Old Man Gus

"You're a fag or something, boy?"

I swallowed hard and immediately shook my head violently at the hard-toned question, making sure that I looked Old Man Gus square in his gray eyes when I answered him so.

"Uh, n-no sir," I stammered emphatically. Trying my best to avoid any eye contact with the enormously long black hung dangling softly out of his zipper. "I just can't pee in front of anybody else."

"City boy," the old man scoffed shrugging his big rounded shoulders.

We were standing about two feet apart in front of this great big oak tree up from the clay embankment of the six-acre pond we were fishing to take a leak when nothing came out of my full bladder.

"You're sure you're not a fucking fag, boy?"

I wasn't more sure of anything in my life that I wasn't a fag. I wasn't a fag. I had never been into girlie things like Pink Waldo from down the street where I lived. I even told Big Billy that much the week before when he accidentally caught me looking at him and his crew grabbing their crotches as they made there way down the hall to fifth period. Though, I was beginning to have a hard time not admiring domineering guys with incredible physiques, which I was just then struggling to do with Old Man Gus.

"I just can't pee in front of other people, Mr. Gus. That's all."

"Damn, city boy," Old Man Gus repeated in disgust, and then added, catching his thoughts. "Other dicks, you mean?"

"Yeah...I mean, yes, s-sir, Mr. Gus." I stammered again.

"'cause I don't see any chick your age standing around wanting to watch you pee."

"No sir, none that I know of either, sir."

"Huh," Old Man Gus paused, softly leaning in. "Then that means you hadn't come across a freak willing to hold it for you while you go."

"No sir." I shook my head again. Not knowing something like that was even plausible.

Old Man Gus chuckled, freely shaking that fire hose of his one last time before slowly tucking it into his britches.

Black as steel and built like an ox, Old Man Gus was like a walking god around these parts. His word was the law everywhere he went and he walked around like a shirtless Zeus sporting a thick patch of dirty gray scattered across his bare chest, hard like his bulky arms from years of sharecropping and horse training. His thinning hair may have told his age, but his skin was remarkably smooth and youthful compared to the wrinkles and sag that bested my grandfather, his childhood best friend.

Every few weeks or so, when I was out of school, my parents would send me an hour outside of the city to my grandfather's house. When he got tired of me running up his electric bill he would send me down to Old Gus's place to help him around his place. But whenever I got down there, no matter what he was doing, all Old Man Gus saw was a fishing buddy to go down to the pond with him.

"I know you're not a fag, Mikey. We've been best buds too long for me not to know that much about you. If I thought you were I wouldn't be so free to whip out this big thing of mine without worrying about you looking now can I?"

"No sir."

"But a man's still gotta ask to make sure."

"Yes sir. I guess so."

"...'cause if you were, I might just have to slap you off my cattle prod and send you crying back to your grandpa's house never being able to show your face around here again—ever. Now would you?"

"Yes sir. No sir." I said confused.

"So the city done got you afraid to drain your lizard standing next to another dick, huh? Why don't you just pretend that there's a partition between us. Try to go that way."

I wasn't sure what a partition was, but assumed that it was one of those divider things between urinals. "I can't sir. That's even worst."

Old Man Gus cocked his head with a surprising leer plastered across his face. "You know what, Mikey."

"What sir?" I stammered a third time, feeling uncomfortable in his glare.

"I betcha a city boy like you had never even seen another prick outside of your own, haven't you?"

"Yes sir." I trembled.

"A real prick, Mikey, a real genuine prick."

"No sir." I lied terribly. I just saw his, so big and huge and raw looking like a lead pipe.

Old Man Gus licked his lips. "Wanna see one, boy?"

"No need." I snapped, fearful that he was going to show me his again.

"Nobody needs to see one, boy. It can just happen. Like at school in the locker room or something like that; a bathroom. Back when I was your age we used to compare when there was nothing else better to do."

"Compare?"

"Yeah, Mikey, compare...to see who had the biggest dick amongst us or see who could shoot the good ole yogurt cream the fastest, the farthest. I pretty much had the game whipped on all accounts."

"Yes sir, no sir," I answered in my bewilderment. "No disrespect, Mr. Gus, sir, but that sounds kind of queer to me."

