Date: Sun, 5 Jul 2020 12:43:20 -0400
From: Bart <ahungrybear@aol.com>
Subject: Lessons From Uncle Samuel, Part 1

Hope you enjoy my first story. Comments are welcome to
Ahungrybear@aol.com. This is a work of fiction with themes of domination
and submission, and will grow increasingly kinkier as things progress.

Do think about contributing to Nifty to help it keep going.

Lessons From Uncle Samuel, Part 1


Hey. My name's Bobby. I guess before we get to the sex stuff that I know
you want to hear about, I should tell you a bit about my background, so
you understand what happened. My Mom raised me alone -- I never knew who
my Dad was and I kind of suspect neither did she. Yeah, she's kind of a
major slut, just like me. She got knocked up in high school when she was
17, so she was still pretty young and sexy when this all started. She had
a weakness for very rugged, macho guys, a bit on the crude side. And,
judging from the sounds coming from her bedroom from the time I was old
enough to understand what I was hearing, very rough sex. Spent a lot of
nights jerking off to the filthy talk and pounding (and slapping) I heard
through the wall. Guess that's what turned me into such a perv myself.

Listen, I'm not knocking my Mom. She tried. She really did. She could
have abandoned me or put me up for adoption or just left me at the side
of the road. Her parents had kicked her out when they found out I was on
the way, and the only relative I ever met was my Uncle Samuel, Mom's
brother, this hulking bearded character who showed up maybe twice a year
to argue with my mom and throw me a few compliments.

I always had my own bedroom and plenty of food and went to school.
Wherever we were. Yeah, we moved around. A lot. Mom was always in pursuit
of the next big job. And the next big man. So, I never had much time to
make friends. Or form crushes. Well, not many. The unfortunate side
effect of this peripatetic life was that I turned 18 just as I was
finishing my junior year of high school. What was not her fault (unless
you want to get into genetics) was that I barely looked 15, only 5'5",
with no noticeable facial hair or much body hair either; the fact that I
was so fair made the hair I did have almost invisible. I stayed active
but while I had a toned body, I didn't have much muscle to show for my
efforts.

We had been settled in Seattle for almost a year. Mom's new man was
named Arnie. A mechanic, he was a dark-haired, naturally muscular stud.
His chest was covered in a thick mat of hair and his broad hands were
never too clean. He wore a porn `stache about 20 years after they went
out of style, but it made him hot and a bit sleazy, which frankly made
him even hotter. He was a hard riding fucker -- I could hear my Mom's
mattress banging against the metal frame when he got going. My mom was
sometimes limping a bit in the morning, but always smiling. One night I
had woken up in the middle of the night, needing to piss badly. I made it
quickly down the hallway in just the sweatpants I slept in. Having
finished what I needed to do, I opened the bathroom door and froze. Arnie
was standing there, leaning against the wall, waiting his turn. Stark
naked. His cock half-hard from a need to piss and was already
considerably bigger than mine with a full hard on. I couldn't help
staring at his cock. His muscles. His hairy chest. His powerful legs. His
cock, which I swear was growing harder. Blushing furiously, I tried to
get pass him. He put a hand on my shoulder, and as I glanced up, he had
an unmistakable smirk on his face as if he could read my mind. As I
hurried down the hall, I could swear I heard a quiet laugh.

Back in my bedroom, with the door firmly closed, I flopped on my bed,
trying to catch my breath. I felt like I had just run a marathon. My face
was flushed and sweat was forming. And my cock was as hard as it had ever
gotten. My hand reached down without a conscious thought and I was
gripping it and beginning to stroke. My eyes were closed as I visualized
Arnie standing that, unembarrassingly naked and erect. Suddenly I heard
faint footsteps outside my room. Or maybe I imagined them. Maybe I
imagined the stud standing there, listening, knowing what I was doing.
Suddenly, I heard the door to my Mom's bedroom open and her softly
calling his name. After a moment, I heard the door close and then some
laughter, as if he was reporting to her what had happened. Without
warning, I shot a huge load that actually reached my face and the
headboard behind me. Exhausted, I fell into a deep sleep filled with
erotic dreams I couldn't quite remember but knew involved my new
obsession.

