Date: Sun, 15 Oct 2000 20:25:30 -0500
From: Jack Fellowes <jwhstloo@ix.netcom.com>
Subject: "Poppaw's Remedy"

USUAL DISCLAIMER:  You might be too young, this stuff might be illegal,
you're upset to find out that sex for love and pleasure happens between
anybody, let alone boys and men, etc. You know where you are and what
you're reading--if you don't like it, just go away!

Author's note: This is just a little story I wrote just to see if I
still could, because I have been totally writer's-blocked on the
continuation of "Boy Scout Scandals" story, the first part of which
appeared many, many moons ago. (I do plan to finish it, and will
resubmit the whole thing when I do.) Comments on this one to
jwhstloo@ix.netcom.com, please.  Thanks to all who encourage me to keep
writing.  ----Jack


Poppaw's Remedy (M/b, oral, incest)
By Jack Fellowes
Copyright 2000 by the Author; All Rights Reserved.

Poppaw had just pulled in his sixth or seventh crappie, and he was
holding his pole in one hand and trying to grab the fish that was
flopping around at the end of his line, trying to get back in the water.
"Come here, you little devil," he said, "you're going to be part of our
supper, whether you want to be or not."

He finally got hold of the fish and put him on the stringer with the
others, and dropped them back in the galvanized bucket half full of
creek water. When he finally sat down again, he looked over at me. "Quit
digging at your legs, Skippy. You're just making all those bites worse."

I kept scratching at the mosquito bites that covered my bare legs, and
whined, "But they *itch*, Poppaw." He'd told me not to wear shorts when
we left the house to head back to the fishing stream on the other side
of the little patch of woods that sheltered the south side of the
pasture. But of course, I didn't listen, and I sure didn't count on all
the mosquitos attacking me as I sat beside him at the edge of the creek.

He looked at me with an exasperated half-smirk, and said, "You want me
to make them stop itching?" I nodded yes, still scratching away. "Well,
then, stand up and take off your shoes and toss 'em back up on the
bank."

I looked at him like he was crazy, but I was the one going crazy with
the itching, so I did as he said. I toed the left sneaker off with my
right one and leaned over and picked it up and tossed it behind me.
Then, standing on my bare foot, I picked my right foot up and pulled off
the other sneaker, tossing it back with the other one. Poppaw had stood
up while I was hopping around, and when I looked up at him, he was
standing there, all six-feet-four of him, with his big old peter pulled
out of the fly of his overalls, and he was holding it like a hose.

I was trying to figure out what to make of that, when suddenly the
puckered skin at the end of his peter opened up a little and a golden
stream of pee shot out. He was peeing on my bare legs! I was too shocked
to move, and he slowly circled me, covering just about every inch of my
legs with his warm, strong-smelling urine.

Echoing Mammaw's way of talking to him, I squeaked out, "What are you
doing, old man, are you crazy?" But I still just stood there and let him
finish hosing me down."

When he was done he just leaned back, put his hands on his hips, and
laughed at me in his big roaring way. "Watch your mouth, young'n, I told
you I was going to stop the itching, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me you were going to do that!" I pointed at
his dick, still hanging out of his fly, with pee still dripping out of
the "nozzle." I could see a few reddish-gray hairs sticking out around
the base of it. They matched the unruly thatch sticking out from under
his beat-up old straw fishing hat.

"Well, do your legs still itch as much?" He made no move to put his
peter back in his pants, and I couldn't keep from looking at it. Then I
suddenly realized that the itching had almost stopped, and I looked up
at him in amazement.

He laughed at the expression on my face, and said, "There's some kind of
acid in human urine that neutralizes the stuff that mosquitoes inject in
you when they bite. All the fancy itch creams in the drugstore don't do
as good a job as a dousing of good old piss! But don't you tell your
Mammaw and your Mommy I did that, or they'll kill me, and then I'll have
to tan your behind."

"I guess it does work," I said. "But you sure surprised the heck out of
me! And I won't tell--you think I'm gonna walk in the house and say
'Poppaw peed on me to stop me from itching'? I'm not crazy!"

He leaned back and roared again, his already ruddy face turning redder,
and his dick flopping around out of his fly like that fish was doing a
little while earlier. I couldn't stop looking at it, and I finally just
blurted out, "You sure got a big one, Poppaw!"

He stopped laughing and looked down, a bemused expression crossing his
face, as if he'd just realized that he still had his dick out. Then he
reached down and hefted it in his palm, sort of studying it like he
hadn't seen it lately. "Oh, well, I guess it is a good size, for all the
good that does me. But you'll probably grow up to have one just as big,
if you don't already. All the men in our family are lucky that way."

I'd just gone through a big growth spurt just before my twelfth
birthday, and my dick had gotten bigger almost overnight, and I started
to sprout some hair around it, but I knew I'd have to grow a lot to
catch up with him.