"Queer? It's only queer to city boys like you that can't pee standing next to another man. Queer?"

"I'm sorry."

Old Man Gus continued. "Out here in these woods it lets you know what you're up against. Take my big cock for example. If I got a girl hollering to the high heavens trying to take it, no guy with a smaller cock is going to try and come in after me. Sure he can say he got some pussy too, but he might feel inadequate because I stretched that pussy out so wide that he might as well figured he should've kept his ass at home; made it with his hand for a tighter grip."

"I guess you're right, sir. I don't think I would want to come in after a big guy like you."

"No, you wouldn't, boy. I still got pussy lined up to this day that no man would ever better touch because they're not stupid enough to come in after me."

"Nobody would." I softly giggled thinking his big thing stretching out some poor woman's hole.

Old Man Gus got serious then and asked, "I betcha still a virgin, ain't boy?"

"Uhhh...no sir," I straightened up to lie this time.

"Don't be ashamed to tell Mr. Gus that you hadn't gotten some trim. It's no shame for a shy boy like you."

He said that last part so deeply rich that it made me feel both arouse and safe. Yet when I opened my mouth with a "Yes sir" I quickly began to fill with remorse.

"No surprise there. If you can't piss in front of another man you damn sure can't piss in front of some chick like you own the freakin' bitch."

"No sir, I guess not." I said following his logic that you can't really do one without the other.

"Because if you fuck a bitch good enough, it's nothing to get her to hold your cock while you pee. It's almost a civil right. But I'll let you in on something, Mikey, you can't begin to try and woo a chick if you're not confident in how to fuck her right once you get her. The two sort of goes hand in hand."

"Yeah...I mean, yes sir!"

"Most guys your age take the wrong route. Watch that crappy porno stuff trying to get a clue. No decent girl would ever go for that. Not right off the bat, at least."

"So what'd I do, sir?"

"In order to know what the hell you're doing you need to get fucked."

"Get fucked, sir? Don't I need a girl to do that?"

"Naw, boy," Old Man Gus smirked with that look in his eye. "You need someone with a hard dick to teach you."

"That still sounds kind of queer to me, Mr. Gus." I trembled nervously, afraid that his brute strength might not take too kindly to me calling what he said queer.

"It only makes you queer if you're not secure enough in your manhood. You need to know what it's like for a girl so you know what to do and what not to do. That's how I got your granddaddy started."

"Grandpa had five wives, sir. He didn't need any help scoring any of them." I said, seeing enough pictures of my grandfather in his youth to know that he was a strikingly handsome mulatto man.

"How did you think he got started with the first one? Yeah, you're granddaddy was a pretty boy back in the day. Almost girl-pretty and had the women flocking to him like a rock concert. Still, though, he didn't have a clue what to do after he got his hands on just one. So he came to me one day—because even back then I was the biggest buffest stud around—he said, 'Gus, man, how can I be a big stud like you?' I told him what my daddy told me and his daddy told him. Bend over."

"And he did?!" I said shocked.

"Shit yeah. He fought it at first, but came around to take what I was teaching him to heart. It helped him become a stud, perhaps the fourth best stud around—behind me and my kin, of course. I even help train a few of your uncles, too, including Leonard."

"Uncle Leonard." I said in disbelief. Uncle Leonard hated fags and never been without a girl in his life!

"Yeah, both your granddaddy and your uncle used to love it when I stuffed their butts with this thing. They'd take what I taught them and wreak havoc across the land."

"And my dad?"

"Born cocksucker," Old Man Gus said mildly disappointing. "He couldn't take it up the rear so well. Probably why he had just you, and everybody else had a ton of kids."

"Yeah," I said getting caught up in the excitement.

"I betcha wanna be a real stud like your grandpa and unk, huh?"

"Yes sir! Ain't getting girls what it's all about?"

"Yeah, son, it is, but we gotta get you started."

"Started?"

"Yeah," Old Man Gus cocked his head. "The city's soften you up, so I gotta toughen you up first."

Old Man Gus took me by the shoulder and spun me to face him. I looked at him and he looked at me back, and before I knew it his humungous black cock suddenly emerged from its cloth-and-metal vault.

"Wanna touch it, boy?"

