jism shot out of my swollen, twitching dickhead and sailed through the
air and chrashed at the underside of the mattress and splattered jucily on
my tee-shirt while I pictured my uncle's dick, shuddering in climax,
erupting endlessly with huge globs of glitteringly white cum that splashed
on his stomach and on his hairy chest as he emptied his huge balls again
and again.

My whole body went limp and I lay as though dead for long
moments. Listening to Bob's hard breathing that slowly became normal again
I felt more content then ever before in my live: in a way I had cum
together with my adored uncle and I told myself that I could never aspire
to anything better than this. But fate held more in store for me.

After long moments of recovery, right when I nervously realized again that
I still had to get out of the room unnoticed and that I hadn't the slighest
idea how this could be done, right then I noticed a movement beside my head
out of the corner of my eye.

He had moved his arm to the side and now forearm and hand were languidly
hanging down from the bed, hovering in mid-air between floor and
mattress. My heart leaped and I held my breath when I took a closer look
and saw that his hand was still soiled with his cum: the precious liquid,
glistening brightly white in the warm sun-light, oozed thick and syrupy
down his long, strong fingers, clinging to the small tufts of dark hair
that grew there, liquifying slowly, seeping lazily down over his knuckels,
coating his beautifully shaped fingernails. Enraptured I watched as a huge
drop of the inert fluid gathered at the tip of his index finger, growing
slowly like a drop of water in a leaking faucet. When it became too large
the glob dropped down to the floor with a soft, juicy 'splash', drawing a
silvery string of the sticky fluid behind. My mouth went dry at this sight
and my dick, although still leaking with cum in the aftermath of my very
recent climax, started to swell and unbend again. Silently I prayed that he
would leave the room without cleaning up this mess there on the floor - so
that I would have the privilege to do it, to do it by sticking out my
tongue and lap it up!

And for once my prayers were heard. Suddenly he was on his feet in front of
the bed and then he left the room, stark naked, without turning around,
without looking back. I sneaked out of my hide, covered with dust from head
to toe, my heart hammering wildy, when I heard him close the bathroom door
and lunged at that wet spot on the floor, hardly able to control
myself. Once again excitement coursed through the rigid tension of my
rockhard dick and the thick shaft throbbed and leaped on its own
strength. Slowly I brought my face down to the parquet, inhaling the sweet
scent of my hot uncle's cum - the same scent that I had smelled for the
first time only that very morning, but of course it was much stronger now -
and, wrapping my sweat-and-cum-lubed hand around my pulsing, aching dick, I
solemnly opened my mouth, stuck out my spit-covered tongue and then I
licked up my hot uncle's hot, sticky cum, I licked it up from the dusty
floor in long, determined strokes, shoved it into my mouth and gulped it
down after chewing on it for a second or two to relish the flavour. I
tasted cum for the very first time - but like in all other things that had
to do with uncle Bob I turned out to be a natural: I loved it, I just loved
it! It tasted great - a strange, heady mixture of sweet and salty, a taste
unlike anything else I knew, a taste that made me even hotter then before.

Inevitably that did it for me once again: I thrashed on the floor
helplessly, whimpering, gurgling, and miraculously pumped another huge load
of hot cum out of aching balls, flooding the parquet with a sea of jism,
with spurts and gushes of sticky cream that splattered and splashed
everywhere. When I was finally done, I felt so drained that I though I
would never be able to walk on my feet again.

But of course I had to get out of the room. Pulling all my strength
together, I got up and looked around for a piece of cloth to sweep up the
huge pools of my cum. Since I didn't see anything that Bob would not have
missed right away, I used my tee-shirt: I pulled it over my head and
hurriedly wiped the floor clean as good as I could. Then I left his room
quickly and quietly. I ran down the stairs and sought refuge in the kitchen
since I was afraid that I might run into my uncle when I lingered in the
first floor. I needed time to calm down, to come to terms with the fact
that in all likelihood this would be my most intimate experience with him.

Standing before the table, bare-chested, my cum-soiled shirt still in my
hand, still breathing hard, I tried to think about a way how to face him
when he would come down in a few minutes. Would I be able to pretent that
nothing had happened? But then I felt a swift, soft movement behind me. A
strongly muscled, very hairy arm sneaked around my heaving chest and pulled
me back in an achingly tight grip while I virtually passed out for a second
or two with excitement and fear. When I came back to my senses I found
myself in the agonizingly strong embrace of uncle Bob, his hard, bulging
pecs pressed against my bare shoulders, his wiry, prickly chest hair
scratching the tender skin on my naked back, his head besides mine, his
stubbly cheek rubbing over my ear. I gasped and tried to fight but he held
me in just one arm like a toy.

Then he spoke, his lips right at my ear:

"Want some more?," he asked, his voice soft and husky.

"Wh-aa-at do y-ou mean?," I stammered exasperated, not sure if I had heard
him right.

Instead of an answer he raised his free hand in front of my face and I
think I passed out again when I saw that it was still dripping with
generous globs of his sticky jism, but I was immediately wide awake when
his cum-smeared fingers brushed over my lips, coating them with a thin
layer of my own jism. Then his fingertips pressed down on my lips, prying
them open, spreading them apart, and I started to cooperate happily,
suppressing a fit of roaring, joyous laughter, and my tongue sneaked out
and eagerly I started to lap and lick up all the cum that I could gather on
my tongue. He shoved his fingers into my mouth and down into my throat as
far as possible and I swirled my tongue around the smeared digits until
they were clean again, mixing his cum with my spit and then gulping the
heady mixture down with great relish.

And believe me or not: my dick got instantly rockhard again.

But I hardly noticed that. Something distracted me: it was my uncle's
mammoth cock that started to swell and unbend between my buttocks.



(to be continued)

Comments are welcome; constructive criticism is appreciated and welcome.

Roarrr201@aol.com