Everything is from somewhere else usually. Love following the thrill of what is sexual about men for me. I have another blog of art stuff I like and want to remember: tommyasisstuff.tumblr.com Tom
“Fuck,” I gasped, my cock swelling inside my cousin Alfie’s ass, the pressure building in my shaft as I pinned him to the mattress. “I’m about to bust,” I warned, my balls throbbing for release. Even though we were first cousins, Alfie and I had never been all that close—well, not until I had my dick inside him.Â
Ever since we were young, my cousin Alfie came to stay with my family during the first week of summer, sharing my room with me. Though our dads were brothers and we were born only a month apart, Alfie and I were not cut from the same cloth. Even as kids, our differences were apparent.Â
I was into sports, your average red-blooded, rough-and-tumble boy. Alfie, on the other hand, was more like a girl. He showed no interest in shooting hoops with me in the driveway, or catching tadpoles down at the pond. All he ever wanted to do was watch rom-coms on Lifetime or play house with me—I had to be the dad and he was the mom. He once tried to braid my hair.Â
So it was no surprise when Alfie came out as gay. Honestly, I didn’t care. The fact that he liked girly things and was into boys had no bearing on my life, especially since I only spent one short week with Alfie out of the entire year. Our differing sexual orientations didn’t matter—until the summer before we went to college.Â
“You have a girlfriend?” he asked pointedly on the first night of his visit as we were getting ready for bed in my room.
“Nah,” I answered. “The girls around here are, like, super religious and conservative. Most of their parents won’t let them date until they’re ready for marriage.”
“That’s fucked up,” Alfie replied, taking a seat on the bed we had to share. “So I guess that means you’re still a virgin?”
“Yeah,” I admitted sheepishly.  “You still a virgin, too?”
“Hardly,” Alfie laughed. “I’ve hooked up with lots of guys.”
“Where—where do you find these guys?” I pressed, jealous to find my gay cousin had a sex life when I was batting zero.
“Sometimes on Grindr,” he shared. “But mostly I like to get fucked at this one city park by my house. There’s a men’s room that’s always teaming with guys looking to drop a load. I can score six or seven cocks in less than an hour.”
“You just let random dudes—total strangers—fuck you?” I asked incredulously.Â
“Yeah,” Alfie laughed. “You can fuck me, if you want. Guys tell me that I’m super tight.”
“The fuck?!” I spat. “Dude, I’m not gonna fuck you. I’m not gay like you.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Alfie insisted. “Most of the guys who fuck me are straight guys who just need to dump a load. You wouldn’t believe how many dudes with wedding bands that have bred my ass.”
“That’s fucked up,” I declared, ending the discussion. “I’m not gonna fuck you.”
I then left my cousin upon my bed as I locked myself in the bathroom for a shower, my mind reeling. Who the fuck did Alfie think he was by propositioning me like that? And his admission that straight guys fuck him? That was fucked up. Or was it? How many nights had I jacked myself off in bed, my cock aching to feel the blissful embrace of a warm hole?Â
My persistent virginity had become a sore subject for me. I was heading to college in a few short months with zero experience under my belt. What would happen the first time I hooked up with some easy sorority bitch and she discovered that I had no game—no fucking clue what to do between her legs? I would be ridiculed, emasculated. I couldn’t take that risk. But could I fuck Alfie, losing my virginity to my cousin?
I emerged from the bathroom moments later, freshly showered with a towel around my waist, still conflicted about Alfie’s offer. Part of me was repulsed by the idea of putting my dick in him, but the other part of me (below my waist) was aching to finally experience a warm hole. Little did I know that Alfie had taken steps to make the decision easy for me.
“What the fuck?!” I gasped upon finding Alfie upon my bed. He was naked and crouched down on all fours, like a frog about to jump, with his ass exposed to me. His pink, puckered hole was wet and glistening, a bottle of lube discarded next to him on the mattress.Â
“Fuck me,” he moaned, his face resting upon the mattress, his sphincter winking at me. “I want to feel your dick inside me.”
I can’t explain it—this pull that Alfie’s wet hole had upon me. It was like being in a trance, my body unable to resist the external stimulus that was taking control of my mind. My towel dropped, my eight-incher springing to attention. Like a divining rod, my hard cock led me to his hole—a homing beacon guiding me to blissful release.Â
“Just shove it in,” Alfie commanded, as I kneeled behind him on the bed, the rounded tip of my cock head pressed against his puckered hole. “I’m ready for you.”
“Fuuuuuck,” I exhaled, my head tipping back in ecstasy as I pushed into him, his warm fuck canal embracing my shaft, pulling me into him until my balls were pressed against his hole. “It’s so fucking warm,” I marveled like a virgin novice, beginning to deliver a series of rapid thrusts into his bowels.
