Boiled Peanuts FOR SALE
14 Jul 2021 2988 readers Score 9.1 (45 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt
Driving around you will see them. Barely standing. Ramshackle. Leaning, as if they are about to tumble-down from neglect or abandonment or with a burst of a mighty high wind. They are thrown together with cast-off boards. Painted with left-over paint from whatever paint color is available after a finished house painting job or other necessary project. These signs simply read:
BOILED PEANUTS FOR SALE
Sometimes the word, sale, is misspelled, using the word, sell, like it belongs there in its place. And sometimes many of the words are barely decipherable in a script written like it was done by a first grader. But the intent is always known. Someone has some boiled green goobers for sale, and you can buy them from them if you have yourself a hankering.
Maybe it is a gnarled old lady sitting at her roadside stand, with her long twangy Alabama drawl who spits the snuff in her toothless mouth into a bent-up rusty tin can with a paper towel in it to absorb her tobacco-laden slobber. This same woman believes she has fooled everyone; acting like no one knows of her sinful, distasteful, and disgustingly bad habit. But everyone sees the tin can when she bends down and hauls off and lobs a wad of spit into it. And then she rises back up with a dribble of tobacco juice on the corner of her quivering wrinkled toothless mouth; the woman believes she has pulled a fast one.
And sometimes it is a pair like the two of my friends, Phineas, and his 19-year-old son, Finn, and his blessed namesake. But their stand is much nicer than most. And there are always some car or truck and possibly a semi or two parked nearby waiting to get some of the latest batch of goobers being dipped out of the large black cast-iron cauldron where Phineas or Finn is using his Granma’s old-timey tin ladle to do the task. Their stand is on the asphalt hardtop on the way to your destination. You will not miss it. And their signs, you will see, were made by them both. No left-over remnants for their signage or the attractive roadside stand; it was all built with Grade A Prime lumberyard boards. Grade A Prime like the two men themselves. Phineas was serious about this endeavor and meant to put all he could into it. Finn was only 15-years-old at the time of this big light bulb idea. And Phineas, barely pass the age of thirty. He became a father rather young in his life.
That was four years ago, and they are still going strong. The vehicles straddling the shoulder of the road is the ongoing proof it was a good business decision and undertaking for them both to do.
Today, Finn, the son, is manning the boiled peanut stand when I pull up into the clearing nearest the stand which sits next to the two-path rutted road that goes back to the two-story rustic farmhouse tucked away among the towering, majestic oaks, and the long-leaf pines out of the sight of the busy highway where the boiled peanut is located.
“Hey bud, how ya doin’?” I ask as I walk up the hectic activity surrounding the boiled peanut stand.
“I am doin’ really good, Uncle Henry.” Finn shouts back at me as he hands some pieces of silver and a brown paper bag filled to the brim to a young mom with a baby propped up haphazardly on her wide hip.
I laugh. He never calls me, ‘Uncle.’ He just wants to rile me. And it is clear when he gives me one of his yeehaw grins, flashing me those perfectly aligned pearly whites, that this is his intent.
“You dad at the house?”
“Yeah. Pops is there. He said he might be up here in a bit. But I have yet to see him make an appearance today.” Finn answers me with his usual cheerful banter. The kid is always so happy and content.
“Okay. Thanks bud. You need me to let him know anything? I will tell your dad.”
“Naw. I got it. Things are busy as you can see.”
With that Finn goes back to work. I should tell you. Finn is shirtless as he carries on about the business. And this current crop of customers are more than happy that he is without any stitch of clothing above his waist. Each bend and twist of his body gets a bated reaction out of those gathered around. They are all presently women of various ages staring at him. Leering. Teenagers and married ladies. Both. But all eyes are locked on him. Mine included.
His chest is clean shaven, like a smooth newborn baby’s bottom, which is different from the way it was a day or two ago when I was last at the house. Usually, like his father, both have a forest of fine hairs sweeping over their muscled V-shaped torsos. But Finn decided to change it up, again. Gone is the reddish-blonde fur that blankets most of his rippled muscled chest. You can see the small smattering of freckles that seem to glow when he has shaved his once furry torso. But the grizzly reddish-blonde treasure trail is still snaking its way down into his frazzled jeans and circling his recessed bellybutton like Native Americans on the warpath around the wagons. At least he had the sense to keep it this time, and your eyes cannot help but to look to where that hairy arrow points downward to the prize that is there.