"No sir." I shied away, holding back my drool and noticing that it looked far bigger than before—even in its soft state. "I-I-I ain't queer."

"What I tell you about that?" Old Man Gus said, his threatening still tone ringing in my ear. "About being secure in your manhood? Be like your kin and help yourself get lots of girls. Nothing queer about that, is it?"

Before I thought about it any further, my hand had fallen over the thick rowdy ropes of veins that rode the top of his long hardening dick.

"Don't just touch it, boy. Grab it. Yeah. Rub it a little. Rub it like you would yours right before you go to bed."

I grabbed it, and started slow before I went for it with all the might my right hand could afford.

"Whoa, slow it down, boy!" Old Man Gus gripped my wrist. "We don't want to start a forest fire. Go nice and slow."

I began again. Nice and slow.

"That's it, boy. That's it!" Old Man Gus encouraged.

I rubbed his big solid heat of me slow and steady listening to him softly moaned and groaned with each new stroke.

"You know what'll feel better than this, Mikey. You're mouth on it...just like your dad used to."

"But," I blew out of nerves and edginess.

"Nobody's gonna tell, boy. Not these woods. Not this pond. It'll be our little secret."

"Okay," I mumbled.

I dropped to my knees. I was face to face with it. His big black ironed snake looking like it was ready to beat me up. I almost cowered but I didn't, proudly standing up to it like I did Big Billy.

"Put your mouth on it and suck it." Old Man Gus commanded, and I did, reluctantly, keeping a steady hand wrapped near the base, making sure that it didn't jump out at me. "Suck like you're sucking on a lollipop. Yeah, slurp on it just like that, Mikey. Yeah, go fast and slow just like that. Taste it like it's the best one you've ever put in your mouth. You want more. Yet, take the time to enjoy what you already got in your mouth like you want to suck on it forever. That's it. That's it boy! There you go."

Old Man Gus gripped the back of my head and rode my face, making me gag with every thrust I made him groan. I began to feel a bit funny about all this. Not because I was fight for air or my throat was making these new and unusual sounds, but because my cock also got hard because of this—and stay hard. Not to mention that my virgin hole began to tingle wildly in my jeans.

"Oh, fuck! Your mouth is sweet." Old Man Gus growled ten minutes into his rhythm, pulling me off his cock. "You could make a man come just like that. Too bad I don't want to yet. Turn around, hands and knees, boy."

"I don't know, Mr. Gus. Won't it hurt?" I swallowed hard, letting my imagination run wild thinking about him stretching out my hole.

Old Man Gus reached into his pocket to pull out a very small jar of a cloudy substance. "That's what this here is for, to make it as easy as possible for you. You do trust Mr. Gus, doncha?"

"Yes sir."

"Then do as I say all fours now!"

I turned around reluctantly getting my hands into the dirt, a few feet away from where he marked his territory on the tree. After that, I heard him fall to his knees right behind me moving my legs and spreading them wide. The order to fold my arms under my head and nest in the crease like a pillow came next before a long hard pause.

The first thing I felt was the heavy wet thing come across the clef my crack, sounding like thunder every time he thumped it against my rear eventually holding it there. Next came his fingers. Working my hole one by one, deeper and deeper, and then far more shallower, feeling good on the outside a hurting a little more when he poked around on the inside.

"It's gonna hurt a lot at first. You gonna fill these woods with your screams. Let them out. After awhile though, you're gonna be thanking Mr. Gus for teaching you how to fuck."

Old Man Gus thumped his big dick against my rear a few more times. And just as I was about to prepare for the worst, he flipped me on my back and slowly slid into me with his dick and my hole covered in grease.

"This is how you enter a girl. Get her on her back and get them beautiful legs of hers around your back." Old Man Gus instructed.

I barely heard a word he said, biting on the inside of my cheeks fighting the urge to scream. Not wanting to scream so soon.

"Ah, fucking fiddlesticks!" I concededly screeched.

I screamed and screamed while he chuckled and introduced me to more of his raw black inches. I made him jerk a little when I dug my fingernails into his back.

"Should've told you that was alright, too," Old Man Gus growled, chucking the last of his inches into me. "Mr. Gus has had plenty of nails work him over back there."