He was still holding it out in his hand and looking down at it like he
was trying to remember something, so I asked, "What do you mean, for all
the good it does you, Poppaw?" My mom and I had lived on the farm with
Poppaw and Mammaw since my dad had been killed in Korea when I was five,
so I knew, like every farm kid does, what a peter was for. "Don't you
and Mammaw..." I stopped myself when I realized that I was going to ask
him if they still fucked.

He just kind of sighed and said, "Well, your Mammaw just isn't that
interested in my old thing anymore... and don't you tell her I said
that, either!"

Without thinking about it, I just said the next thing that came into my
mind: "Well, you can still play with it, like Jake and I do." Jake was
my thirteen-year-old neighbor and next-best friend after Poppaw, and
he'd showed me all about jacking off, and we'd even tried it on each
other a few times--well, actually quite a few times... and we'd even
done a little more than that.

Poppaw looked at me funny, and I thought I saw his big old pecker move a
little on its own as it still lay there, filling up the palm of his big
hand. "So you and Jake play with your peters, do you?" he asked in a
really quiet way that made me know I hadn't just gotten myself in a lot
of trouble.

I still kind of squirmed, and said, "Yeah, we do every once in a while.
Sometimes we play with each other's, too. Just to feel good, you know?"

The grin started to come back to his face, and he sort of hefted his
dick a couple of times before moving his hand and letting it flop down
again. It looked longer than it had. "Yeah, Skip, I know. I may have to
give that old trick a try myself, but it's been a long time."

My motor mouth just kept going as it if weren't connected to my brain.
"Well, if you forgot how, I could show you." I reached out automatically
and took his dick in my much smaller hand, and I felt it surge in my
grip.

Poppaw had started to smile more at what I had said, but his brows
lifted and his jaw dropped. He was as shocked that I did that as I was,
but he didn't move or say anything, so I just kept going. I squeezed it
a little, and I stroked the loose skin up and down a couple of times. It
started to grow in my hand, longer and thicker, and a whole lot firmer.
It was starting to rise up, pointing more toward me. Poppaw's face had
settled back into its usual kindly expression, and he was watching me
handle his peter like it was happening to somebody else. He didn't move
away or try to stop me, so I just kept stroking. It was already twice as
big as mine, and it was still growing and sticking out of his overalls
just shy of horizontally.

I moved closer to him, gripping that fat, gnarly thing with both hands
and stroking a little faster as it kept filling out. It was almost as
thick as my wrist, and sticking out a few inches beyond my double hand
grip! I stopped the back-and-forth motion, and just pushed the skin down
the shaft to uncover the big, shiny, purplish head. I moved closer,
looking at it in awe, and sniffed the manly aroma. The pee hole just
kind of winked at me as the rest of the shaft pulsed and lurched in my
hands. A big drop of clear liquid appeared, sort of bubbling out of the
hole, and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, I just
leaned over and licked it up.

The next thing I knew, it was like I was holding a big old wiggling
snake in my hand. Poppaw's dick was jumping  and throbbing, and it
suddenly started spitting cum at me. I couldn't think of anything else
to do but what I did with Jake--cover the hole with my mouth to keep the
thick creamy stuff from getting all over me. It just kept shooting out,
filling up my mouth, so I had to swallow. And I started sucking a little
on the head to make sure that I got it all, and I just held the tip
Poppaw's dick in my mouth until it started to soften and shrink a little
and he'd long since stopped coming.

When I let it go, it flopped down and just hung there out of his pants,
like before. I didn't look up at Poppaw's face. I was slowly realizing
just what I'd done, and to Poppaw, too!. Neither of us moved for the
longest time. Then Poppaw said, "You've done that before, Skipper." It
wasn't a question.

I answered very quietly, "Yeah, once or twice." Then I really started to
panic. "Oh jeezie, Poppaw, I'm sorry... I didn't mean... you won't tell
Mammaw and Mommy, will you?"

He just reached out and hugged me to him, and I felt his big, hard
barrel belly shaking. He was laughing again!

"Tell your Mammaw and Mommy? Do you think I'm crazy? I'm going to walk
in the house and right after I tell them I pissed all over your legs I'm
going to say, 'I was standing there with my cock still hanging out and
the next thing I knew Skip was playing with it and sucking the bejeezus
out of it.' We'd both be dead, for sure! Your Mammaw'd kill me, and your
Mommy'd kill you, and then they'd switch victims and start all over!"

He laughed himself to tears, and I did, too, imagining that scene and
seeing the ridiculousness of it. He squeezed me tight against him, and I
felt his dick move on its own again. "No, boy, this is just between us
menfolk..." He added, "Just to feel good, you know." I looked up and saw
his smiling eyes, and I smiled back, really loving him more than ever at
that moment.

"I know, Poppaw. Us guys gotta be able to feel good every once in a
while when we need to."

"Yeah, Skip, the women don't have to know what we do when we're out on
our own, do they?" I nodded conspiratorily, and he reached down and gave
my hard-on a little squeeze through my shorts. "No, they don't have to
find out what us guys do together."

And they never did.