The button-snap at the top of his worn Levi’s jeans he is wearing is undone and gently lays splayed opened. Like an enticement. A lure. Bait. But he pays no mind to it. Acting as if it is not there. Not undone. He goes about the business. But your eyes are drawn to that spot. And you notice the bulge. The prominent bulge. As your eyes venture down to this snake-like appendage that lurks inside his pair of dusty Levi’s nuzzled; the fleshy-snake in place there is resting on the side of his left leg.
“Oh-okay, bud.” I say as I turn to walk back to my purring car. “See you in a bit at the house, Finn.”
But then I am hit with a spark of a promise I made earlier to deliver to him from one of his childhood friends who I saw earlier in the day as I walked about downtown, before I drove out here.
“Oh! Benjie told me to tell you ‘hello,’ he wonders why he hadn’t seen you in a while.” I tell him.
“Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen him. What was he doing?” Finn asks.
“He was in town with his stepdad, a man named Roman, when I saw him. They were going to meet his mom. Something about her having a birthday party or something, he mentioned.” I tell Finn.
“He was with the man with all the tatts?” Finn says. “That stepdad. The latest one. His mom’s newest husband? The latest. Number four or five? Boy, that woman is something else.”
“Yep. I saw the man’s arms they were covered. I told him I would mention I’d seen him when I saw you next. He said he may give you a call in a day or two.”
“Okay. Thanks, Uncle Henry.” I do not respond to the word, again. I do stop for the briefest of seconds, though, but I resume my walk back to my car. He is still trying to rile me. It is what he does with the use of the word, ‘Uncle.’ But I am not his Uncle, I am just a longtime friend of his dad and one that knows many of the man’s secrets.
The drive to the house is made in short order. I pull into the yard with the sound of crushing gravel under the weight of my car once I park. I am greeted with a sight I have seen so many times. The sprawling Rawlings house. Phineas’ and Finn’s home. Nicknamed “Hector”, by them in honor of the great-grandfather who built the two-story monstrosity back in the last half of the previous century. I honk as many southerners know to do when you unexpectantly arrive unannounced at someone house. So, you are not greeted with a shotgun aimed at your face. All is safe. I know. And then I proceed.
“Phineas where are you!” I holler out once I exit the coolness of my air-conditioned car and stand in the gravel.
“Round back!” Is what I am greeted with in reply, the familiar deep baritone voice of the man I have known for the better half my life.
I fish my sweat-soaked tee out of my ironed khaki shorts, pull it over my head and throw it over my left shoulder while I stroll through the array of brightly colored azaleas that dot the yard like brightly lit candles. And there is where I find my friend, Phineas. He is seated on a lounge chair near the pool. Papers laid out on a small table next to him with an open brown longneck bottle of Bud breathing the somewhat cool shaded air under the canopy of oaks that are littered across the backyard.
“Hey, man! How you doin’?” Is the first thing I say. It is my usual greeting.
“I am good man. You?” Phineas answers without even lifting his head from the papers he is perusing with his determined eyes.
“Yeah. Doin’ good.” I say as I step out of my boat shoes and kick them aside. Unsnap the button holding my khaki shorts in place, drop them, and dive into the pool, au naturel. The water is lukewarm. And feels like you have stepped into perfectly temperate bathwater as it wraps me about in its warm wet swaddle. Massaging my tired and aching muscles. Bathing my cock in its warmth as I swim like a fish. Every part of me. It cools me from the heat currently sweeping through the region. It is one of the reasons why I visit. Just one. Of the many.
I swim around a bit. Just enjoying the wet cocoon, that I am in before I make my way over to the side of the pool and rest, with my arms crossed, my head atop them, propped up on the edge. My feet treading the water underneath as I speak to Phineas.
“So, you decided to go with the beard after you’d talked about it for a while, I see.”
“Yep.” He answers me rather shortly as he rubs his sturdy fingers through the new day’s growth present on his face. But his eyes are still on the paperwork clutched tightly in his thick fingers.
“Is it because of that new waitress over at Mick’s Diner, the one you are interested in?” I inquire further.