I felt balls and ball hairs pressed against my hairless hole, but not nearly as much as the troubling pressure building under my lungs and this unsettling feeling like my head was going to explode.

"Feel that pressure starting to build up in your?" Old Man Gus spoke, grinding his pubes further into me. "This is what a girl goes through when you first introduce a big dick to her. Just relax that hole and breath a little, will you?"

It took some time, but I did. It did no good. I waited for the pain to subside as he slowly pulled out and push right back in ever so often. I was on the verge of tears looking up at this man, waiting for his words to come true, finally thinking that they wouldn't, that this was just a ploy to fuck some fresh meat. The agony I felt soon melted into a wave of pleasure followed by another...and then another...and then a greater on before having me go back and forth begging for Old Man Gus to fuck me.

"Oh god, Mr. Gus, fuck me with that big cock! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh god, fuck me! Mr. Gus! Oh god! Fuck me! Fuck!"

Old Man Gus looked down at me with this interesting grin listening to me carry on in to those woods, "You know what that is Mikey? That's some dick robbing you of some of that pussy. This is what'll make the girl let you come back around every time. That feeling you're feeling right there."

He laughed, and I stayed beneath him secretly wanting him to robe me of it all. The friction, the build up; every time he pulled out and drove back in all I felt was his balls slapping against me. Somewhere along the line my hole began to fart back with each thrust opening me up more and more.

"Oh, damn, that hole is going off like a firecracker on my dick, boy." Old Man Gus commented, beading with sweat.

It was.

"You sure you weren't holding out on me, boy? Let some other man get up in this."

"No sir." I mouthed, my hands tightly around his neck, moving my head up trying to kiss him while he jerked his head to look elsewhere.

Men didn't kiss, I reminded myself.

Then, as if he picked up on my vulnerability, he leaned down and kissed me.

But something else happened in that moment. I felt something that I may have been feeling all the while, but started to really feel as it was just then. I twisted and panted and squirmed with pure delight with this thing right behind my cock.

"You feel that spot I'm hitting every time I go in and out."

"Yes sir," I hissed, "right there, sir, right-right there! Oh right there, Mr. Gus! Right there!!"

He smirked, making sure that he had the exact spot marked before he tapped it a little. He then rammed harder into me, going directly for that spot that he had been passing all the while.

"Oh, stop it, Mr. Gus. It feels like I gotta go pee!"

"Do you really want me to stop Mikey?" Old Man Gus asked, striking the sensitive spot once more.

"No." I said, feeling oh so good.

"I didn't think so. Just ride that feeling. If you gotta pee, you gotta pee. It's as simple as that."

Even though it felt like I needed to pee, I couldn't pee even if I tried. I was too caught up in the feeling and emotion of him riding my ass to do or think about anything else.

"Oh, yeah! You got a nice tight pussy, boy. The kind of stuff dreams are made of."

"Oh, Gus, stretch that hole. Stretch it. Stretch it! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

If I thought I lost control before, I truly lost it then begging him to fuck me harder and deeper, faster and furiously. He obliged, as I grabbed my cock and started stroking it like I normally would.

"Gonna shoot, Mikey! Gonna shoot, boy! Mr. Gus is gonna...ahhh...ahhh...ahhh

...oh shit! Freakin' fucking...shoot!!!"

Old Man Gus growled, but I was the one that shot all over myself in that second. He then slammed into me one last time and my butthole found its tight grip and enveloped his throbbing hard dick. He sighed, and I felt this warming hot spread throughout my insides back there.

He seemed to be exhausted and tired, but quickly pulled out leaving my battered hole trembling.

He looked down at me for a moment, hands on his sides, wiping away sweat from his brows. "I lied to you, Mikey. Taking it up the rear does make you a queer. Letting me shoot a load up in you makes you a total fag."

"Oh," I mumbled.

"But I also lied to you about running you from down this way. I ain't got no problem with you being a queer or a fag as long as when you step foot onto this property you remember you're my queer to be used on my dick."

I took several deep breaths. Finding the stiff pain I felt in that moment was more emotional than physical. I first found the will to put my legs down followed by the wheel to get up on my elbows.

"Oh, okay," I said, feeling his hot cream cooling and running down my crack down to the ground. "I don't mind being your fag either. But only if I hold your dick next time you need to take a piss."