Date: Tue, 3 Oct 2000 18:53:52 +0100 From: Chas Bryant Subject: UNCLE JULES - PART TWO Not long after our first great night together, Jules found himself a new job and, shortly after that, a new flat. Bad news was he would now be living in Edinburgh while I was still in London. Also, he would have to spend a lot of time abroad. I was fucking gutted, didn't know how I could manage for just one night without that beautiful body next to mine, rubbing against me, begging for my dick. "You'll be all right," he soothed, rubbing his hand against the hairline at the back of my neck. "Handsome young guy like you will always be able to get it." But I didn't want 'it', I wanted him, with those huge hard thighs and the big curving pecs and that wonderful arse. I wanted his eyes looking into mine in the semi darkness of the bedroom and his lips open on my mouth and his legs opening for me, his big cock throbbing against my stomach as I leaned forward to probe under his big shaved balls. He had become more like a part of myself than a separate person. I'd be half dead without him. "You'll find some hideous old bag to fuck," I pouted, really sounding very childish, even to myself. "Chas, I need to have a woman around me, you know that already. I told you that so many times." Sure, he had told me often enough, but I was only a kid still and couldn't get my head around it. The thought of some woman kissing him made me sick. When I saw him dancing with that woman at his 30th birthday bash, the old feeling of disgust returned, undimmed after five years. The silly tart was giggling and snogging him for all to see, she so ugly and he so beautiful. Yes, I know that you told me Jules, and yes I did expect it, and yes it still makes me sick. Anyway, as it turned out, he was right and I did out of sheer desperation find another partner in the first months of my enforced widowhood, as I shall tell. But before he left Jules gave me a present, the sexiest present I had ever had, and which I still have today. It's a bit pervy really, but then that's love. In fact, it was two presents, but connected. After he had gone I found a picture of him on my computer which he had left for me. It was taken under a tree in the rather swish health club he attended and Jules is standing there staring at the camera with burning black eyes (who the hell took that photo?) and wearing nothing but a pair of skin tight boxers. Jules has one hand on his waist and is staring at the camera as if he wanted to have sex with it. The boxers were made of black and purple diagonal stripes and his big packet is clearly outlined. There was text with the photo which advised me to look in a certain drawer in my room. I opened it, and there were the boxers, still crumpled as if he had just ripped them off his muscular body. They felt like they were made of pure silk and I took them in my hands and brought them to my mouth and nose, inhaling something of Jules' own fragrance, a mixture of his favourite body lotion and his own sexy smell. Then I noticed certain areas of stiffness on the soft material and saw the stains. There was another note in the drawer, in Jules' awful handwriting, which said 'I came this double load for you. Keep this and remember me.' I kept the boxers in a sealed plastic folder to retain the scent as long as possible and only took them out when I was ready to cum a load in memory of the beloved Jules. Then I'd put them over my nose and mouth and just breathe in his delicious odours, remembering his every sexy body part. It was as if Jules had died and been buried and I went into a really deep depression. At the lowest ebb I even tried to kill myself by leaving a feather pillow over my face while I was lying laid out like a corpse in my bed. Whether it would have worked I don't know, but the powers that be had other plans for me, because just as I started to feel really groggy a big framed picture fell off my bedroom wall with a great crash and brought me to my senses. Some coincidence, eh? I took that as a sign and prayed my thanks. And the next day there was an e-mail from Jules waiting for me when I got up in the morning before going to school. It said he loved me very much and couldn't stop thinking of me. But time runs on and even the worst ache subsides. I still missed Jules like Hell, especially when I felt sex starved, but there were my school activities and also I started to get deeper into sports and jogging and working out. I hoped that one day I would have a body like Uncle Jules - there is a definite family resemblance between us although I don't kid myself in my wildest dreams that I have a fraction of his outstanding beauty. As I said, I found another partner - of sorts. Why am I always attracted to straight and married men? Even more weird, why are straight and married men attracted to me? Chemistry, I suppose. Jules sent me the occasional e-mail in those first three or four months of our parting, on a ratio of one to every couple of dozen of mine. He never was a literary man, and really in some ways I wished he didn't send any at all, because each time I got one it just stirred up the old heartache. After getting one particular e-mail which had attached to it a picture of his latest conquest (yep, she was blond and busty just like all his birds with a big fleshy cock sucking mouth), I was so mad I just grabbed the dog and dragged him off to the local common to run off some frustration. I was wearing just jogging shoes and a tee