Date: Wed, 29 Dec 1999 02:12:51 EST From: DennisR539@aol.com Subject: Summer and Uncle Dave (part 4) Incest/gay, Cross generation/gay The following story is about the sexual encounter of boys and men, some of whom are related. If that kind of story bothers you, get lost. If you are under age, your parents should be using an internet filter on the computer, so stop reading. Whatever, this is for those who want to read it and enjoy it (I hope anyway). Download it and read it for your own amusement. But don't resend it or use it in other way. Summer and Uncle Dave by Dennis Part 4 We lived in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. When we got home, I went to my room and dumped my stuff. Robby asked me how it was out on the Island and all I said was great. He was so jealous that I got to stay so often and he didn't. I couldn't tell him what had gone on. I was dying to but I had promised. I ate with the family and went to bed early. I was dead tired. Uncle Dave and me didn't get much sleep the night before. In the middle of the night, I got up and woke Robby. I had been dreaming about men and I was so horny, I thought I would explode. "What? Leave me the fuck alone!" "Come on Robby, lets 69. We didn't all week." "You're a nut sandwich, you know that. What makes you think I want to?" "Tell ya what, if you do, I will suck you off anytime you want me to for the rest of the week and you don't have to do it back to me." Now that may sound strange since I was 14 and had needs that exceeded his but I had other plans. Besides, like I said, I really like sucking cock. And, despite the fact that he was younger than me, he was fun to turn on. He liked it so much that I had a kind of control over him as a result. Easier than beating him up. Besides, he was getting older and he was starting to gain on me in size and strength. I figured he would end up like Uncle Bill and Dad, over 6 feet and an ox. Me, well the men on my mother's side of the family were smaller. I looked more like them than my father's so I figured I would not be like the hulks on my father's side. We are Irish Catholic and , yep, you guessed it, my family tends to work for the city. See, I never told you but Dad is an NYPD. A sergeant too. Still in uniform and wanting to be a detective. Uncle Bill is a fireman. Talk about a jerk off dream. He had dark red hair on his head and was built and hairy. Gramps was retired from the FDNY, and I told you that Uncle Dave had been a police captain before he was shot. I guess you could say that the City fed and clothed us. Anyway, Robby agreed, and we did and he got off a couple of times and he complained about how long I took and how much jis he got from me. But It made it easier for me to get back to sleep. The next day, I started working around the apartment. My mother was on a redecorating craze so she had me scraping wall paper and stuff like that. Why go through that much trouble for an apartment? The secret is "rent controlled". The landlord didn't do shit except what they had to. Want to change something? Do it yourself. It was a great life. When my mother would talk about moving out to the Island and buying a house, Dad would give her a lesson in economics. Besides, it was better for him and his job if he lived in the City. And, I liked being a city kid. The suburbs look nice and all, but the action, when you are a teenager, is in the City. About 2pm I took a shower, sucked off Robby (remember my promise), dressed in jockeys, jeans, and T, begged some money and subway tokens, and headed for the door, telling Mom. I wouldn't be home for dinner because it was summer and me and the guys would be screwing around in Manhattan that night. "Not too late. dear!" Actually I had no intention of meeting anyone. I wanted to check out some of the things Uncle Dave had told me. My folks were pretty liberal about letting me have my own way. I never came home drunk, never smelled of grass (Dad knew what to look for, not Mom) and always called to let them know I was alright. My Dad had grown up in Chelsea, so he knew what it meant to be a city kid. As long as I was responsible, I could do what I wanted. I did those things, i just didn't get caught. I jumped on the train and headed for Manhattan. I figured that if the subway toilets were hot, it would be 42nd or 34th Street or maybe near Grand Central Station. Lots of commuters, lots of older guys. Later I was to discover that the really good ones were in the less busy stations. Less casual traffic there. While I rode, I looked around. There were all kinds of guys. The ones in suits or in a shirt and tie got to me the most. I kept imagining what they looked like under those clothes. Boxers or tighty-whitey? Hung big and swaying? Big balls hangin' low or smaller ones, wrapped in white cotton? It was the 70s so jockeys were most likely but I could imagine, couldn't I. I looked at arms. Black hair? Meant black hair on the ass and chest, probably. Gray on top, gray chest thatch. Paunch? I imagined a huge set of tools hanging down, me on my knees, bumping my head against a hairy gut. I had a woody all the way in. Fortunately