The late 1980s.
Sometimes, it sucks.
Like right now.
When dad gets mad at me or I have done something completely and utterly stupid, he sends me to the back pasture to mow, plow, plant or whatever, whether it is needed or not.
I leave to give the man, room.
It allows time for him to cool his jets and not 'kill' me for being a complete ass.
His face reddens, his blood pressure goes up, and the veins pop out on his neck.
He points his index finger on his right hand in the direction of the fields.
I am afraid he is going to die, fall over from a massive heart attack, then and there, from his intense anger.
I know what it means.
Get the hell out of my sight. The expression on his face says it all, without the use of words.
I do not argue nor do I plead my case.
I just go and go as fast I humanly can.
This time I had done something stupid, again.
My fucking has gotten a girl pregnant.
A friend warned me that she might have something to tell me but the person never would tell me more or elaborate on what it was, no matter how much I asked him. His girlfriend is friends with the girl I have been seen with, around town. They knew before I did.
The news beat me home before I even walked in the door, it seems the girl's mom had called the house and talked to my mom. She, in turn told dad, which in turn gets me on the tractor, out of the house and away from him.
As I walked in the house, I pull my sweat soaked T-shirt over my head, I got the angry finger pointing and a few choice words, which was unexpected, since he usually said nothing, from my dear ole dad.
"You couldn't even keep your cock in your pants long enough to get through college," my dad says with controlled anger.
My mom stands there and says nothing as he makes his comments.
She did mouth to me though, "the girl's mom called."
"Damn it, boy," he yells at me, "you can't even keep your shirt on in the house. I don't want to see your nakedness."
He is furious with me, which I suppose I should expect.
My partying and 'good times' have caught up with me.
I am twenty, a sophomore at the two-bit local state college. My grades were not good enough for me to get into a better state school, so here I am, stuck at this sucky one in South Georgia. It ain't all bad, many of my friends from high school go here, they had hopes of going off to school too but their hopes were dashed when their parents could not afford it.
Oh well, fuck it.
So here, I find myself, mowing the backfield. The sun is glaring down on me; I am sweating like a pig. My jeans are chafing me from their moisture. I did not even get a chance to grab a bite to eat before I am sent to the fields. If I had stayed any longer, he would have killed me, no doubt.
It is then that I see a truck barreling down the rutted road to the pasture where I am.
I know who it is.
It is not my dad; dad stays far away from me when he is this angry.
This is dad's friend, Steve Silver, or "Uncle" Steve, as I have playfully called him since I was a wee lad of twelve. You like the hint of Irish I interjected in there.
I still call him "Uncle" Steve as a man of twenty, old habits die-hard.
I stop the tractor, turn it off and wait for him to come to me. He pulls the truck within a few feet of me and rolls down his window.
"Well, you little shit," Steve says, "You have royally fucked up this time."
"Yes, I have Uncle Steve," I say.
"I ain't your damn uncle, so quit calling me that," He says.
"Son, you are not in the place now to be laughing about anything," he says, "Your cock has got you into trouble again and you are going to be a father."
"I know, "I say.
"Let's get out of this damned hot sun," Steve says, "Meet me down at the oak tree by the pond, we gotta talk."
"Okay," I say.
He drives off; a cloud of dust trails behind him as he speeds down the dirt road. He is making his way to the pond further back on the property from where I am mowing. I put the tractor in a higher gear, as fast as I can and drive without jarring my brains out on this uneven terrain and make my way to him by the pond.
When I get there, "Uncle" Steve is standing out by his truck with his shirt off and taking a piss.
"Uncle" Steve is the same age as my dad, thirty-six or thirty-seven; they have been friends since high school and played on the same baseball team together. Dad knows he cannot talk to me when he is boiling over in anger as he is now, so he gives Steve, a call.
I swear the man is more of a dad to me than my own sometimes.
I park the tractor beside his truck, near the ancient oak on the south side of the pond.