He does not answer me. But I can see how the bright southern sun dances in the blonde hairs of this new-growth beard, and the light that twinkles in the almost manicured-like appearance of the fur sprinkled across his chiseled chest. It accentuates his hard-earned muscles as it weaves its natural pattern there and follows the trail down to his groin and eventually to his cock. And that is where his other hand is. And where this hand was when I dove into the deep-end of the pool. His fingers delicately coxing the beast of his cock to life with his rough fingered play. His cock is veiny like the many streams that feed into the rivers around here.
“It looks good. Like the one you had back when we were both in our late teens.” I say.
“But it is much fuller, now. Ain’t it?” He says as he looks up at me from his seated position. His hand still massaging his growing and stiffening cock.
“Everything is much fuller now.” I say.
This gets a laugh out of him. And a tighter squeeze on his cock. Watching him, my hand disappears under the water and begins to roughly fondle my cock.
“You got a date with her tonight?” I ask. My hand still playing with my cock underneath the lukewarm water.
“No. She has to work again. Someone called in sick. So, she is pulling herself a double.” He informs me.
“Sorry to hear ‘bout that. Is she puttin’ you off, again, you think?” It has been a while since he has had a steady girlfriend. Years. After Finn’s mom took off while the boy was in school, one day. Gone to parts unknown. He concentrated on raising the boy. He let a life outside of his young son go. His son was the most important thing to him. Still is. It’s not that he did not have the occasional hook-up or an hour-long tryst at some no-name hotel/motel. He did. But he kept them away. Far away from the farm. He had a son to raise.
“It’ll be okay.” Phineas says.
“But you do seem to be quite horny, today. And right now.” I say.
“Hey man, you know how it is.” He says.
I do. I think to myself. But my latest boyfriend has been doing quite a good job of keeping my nuts empty and my ass heaped full of his manly seed.
“Yeah, I do.” I say aloud. I keep my other thoughts to myself.
I push off from the pool’s edge and walk to the shallow end of the pool and up the few steps and into the open air.
“Your cock is hard too, I see.” Phineas tells me as he keeps leering at me. My cock points out from my groin like a knife ready to slice through a man’s ripe hole.
I walk to the chair next to him and sit down. My legs spread wide to accommodate the dagger jutting forth from between them.
“Do you remember the first time we ever jacked off together, Henry?” Phineas asks as he strokes his cock. The papers that were in his hands are now resting atop the small table next to him. In the time I had walked up the steps and into the shallow end of the pool till I sat down, he had put the papers aside and watched me make the short trek to the chair nearest him.
“I think we were in what? The 8th grade? I am not sure. You remember the comments you made about how big of a cockhead I had.”
“Still have. Well, look at it. Look at it.” He says with his eyes still glaring at me like he always has. “You have the biggest head on any cock I have ever seen. And I played football in high school with all those guys; saw their cocks in the locker room every day. All the time. And yours is still biggest of any of theirs I ever saw…seen.”
“And you know all the ones I have seen.” I say with a slight laugh. Phineas gives me one of his all-knowing winks. He knows about all the men I have bedded.
And it gets a loud snicker out of him, too, in reply.
“Well, you know you can’t judge a book by its cover, doncha ya, know?” I tell my lifelong friend.
“If my football friends knew what you were packing back in high school you would have been invited to every riverside party we ever had after our home games.” Phineas says.
“But you know I couldn’t.” I tell him. “We were in two different groups. I was the nerd on the high school newspaper, and you were among the high school jocks. Back then those two groups just did not mix.”
“I know. I know. It was stupid then. Still is,” Phineas says. “It was a different time. Fuck! They were fine with a blonde-haired muscle-jock named Phineas, go figure. I was never ribbed about my name.”
“I know. You would have told me. If you were.” I say. “It was a different time. And it was because you were a blonde-haired muscle-jock that they let you into their group. Look at you. But times are a-slowly changing.”
“But not so fast around here, they ain’t. But look at that thang.” Phineas adds with almost glee in his voice. “I am still amazed whenever I see it.”
“And you have seen it, like almost all the time. Every day. For more than half of your life.”
“I know. C’mon on over here, Henry.” Phineas says to me.
“Your nuts are so full.” He says. But I know this. His touch is delightfully warm as he caresses my jewels in his hands. Kneading them. Rolling these dark furred balls in his fingers, like he trying to make me harder. Which he is.
The more he caresses me. I can feel the sap rising from the very depths of my balls which he is twerking with his active fingers. Squeezing them. Coxing the seed from deep within them. And as he does it. A clear drop of my juice does escape from the piss-slit in front of his face.