“You’re no longer a virgin,” he congratulated me. “Now slow down. You don’t want to nut too fast.”
“I already feel like I have to nut,” I admitted, my balls beginning to hug my body, eager for release.
“Hold still for a moment,” Alfie commanded. “It will pass.”
I did as told, holding still within his depths as the pressure began to subside. “Okay—I’m good now,” I reported. “Crisis averted.”
“Good,” Alfie looked back at me with a wink. “Now start out slower this time. You want to build up to your orgasm, or you’ll blow your wad too fast.”
“Okay,” I agreed, resuming my motion, my hips delivering some slow, steady thrusts into his fuck canal. “Jesus, this feels incredible.”
“You like my cunt?” Alfie taunted, squeezing the base of my cock with his sphincter.Â
“It’s fucking incredible,” I exhaled. “When did you last take some dick?”
“Uh—this morning—at the airport just before my flight.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “This one hung, married pilot railed my ass in the men’s room off the food court. He dumped a big fucking load in me—it’s probably still all up in there.”
“That’s hot,” I exclaimed, staring down at my cock buried in Alfie’s cunt. I couldn’t explain it, but the idea that some dude had used my cousin’s ass just earlier that day was a huge turn on. I had joined the exclusive ranks of straight guys who use gay dudes to get off.
“Mmm yeah, fuck me deep like that,” Alfie pulled me back to reality, his ass grinding into me, taking me deeper.Â
“You like my big dick in you?” I queried. “You like feeling my big cock all up in your tight cunt?”
“Yes—I love your big cock inside me. Now fuck me harder,” he commanded. “Fucking give it to me.”
Needing no further invitation, I abandoned the slow and steady strokes and began to let loose on his wet cunt. Pushing Alfie forward on the bed, I planted my arms on either side of his body and raised myself into a plank. Instantly, I began to jackhammer his hole at a frenzied pace, the headboard banging against the wall.
“Yeah, give it to me,” Alfie begged, my balls slapping against his hole rhythmically, his cunt opening up even more for me. “I want to feel you cumming inside me.”
“You’re about to get your wish,” I replied. The precipice of orgasm was upon me once more, but this time there was no ignoring it. “Fuck,” I gasped, my cock swelling inside my cousin’s ass, the pressure building in my shaft as I pinned him to the mattress. “I’m about to bust,” I warned, my balls throbbing for release.Â
“Breed me,” Alfie pleaded. “Shoot that load inside me.”
Instantly, my cousin got his wish, my big dick exploding inside of him. My warm load spewed into the deepest recesses of his bowels, giving up our shared DNA. “FUCK,” I grunted, my cock pulsing in his void. “FUCK—FUCK.”
“Mmm yeah,” Alfie moaned. “Breed my fucking hole. Your cum feels so warm inside me.”
I collapsed upon Alfie as my balls finished their release, our bodied melded together until the deed was done. I pulled out of him and rolled over, my spent cock smacking against my thigh.
Alfie was immediately upon me, licking my cummy cock clean. He then ambled to the bathroom to clean himself up, leaving me in bed. I was soon asleep, my exhausted body succumbing to post-coital bliss, my virginity a thing of the past.
I went down for breakfast the next morning after pounding another load into Alfie, relieving my morning wood with an intense orgasm in his depths. Alfie was in the shower, rinsing off his used, cummy hole, when I found Mom and Dad having coffee at the kitchen table.Â
“I’ve been thinking,” I announced, pouring myself a bowl of Frosted Flakes, “that maybe Alfie could stay longer than a week this summer? Maybe a month or two?”
“That sounds wonderful,” my mom agreed readily. “I’m so glad you guys are finally getting along after all these years. You two were always like oil and water.”
Mom soon excused herself to call Alfie’s mom, making arrangements for him to stay for a longer visit. Dad looked me up and down skeptically as he sipped his coffee, assessing me with his knowing eyes.Â
“You’re fucking him, aren’t you?” Dad accused. “You’re giving it to Alfie up the ass?”
“No,” I attempted to deny, in shock that he hit the nail on the head. “I would never—”
“Bullshit,” Dad spat. “I heard the headboard pounding the wall last night. I had to tell your mother it was just some squirrels in the attic. I know you fucked his ass.”
“Okay,” I confessed in resignation. “I fucked Alfie. It all happened so fast, Dad. Please don’t be mad that—”
“Son—I’m not mad,” Dad held up his hand to silence me. “Shit, I’m just surprised you’ve already discovered at your young age that gay guys like Alfie can be a good side piece for straight guys like us. I didn’t figure that out until I was in my mid-twenties.”
“You—you fuck guys, too?”
