It had been about an hour since the card game in the kitchen had broken up, and I noticed that we didn’t play as long as we used to. Maybe that was because the other two players were getting older, although my mother is only 50 and her brother Butch is just a couple years older.
The other reason that we didn’t play until the wee small hours was that my father, the other player who used to be at the table, was gone now, and while it was still fun to play something had changed and cards were no longer the only game being played.
We’re a strange family, or at least that’s the way it always seemed to me, but who knows? Maybe everybody else is like we are, normal looking to the real world but behind closed doors something all together different.
I’m sure when the three of us go to church in the morning most people will look at us and think what a charming family we are. Devoted mother, polite son and the helpful uncle who still comes to visit a few times a year. All I can say is that it’s lucky that people can’t read minds, if Mom and Uncle Butch’s are anything like mine and I suspect they are.
I had been waiting for tonight for months, and when my Uncle Butch arrived my heart raced as it always did. When he took me aside when Mom was out of sight he told me the words I was hoping to hear.
“You coming to visit me tonight boy?” his gravely voice asked, although it was tough to tell if that was a question or a command, since the ex-Marine always spoke in such an authoritative manner.
“Yes sir,” was my reply, as it always was.
I never called Uncle Butch anything but sir for all my life, and even now as a college student I still call him sir. I wasn’t a fan of the name Butch, which is what everybody called him since his real first name was Orville, and besides Sir fits better.
“Good,” my uncle replied and then said, “Do my a favor Keith. Make yourself scarce tomorrow night, okay?”
“Yes sir. I’ll sleep over at my friend’s place,” I told him, and I knew what that meant.
Tonight would be my night and as for tomorrow, that would be Mom’s. I don’t make judgments and don’t even know what Mom knows about her brother. Does she know about him and me? Does she know that I know about her and Uncle Butch? I try not to think about it.
So after the lights went out I killed time so as to give my mother a chance to fall asleep, spending the time thinking about my uncle while taking the opportunity to slide my greased toy lazily in and out of me, plowing the field so to speak.
After peeking across the hall and seeing the light still out in Mom’s room I slipped into the hall and listened through the door to hear the welcome sound of her lightly snoring before heading down the hall to the other end of the house where the guest room was.
As I turned the knob of the guest room I noticed that my greasing of the hinges had done the job, making my opening and closing the door behind me silent to mother down the hall. I knew my Uncle Butch was aware of my presence, but that was good.
Seeing Uncle Butch laying there on his back with his arms and legs akimbo and the bed sheets down around his feet always sent shivers down my spine. The fact that the only light in the room came from the moon coming through the blinds didn’t hurt a bit, since my vision is excellent.
It was hard to believe that his man was in his early fifties because he looked almost exactly as he had looked for as long as I had had known him. Oh, his brush cut had receded a bit and was no longer completely dark brown, and the same could be said for the mat if hair on his chest, but I’m betting his 6’1″ frame still packed the same 185 pounds his driver’s license claimed it did, and there wasn’t an inch of fat on it either.
I stepped out of my pajamas bottoms while never taking my eyes off of Uncle Butch. His biceps bulged and his broad chest rose and fell as if he was asleep, but I knew better. Judging my the way he posed there I think he likes to be looked at as if he were dozing, and if I looked like him I would love to be looked at too.
His muscled physique had always excited me but to be honest, what had most thrilled me about Uncle Butch from the beginning was his cock, the flaccid organ resting over towards his hip and exposing his bull-like scrotum which hung down almost to the bedding between his bowed thighs.
Uncle Butch wasn’t hard but I was as I stood at the foot of the bed stroking my erection and looking at his amazing manhood, marveling at the network of veins that ran up the length of his cock from his trimmed bush to the crinkled edges of his foreskin.
My uncle was the first man I had ever seen naked and although I confess to having seen several more since then, they all have paled to Uncle Butch. That’s not fair of course, but I’m spoiled.
“Thought you might have fallen asleep,” Uncle Butch growled softly.
“No sir,” was my response, the idea that I could have dropped off with every fiber of my being tingling as it was, was absurd, and my uncle remained motionless as I came around and climbed on the bed to kneel at his side.
“Good. That thing of yours always stiff?” he wondered aloud as he nodded towards my arching boner bobbing in front of me.
“When you’re around sir,” I replied as put my hand on his bronze-toned hip.
“Well then?” Uncle Butch asked, and with that I leaned down and searched with my mouth for his plump nipple in the hair, and after I found it I sucked on it and the other one hard, like I knew he wanted me to.
Back and forth I went, my dick accidentally poking Uncle Butch in the side as he stretched his ripped body to cover the entire length of the mattress. Thankfully he either didn’t notice my dick touching him or I was worshiping his body so well he decided to let it pass. Uncle Butch, you see, was not gay as he had already made clear. What he was, was a man with an overwhelming sexual appetite that needed what seemed like constant quenching.
“Good boy,” Uncle Butch moaned. “You know what I like.”
“Missed you sir,” I gasped as I licked between his nipples.
“I can see that boy,” Uncle Butch replied as I kissed my way up to his collarbone and around his neck, and when I worked my way over to the spray of hair that filled his muscled armpit he let out a moan of approval.
“Oh yeah. That’s my boy,” Uncle Butch said approvingly as I felt his other hand come over and grab the back of my head to pull me closer, not that it was necessary. “Lick it. Suck my armpit.”