“I gotcha t to cream.” Phineas says. “Didn’t I?”
“I see that.” I answer back to my friend.
This seems to motivate him. He squeezes harder. And harder. As I begin to flow in a steadier stream. His one hand on my balls does not keep him from jacking himself with his other hand.
“Don’t let me interrupt you two!” It is Finn. Phineas’ son. He has walked up in his usual stealth-like manner and just watches the both of us as his father continues.
“We do good today on the sales, son?” Phineas asks.
“Another stellar day, Pops. Sold out of all of the nuts.” Finn answers.
Phineas does not take his hand away as he questions his son about the day’s receipts. Finn walks to me. Looks at his father’s hand still clutching tightly onto my furry balls like he owns them and plants a passionate kiss across my lips. I give him an equal one in return. Our tongues wrestling in the others mouth, fighting for the wet space amongst our teeth.
“That is some cock.” Finn says once he disengages from my mouth. The boy eyes looks to my groin. And my raging boner among the dark forest of hair wrapped around my pulsating organ.
“It has always been some cock, son, believe me.” Phineas says with his hand still maintaining his firm grip on me.
Finn kicks the flip-flops off his size 11 feet. Goes to the zipper that is still partially open on his Levi’s and skims the zipper down. He then grabs either side of his dust-laden jeans and takes them, without even a hint of hesitation, to the concrete skirt that borders the pool. And steps out of them. He is as naked as his father and I are.
“It is so motherfucking hot out here! I have wanted to be out of these damn clothes for a few hours now! Pops is there any way we can work naked?” The 19-year-old Finn asks as he positions himself on the edge of the pool readying himself to dive in; and then follows through. His splash echoes throughout the natural alcove created by the canopy of oaks and the large flowering azalea bushes around the pool.
Phineas does not answer his son’s question, he has already told him, “no,” more than once but like a dog with a bone he keeps asking. And he keeps getting the same answer from his father. No. You cannot work with your cock out.
Phineas brings his hand from my balls to the underside and then over my fiery red-enflamed glan (cockhead) and smears the juice that is leaking atop my swollen cockhead with his fingertip like a paintbrush on the canvas that is my tool. It is almost too much for me to bear but I manage. I have built up my stamina over the years from this type of action from Phineas.
“Don’t waste that cream. Pops.” Finn says as he pokes his head up from the water. “Isn’t that what you have always taught me when I was growing up?”
“I know what I taught you son.” Phineas tells his son. “A man does not waste his seed.”
Phineas then leans forward and whisks out his slick tongue and licks the seeping liquid from my piss-slit.
“You see son. It is not wasted.” Phineas says. “Why doncha come over here and help you dear ole dad take care of your ‘Uncle.’”
“He’s not my ‘Uncle,’ Pop. He is my boyfriend.” Finn says.
“Well come here and help me out, then.” Phineas says with a sense of demand in his voice. “I think your B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D wants his ass eaten.”
“Pop, there is no need to spell it out. I know what Henry needs. What he wants.” Finn says. “And he knows I will give it to him.”
“Your tongue would be nice.” I hastily interject. Phineas knows what I like. We have been playing together like this for an awfully long time. Long before he had someone to call him daddy.
The boy exits the pool by lifting himself up and over the edge of the pool. His cock, as hard as his father’s and mine. It is dripping wet from the water among his dense reddish-blonde curls wrapped around his cock that appear to make him seem all the more harder. And sexier.
“Lover, you do have yourself such a beautiful cock.” Finn says.
“I have been told that quite a few times.” I say with a giggle. “You and your dads aren’t too bad either.”
“But I like your ass.” Finn says as he squats down behind me. It is seconds after he kneels, I feel his tongue snake into my hole with the precision of a fine musician. He plays my hole like a pro. And at the same moment, Phineas gulps down my cock to its fur-wrapped root.
As Finn darts into my hole with his skilled tongue he jacks his cock in rhythm with his tongue licks and in time with his father who has not let up on the stroking on his cock. Finn is burying his face up to his nose and raking the coarse hairs of unshaven face across the soft tender flesh of my ass cheeks. These hairs on his face increase my sensitivity as Finn burrows into my hole with his adept tongue.
When these two double-team me, I am in absolute heaven. And for Finn to be so young, he has learned fast.