“Yeah,” Dad conceded with an impish grin. “I mean, it’s been a little while since I plowed some ass. But—say—do you think Alfie might be game for letting me tap his hole? I think we could have some fun tagging his ass when your mother goes to her book club this afternoon.”
“I’ll ask him,” I agreed, my cock already stirring.
That afternoon, with my mom out of the house, I learned that my dad is a total fuck machine when pounding ass. I watched him in awe as we took turns dumping load after load into my cousin’s sloppy hole. I also learned that Alfie is quite talented at taking cock for hours on end—a power bottom, he informed me.Â
Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.
“Hey, Brian, can you come here a sec? I need your help with something.”
It was a Saturday morning and Dad was calling me into the bathroom.
“Sure, Dad.”
I opened the door to find him standing in his boxers. Sunlight streamed in through the windows.
“Thanks, bud. Uh, your mother said she would like me to be smooth. You know. Down there. I thought you might know something about that.”
“Because I’m gay.”
“Well, yeah. The guys in my crowd don’t do that. Or if they do, they don’t talk about it. But I thought probably you and your friends—“
“Yeah, Dad, it’s fine. And you’re not wrong. That kind of trimming is standard for gay men.”
“Well, your mom wants me to try it. Says she doesn’t like going down on me with a bunch of hair poking her face, so…sorry. Is that TMI?”
“You already told me you’re going to shave your dick and balls. So I’d say you already blew past the TMI barrier.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. I guess. Sorry. But will you help?”
“Sure.”
I’d say Dad was…”supportive” when I first came out, back in high school. But in the years since then, I left home and started college, and he changed a lot, moving from supportive to actually comfortable. By now he appreciated having a gay son. I helped him to better understand the world, whether that was decoding gay humor in movies, explaining references in song lyrics, or even this: manscaping.
“OK, great. So how do I do it? He held up his razor blade a can of shaving cream.
“Whoa there. That might be a little advanced for someone starting out. Let’s go electric this first time, just a light trim. You can take on the higher degree of difficulty when you have more practice.”
“OK.”
“Do you still have that beard trimmer I gave you?”
“Yeah. It’s in a drawer here somewhere.” Dad opened up drawers next to the sink and loudly rummaged through them. “I don’t use it very often.”
I bought him the trimmer for Christmas a few years ago. I thought he’d look good with a closer cropped beard, maybe a little shaping. Dad tried it once and then went back to the fuller, bushier beard he’d had ever since I could remember.
“I mostly use it to touch up the sides,” he explained. “Like twice a year. If I think about it.”
It didn’t matter that he didn’t use it. Truth be told, Dad looked pretty good with that “regular guy” beard. He had solid baseline handsomeness, and the beard on top made him look rugged without trying too hard.
“Well, Dad, you can use the trimmer for this too.”
“OK, here it is. What’s next?”
“Well, I usually do it in the tub. Easier to clean up, because everything goes down the drain. Mom will kill you if you leave her a floor full of pubes.”
“OK.”
He stepped into the tub. A ray of sunlight cut across his furry chest.
“You gonna shave all that too?”
“What, my chest?”
I nodded.
“Nah. Just the dick. I don’t want to change myself. I just want to open the door to more oral.”
“OK, good. Because body hair is in these days.”
“Is it? Seems to me like everybody shaves it down, based on what I see in movies or in magazine ads.”
“Maybe some. But plenty of us appreciate a little hair on a guy.”
Something flickered across his face as he looked down at his hairy chest. “Good. Because I’m keeping it.” Then he looked tentatively at the trimmer in his hand. “And so now…?”
“Well, you’re not gonna be able to do it through your boxers.”
“Heh. Yeah, right.” He pulled them off and tossed them on top of the toilet tank. Dad’s cock hung long and low, snaking down from a tangle of curly pubes. Of course I had seen his dick a few times before—like in the showers at the gym, after playing handball—but this was the first time in my adult life I was looking head on, able to really study it. Dad had a nice piece: long, decent girth, color about three shades darker than his skin tone. And a nice big head capping it off.
Dad caught me staring.
“What? Is it too much hair for the razor?”
“Yeah, you’re a fucking gorilla, Dad. But we can deal with it.”
“Cool. So I…” he flicked the razor and it began buzzing.
“Turn it off. Let’s go over technique first.”
“Yeah, good idea.” He let out a shy laugh. “I’m a little nervous about this.”
“You’ll be fine. But practice first with the razor off.”
“Right.”
“So first, pull up your dick. Like to your belly. You wanna stretch out the skin. Make everything nice and taut.”
“Like this?”
“Yeah, like that. Then you’ll want to move the razor lightly along the surface. Go super slow. You don’t want to nick yourself.”
“But the balls. How do I handle the curves?”
“You just—“ I stopped, considering. “Do you want me to show you? Like, on mine?”