and shorts and the rain was pissing down. I was glad of the rain. I'd have been glad of a raging toothache just then, anything to take my sick mind off Jules. I was just plain mad and yet also sex mad, which made my desperation worse. I was running round with a very tight feeling around my balls and cock which was only made worse by my soaking wet briefs which seemed to suck at me as I pounded round the paths. After I had been running for a good hour and was absolutely whacked I came to the thatched hut that stood where two paths joined, a sort of crossroads. It was what I always thought of as my magic place, and when you sat there you could sometimes imagine the big old trees around you talking to you or to each other or to themselves. I saw that some bloke was already sitting there and something about him seeemed arresting. Anyway I was exhausted so I threw myself into one of the rustic chairs and took some good deep breaths, my elbows on my knees, leaning forward gasping. Then I was aware that Ovo, my dog, was jumping up at the man sitting nearby and trying to lick him. Ovo was very wet so I lunged at his lead and tied it to the arm of my chair to keep him off the guy. I gasped my apologies and the guy smiled and said it was all right. He asked me if I had seen an Irish wolfhound on my travels and I saw that he was holding a big leather leash. I said I hadn't. He smiled and looked up to Heaven with a gesture of impatience. "Bloody thing's run off again," he said. "I wouldn't mind, the wife bought it and it's me that has to exercise it, even on a day like this. It doesn't like me much and I expect it will be at the back door when I get home, waiting to be let in. The dog likes this weather about as much as I do." He was a youngish guy, around the early thirties, and he had a very deep voice which contrasted with his innocent looking expression. The surprising thing was that he was wearing a three piece city suit and very uncountrified leather shoes. He had on a long grey mac which was unbuttoned and reached nearly to his feet. He seemed totally out of place in this setting. The waistcoat and trousers of the suit were cut very tight and made of some very light grey material which showed his curves off to good advantage. His legs were wide open and the thighs were magical. The tie was a very rich deep blue made of shimmering silk. And when he looked straight as me, as he now did, his eyes were of a similar grey colour to his suit material. Altogether very tasty, especially in my present mood. The rain was hosing down from the open heavens and the sound of the downpour on the vegetation was magic. Ovo was staring at the guy and panting with his tongue out. I knew just how he felt. I lolled back in my seat, having regained my breath, my legs thrown out in front of me and my head back. My wet shorts clung heavily to my cock and balls. I turned sideways and glanced at the guy and caught him staring at my packet. My tee had ridden up and my stomach was bare. I smiled at him. "Hope you find the dog." "With a bit of luck I might never see it again!" He stared at my body once more with hungry eyes. "Mind you don't catch a chill," he said, sounding like my mother. His staring grey eyes were turning me on. He stood up and took off his raincoat and held it out to me. "Put this around you until you are ready for the off." I said I couldn't, I would make it wet, and it looked damned expensive. "Come on," he said, "stand up." I did as I was told and he draped the coat around my shoulders. I stood sheepish for a while and then sat down again. He walked up and down a couple of times under the cover of the shelter's thatch, hands deep in the pockets of his grey suit, more or less stroking himself. The material was tight across his great bubble butt and it looked to me as if he wasn't wearing any underpants. "Funny we never met before," he said. "I often walk in these woods." He continued to walk up and down like the Director at a board meeting. A lot of rich bastards live around the Common and I had him down for one of these, big house, big car, plenty of money. He stopped in front of me, staring down at me, hands twitching in his pockets. Now, acting the complete tart, I stared back at him and said in the slowest sexiest voice I could, "Well, now we've met." I flexed my legs apart, just like Uncle Jules. I could feel my cory straining against the yellow silk material of my tight shorts. I felt fucking horny and no mistake. He was more or less standing over me. He took his hands out of his pockets and stood with arms akimbo, hands on waist, resting all his weight on one leg. His bulge was about level with my mouth. I did something which I would never have dreamed of before my experiences with Jules. (Yes, Jules, it was all your fault!) I stared at the guy's crotch and then said, "Hey, I bet you came out without your underwear." Then looked straight up into his face and smiled as dazzlingly as I knew how. Fuck! It worked - and how! Fortune favours the brave. He was unphazed and a bit bold himself. "Take a look," he said. It was fucking dangerous and very stupid, given our situation, but I reached forward and pulled down his zip. Even if someone came along the path (unlikely in this weather) they would see only a guy standing talking to another guy, his back to the spectator. He was wearing some underwear, but of the skimpiest sort. It was white lace in a sort of flower pattern, like little white lace pressed flowers strung