But he did have a chance for a lot of practice. His years on the football team. Baseball team. And basketball team, were not wasted, it gave him hours of practice on all those other boy’s cocks and their young holes. They were more than happy for him to suck them off. A few of them even let him do a little more and some were more than willing to let a lot of other things happen as they grew into men.
And it did not hurt Finn that his father let him watch porn, without shame, after he caught his son hiding out in a back pasture jacking-off like it was a moral crime that he had to hide in doing it. Phineas was not going to have his son ashamed of being a man or for having a cock dangling between his powerful young legs.
And both father and son stay naked about the house named “Hector.” And when I am here, I follow suit. No man seems to wear any clothes at their house. Maybe that is why all of Finn’s high school teammates on whatever sports he was playing at the time in whatever season were more than happy to be at his house. The freedom. Or maybe because they were horny teenage boys who only wanted to show off their hard cocks.
“I am glad you did not shave your hole like I asked you too, lover.” Finn says after lifting his buried face from between my parted ass cheeks.
In-between my hearty moans and sighs, I remind him that he would not like my hole shaved bare. Having the hair there makes it more wonderous and a treat. I do not think he heard me as he has dived back between my cheeks which he has parted with his deft fingers, making it all the easier for him to access with his agile tongue.
And Phineas is more than enthused to be devouring away at my cock. He has been in love with my tool ever since he first asked me if he could lick it when were both seventeen-year-old boys. I let him. But I am the only man he says he has ever had sex with. Or so he claims. I am not so sure.
Phineas and Finn seem to be psychically linked as they take me from both of my ends. And I am welcomed to have either man having their way with me.
“Suck my cock, Phineas.” I tell the friend of many years who is between my legs. He teases and with the licks of his tongue my cock creeps further down his throat. He gags and coughs but does not dislodge me from his mouth. He eases up my shaft, swirling his tongue around the engorged crown but he never takes it out of his mouth. He slurps my leaking juice like it is one of those frozen treats you get from the convenience store.
“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” I can feel the pressure building up within my balls as Phineas works on my shaft. “Oh fuck!” The only warning Phineas gets as I explode my load down his throat giving him all my seed. He grabs my hips and holds me in place as he drinks down my virile juice.
“Way to go Pops, you unloaded him!” Finn says as he stands up from behind me. His tongue no longer furrowing deep into my ass. Instead, his cock is nudging itself between my moistened cheeks after he had finished salivating between them.
Phineas does not lift his head from my still-hard cock. He gets every last drop from my cock before he looks up at me.
“That was good, Henry.” Phineas says. Wiping his fingers on the corners of his mouth and bringing what had almost escaped from his skilled mouth. “You taste just as good as the first drop I ever took when we were both seventeen.”
I am heaving in place as I shake the last vestiges of the aftereffects of my cum-dump down Phineas’ throat.
“Now you boys go play.” Phineas says. “But stay where I can see you two. I want to see it all.”
“Sure thing, Pops.” Finn says.
“I have yet to dump my load. So, I want to see it all that goes on between you two.” Phineas adds. “I want to see y’all fuck.”
“You mean. You want to see your son fuck me.” I say to my friend. “And I would not mind having that load you have built up in me too.”
“You got that right. My son needs to fuck that ass of yours, really good. By the way, Finn. Your ass is looking a lot firmer, son.” Phineas says.
“It’s because I’ve been fucking him a whole lot more.” Finn says as he smiles at me and gives me another passionate kiss. But all kisses from him are passionate. Finn is stroking his cock as his father heaps praises on his 19-year-old namesake.
“I don’t know about that.” I say. “But I want to make sure your boy gets plenty of practice.”
I hug Finn close into me. As much because I want his father to know he is mine. Our cocks vie for room as our furry groins fight for the space between us.
Finn and I move to a backless bench with the cushion atop it within Phineas’ eyesight. This cushioned bench was placed at the pool for this reason. To be used in whatever fucking happens there. Whether it be for father or for son. It was Finn’s and Phineas’ idea. They seem to have many of the same ideas materialize at the same time. There would be no laying on the concrete to fuck.
Sweat is dripping off all three on us. Phineas’ chest hairs are matted down like a swamp. He seems especially pleased with himself. It has been sometime since he has watched his son fuck me. He has been distracted a lot lately, but I am glad he is here with us today. I like putting on a show for my good friend. And Finn is happy to perform for his dad too.