I get down, unzip my jeans, take my own cock out, and take a piss next to him.
"Boy, that cock of yours gets you in to more trouble than anything else," he says.
He finishes his piss, shakes the last drops from his flaccid cock and leaves it dangling out over the zipper of his jeans.
He is growing harder as he stands in the afternoon heat.
"Well, what can I say, "I say," I love my cock."
"Who doesn't," he says, "but why didn't you pull out. You did not have to shoot your load in her pussy."
"I was too excited," I say, "she was tight and her pussy muscles kept squeezing me tighter and tighter."
As I am talking to him, I can feel my own cock growing harder and harder in my opened jeans.
"Where were the condoms, I got you, Bob?" he asks me.
"I had used them all," I say.
"Fuck," he says, "I got you that 12 pack. Are they all gone?"
"They have been gone for a while, "I say, "I haven't had a chance to buy any more."
"You fuck that much?" he asks me.
"Oh hell, yeah," I say, "there is this girl, the one I got pregnant, another one and a guy."
Now I am completely hard after telling Steve of my sexual escapades.
My cock grows fully erect and points straight out from my unzipped jeans like a compass pointing due north.
"You are horny now, aren't you, "he says, "Your cock grew harder as we talked."
Steve takes a seat on his truck tailgate, pulls his boots off, socks, jock strap and jeans and throws them over on the side of the truck where his shirt was already. He stands next to me, his cock, as hard as mine. It points out from the blonde pubes that cover his crotch, like mine is doing too.
"Well, get naked," he says, "I know you want to."
"I do not know how you stand to wear that jock everywhere. It would bind my cock too much to have to wear one," I say.
"It is all I wear," he says, "Coach, back in high school got me wearing them. I like the feel of my open ass rubbing on my jeans. It keeps my cock hard most of the time."
"I prefer to go commando," I say, "It keeps my cock hard all the time too."
"I can see that," he says.
I pull my sneakers off, my socks, drop my jeans, and step out of them. I throw them over the truck bed next to his.
We are both naked, except for out baseball caps.
"Now doesn't that feel better," He says.
We throw our caps into the wind, fully naked under the South Georgia sun.
"It sure as shit does," I say.
This is our spot or I should say 'the spot.'
When Steve found me masturbating out here by the pond when I was a teen, he knew he had something on me that gave him an advantage.
"So who is the guy you are fucking," he asks me.
He is stroking his cock, like me. He is cut but his cock has the age of a man that has used it far longer than I have used mine. He has the endurance of a man that can hold out for hours while me a twenty year old, has to hold back from cumming. Steve has been teaching me the tricks of better sex; he has been my instructor since I was eighteen.
"He is my baseball coach," I say.
"No, shit," he says, "I fucked him when we were in college too."
"You're joking, right," I say, "you fucked Carl Fletcher?"
"Yep, the one and the same," he says," he likes it rough up the ass. He cries out louder and louder the harder the more I pound him."
"Well, nothing has changed," I say.
"No it hasn't," he says.
We both laugh.
"I guess when the professional baseball career did not work-out, he figured he'd come home and be a college coach," Steve says.
"Yep, but he has a sweet ass," I say, "Much tighter than the pussies I have been fucking."
"Ass is much better than pussy anyway," he says, "Since I have only fucked one in my life, I do not have much to gauge the tightness of them on."
We laugh again.
"Uncle" Steve is a closeted gay man; the people in our area know but overlook it since he does not flaunt it. He was married at one time but that only lasted three years, "Aunt" Joan is a friend of my mom's, a long-time junior high school friend.
Did I tell you that my mom and dad were high school sweethearts and Steve and Joan were too or so they appeared to be?
Dad knows of "Uncle" Steve's out-of-town "business" activities but he has not minded me, hanging out with him. It is not discussed and what happens when Steve is away on "business" trips is not brought up in polite Christian conversation. It is just merrily avoided, smiles exchanged but the gossip and whispers persist behind his back.