together. I guessed it was a woman's garment, an open crotched thong, and his uncut dick and neat big balls were pushed through the crotch. It looked great against the smooth white skin of his thighs and accentuated the bush of black hair around his balls. My wet hands wandered over his equipment and I sighed a big sigh, a really deep heave of a sigh as if I was exhaling all the frustration of the past few months. He zipped up again after pushing my hands away, a bit of a tease I guessed. But this was hardly the place for exploring each others genitals. "You like? What's your name?" "Chas. Yes, fucking beautiful." I looked up at him standing over me still. "And you are?" He held out his hand and squeezed mine hard and long. "Nicholas, Chas. Glad to meet you." That's the queer way it always happens in my life. Whenever I get really mad, things start to happen. Once when I had had a terrible and destructive row with Jules I got pissed and went for a walk and on my way back, as the tension built to a crescendo, a car crashed into a brick wall right beside me on the road. Another time when I came home really mad with myself for failing an exam, the train window smashed right beside me, whole damn thing just folded and the fragments showered all over the carriage. I already referred to the picture smashing onto the floor that grim time I wanted to top myself. And so it was that I met Nicholas, in his own way just as explosive as the railway carriage window or the crashing car. If it hadn't have been for the e-mail from Jules with the picture of the sick tart, I am sure that Nicholas and I would never have met on the Common. After we had introduced ourselves, Nick and I sat chatting in the shelter. His grey eyes were the magnet for me and I kept thinking of his cock and balls pushed out through the crotchless thong, He hadn't seen my equipment yet but from the way his eyes kept straying to my shorts I knew he wanted to badly. So I obliged by stroking myself now and then and watching the hungry look in his eyes while I did so. His eyes and his deep soft voice. It was like everything he said to you was sort of very intimate. He spoke slowly and clearly in a deliberate way and it came as no surprise to learn that he was a lawyer with a big London firm. In fact, he said, in his modest way, he was a partner. His face, as I have already said, had a curious innocence. If he hadn't told me his profession, I would have put him down for a professor of mathematics. He certainly looked brainy - and very very sexy. The almost dreamy look in his grey eyes, the slow deliberate voice with its soft resonances, these were yummy. And he had the clearest freshest skin I have ever seen in a man. Just watching his lips while he spoke made me want to kiss him until we both dropped from exhaustion. After a while the torrential rain slowed down to just a soft patter. "Make a move?" asked Nick, meaning should we move on. I said I'd make a move on him anytime. He didn't laugh outright, just smiled a slow shy smile that had my knees trembling with desire. He pulled his mac closer around my neck and I shivered from the touch of his hands. He was about my height and build and the mac could have been my own. "It suits you," he said, his hands on my shoulders. He took me along a path I hardly ever walked in before, telling me his house lay over on the other side of the common from my own. Our hands kept touching as we walked and sometimes when we were in sheltered places he put his hand round my waist. At one point he indicated a public loo, a small delapidated building up a tree shaded path. "That's the cottage where it all goes on if ever you feel you need some action. Round about teatime just as the fellas are making their way home from work." I was quite surprised to hear this and felt as if I were being initiated into a secret society. "What goes on there?" I asked. He said "Just about everything." And to think I had been so lonely these past months and here was sexual paradise not far from my house. Sex in the woods! It sounded really exciting. You can tell what a kid I was! "You should try it sometime," he said. "Only be careful." "Careful of what, Nick?" "Careful who you get involved with and what you do." "Does that include you, Nick?" "I'm all right son, you won't have any trouble with me." He called me son which to my ears was just a mite patronizing. But as I later discovered he had three sons of his own, one of them almost my own age. Nick had started out on the muff-diving at an early age. And he still looked so innocent and fresh! He led me off from the main path and through some trees, saying he wanted to show me a special place. We came to a series of abandoned buildings which must once have been used by the parks department. There was a decaying greenhouse full of weeds and a with a tree growing out through the broken roof, a couple of leaky low cottages (labourers' cottages, not public toilets!) and the small barn Nick now led me towards. I had seen none of this before. "It's my secret place," Nick told me in a low, urgent voice, leading me to believe that things were about to happen. The main barn door was locked and padlocked and Nick conspiratorially led me around the back. I was fearful for his nice suit among the bushes and debris. We pushed our way through the vegetation until we came round to the back of the building which had weeds and rank bushes right up to the wall. Here we found a small unlocked door and Nick