Phineas likes to give his son pointers. Finn wants the boy to have the best sexual experience possible. And I am more than happy to comply to his daddy’s wishes. But Finn does not need any help from his dad. The boy knows how to use his cock, quite well.
“Don’t forget to use lube, son.” Phineas tells his son. “It is under the bench, where it always is.”
“I won’t forget dad.” Finn says. “But I ain’t through using my tongue yet, Pops.”
Finn bends down behind me. His face finding its place once again between my ass cheeks again. I am propped up on the bench. One leg bent and resting on the bench. The other steadying me in place and allowing Finn to have easy access into my wet sweaty hole. I feel Finn part the walls of my ass. And his tongue dive back inside to my soft tender folds like a jackhammer. My cock, hard, as it ever is once he resumes slathering me with his spittle.
“Go all the way in, son. Get Henry ready for that big nine-incher between your legs.”
Finn does not answer. The boy knows how to use his nine inches just like Phineas knows how to use his nine. He usually does not respond to his father once he delves into my wares. He lets his dad keep on with his talking. Letting him believe he is in control. But Finn and I let him think what he does. We know what the other wants. And both are more than happy to do what the other wants.
“Your cock likes his tongue. Doesn’t it, Henry?” Phineas asks.
My cock has not let off from its leaking. Even though I have just dumped one load. The cushion underneath me is soaking up my excess like a sponge as it has done in days past. I do not answer him, but I am enjoying Finn’s tongue as it dives deeper into my hole.
Phineas likes to watch his son fuck. And watching Finn and I go at like a pair of wild animals was something he has really enjoyed but it was not the only time he has watched his son unload his cum-full balls inside of another man. Phineas had watched Finn fuck a boy by the name of Hal out in the back pasture, the same place where he had first caught his son jacking off his cock. Hal was the son of another classmate of Phineas and mine from back in the day when we were all in high school.
Hal’s father, Thom, and Phineas had jacked off in the same place where their sons were heavily involved in their loud fuck session. Phineas had raised a real tiger of a man who was not afraid to fuck whenever that notion struck him. And Phineas liked to see his son basking in all masculine glory.
Just like he is now with me.
“Son, I think your cock wants to be inside ‘Uncle’ Henry’s hole.” Phineas says. His own cock seeming to be at the point of bursting as he continues with his feverous stroking.
“Okay. Pops.” Finn says. Finn winks at me. He was waiting to see how long his dad would take before he wanted him to fuck me. It was not long. Finn always likes playing this little game with his dad.
“Take it slow. Finn.” Phineas says. “Ease in really slow I want to see your nine-inches disappear into his ass.”
Finn does not answer. He knows his Pops likes to see him begin. His dad’s cock seems to get harder when he first starts at his fucking. Finn knew he had been watched when he fucked his baseball teammate, Hal. Finn also knew that their dads had also fooled around in the past, too. Hal said his dad had mentioned it. I had told him too. I have told him a lot about his dad. And he was not surprised.
“Hey, Finn take it slow. Like your dad has said, I want to feel your cock pierce me.” I tell him as I turn and look into his bight green eyes.
“Whatever you want, Henry.” Finn answers me.
His hardness pokes at my spit-lubed hole. He teases me with the throbbing pulse of his cockhead. I can feel him as he nudges into my hairy-holed crevice like a snake about to strike.
“That’s it, son.” It is Phineas, he has walked up next to his son and has put his arm on his son’s shoulder. Guiding him by being closer to the action going on between us.
I can see Phineas’ cock pointing out from his heavily blonde-haired thighs, an older version of his reddish-blonde haired son’s cock.
Finn slides in slowly. One inch of his cock at a time. I hear myself sighing as his cock disappears deeper in my hole. Inch, by glorious inch. The swell of his cockhead crown bursting through the tightened seal of my ass.
“Don’t tense up, Henry.” Phineas says. “Don’t tense. Relax your ass, so you can take my son’s cock.”
I do not answer him. I have had his son’s cock in my hole for a very long time. And each time it is more glorious than the last. When Finn turned 18-years-old, he was finally able to fuck me. We had planned on it years before it would happen. We were only waiting for the day when he became a legal so we could do it. And we did it for days. And days. And days after he turned eighteen.