“Would you? Yeah. That would help.”
“OK. I peeled off my shirt and my jeans. I lowered my briefs and kicked them off to the side. The bathroom air felt cool on my newly naked skin. My balls started retreating, pulling up and in for warmth. I tugged them back down. Didn’t want to look tiny. Although I wasn’t sure why.
“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh?” Dad said. I looked up. “Yours is almost the same shape,” he continued. “And about the same size too.”
“Nah. You’re bigger, I think.”
“Maybe. But you’re probably just cold. Only gotta warm up a little.”
I felt a jolt down below. Electricity. Energy. It was like a mix of nervousness and excitement shot through my body, similar to the excited jitters you get when you’re gearing up for a performance.
Haha, some performance. This was like making a TikTok for suburban dads to learn about manscaping.
“Here.” Dad handed me the razor.
“I, uh…I should probably get in the tub with you. I don’t want to get hair on the floor.”
“Right.”
Dad shuffled to the side and made room. I stepped in, next to him. It was a tight fit. I could feel Dad’s body heat radiate into the space between us.
“I shaved last weekend,” I explained to him, “so there’s not a lot of new growth to take off. But I can still demonstrate the movement.” I pulled my cock upward and stretched out the skin to show him.
“Looks pretty good already. Nice and clean.”
“Uh huh.” I switched on the razor, then pulled it slowly and carefully along my shaft, coming up from the balls. The razor buzzed along my skin, warming it up. The vibrations teased my cock, which started plumping. It wasn’t an erection, really. But holding my dick in one hand and shaving it with the other was typically enough to wake up my piece from in-underwear slumber.
I kept the razor moving and things were feeling good. My dick was stretched out longer and my balls were got warmer and hung lower. This was probably a good stopping point. Before I sprang an obvious stiffy.
“Now you try.” I passed him the razor.
Dad turned it back on. Nervously, he brought it to his stretched out dick. He looked at me for encouragement and I nodded. Then he proceeded, gingerly moving the buzzing tool along his own tool, and watching curls of brown hair fall to the floor of the tub.
“Hey, it works!” he exclaimed. “I was worried the razor would catch in the hair or something, but it sails right through.” He paused. “The buzzing kinda tickles, though.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“OK.”
Dad kept at it, going slowly and cleaning the sides of his long shaft.
“I think I’m missing some,” he said with concern.
“It’s fine. You can take as many passes as you need to.”
He kept going, moving up his cock with long, slow strokes. His dick started to swell and rise.
“Oh God,” he whispered. “This is giving me a boner.”
“It happens.” I shrugged. “Sometimes that makes it easier. It pulls the skin tight, lifts it up from your balls.”
“OK. Glad it’s not a big deal.”
But it kind of was. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. I had never seen my Dad hard before, and it looked…kinda hot.
My dick started to rise too. And I couldn’t blame it on the vibration of the razor.
I kept staring.
When Dad finally pulled the razor off and let go of his cock, the thing was half-hard, protruding from his crotch and swaying at half-mast.
“Bri, I forgot. How do I do the balls?”
“Pass me the razor and I’ll show you.”
I had previously grabbed my cock and held it to my belly in an effort to hide my excited state. I pretended it was just prep for the ball work I was about to show him.
Keeping my cock pinned to my belly, I used one hand to flatten my balls, pushing my fingers to the sides to stretch out the skin. Dad’s eyes were on me as I did it.
Slowly, I moved the razor down my balls. I tried to ignore how good it felt, how hard I had gotten in front of Dad. Instead, I focused on giving instruction.
“You gotta go slow, work carefully. This is the place where you’re most likely to catch the skin and nick yourself.” I buzzed what little stubble I had and then handed the razor to him. “Now you try.”
“Damn, I gotta learn that. What you did looks so nice and smooth.”
Dad took the razor and stretched out his skin. He tried moving the razor in a curve around his left ball but he jumped back almost immediately. “Ouch! Jesus.”
“Did you cut yourself?”
“I don’t know. It felt weird. Like it caught the skin.”
“Are you OK? Do you want to try again?”
“Would you try it?”
“Try what?”
“On me. Like, show me what it’s supposed to feel like. I must be doing it wrong.”
I looked at the pleading expression on his face and then down at his cock. Dammit, I did want to try. And I didn’t trust my reasons for it.
“You sure, Dad?”
“Yeah. Please.”
“OK, but I gotta be able to see things better.” I knelt on the floor of the tub and used my fingers to spread out his ball sac. “Yeah, you’ve got a tiny nick there. We’ll put some neosporin on it when we’re done. But I can help you clean the rest up, with no nicks.”
“Thanks, sport.”