stood back for me to enter like a gentleman for a lady at some embassy reception. He smacked my butt as I went in. It felt nice. It was so quiet in there, almost like being in the crypt of some old cathedral. All you could hear was a faint whisper of wind through the cracks in the wall and roof. Nick pushed an old plank up against the door so that no one could enter in the unlikely event of their finding the hidden back door. There was some light from an old skylight that was covered in ivy, a green light that was a bit eerie. For the first time I began to have misgivings. What if Nick was some psycho and had lured me here to do me in? I suppose it was this crazy thought that made me push him up against an old work bench with a rough movement and start to manhandle him in a none too delicate fashion. I pushed my lips right against his mouth and started to chew his tongue while my hands unzipped him and grabbed his nice fat cock. This was totally out of character for me. Or perhaps it wasn't fear but pure lust resulting from the loss of Uncle Jules' sexual comfort. Nick didn't seem to mind at all. He was smiling softly to himself and his grey eyes looked at me with pleasure. He had pulled down my shorts and had his hands on my arse, squeezing my butt with delight. His cock and mine began to tease each other. I pressed my body hard against his so that he was squeezed against the old work bench. I pulled his shirt out of his trousers and pushed it up until I could get my mouth against his nipples. He was softer, less muscular than Jules, but his tits tasted nice. I nibbled them to make them hard and he leaned back in ecstacy with his chest pushed out towards my exploring mouth. It felt so good to be making love to a half-dressed man. With Jules, we had always been both totally naked. I pulled Nick's trousers halfway down his soft smooth thighs and the prickling of his panty against my legs and balls felt so good. I had been eating a lot and doing a lot of growing since Jules left. Misery always make me hungry. And with all the eating and all the exercise I had grown quite a bit in a few short months. And my cock and balls had grown along with the rest of me so that I felt much less of a boy and more of a man. "Suck! Suck!" whispered Nick urgently. "I need to suck you Chas." I stood back and kicked off my shorts and watched in amazed delight as this sexy grey-suited man went down on my hard and throbbing prick, his mouth so hot and wet and sucking. I put my hands on the padded shoulders of his suit as he slurped at my cock and the feeling of the material was so good. I could feel the slight stubble of his chin against my hard prick as he licked out my navel with his hot wet tongue and explored the rest of my stomach. This guy was hot. Now he was softly chewing against my tight balls, and then suddenly with one of his fingers up my arse I found my cock halfway deep inside his throat. I pushed him away but he kept on sucking at me. I pushed him onto the floor. "No, Nick, you'll make me come. Not yet man." He crawled on hands and knees across the floor and put his arms around my legs. I had got a lot hairier and the hair was black and quite thick on my thighs and legs. He started to kiss and lick my calves and even my trainers which were wet and muddy. Then his mouth was on my thighs, big long slow licks working up towards my balls. Suddenly there was a flash of lightning and almost immediately the rain began to thunder against the old corrugated roof. I was glad of the distraction because any more attention from Nick and I would shoot my load. And I didn't want to come, not yet. I needed to enjoy a long slow fuck for complete satisfaction and the sight of Nick's naked arse with just the white lace of the thong disappearing between his curvy buns as he lay squirming on the floor was doing me the world of good. I just hoped he wouldn't ruin his expensive suit. I said, sounding a bit boyish and pleading, for all the hairy legs, "Let me fuck you Nick, please darling. You have such a gorgeous arse. Is it OK with you?" He was smiling again, like a man in a dream. "It's not only OK Chas, it's obligatory." Obviously, yet another straight man who loved to be fucked! But I wasn't complaining. And ole Nick had come prepared. He took a small packet out of his waistcoat pocket and out of the packet came a black condom with small rubber knobs all along it. He held it up for my inspection, still smiling and looking pleased with himself. Fucking sexy bastard! I kissed him hard on the mouth out of pure delight. He was melting now, getting right into the swing of it. I knew that he would let me do anything I wanted, and the sense of power was a tremendous aphrodisiac. His eyes began to close for longer and longer periods. I didn't know which was more beautiful, the deep grey of his eyes or the closed eyelids and the open mouth and the long hard sighing breathing. When we came out of the long clinch, he had a surprise for me. He put the condom in his mouth and wriggled his tongue and jaws about a bit. I thought, the mad bastard he's eating the rubber. Then he bent quickly down toward my absolutely rockhard member and put his wet mouth over it and slowly, as he bore down on me with his tongue, I felt the rubber slipping over my cock. (It takes a bit of training to do this. I tried it once and nearly choked to death.) I was close to cumming once again, and now the condom was on I had to push Nick away from my cock. He looked up at