Phineas now has his hand on the curve of his son’s firm ass, directing him with a gentle but forceful push of his strength.
“That’s it, son.” Phineas compliments. “Let your cock go all the way in.”
While Finn gently slides his cock in, I am clutching it, as I massage it with my inner ass-muscles. This gets a many sigh out of me. And a loud moan out of Finn.
“He’s squeezing you, isn’t he son.” Phineas asks.
Finn does not give his father a direct answer besides the obvious sighs and moans pouring out of his mouth as I devour his cock within my hole is his answer.
“Now you can fuck him like a real man, does. Fuck that man’s hole hard and fast!” Phineas says. And his son does.
Finn pulls out and then rams himself, forcefully, back into my much anticipated and stretched depths. His speed gets faster and faster, as he finds the rhythm to batter my hole with his youthful vigor. Soon the wet sound of his fucking fills the alcove created by the many trees and the azaleas.
Phineas’ hand has not left the firm round buttock of his 19-year-old son. It seems like both are fucking me, together, not just Finn.
“That’s it! That’s it! Tear his hole up, son! Tear it up and show Henry who is boss!” Phineas’ voice has gotten more forceful while at the same time his cock has reddened to the point of sheer horror. But Phineas’ free hand does not touch his enflamed cock while his other seems to soothe and tenderly caress his son sweating backside. At times, Phineas’ provides more thrusting power for his son as the boy’s cock plunges deeper and deeper into my ass provided by his father’s strength.
Finn is awash in the sexually-generated sweat from his frantic plunges.
“Ease up, son.” Phineas says. “You don’t want to tire yourself out. You must last. Fucking should not be rushed.”
Finn is heaving somewhat but he does not withdraw his cock. He has slowed down a bit but still steadily ramming me with his 9-inch-thick helmeted dagger.
“Let daddy take a turn on Henry’s tight little hole.” Phineas says.
Finn pulls out. And the emptiness I feel is short-lived before I feel the Phineas’ familiar veined cock. That is how the father, and the son are different. Perhaps it is age that has made Phineas’ cock so vessel-laden. When he was younger his cock it was not like it is now. I feel all those veins as Phineas’ cock replaces that of his son’s as it begins its descent into my well-manipulated hole.
“Fuck him, Pops! Put that veiny cock of yours deep inside him. I got’em ready for you.” Finn says as he makes his way around to be in front of me and orders me to do his bidding. “Clean my cock! Clean your ass from my tool!”
I take his wet cock into my mouth and taste myself on his sweltering man-tool.
Phineas’ cock ripples through my ass.
“Damn right you got’em ready for me.” Phineas says. “And you did a right fine job, son.”
“You taught me well, Pops.” Finn says as he fucks my face with his cock. He plunges into my mouth with a power that rivals his fathers who fucks my hole.
“I agree with you, Henry. He did not need to shave his hole like you wanted him too, son. It is fine just the way it is. I do remember when he did not have this hairy hole. When I was fucking him back in high school when there was not any hair in his crack. But I like it the way it is now.” Phineas says as he continues with his powerful thrust.
As Phineas rams his cock in my hole he carries on a regular conversation with his son. The two can do that and still hit me hard with their bare cocks.
“Son. I gotta an idea.” Phineas says.
“Yeah, Pops, what is it?” Finn says as he pulls his cock from my mouth.
“We have never DP’d Henry, before. You up for a try at it, son?” Phineas says as he yanks his cock from my clutching hole. My inside react swiftly from the vacuum of his hasty retreat as a loud sigh crosses my lips at the sudden emptiness of my ass.
“If your game, Pops. I am.” Finn says. “I most certainly am.”
Neither asks me if I want to do it. It would be of no mind to me anyway. I am at their disposal to do whatever they want.
“Henry. Clean up my tool.” Phineas says as he wags his hard cock before me like a dog would do its tail.
“You think that bench can hold the three of us, dad?” Finn says.
“I am sure it can. We built it to be sturdy, son.” His father answers.
Each of them stands before the other. Father admiring son. And the son returning the favor.
Both are proud. Their cocks are at the hardest I have ever seen them be in a long time. My tongue slathers up Phineas’ cock. I am washing away my own essence from his pulsing piece of man-meat. Getting it ready to re-enter my hole once again.
I have never been double-fucked by the pair of them. It was what I longed for, for so many years.
“You ready, Henry?” Finn asks. I can see on his face he really wants to do this.