my T was long and loose enough that it covered some of it. I stood near the doors. That way I could brush up against guys as they came and went. Even copped a feel off one surprised 50 year old as he pushed his way out past me. He stopped dead outside the doors and turned. As the doors closed, I just looked at him and smiled. Wonder what he was thinking. He was checking for his wallet as the train pulled out. I was use to riding the trains. I had to use a couple and a bus to get to the Catholic HS I went to. Which one? Lets just say it was run by the Not-So Christian Brothers. It was in Queens, so I had a hike to get there but I was use to it. I had never, ever, used a john when I traveled so I really didn't know what they were like. The first one I tried was under 42nd Street and 8th Avenue. I spoted the john door on the promenade above the station. I walked past it, then turned around and walked past it again.Fuck it!, Thats why I am here. My heart was beating as I went in. There were waist to foot, white, cracked urinals along one side and sinks with mirrors along the other. Around a wall, like in another room, were pay toilets and more sinks. There was no accomidation for handicapped. This was before the law, I think. Since in order to enter, you had to open up the noisy outside door, then navigate a hall with a turn to get in, you knew if someone was coming. Now, the smell of a subway toilet was nothing like I had ever experienced before. It was a mix of urine and cleaning soap, heat and sweat. There were those deodorant cakes in the bottoms of the urinals and at least one of the urinals was running continuously. I glanced around quick and figured I should look like I had business there. I went to a pisser down towards the end, unbuttoned my jeans, and acted like I was taking a leak. There were a couple of guys pissing or washing at the sinks. There was some traffic in and out. It came in waves, apparently dependent on the trains I could feel rumbling under my feet. When the john emptied, one of the guys, who had been there when I came in and had zipped and went to the sink to wash his hands, came over and stood one urinal from me. He was in his late 40s, I would guess, decent shape, a little thick around the waist, receding hairline, 5 o'clock shadow, and about 8 inches taller than me, maybe 160 or 170. He was wearing a short sleeve shirt, tie, no T, (I could see his chest hair through the light fabric of his shirt), light blue summer pants, and loafers. And a wedding ring. My heart was beating like a hammer. I looked sideways. From the way he got out his cock I figured he was wearing jockeys. He leaned up to the urinal like he was tapping a kidney then looked over his shoulder, toward the door. Seeing no one, he looked at me. I turned my head and started staring at his crotch. He backed up and let me see his cock. It was hardening as I watched. I stepped back to reveal my own hard, developing, manhood. Another train was rumbling into the station below us. He zipped and nodded his head towards the pay toilets. I followed him into the one farthest from the entrance and closed the door behind me, just as someone opened the outside door. The door and walls of the stall were low enough that someone would have to make a real effort to see that there were two guys in this one. He dropped to the seat and started to fumble at my buttons. I let him pull down my jeans and underwear. He grabbed my cock and put it into his mouth and gave it a suck. I moaned and closed my eyes. He stood and lifted the front of my T up and slipped it behind my head so that effectively I was naked in front, from head to foot. He ran his hands over my body, feeling my nipples, my ass, my cock and balls. I heard him mumble, "Shit, you're beautiful. He dropped down to the seat and again started to work on my cock, running his hands all over me while he did so. Now, wait. This is not why I wanted to be here. I wanted his cock. I pushed his head away. He looked up at me, disappointed. I leaned down and said, "Can I suck you too?" You know that look a guy gets when he realizes that someone else is going to pick up the check? Well, that's what he had. His eyes got real wide, like he didn't understand what I said. "Sure, if you want to?" "I do!" He stood and we did a little dance so that he was between the seat and the door. He went to unzip but I pushed his hand away. I pulled his shirt out of his pants and unbuttoned it, pulling it open. I ran my hand over his chest. He had a lot of hair on his pecs and gut. I pulled his shirt off his shoulders so that it slid down his arms. He took it off and hung it on the hook on the door. I sat down, undid his belt, and unzipped him. His pants dropped to the floor, pulled by the weight of the stuff in his pockets. Yep. jockeys. I pulled them down to below his knees. He was hard as a board. He was about 6 and a half inches. His cut cock was round on the bottom but kinda flat on top and a decent hand full. It had a slight upward curve. His balls were not that big and they were pulled up against his body. I pulled and licked at them, smelling sweat