I nodded but didn’t say anything more. My tongue was swollen and my skin was hot. Here I was, kneeling with an eyeful of Dad’s cock and balls while my own dick raged down below. I was glad he couldn’t see it. I had to focus.
I kept Dad’s ball-skin stretched tight and I brought the razor to it. I moved slowly around the curve, placing and replacing my fingers to keep everything nice and taut as I worked.
Dad’s dick jumped a few times. I think it was when I got the razor too close and it vibrated the skin. Or maybe I was squeezing his balls when I spread out the skin.
But it kept happening and a droplet hit my forehead.
“Sorry,” he muttered. Holy shit. Dad had just spurted pre-cum.
“No problem,” I assured him.
I kept going. I lifted his balls up again and went back in with the razor.
“Does it always feel this good?” he asked. “Like when you’re doing it on yourself.”
“It can.”
“I mean, I’m sorry, but this has got me kinda boned up.”
“Me too.”
I leaned back and twanged my dick, letting it pop back up, shaking loose a little drop of pre as I did it. We were in the same boat: hard and leaking.
“We gotta take care of this. Stand up, buddy.”
I should have felt embarrassed.
But I didn’t.
I felt…
I stood up.
“Yeah, look at that,” Dad said. His eyes were glued to my dick. “You’re just as hard as me.”
“Yeah.”
“So don’t let it go to waste.”
Dad started pulling on his shaft with long, slow strokes. The skin moved in his hand like he was pulling on a glove.
I watched. And then I responded, mirroring his moves with my own. We stood close, in the tiny quarters of the tub, our shafts side by side and the heads poking out at each other’s bellies.
“Fuck, son. Stroke that dick. Looks good.”
“Yours too, Dad. Looks amazing.”
“You think? Bet you’ve seen a lot of cocks. So that’s like a real compliment maybe?”
“Well yeah, I have. And yours…I swear, Dad, it’s a really good one. Looks super hot when you’re stroking it like that.”
“Yeah?” He gave it a long, hard pull. Showing it off.
“Like, wow.”
“That’s cool that you think so. I dunno why, but it makes me feel proud or something. To know you like it.”
Dad squeezed his fingers around the head, milking out a couple spurts. He caught them in his thumb and rubbed it all around the pink cap. The liquid glinted in the light. I swallowed hard.
“You ever think we’d do this?” Dad asked. “Jack off together?”
“No.”
I gave my own dick a hard squeeze, trying to choke back my feelings.
“But did you ever imagine it?”
“No,” I lied. Then, “Well, maybe. A couple times. Just, you know. Curiosity.”
“You want to touch it?”
Was he serious? My mouth was dry. There was no way I could respond with words. I looked him in the eye, searching for a sign that this was a joke, or that he was fearful, or—I don’t know all the things I was looking for. But what I saw on his face was seriousness and intensity, mixed with a desire in his eyes. I didn’t know if it was fully his. Maybe it was just a reflection of mine.
But I didn’t care. I took it as permission. I reached out. I took his cock in my hand.
I held it in the palm of my hand, feeling how it was long and hard and heavy. I moved my hand up and down its length, until my fingertips reached his balls. I came back up and let my palm brush the bump where his shaft ended in his cockhead. I wrapped my fingers around it.
I felt a tremble deep inside me. I wasn’t sure if it was from the thrill of touching Dad’s dick, or if it was the realization that he taken mine in his hand. We were touching each other. Hands on cocks. Father and son.
I moved and he moved right along with me. Some kind of pent-up energy pushed us both, and we pulled our hands up and down each other’s cocks. I applied pressure—just enough friction—to make his breath catch and his skin tighten. Dad leaned in close and squeezed his hand tighter around me.
We stood close enough for me to feel the heat from his skin and sense the crackle of static electricity from the ends of his chest hair. We were close enough to kiss, but kept our heads turned 45 degrees to the side, our eyes cast down. It was easier to look down at our cocks than to face up to the reality of who those cocks were attached to.
We watched and we stroked. Dad’s long cock stayed trapped in my hand. I moved—sliding, squeezing, strangling. I watched Dad’s belly tense, sucking in and puffing out, as I made his breathing irregular.
“Fuck, son. You know how to work a cock.”
“Thanks, Dad. It’s…I’m glad to do it.”
“Fuck, you’ve got me so hot, Bri. I’m not gonna last very long here.”
“Go for it. Don’t hold back. Shoot when you’re ready. Let it all out.”
“You sure? It’s gonna be messy.”
“Bring it.”
I brought my other hand to his crotch, going underneath and grabbing his balls. They were keyed up, boiling hot and threatening to rise. I put my hand around them, squeezing the balls, pulling the sac.
“Oh, Jesus!”
Dad started to spray. Hot, heavy splotches nailed my chest in five staccato shots. Three longer, gushing spurts followed. Warmth dripped down my belly in rivulets.