We have a seat in the lawn chairs we keep permanently placed here. We stop stroking our cocks for the moment and just talk.
Our cocks, still hard, rise out from between our legs. We spread them wide to accommodate our third appendage. Perspiration is released from the furry crevices of our thighs and ass. I can smell my own musky maleness as gallons of sweat escapes from my pores.
"So where did you fuck this girl that you got pregnant," Steve asks.
"Probably, right here," I say.
"You always did like to fuck here under this ole oak tree," he says.
I look up at the towering oak that shades our seats. It is old it has seen a lot in its centuries long existence.
"Hell yeah, I love fucking outdoors," I say, "right before you showed up I was getting ready to strip down and mow naked like I always do."
"Yep, you would, I figured as much, if you could stay naked, you would," he says.
"Hell yeah," I say, "Once I got that dad would not come looking for me when he sends me out like this, I decided why not do it bare."
"I guess I am to blame for your naked tendencies," he says.
"Yep, you always encouraged me to be myself and not be ashamed of my body or my cock," I say.
"...and boy, you are not," he says.
Steve had taught me to be proud of being a man and to be especially proud of my manhood. He knew my dad would never talk to me like that. Dad had changed since they were kids growing up; Steve said he did not even recognize the man that he had spent so much of his youth with. Dad had gone from being a wild and crazy guy, according to Steve, to stuffy rules-for- everything starched shirt type. Steve insisted dad was not like that as a kid, or a teenager but once he married mom, he changed.
"You know why your dad is so angry, doncha you," he asks me.
"No," I answer.
"Cause he did not want to see what happened to him, happen to you," He says.
"What do you mean," I ask.
"Your mom got pregnant with you, right here," he says, "You were conceived right here under this oak tree too," he says.
He points to the ground under our feet.
"No, shit, you are fucking with me, aren't you aren't," I say.
"I am fucking serious," he says.
"Shit," I say.
I lose my hard-on instantly and stand-up in shock.
"Sorry to break it to son but you needed to know," he says, "I thought you would have figured it out by now anyway, to be truthful."
I start walking around in a circle. I am sweating in the afternoon sun. It is a hot day and this latest news alarms me.
"No, I never really cared," I say, "you know dad and I have always been at odds with each other, no matter what I did, I could never win his approval."
"Well, you and your dad are so alike in many ways, despite how much you two try to act like you aren't," he says.
"Come back and sit down," he says.
I make my way to the chair and plop down.
I am dripping in sweat, covered like I have been swimming in the pond that we are seated across from.
I take a few breaths, let what he has told me, soak in to my brain.
"Get your cock hard again, "Steve says, "Get your mind off this, what has happened has already happened."
I start stroking my cock but I am still flabbergasted by the revelations concerning my conception, I cannot get hard.
My dad's anger, my mom and dad, who fucked under this same oak tree, stifles my erection.
I stroke, nothing happens, I cannot get aroused.
"Come here, Bob, let me give it a whirl," Steve says.
I stand up and walk to Steve as he sits in the chair.
He gulps down my cock, from the top of my cockhead to the base.
His nose is buried in my pubes and I can feel the back of his throat as he swallows me whole.
"Oh fuck, you are still the best deep-throater," I say.
He proceeds to ride his mouth up and down my cock, pressing his lips tighter and tighter as his travels the length of my growing, hardening cock.
I am now at my full thick nine inches.
"I knew your mouth could get me back to full mast, it is your talent, Uncle, "I say.
He takes himself off my cock.
"I ain't your damned Uncle, "he says, "I swear you say that just to get me riled."
"Yeah, I do, "I say, "now get back to that cock."
He does, I did not even have to say anything to him really because I knew he would do it anyway.
His mouth is magical as he takes me, going ever so slow down my fuck-stick, eating me, inch by inch, until his nose buries in my pubes. He gently sucks me and raises my shaft, from stem to stern, squeezing tighter, as the suction is the sensation I am feeling.