The next morning, I delayed coming to breakfast as long as I possibly
could. When I finally came down, Arnie was gulping down his coffee,
getting ready to leave. That didn't stop him from giving me a once over
lingering look with a knowing smirk causing me to blush again. Mom was at
the sink washing dishes and didn't notice. He slowly got up, adjusted
himself, and walked over and grabbed my mom, giving her a deep kiss and a
quick grope of her breasts. She tried to pull back a bit, obviously aware
I was in the room, but he laughed, slapped her on the ass, saluted me and
walked out. Pulling herself together, she asked me to finish the dishes
as she had to get to work. Of course, I agreed, trying my best to hide my
hard on with the kitchen chair. Hearing her leave, I suddenly realized I
had been holding my breath and let it out slowly. Wasn't sure how long I
could keep this all up, you should pardon the expression. And before I
got to the dishes, I headed back to my bedroom to jerk off another
sizable load.

Nothing changed for the next couple of weeks, except every time Arnie was
around, I felt like he was watching me, which was both arousing and
nerve-wracking all at once. One afternoon, I was hanging out at home
watching some television when I heard his truck pull up into the
driveway. I was surprised because Mom was at work. As the stud let
himself into the house, I glanced up. He had clearly come directly from
work; it was a hot day and he was sweating enough that his white t-shirt
was stuck to his torso, highlighting his powerful chest and arms. I could
see his nipples sticking up against the material and even swirls of his
abundant chest hair through the thin material. His masculine aroma filled
the room, and my dick started to stir up.

He plopped into one of the recliners in the living room and grinned at
me. "Get me a beer, would you, kid?"

I hated when he called me a kid, made me feel so insignificant, but my
body obeyed without my brain summoning it to. Got him one of the
ever-present bottles of his favorite brand out of fridge and brought it
back to the lounging stud. He took the beer with a grunt of thanks and I
settled back down onto the sofa.

"Where's your Mom?"

Surprised that he didn't know, I responded, "it's her day to work
late. Thought you knew."

"Oh, fuck! I forgot." He settled back and his free hand reached down to
grope his crotch. He saw me watching and grinned, "Fuck kid, you know
how it is. Sometimes you just have to get off." Blushing, I simply
nodded, as he continued, "Your cock and balls have a mind of their own.
They want to get satisfied and they don't give a fuck who or how. Now, I
would never cheat on your mom with another bitch. That wouldn't be
right. But you know, a man using some fag to get some relief, that's a
different thing. You know what I mean?"

Truthfully, I half knew what he meant and was half totally confused. I
knew I was frightened and ready to run to my room and let him wait for my
Mom to get home. Or offer him some porn and let him jerk off if that's
what he meant. But as I started to get off the sofa, he grinned and said,
"Relax kid. I was just talking. Of course, if you want to make some kind
of offer, I might not say no, you know what I mean."

I think I made some babbling sounds. I was so confused of how to respond.
Was he suggesting we have sex? Or was he just teasing me. Maybe he was
setting me up to respond and then he'd have an excuse to beat the shit
out of me. Not that he had ever been violent to me before. I just kind of
froze.

He leaned forward, staring at me, never losing his grin. His legs moved
wider apart, the material of his pants stretching tighter across his
ever-growing crotch. "Listen kid, let's stop playing games. I know
you're gay. That's no problem for me, so don't get nervous. Fags give
great blow jobs. I need to get off. So why don't you get down on your
knees and be a good faggot and get me off?"

"I've never... that is, I haven't..."

Arnie's grin widened. "You're telling me you're a virgin?"

"Um, well, yes Sir."

"No fucking kidding? You're 18 and you've never swung on a cock?"

Blushing furiously now, I could feel the heat on my face. "No, Sir."

"Bet you'd like to try it. Bet you watch fag porn and jerk off watching
boys going down on men. Wishing it was you. You going to tell me I'm
wrong?"