It was all I could do not to ejaculate all over my uncle’s side as I attacked his slightly tart armpit jungle, and I had to keep my dick away from touching him as I slurped and snorted like an animal under his arm until he had enough.
“Good,” Uncle Butch told me when his hand came up under me and felt the crack of my ass, the gel he found telling him that I had gotten myself ready for him in my bedroom, working my toy in and out of me to both lubricate and loosen me for what was to follow.
“Always prepared sir,” I said while moving around so I could suck his semi-erect manhood, so as I took him between my lips and stretched my mouth to the limit his index finger began ramming in and out of me hard.
I’m not sure whether this was ever designed for my pleasure, because I always sensed that he liked causing me discomfort, but these days I welcomed his rough treatment even though I could never admit it to him for fear he would stop.
Was Uncle Butch a bit of a sadist? I think so although he would never really hurt me, and the times when he feared he had gone too far his real feelings slipped and he showed concern. What he did to others not related to him I could only wonder.
Was masochism in my makeup? Again, I think to a degree although I only derived pleasure from Uncle Butch’s rough treatment. When I had tried to let another man do similar things to me I did not enjoy it at all.
Uncle Butch got harder and harder, with every dip of my head making his monster cock pulsate more in my hand as it lengthened somewhat and thickened extremely. My right hand, which had encircled the vein riddled shaft when I began, could no longer reach all the way around as I gripped it while pumping as best I could, and while the enormous organ may not been a foot long when fully engorged the difference was not enough to argue about.
That was my signal that Uncle Butch had enough of my oral affection and he wanted something else, something that I doubt many others would or could take, but I love Uncle Butch so much that I would do anything for him. The pleasure I derive is just a bonus.
We had developed a script of sorts for our lovemaking, although that was subjected to change at Uncle Butch’s whim. While I used to just assume the position and take it, I now mount my uncle, straddling his muscular thighs as he holds his rock hard monster upright, and it’s my duty to mount the flesh and blood monolith and impale myself on him.
“Give me that boy pussy of yours,” Uncle Butch snarled as I wiggled around until I felt the uncut tip at my orifice, and then all I had to do was ease myself down on his meaty member while Uncle Butch implored me to, “Take it all.”
I would in time, but in the beginning I’m gasping and groaning, especially as the ridge of his plum tries to enter, and I’m sobbing and making faces while I say the words he loves to hear.
“So big,” I choke out as my eyes roll back in my skull as I embellish my pain and beg for mercy. “It hurts so much sir. Can’t take it all. You’re penis is much too big! Can’t take it.”
“Can and will,” I was informed, and I could see his teeth sparkle in the dim light as my ass swallowed up his weapon.
Did Uncle Butch know I was acting a bit, although much of the discomfort was real? Did he care? I think not. The two things he cared about as I began to move up and down on him were that I behaved like I was being tortured and I didn’t cum while moving up and down.
That had happened once, when a perfect storm occurred and his manhood hit the right spot and my erection which had been bouncing in rhythm suddenly started spewing wildly all over Uncle Butch in what was and might always stand as the greatest orgasm I ever experienced. Uncle Butch was not pleased however and I paid the price
For now I was in control, eagerly bouncing instead of gently moving and fully impaling myself with each downward move, speaking in tongues while Uncle Butch pinched his own nipples and enjoyed himself being used like an gymnastic apparatus until he sensed me running out of gas.
Uncle Butch then unceremoniously tossed me off of him and onto all fours, a position I would maintain until his superior strength would make that impossible, and he wasted no time in mounting me.
His grunts and my gasps harmonized as he took me, the aging bed protesting as Uncle Butch thrust hard and fast into me while I felt a warm shower of his sweat on my back. I came, without being touched as usual, and shortly after that my arms could not hold me upright any more.
My sinking to the sheets seemed to infuriate and re-energize Uncle Butch as he held my ass cheeks wide open and took me like an animal. I begged for mercy as he savaged me although if he stopped I would be crushed, and he showed me all the mercy he felt I deserved.
“Take it like a man,” he grunted as he neared orgasm, and when he came it felt as if my bowels were being soothed by a magic potion as his cock jerked inside of me.
Uncle Butch stayed suspended over me, dripping sweat all over me as his manhood slowly went limp, and after his tool slipped out of me he got up and prepared to go to the bathroom but he gave me a slap on the butt which I took as a compliment before he left to take a shower.
I struggled to my feet, my uncle’s essence oozing out of me as I quickly made the bed with fresh sheets, and after I gathered the soiled ones that I would wash before Mom saw them I hurried back to my room to go to sleep.
Before dropping off I jerked off, bringing myself to orgasm while my mind replayed what I had just experienced, my tongue licking my lips as I savored the faint flavor I had taken with me. The musk of his cock and balls and the salty funk of his armpits made a great accompaniment to my fevered jacking off, and after I came sleep came easy.
The next evening I made my excuses and left the house on my way to a friend’s house for an evening of sex that would not begin to rival the previous night, but I waited for a few minutes and looked back at my house.
I watched the living room and porch lights go out, leaving the house dark for a moment until a faint light appeared in my Mom’s bedroom. I was tempted to go see if I could peek in and figured that one day I would, but for now I just used my imagination and went to my friend’s place while trying to ignore the pangs of jealously I felt towards Mom.
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