And then it hit me. I was naked in the bathroom, wearing nothing but the mess of Dad’s cum.
That when things started to boil up in me too. Dad increased speed and intensity, his hands bringing me to the edge. But it was the thought of his steaming load coating my naked body that pushed me over.
I grunted and shot, pushing my hips forward and gnashing my teeth like I was about to tear something apart.
Dad caught my load in his hand, somehow knowing just the right size to make his fist. It caught and contained every spurt, all the liquid going inside.
After my last grunting spasm, he took his hand off. He rotated it open, palm up, cupping the viscous white puddle to show me.
“Wow, you done good, son. That’s a great fuckin’ load.” He laughed and smeared his hand across my chest, mixing my cum into his. “You’re gonna need a good shower for this.”
The last thing I wanted was to wash this off. I wanted to wear it as long as I could. It felt like a warm obscene blanket.
But I agreed. “Sure, Dad.”
Then I dragged a hand across my chest and used it to paint him too.
“But only if you’ll join me.”
He threw back his head and laughed.
“Smooth move, my boy. But yes. I wouldn’t dream of anything different.”
(For all other parts to this story, scroll down to prior post.)
So there I am, on the new deck, pretending that I'm not a little cum-high, wiping my spermy hand on my ass, trying to block the view of Axel, who is behind me, cursing and stumbling into his own shorts, when the UPS truck slides and skids to a halt and I'm thinking that's probably not how you should drive those big-ass trucks, but then I see why, cuz out jumps this thick, bearded, muscular, hairy dude wearing those brown shorts that are both completely dorky and totally hot - at the same time - and he's got this snarl on his face that could be a smile cuz it may have occurred to him that he's caught us in the act, but he could also be at the end of his shift and wondering what the fuck these two nearly naked dudes needed to order from UPS that took him fifteen miles off of his route.
"Morning," I say, stupidly, and he replies -
"Afternoon," correcting me - pointedly - cuz it's nearly five and like I said, I'm still cum-high.
So I blush red, cuz that's my thing, and the driver smirks, suddenly enjoying whatever it is he's stumbled onto, and then I see his fucking legs, which are thick as tree-trunks and one's got this whole tattoo wrapping up from his ankle to his thigh, disappearing into those dorky-but-hot trunks and suddenly I want to see where the tattoo goes.
Then I turn to look at Axel, hoping he'll help me out, but fuck if he ain't blushing, too, which is hard to do when you're brown as him.
And speaking of brown, Driver says, "Which one of you is Axel?"
And I'm still looking at my bro, who's blushing, as I said, which means he's turned this amazing maroon color that I can't keep my eyes off of, and also the driver's tat, which is hot as fuck, and before either me or Axel can say anything, because Axel is realizing he's got his shorts on backward, which is funny as fuck to me, but obviously not to Axel, driver goes: "Hang on - don't tell me - let me guess."
Then he cracks us a smile like he's on our side - and maybe more than that - and he crosses his arm (more tats) and puffs out his chest a bit and gives us each a once over.
Then, quick as a whip, he tosses the small box he got in his hand, and says, "Think fast, Axel."
And damn if my bro hasn't recovered by now and snatches that shit right out of the air.
Quick as hell and one-handed.
And I say, "Good guess."
And he says, "I'm good at names."
And Ax - who, as I said, is rarely pissed off, shows just a bit of tension as he says, 'My man - what if this was fragile?"
And driver, not skipping a beat, looks at him and says, "It's weed, bro. It's been stankin' up my truck all afternoon. If I was ballsy - which I am - I'd ask you to roll one for me, but you might be some kind of UPS Police and I need the paycheck."
Axel just stands there with his mouth open and his shorts on backward, still with a bit of 'goon-aura' around him, all of which is funny as fuck to me, so I start giggling that kind of giggle where you can't stop yourself, even though you try, and Driver says:
"Plus, I grow my own, so I got plenty, thanks."
He smirks, laughing a bit as he turns heel, giving us a view of an impressive, thick, v-shaped back, more of that damn tat and an ass that looks like it's gonna international-arrest those dorky shorts, cuz covering that up is a crime against humanity.
Even Axel is impressed - I can tell, though I'm still trying not to laugh ... unsuccessfully.
"Have a good day, fellas," Driver says, grabbing the side mirror and swinging up into the cab.
Then he winks at us from behind the glass and guns the engine, but by now Ax has recovered himself and shouts out, "Hey - dude - bro!"
And then he strides off the deck, approaching the truck, and Driver sticks his head out the side door.
"'Sup?"
"Sorry, dude," Ax says. "Didn't mean to be an asshole - you just surprised us is all."
"Oh - I know," Driver says, eyes sparkling a bit. "Cuz you got your shorts on backwards, bro."