"You are still the best cock-sucker, Steve," I say.
He takes his mouth off my cock, licking the man-juice from the tip of my cock-head as he finishes.
"Well, with all the years of practice I have had sucking your man-meat and all the other guys I have had since I was eighteen, I should be damn good," he says.
"You are an expert," I say.
"Turn yourself around, Bob, I want to feast on that hairy ass of yours," he says.
"Oh hell yeah, I have not been rimmed in a while by you," I say, "I want that tongue to work its magic on my hole."
I turn, bend over and give Steve my ass.
His tongue, hard and wet, works the same magic of his tongue on that tender spot. He is munching to sweet content on my fur covered hole, my male musky scent of sweat and the confinement in my jeans.
"Work that tongue, "I say, "oh, hell yeah, that's it."
He is darting in and out of my hole with such intensity, his tongue, a dagger of flesh finds the spot that is keeping my cock hard as I furiously stroke in the afternoon air.
"Oh yeah, oh yeah, fuck that feels awesome," I say.
"Awesome, fuck, I want to blow your mind," Steve says.
"You are, you are, keep it up and I will give you a fucking load to swallow," I say.
"Fuck yeah, I want that young stud load that I know you have stored up in those full balls of yours," Steve says with such an intense longing in his voice.
I am stroking my cock with such strength as his tongue rims my hairy ass. I am sweating and it mixing with my leaking pre-cum.
"I am gonna cum," I scream out.
"Give it to me," Steve says.
I turn around as the first spurts of cum burst forth from my swelled cock. Steve catches me in his mouth and sucks the remaining cum from my balls. Each suck of his mouth releases the pent-up man-juice from my balls.
I shake and quiver as the white essence of manhood is guzzled down by "Uncle" Steve.
"Take it, take it all," I cry out.
I can hear him swallowing my load as I am on my toes with my arms outstretched as I reached to the heavens when my seed is consumed. I feel all-powerful and whole, I am man, hear me roar, I think to myself as I experience this rite of manhood.
"FUCK!" I yell out.
Steve continues sucking, getting the last drops of me.
I am sweating. Steve is sweating.
Steve's cock is hard. He has not touched himself during my rimming or while he consumed my load. He prefers to edge for hours and stay hard; testing the lengths that he can sustain the erection, he is so proud to possess.
He takes his mouth off my cock, as he rises from my still erect member; he pauses on my cock-head and licks it clean.
"Damn, son, you have such big loads," Steve says.
I am panting. Trying to catch my breath from this sexual workout, I have just been a part of too.
"Breath son, breath," He says.
My pants, whizzing, are still manic, my body still quivers and shakes from my intense male climatic orgasm.
"Damn, that felt good," I say.
My body is slowly recovering from the intense orgasmic high.
"Tasted good, too."
"You do have good spunk, must be that good country living," Steve says, "or the constant fucking you do."
"It's the latter," I say laughingly," Good fucks keep you healthy."
"Good, before we leave, I want that cock up my ass," Steve says, "You think you can muster up another load?"
"I am sure I can," I say, "I am twenty and full of more."
"That I know," Steve says, "lets take a dip to cool our hot asses off."
We both run into the water, dive, our cocks still hard as we sink beneath the ponds water lily- padded surface.
"So what are you gonna do about the girl," Steve says, "Who is pregnant?"
"I do not know," I say, "I just do not know yet."
"You gonna marry her," Steve asks.
"I suppose," I say.
"You suppose?" Steve asks shocked, "You don't want to do the right thing?"
"Of course, I want to do the right thing," I say, "but I am not sure marrying her is the right thing."
"You know your dad is going to insist that you do," Steve says.
"Enough of this shit," Steve says, "let's swim and frolic like we always do here. What's done is done; we'll deal with the consequences later."
"Amen," I say, "I fucked up because I fucked."