and old body powder and Lifeboy. Then I took his shaft near the root and put the head of his dick in my mouth. I worked on it with my tongue, hitting the sensitive places. Then I slipped my lips down the shaft so that I could get a lot of it in my mouth and throat. His pubic hair was on my nose, my bottom lip almost at his balls. When I pulled back, I heard him sigh. He lifted me to my feet, took my T off and hung it on the door over his shirt. Then he pulled our naked bodies together. He rubbed his hands all over my smooth back and ass. His dick was poking me in the gut. Mine had slipped under his balls. I put my hands on his butt and pulled his cheeks apart. He bent his head down and kissed me, my face tilted up, my back arched to respond. We tongue kissed. He was pulling at my cock and I was playing with his ass and rubbing my stomach on his cock that was pressed between our bodies "Shit, I don't believe this," he murmured, "You're how old? 15?" "No, 14. That bother you?" "Would if I got caught doing this." "I won't say anything if you don't," I laughed. I sat back down and worked his cock. His slight belly rubbed up against my forehead when I pulled him to me. I sucked, not fast or frenzied, but slow and deliberate. He held my head, ran the back of his hands through my hair, over my cheeks, felt my ears. He was really into it. When after some time he started to tense, I knew, before he told me, that he was going to cum. I pulled back and let his spasming dick unleash his load onto my tongue. I rubbed some on his cock and then sucked it off again. Then I swallowed his load. I looked up with his cock still in my mouth and saw him with his arms braced against the side walls, his head back, eyes closed. When he finished, he pulled me up and clinched me to him, his cum leaking cock rubbing against out two bodies. Then he relaxed. I rested my head on his chest as his cock went down. He bent down and started to pull up his pants. "Want me to do you?" "No, I want to suck some more guys before I come." He looked at me as he pulled on his shirt, "Look, I am usually here about this time everyday. Hope we can meet again." "So do I." Then he looked at his watch, "Damn it, I have to get home. I have a wife and kid. I wish we had more time. Maybe go to a hotel or something." "Yeah, maybe, sometime." He buttoned, tucked, zipped, kissed me again, turned, opened the door, looked out and left. I relocked the door and leaned back. My first anonymous cock suck was over. Before I had time to think about what had just happened, there was a tapping at the door. I peaked out through the crack and saw a guy standing there, looking towards the entrance. "Come on, open up. Quick" I undid the lock and he slipped in. He unzipped his pants and pulled out a very respectable size member, thick veiny, and about 7 inches, maybe more. He was over 60, that I was sure of, but he had a nice sized waist smaller than the first guy. He was wearing a gray suit, white shirt, and tie. His hair was gray, like his suit, and it was thinning. "I figure if you want to suck dick, you could suck mine." "How did you know I suck cock?" "I saw you through that," and he pointed. "That" was a quarter size hole I had not noticed before. I guess I was so involved with what I was doing that I never even heard him enter the next stall. He must have watched me working on the guy through it. It was at the right height and position. He had a hell of a show. "Sure, but I have to see the whole package" I unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants and pushed aside his shirt front. He reached down and folded it over up at his belly. His cock stood out through the opening in his print boxers. I pulled them down. His balls were huge. They matched his cock. They hung there waiting to be played with. His bush was gray almost white and ran at a decreasing density on to his legs and belly. "Do it, kid. I saw you do it to him. You like sucking. I could tell." "You don't want to do anything else?" "Naw. Anytime I can get a good looking kid to swing on my pole, that's all I want to do. And you are one fucking fine looking kid. It's getting me hot just thinking about it." Uncle Dave had been right. Here was a 14 year old almost naked boy. He should be wanting me, my body. Maybe, under other circumstances, he would have. But to have one go down on him? He was in heaven. I set to work. My hands and mouth and tongue playing with his crotch. I licked his balls. Tried to put each in my mouth. He really liked that. Hair got into my mouth. I spit it out and went back to his cock. I reached up under his shirt and felt his nips. His chest was hairy. I figured that older guys just have more body hair. Later, I found out that's not true. But, I was just learning. He was a long time cumming, not that I minded. When I suck cock I go into a kind of trance. Its in and out, up and down. I do things with my hands and tongue that are almost automatic. I am there, loving it, but not totally there. He just leaned back against the door, his legs spread a little and looked down at me, his hands on my head. He came without warning, pulling