It came out as barely a whisper: "No Sir, you're not wrong."

His grin launched into a full smile then. "I sure do like the way you
call me Sir. Shows you know your place. Fags were created to service real
men like me. You know that's right, don't you?"

Again, I could barely whisper my response, but somehow, I knew this was
the moment and everything he was saying was true. At least, true about
me.

"So, come and get it, bitch." He leaned back and reaching down, undid
his belt and opened his jeans. Undoing the zipper, he reached in and
pulled out his impressive cock, already half-hard. It hypnotized me, like
a cobra does its prey, as he swayed it back and forth. With his other
hand, he gestured as if beckoning me. I began to stand up, but he shook
his head, and in almost a whisper, he commanded, "On your knees, boy.
That's how you approach a man."

I lowered myself to the floor, and on my knees crawled to him. It was
both humiliating and liberating all at the same time. It simply felt so
right. I reached him, deeply breathing in the intoxicating mix of his
sweat and musk. I had only been drunk a few times in my life, but this
scent had the same effect, only multiplied by 1,000. He chuckled as he
reached out and put his strong hand on the back of my head, gently
guiding me toward the head of his cock. My mouth opened and my tongue
snaked out to lick the tip as I had seen in so many porn videos.

He let go of a deep sigh and pulled me closer. My virgin mouth took in
the head of his cock, my tongue instinctively running around and around
the circle. A taste, at once bitter and salty and sweet, a mix of a bit
of dried piss and some drops of pre-cum hit my tongue. Holding my head
lightly, he let me adjust to the feeling and the taste. I began to gently
nurse on the head. I was moving into some strange headspace of not
thinking, not resisting, simply focused on giving pleasure. Tasting,
testing, accommodating my mouth to the heft and size of the cock.

"I was right, kid. You're a natural cocksucker. Now's the time to move
forward. Take me boy." The grip of his hand on my head tightened, as he
pulled my mouth forward, onto his shaft. My tongue instinctively found
the underside of his cock, the thick vein running the length, throbbing
at my light pressure. I began to suck harder, feeling the meat growing
harder and larger in my mouth. I felt at once powerful and totally
helpless.

The cock continued to move further through my mouth as Arnie pulled me in
closer. I could hear him moaning now, mixed with his chuckling. As the
head of his mighty cock hit the back of my mouth and began to enter my
throat, I instinctively tried to move back, but my master grabbed my head
with both of his hands and held firm.

"No, you don't bitch. You're going to deep throat me like the good
little fag you are."

He slammed forward and I began to choke. For a moment I thought I'd be
sick, and that quickly followed with a more accurate fear that I was
going to faint. "Breath through your nose, baby," Arnie purred, and I
blindly obeyed, beginning to adjust to my total task of satisfying my man
completely. My throat began to accommodate the head of his cock as my
tongue swirled and teased. I began to taste his pre-cum -- my first taste
ever of anyone's -- as it seeped into my mouth; a taste I found
addictive.

Holding my head firmly but not painfully, Arnie began to work my head up
and down his shaft, each time letting his cock shift out of my throat
until only the head was planted and feeling me feeling weirdly empty, and
then plunging it back through my mouth and into my throat. No longer
gagging, breathing in rhythm, I was moving out of my body, out of the
room, out of anything physical but the sheer thrill of serving a take
charge man.

I became aware of my master breathing deeper and faster, of his body
tensing and even trembling, and then with a roar I had often heard coming
through the walls of my bedroom, Arnie erupted deep in my mouth, his
sweet cum hitting the back of my mouth. I began to swallow his cum as he
pulled back, leaving his head against my tongue to shoot another thick
thread of cum into my cocksucking mouth. Slowly, my heart beats began to
return to normal, and Arnie's hands fell away from my head as he relaxed
back against the padded sofa. He smiled down at me, still on my knees,
cum smeared across my face, and chuckled. "What a good little cocksucker
you are. A natural."

 And then I heard a gasp and looked passed Arnie to see my mom standing
by the front door. I didn't know how much should saw, but she certainly
saw enough...

TO BE CONTINUED