"You gotta get control over your cock or your cock is going to ruin your life," he says.
"That's odd coming from you considering how much your cock dictates your own behavior, Steve," I say.
"The only difference is that I have not got a girl pregnant and you have," Steve says.
"Yeah, but you fuck men on your so-called business trips," I say.
"That's true, I fuck and am fucked by men," He says, "but I am careful. I take the necessary precautions to assure I am safe. I always have."
"I'm sorry man, I should not fire back at you when I have screwed up," I say.
"It's okay," He says, "I understand, I really do, just do not make allegations when you have no proof. You on the other hand, cannot say such."
"Okay, okay," I say, "enough of this serious shit lets relax."
Steve swims to the oak-canopied beach. He reclines on his back and backstrokes across the water. His cock in all its hard animal glory, points toward the blue cloudless South Georgia sky.
He is teasing me, taunting me to look at him.
He is enticing, I will give him credit for that, he knows how to be alluring and make his intentions known when he wants something, a real seducer.
His hairy body and muscular physique shows he is a powerful man, he works out. Dad said he bought interest in a gym in Tallahassee. He must want access to more men to feed his cravings for cock. Investing in a place that makes that fantasy readily available is a good idea. The man is always thinking ahead. What a better place to have a pool of men to salivate over, the locker-room, the weight room and walk around so many men, who are sweaty and reeking of testosterone.
"Dad said you bought a gym." I say.
Steve motions me to the shore. I move from being deep in the water to sitting on the sandy shore of the pond under the canopy of the oak tree, next to him. My cock rests lazily between my legs. I soak up the sun, feeling the sun gently roast my back.
Steve sits in the water next to me, the water rolls off his body. His presence, his sexuality excites me. My cock begins to come to life as it snakes upward from my groin, the round mushroom head emerges from its submersion under the pond water.
Steve is twenty years my senior but he is a strong virile man and still turns people heads, female and male, when he enters a room. I have even caught my mom eyeing "Uncle" Steve despite her knowing his secret. He is an attractive man.
"Yeah, I bought an interest in a gym, "he says, "I am even going to work in it every once in a while, part-time."
"I guess it is going to provide you with many ample opportunities to feast on and ogle cock," I ask.
"It is a plus of gym ownership, "he says, "but it is a business and I will conduct myself as such but if anything arises from it. No pun intended. So be it but I will not be actively seeking out men, if it happens, it happens."
I think to myself but dare not say aloud, he will "play" with the men at the gym. I have no doubt. He will play, he thirst for cock is well known to many, I even suspect my dad knows his longtime friend is a cock-hungry son-of-a-bitch.
"So can I come over for a visit and check out this gym for myself?" I ask.
"Sure, you can," he says, "you are welcome any time, you know that."
Steve stands up and walks to the oak tree.
He stands and pisses beside it and shakes the piss-dew from it.
Steve turns to me and says more of what he wants.
"I still want your cock in my ass before we leave today," He says as he fondles his cock.
"I think I can make that wish come true," I say.
"Come here, boy," he says.
I stand and make my way to him. He gets on bended knees and takes me into his mouth, again. I feel myself harden as he covers me with his mouth. His nose is buried to its nostrils in my thick bushy pubes. His face is red as his oxygen is cut off from his filled gullet of my cock.
He removes himself from my cock and gulps in a mouthful of air and then slides back down on me.
His rapid fixation on my cock gets it back to maximum hardness.
"You want my cock in your ass," I ask.
"Your cock is always welcome in my ass," Steve says, "yours and everyone else's."
I sound like a jealous lover, I suppose I am.
He laughs when he says this, it is not a joke but the truth and he knows it.
I guess he is making light of my previous comments, jabs at me for bringing him into my own screw-ups.
I guess I deserve it.
"You ever been fucked by more than one cock at a time," I asks Steve.