my head forward, pushing his cock into and down my throat. His cock was so wide it cut of the air to my lungs. I held my breath and he spewed cum into the back of my throat. Then he let up and I pulled my head back, inhaled and took the last of his cum in my mouth. He left his stick in my mouth for a while. then he pulled it out and said, "Whew! Nice." I held onto the shaft and licked off the head. He got himself presentable, opened the door and said, "See ya around, kid." I locked it after him. I sat there and, sure enough, the door to the next stall opened and locked. I looked through the hole and saw a pair of jeans being lowered. Whom ever it was had a nice body. He was in his 20s and had long hair. He was wearing a T shirt like I was. Well, what the hell! Not exactly my type but I'd suck him, if he wants it. When he sat down he looked towards the hole and seeing my eye there, stood up and showed off his cock. He was hard. His cock was slender and long. It was smooth. Pretty head. Then he sat down and whispered, "Want it?" "Yeah!" "Open your door so I can come in." When he first entered he was not really looking at me. When he saw this near naked kid sitting there, he stopped. then he shrugged and just undid his jeans and pulled them down. Very business like. I grabbed his cock and sucked it down. No preliminaries, no talking, not even a moan of pleasure. Slam, blam. thank you mam. Just suck. He came real quick, pulled up his jeans, patted me on the head and said, "Thanks, kid!" and was gone. And so it went. I just sat there. Guy would enter the next stall and sit down, look, stand up, show it, come in and I'd suck him. Most of the guys were obviously turned on by my looks and age. Some didn't seem to care. Some repeated the things I had done with my first "customer". That's how I thought of them. Please take a number. Ding. Number 15? You're next! I still can't remember how many guys I did but I took on all cummers (pun, sorry). I did older guys, old guys, young ones, black ones, spanish ones, cute ones, ugly ones, fat ones, thin ones, with wedding bands and without, cut and uncut. When I looked at my watch it was almost 7pm. That meant that I was in there about 3 hours. My butt hurt from the toilet seat. I wasn't hungry. All that cum I guess. I was thirsty though. I had to get out of there. When Mom said, "Don't be late, that meant around 10. I had one more thing to do. I stood up, dressed and headed out to the urinals. The lights there were bright compared to the darkened inside of the stall. I stood, cock pointed as if pissing. l waited. Sure enough a guy came in and stood near me and looked. He was in his 30's short, kind of attractive. I didn't care. This time I didn't look at his cock. I just leaned back and showed off my own boner. I had not jerked off while I was in the stall. This time I wanted someone to take my cum. make me feel good. I tucked it in and headed for the pay toilets. He followed. This time when the door shut, I was standing. I dropped trou and he sucked me off. He was good. Not as good as me, but that's okay. He played with my balls. shoved his finger into my butthole, made appreciative sounds. I bucked, said I'm cumming and let loose. It was a large load because he gulped a bit when he swallowed. I pulled up my jeans, buttoned up, unlocked, turned and said thanks, and headed for the trains below. I took the uptown to 57th Street and went up to the street. I walked to Columbus Circle. Figured I would walk up away along Central Park West. As I walked, I thought about what had happened that day. Uncle Dave had been wrong. Seems there are a lot of guys who will take a little "chicken" when they can get it. I had a lot of cock and a lot of cum. I had fulfilled my desire. And I wanted to do it again and again and again. I stopped to rest and leaned against wall on the park side, opposite the Dakota, feeling cool in the slight breeze. There were people walking in the shade along the sidewalk. I did a little man watching, my imagination taking over again. I saw one guy coming south. He was fucking handsome. I couldn't take my eyes off him. He looked like an ex-football player. Blond, 280, maybe 6 foot 5, big arms, bulky legs under his khaki pants, open shirt (no chest hair that I could see), narrow waist, probably in his late 40s. His pants were tight enough that I could see his basket in front. It wasn't huge but it was there. It came as a shock when I looked at his face and realized that he was looking at me too. He stopped in front of me. All I could say was, "Hi!" It came out in a squeak. He laughed and said. "Hi, yourself!" For one of the few times in my life I was speechless. He took up the slack, "Nice afternoon. New York in the summer can be real nice." There was the hint of a southern accent. "Christ, you ever play pro football?" "Yep! Not for about 15 years now. Eagles, Bears, then the Jets until I got hurt. Linebacker. Now I just work in this here fair city." We checked each other out. He stared at my crotch and I stared at his. "So, what's up?" "Just hanging out for a while until I hop the train for Brooklyn. Trying to