At which point I laugh out loud, and UPS dude smirks, part smile, part threat, all bearded, so I ain't sure what side he's on, except the tat and the muscles probably give it away, and the fact he's playing a pretty sexy 'fuck-with-you' game that's got my balls roiling and Axel on his heels, which hardly ever happens - ever.
"So - that it then?" Driver asks, leaving the door open just a crack, but mostly implying that he wants to get off his shift and on with his life, even though the tone implies he may be open to a little more than that, but Ax has other ideas, cuz he's always been the ideas-man.
"Uhhh .... yeah - I mean - if you need to get back on your route, that's cool, but what I was gonna ask, uh, sir," Axel says, throwing in his Polite Southern Shit that he does so well -
"Call me Henry - "
"Aiight, Henry," Ax says, but it's not convincing, and I don't blame him cuz Dude the Driver doesn't strike me as a Henry.
"You see, this here is his place," he says, pointing at me. "And he don't know anyone out here, and I'm just helping out for a few days cuz I'm his best friend, and since I got here I been thinking my buddy needs to stop being such a cheap sonofabitch and get his ass some professional help, so I was wondering - do you know any good carpenters or contractors around here?"
And then Driver looks at Ax - and then at me - and he smiles a big smile, for real, and shuts off the engine, hops out of the truck and strides up to Axel.
"Yeah - I know someone. Me."
And then he sticks out his hand and Axel takes it, and they have a grip-fest, which neither of 'em win, but Axel is having more trouble than he lets on, cuz even though he's got Driver in height, by a fair amount, he ain't got him in muscle, and suddenly I'm looking at two studs going one-on-one and I'm gettin all the wrong ideas.
"I'm Henry."
"You told me that," Axel says finally getting some of his 'smart-ass' back, and Henry replies:
"Yeah - but everyone calls me Hank."
"I'm Axel," Ax says, and Henry says, also smart-assedly, "Uhh yeah - I know -"
"But everyone calls me Ax."
And there's this pause as the two wonder about how much more they're gonna fuck with each other, and then Henry, AKA Hank, busts out a huge loud laugh, and here comes Axel's smile, and the next thing I know Hank's coming up to me, shaking my hand, giving me his card, which reads, I kid you fucking not: Henry David Thoreau, Contractor/Carpenter.
I raise my eyebrows and he catches my vibe: "Don't ask. Mom's was a Major in American Literature. What's your name, son?" he asks, like he's my daddy or something, but then I see the couple of strands of gray in his chest-hair and a few more in his beard and suddenly that don't seem like a bad thing, and then Axel says, "Caden - dude - " and I realize I been staring, and here comes the blush back, hard, and I say, "Caden. My name is Caden Carter -"
"CC for short," Hank says, grabbing my hand, hard, shaking it.
"Naw - not really," I respond, trying to be assertive and Hank says, "Yeah, really. CC. For short. It fits you."
"Sure does, CC," says Axel, like an asshole, and they just laugh at that while I blush and then Hank steps up on the deck and looks around and says, "Why the fuck you need me? You boys doing fine here - this is good work."
"Yeah - well -" says Axel, about to point inside when Hank stops, looking down, and sees our sperm.
"Hang on - " he says, and I mutter under my breath and Axel turns away, half mortified and half hillar-ified, and Hank turns to both of us and says, "But damn, boys - never heard of that before: using cum as a deck sealant."
I just look down, shaking my head, blushing even harder than I have been, which is pretty fucking hard - I must be red as a goddamn tomato - and Axel is trying to stop himself from laughing, while also puffing himself up in case he has to beat some ass, which both of us probably think is doubtful, but ya never know these days. Ya never know.
Meanwhile, Henry David Thoreau with his muscles and his body hair and his tat is having the time of his life up on the stage - by which I mean, the new deck - extolling the virtues of cum as a sealant.
"I mean - that's a lot of loads, to cover a space like this - but you got a good start at least."
Then he walks over to both pools of spew, looking down at each.
"A damn good start," he grumbles, giving a distinct whistle that shows obvious respect.
He looks up at us and says, "Who's is whose?"
And I am seriously about to answer that jack-assed question but Henry David Thoreau ain't having none of that - cuz he barks out, just like he did before, "Hang on - don't tell me - let me guess."
By now Axel is laughing, and I'm just a bucket of blushing white-boy, trying to recover some sense of control, even as Thoreau squats down and puts his fingers in Axel's pud-puddle and mutters, "Damn. Thick."