I have double-fucked a girl with a buddy of mine. She screamed so loud that a neighbor thought she was being attacked. She had to convince the poor woman, her neighbor, she was okay. Wrapped in her bathrobe, her hair all a mess and cum rolling down her legs, she had a lot of convincing to do to the old nosey broad.
Once she came back to the bedroom, to the scene of the two naked studs with our hard cocks ready to go again, we got busy on her again. The neighbor knocked and knocked on her door for a second time but she was not going to quit and have her fuck-fest stopped. So she screamed and screamed in fun-filled ecstasy.
Of course, when the police got there and found out that everything was okay. The cops gave my friend, high-fives, and me, after we finished our stories. They wished it were them plowing the girl's pussy and ass.
I want to do the same to a man.
The girl smiled ear to ear as we related our story to the two cops as they stood in the doorway. My friend and I had on our tighty-whities, each still sporting a hard-on, which seemed to have lives of their own and would not go down. The girl, who we had picked up in a bar wiggled to and fro, as she was leaking cum down her legs, while still standing naked underneath her robe. The cum puddled on the carpet and left a stain, the cops saw it all and each kept a straight face as we related our story. I do not know how though.
The idea of double fucking a man with our three cocks bumping into each other and spewing cum is a fantasy I want to fulfill, soon.
"No, "he says, "but I want to be in one, one day, so far it has not happened yet. Why? Do you have someone in mind to do it?"
"Yes," I say.
"Who?" he asks.
"A local college football star," I say.
"Oh, "he says, he seems intrigued.
"You gonna fuck me, "Steve says, anxious to be filled with my cock.
"Yeah, I am," I say.
Since I first began fucking him, his thirst for me and my sexual prowess has gotten stronger and stronger. He was the first man I ever planted my seed it, the first to really let me learn and know what a man really is and can do.
I catch myself wanting to love him and be with him but this is the South and this type of relationship is frowned upon by many. It is preached from behind the pulpits as wrong and abnormal, degraded, demeaned and people have even lost their lives from being what Steve and I experience. We care deeply for each other, why else would he check up on me when he knows my dad has given me a verbal lashing.
It is the only relationship in my life that feels right, that it is as it should be. Sadly, now I have a child on the way from a girl I got involved with because I was looking for 'normal.' I felt compelled by fear to venture out into territory that was not my true self.
I look at Steve as my cock goes in and out of his fur-covered hole. This feels good, this feels right.
"Keep pounding me boy," Steve says as my cock slides effortlessly in and out of him.
This feels right.
"You hear something?" Steve says as he stops his motions on my tool.
"I hear it too," I say.
In the distance, I hear a vehicle barreling down the road to the pond. It echoes loudly over the roughly bumping road. Sneaking up on you is not possible with such rough terrain. It is difficult to be quiet on such a road.
Steve hears it too.
"Oh shit," we both say, as we both are aware of someone approaching.
I pull out of him, the cum dripping in buckets as it leaks from my cock.
Steve turns to see my man-juice, seed, escaping from my overstuffed filled balls.
"I hate that that is going to be wasted," he says, "my ass was ready to take it all in."
Steve reaches down, swipes some of the escaping essence from my still-hard cock with his strong muscular fingers, and brings it to his lips and mouth.
He smiles as he sucks and licks his fingers dry of me.
We hastily run to our jeans to put them on before whoever arrives gets to us. As I button my jeans. Steve, ducks behind his truck to put his own clothes on out of the sight of the driver of the vehicle as it emerges from the copse of trees that shield the pond from view.
It is mom.
Dad would not come out to the fields to get me. It is our unspoken rule, stay away from each other until tempers abate.
Mom rolls down her window as she approaches.
"Hey mom, everything alright?" I ask.
"Yeah, everything's fine," she says, "I just came to get you and Steve for supper."
Her unexpected visit ends the fun and excitement today with "Uncle" Steve but tomorrow is a new day and I am sure to fuck-up again, needing another intervention, it is something that I do quite consistently.