me questioningly and I just bent down and kissed his open mouth. Then I undid his tie and pulled it down and kissed his smooth warm neck, licking at the salt there. I undid his waistcoat buttons one by one, both our faces looking at my hands as they worked at the grey studs. Then I opened his shirt and licked his chest. He was bending back, mouth open, eyes shut, and he smelt so good that I knew he was getting to a peak of excitement. He took a small tube from his pocket and smeared some lube on my prick, stretching the condom hard against my cockflesh, starting to stroke. I had to take his hand off again in case I burst. I threw his long mac over the work bench and had him lean over it. I took the lube from him and spread some on my hand and began to press against his tight hole. I guessed he hadn't been fucked for some time. I kept pressing and pressing, waiting for my hardness to subside a bit so that I shouldn't shoot the first time I shoved into him. I bent down and tongued him a bit, lube and all, concentrating on giving him pleasure so that I wasn't overtaken too soon by my own pleasure. I pulled his hard cock into my mouth, forcing back the foreskin so that I could lick the glistening head. All this calmed me down a bit. I felt as if now I could take my time. He was crouched with his legs open, but I didn't want that. I wanted his legs together for maximum friction. My legs would be open, straddled, but I wanted all his thigh and butt meat to be against my cock and balls and against my stomach, a wall of flesh for me to push against. I pushed his legs together and squeezed in my fingers for some last lubing. Now he was moist and ready and nice and slippery. I wanted to hear my cock oozing in and out of him as I worked at his sweet round arse. He was face down on the workbench and as I pushed my thickening cock into him, past the sweet arsemeat, probing that sucking hole, he began to moan with pain and pleasure. "Oh Chas, it's so fucking big, I don't know if I can take it all." I knew he could take it, that he was gagging for a full length. My cock only half inside him, I bent forward and sucked at his neck until he turned his face and allowed me to get my tongue against his. Then I pushed in more and he let out a soft moan that was like music. I waggled my tongue against his and I flexed my cock inside his arse, pulsing it once, twice, three times, and each time he let out a wet moan against my open mouth. I stood up and pushed my cock in further, deeper. I massaged his great back with my hands, rubbed his shoulders, feeling every muscle and bone and sinew. I put my hands under his chest and squeezed his nipples hard and rubbed his pecs, pushing in and out with a slow motion of my thighs, out and then pushing back in into that wet hole and feeling his arse cheeks yielding against my hard thighs. Then again leaning forward and over him, biting his back and neck, nipping his flesh between my teeth and placing my fist around his rockhard cock and pulling it and every time I pulled his muscles clamped against my cock to suck it deeper in. Ovo, who was sitting in a corner, started to bark. I sharply ordered him to sit and shut up and he obeyed, staring at us with his head against his paws. He was a good obedient dog. Now I was standing up straight with my leg muscles flexed for more and more penetration, coming out slowly and then ramming back in hard so that the whole bench shook. "Oh Chas baby, you're an expert, where did you learn to do this?" Nick moaned. I thought of Jules, face to face with Jules, and began to thrust longer and harder and deeper, starting to really bang Nick's butt now, making his flesh quiver. The sweat was dripping down my face and chest and I could smell my own rankness. Another flash of lightning, and thunder almost immediately after. The storm was overhead and the rain was belting down. I could smell the good wet earth and the electricity in the air. If it could have come through the roof in one great lightning bolt and have fused me and Nick together in an eternal shag, I would have died a very happy man. Nick was pushing against me with his great butt as I pushed into him, both of us working together. I said, "I'm near Nick, how about you?" He had his hand on his cock now, pulling hard on the tight flesh. "Nearly darling, very nearly." Now was the time to open his legs. I pushed his feet apart with my own so that his hole was as wide and open as possible and I held his buttflesh apart with my hands and then I was lunging and bucking and there was no more thought or hope of controlling my actions, it was just the steaming sex engine taking over, whoosh whoosh whoosh and the sucking of his wet arse as I hammered in and out. Then, deep inside him, I was still, just at the edge, waiting. I knew it would come now and I just waited as the spunk collected itself in my innards ready to be released. "Come on Nick," I shouted. "Come for me now!" And the clever fucker did, that wonderful wonderful sweet fucker! I heard the deep grunt and I felt his spasms and I just leant back as I gave a final squeeze of his cheeks and let my whole stream go in one long delirious shoot, and then another, then another, my body bucking against Nick without my needing to move, that glorious reflex jacking that is the greatest pleasure in the world. All comments gladly accepted, feel free to e-mail me at charbry@supanet.com More of this story coming soon, and thanks to those who said they liked Part One.