He pulls up a sluggy string and sniffs it - then tastes it for fuck's sake and says, "Intense. Almost harsh, but in a good way - this here is some baby-making sperm -" and he looks at Axel, then down to my spew-pool, and says, "But this fucking load - Jesus Christ one of you is a shooter- "
"Oh my God," I whisper, not believing I've gotten myself into this scenario and then he reaches down for mine, which is thinner, and closer to dried up by now, but not quite, and he drags a few fingers through, sniffs some more, licks it off the tips and gives a huge smile.
"Aw yeah - that's almost sweet - fuck that's a load worth licking - and whoever it is - you sure as fuck can spray..."
Then his eyes fall on me, and he says, "Can't you, CC?"
At which point Axel laughs louder than I ever heard him, and I shrink even farther into my bright-red blushing skin, and Henry David Thoreau throws back his head and gives a gut-laugh that echoes among the trees.
After about a minute - which seemed like ten - Henry David Thoreau the UPS Driver, Contractor and Carpenter, jumps off the deck, reaches into his back pocket, and hands us each another card.
"This is my personal contact information," he says. "I'd love to help you dudes out - I can come out on Friday after shift, if you'll still be here - you can walk me through the rest of the place and we can ... "
And then he reaches down and adjusts himself and for the first time I see he's packing heat - real heat - and it looks like he ain't wearing anything under those dorky shorts, which can't be part of the uniform code, but up here, in the mountains, Brown probably doesn't give a fuck.
Then I look at the card and it says, "Hank the Crank" with just a cell phone and Twitter handle, and suddenly I piece it all together and damn if I'm not looking square at his crotch which is getting bigger by the second.
"Eyes up, Caden," Hank says, and Axel just laughs again, then there's handshakes all around. "Gotta go finish my route - you boys have fun - get that deck sealed - unless you got other ideas for all that cum, CC."
I keep blushing.
Axel keeps laughing.
"Hell - you can save some for me," he said, jumping in the truck, gunning it and heading out.
Then Axel tossed the box of weed to me as he headed into the house, grabbing his phone along the way.
"Roll us a joint," he called back at me.
"That's your job," I replied.
"You owe me, CC," he called out.
"And I thought you said it was gummies."
"Fucking sister," is all he said, as I followed him into the house ripping open the small box, overcome by the verdant smell of fresh grass.
"Who you texting," I asked Axel, sounding like a jealous lover and hating myself for it -
"Fuck off," he said, not relinquishing his smile. "Checking for dinner joints. Bologna sandwiches don't cut it - I'm hungry as fuck and some bitch I know owes me."
"Bitch better put out," I mumbled, trying to recover myself.
"Oh it's good pussy," he said, winking at me.
"Better be," I replied, pulling out the stash and beginning to cut it.
"It's fucking perfect," he said, putting down the phone, then approaching me.
"Let's get high, baby," he growled, grabbing me by the waist and puling me into his sphere. Then he kissed me - the fucker shocked the hell out of me and kissed me - hard at first, then softer, then long and deep, and I melted into his worked out, still sweaty, frame.
It's just sex between friends, our girls are okay with it as long as we do it when they're busy. I started fucking Joey when we were in high school and it kind of just stuck. It's easy and feels amazing, different than with my girl. His ass was fucking tight and knowing that I was the only one he let in made it even better. His hole was mine and my cock was his.
"I got two loads for you, and I think we have time," I said as I pumped in and out.
"Fuck yeah, I needed this. It's been like two months," he replied as he held his legs to his chest for me.
"Dude, it's barely been a week," I laughed.
He chuckled. "Yeah, but you know I'd take you every night if I could."
I never thought we'd both be so into this. The way he smelled, tasted, felt around me. I couldn't get enough and I fucking loved it.
I put my lips on his and opened and stuck my tongue in his mouth. We had gotten more intimate over the years and it just felt right. Our tongues swirl together as I slowly humped myself inside of him. I could feel my load building with every thrust as I made love to my best friend.
"I don't think I'm going to last long this first one," I said as I broke away.
"Then put yourself inside of me," Joey smiled knowing how hot I thought it was that he liked having my cum in him. "Go on Cory, cum for me," he added.
"Jesus," I moaned and let go, looking him in his eyes.
I felt my cock explode, pulsing in him as I pushed deep. His ass squeezed down and I felt his load hitting my stomach. I put my mouth on his and we've made out as we both gave one another the familiar pleasure we had learned from each other.
My cock was hard as ever as we came down and bonded and built our friendship up just a little more each time. I rested in my head on the shoulder and stayed inside of him. He rubbed my back as we took our time and enjoyed the moment.
“Alright fine, you caught me,” he laughed a bit, kind of nervous, but mostly just frustrated. “What do you want? Clearly you want something or you would’ve turned me in or atleast told the guys in the barracks.” Then his mouth twisted into a wicked grin, “You want it don’t you? Goddammit I knew it! I knew you were a cocksucker! Now get over here boi.”
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