figure where I can get a soda." "I have some cold ones at home. I live near here, brownstone. Maybe you can come with me and have one." "Fuckin' A! You're on! Lead away!" We walked about 2 blocks north then over towards Broadway. We talked about his football days and my school. When he heard I was 14, he stopped and uttered a low whistle. Then we went on. We were sizing each other up. I wanted to get out alive and he wanted to not get robbed, I guess. He owned the whole brownstone but lived in the street floor apartment. We sat in easy chairs in the cool, darkening living room and talked some more, sipping beers. Well, he offered. Couldn't say no and be a poor guest, could I. He asked if I wanted to do a joint but I declined. He did it alone. There was a certain tension building. Finally I just said, "Want to have sex?" He shot beer through his nose. When he got done coughing and laughing he said, "That's a new one. I will never get use to New Yorkers. Don't waste time, do you?" "Nope! Well, do you?" "Yeah, I think so." I was out of my clothes quickly. Being a little stoned, he was a slower. I went and helped him. I love pulling down a guy's pants and unveiling his equipment. And what he had was mighty pretty, not huge, but pretty. He was almost 6 inches, not fat but nice. Nice balls too. His crotch hair was sparse and the same blond color as his hair. In fact he didn't have much hair anywhere on his body. It made his muscles stand out. I started doing my thing with his body, feeling, playing, kissing, sucking. He groaned with delight. It was obvious that he was use to having his body worshiped, although this may have been the first time a kid my age did it. Using his feet, he pulled off his loafers and stepped out of his pants. Christ, he was gorgeous. He had close to 150 pounds and over a foot on me. His thighs were bigger than my waist. I felt like an ant attacking an elephant. He lifted me up in a cradle and carried me into the bedroom. There, on cool silk sheets, we explored each others bodies. He gave as good as he got. When I climbed on my knees between his legs and started sucking, I shoved my finger up his ass. He exhaled and said, "Fuck me!" Now that was as surprise. I thought, if there was any fucking to be done, I would be the fuckee not the fucker. Well, anything to please. He would be my second, ever. He laid on his back and lifted his legs. I went down and licked his asshole. I was doing what Uncle Dave taught me to do. "Any Vaseline?" He said, "Use spit. I like it that way." So that's what I did. When I was good and slimy from mucus, I pulled one from the back of my throat, spit it onto his hole and rubbed it in. Then I leaned on his chest and pushed at his opening. My 5 and a half inches went in easily. I would love to have had a picture of that. He was massive compared to me and here I was fucking him. I guess the situation got to me. It wasn't long before I came up his chute. I laid on his belly and slipped out my cock. His legs fell on both sides of me. I moved down to his cock and started sucking him off. The effects of the beer and marijuana slowed him down, so it took a while of my playing before he came. When I looked towards his face I could see him watching me. After he came, I lingered for a while, sucking and cleaning. Then I moved my tongue up his body,lapped at his tits, slid along on his body, and rested mine on his. When I reached his mouth, he hugged me tight and we tongue kissed. He got some of his cum back that way. "Shit, that was great!" He was kind of woozy from the doobie. We just lay there a while. Then I saw the clock on the nightstand. It was almost 10. I asked if I could use his phone to call home. I told Mom I would be late, about 11. Teen dance at Cathedral High, I lied.Then I got up quick, found my clothes and dressed. He stayed naked, his cock and balls swaying as he walked. he took a sip from his beer and lit up another joint. I used some of his mouth wash to get the beer smell off my breath. We went to the door. There, he lifted me up like a doll and kissed me. He found a piece of paper on the hall table, and wrote down a phone number under the name Jack. That's when I remembered, we had never told each other our names. After telling me to call him sometime ("You can bet your ass I will.You owe me a fuck"), I left. I got home just at 11. My dad wasn't home yet. That's what happens when you're a cop. After talking a while to my mom, making up stories about my night, I went to bed. Before I could get to sleep, Robby was up and into my bed. As I lay between his legs and sucked him off , I thought about all that had happened. Suddenly, he was every cock I had sucked that night. I shoved my finger into his asshole. "Hey, don't do that. What's the fuck's with you?" I just laughed and said, "Oh, one of the guys said that it really makes a guy hot when that happens." "Well, don't do it to me. I don't like it. Now blow me Dennis, and make it a good one. You promised." I did, then I jerked off and went to sleep, dreaming about cocks. Boy, do I have some stuff to tell Uncle Dave next week. The end of part 4 To be continued