“Yeah.” I say. “I am.”
“You want to be on the bench or to plunge into him from standing up, Pops?” Finn asks.
“I’ll lay down on the bench and let your ‘Uncle’ Henry climb on top of my cock and then you can poke that hard monster in too.” Phineas says.
I do not say anything. I would do whatever either one of them has told me to do.
“It should be quite a sight.” Phineas laments.
“It should be.” Finn says. “Our two cocks ripping his hole to pieces.”
Phineas reclines on the bench. His cock reaching for the heavens and weeping tears of leaking pre-cum from his wee pee-eye.
“Damn! Pops, you are so fucking hard!” Finn says as he admires his father’s hardness.
“So are you son. So are you.” Phineas says.
I grunt and moan but eventually catch myself towering over Phineas’ upward rod. I lower myself onto his monster. I swallow him like a beast that my hole has become.
Finn stands and watches me. He strokes his cock as I devour all his father’s cock. He is matching his Pop’s steel-like hardness.
“My turn.” Finn says.
I face Phineas. My cock crammed in the tight space between our combined stomach’s. Our hairs intermingling like they belong.
I move up and down on Phineas’ cock like I am drilling for crude oil with my actions. But Phineas’ cock seems to be dislodging as I row on him like I am in a sport.
Finn eases up and attempts to slide his cock into me along with his fathers. But things are not working out in this position. Finn tries once again. But the movement is awkward as both cocks fight for entry into my rather tight hole.
“Hey Pops.” Finn says.
“Yeah, son.” Phineas says.
“This position does not seem to be cuttin’ it.” The disappointed son says. He hated to tell his dad this was not going to work as planned.
“I noticed that, son.” Phineas says.
“I have an idea.” Finn interjects.
“What is it?” Phineas says, reluctantly. “Son.”
“We get down here on the concrete.” Finn says. “And we smoke-stack Henry.”
“Smoke-stack? What do you mean by smoke-stack?” Phineas asks, puzzled by his son’s choice of words.
“Its still DP-ing, but I think you’d like it. I saw it in a gay porno, once. A coupla of times, actually.” Finn says with a bit of jolly in his voice having one-upped his ole man, but he quickly lets that realization smolder in his thoughts. “He can impale himself on our cocks, at the same time.”
“You’ll have to tell me what I need to do.” Phineas says. “I trust you. I know you have probably seen this more than I have ever.”
Phineas is right about that; the boy has done more than his ole Pops ever has. Henry thinks as he listens to the two men discuss their next move. He has gotten used to this type of communication between them. But he knows something will be worked out. When either one is determined to do something, they manage to make it happen. No matter the temporary obstacle.
Henry climbs down off the bench. Off Phineas’ cock. His cock, like theirs, are at full attention from their midsections. All three are feverously horned-up.
“Okay, Pops lay down here on the concrete.” Finn says. “Wait. Let me get the cushion off the bench for us to put our asses on.”
Finn lays out the long-cushioned pad that sits atop the bench. He is trying to make it as soft a spot as possible, they have fucked on the concrete before and it was not enjoyable, it was the reason for the construction of the poolside bench.
“We can’t forget this. It said we must lube up our cocks extra heavy. You are gonna hafta slide down us like we are a pole.” Finn explains while he smiles at Henry. “Impale yourself on our cock. Both of our cocks.”
“I can do that.” Henry proclaims with an obvious ring of glee in his expectant voice.
Phineas lays down. And Finn lays down opposite of him. Father and son can look across and into the other eyes. Their feet and legs touching. This is their first ever position where they were directly across from each other.
“Slide towards me, Pops.” Finn says. “Yeah. Like that. That’s it.”
Phineas’ and Finn’s legs are intertwined. Like a fleshy pretzel of skin, hair, and manhood wrapped in an anticipated bundle. Their cocks within scant inches from the other man.
Phineas’ and Finn’s cocks are touching. When both are next to each other at their maximum hardness, Finn seems to be ever so slightly longer. Not much. But his rosy-red cockhead points more skyward towards the heavens. Phineas is sure to have noticed this difference, but he says nothing. It is his son, so he is still proud of his offspring’s endowments. This is the closest he has ever been to his son’s cock. And it seems to fuel his own excitement. He can go cock-to-cock with his 19-year-old son.
“I wish I had a camera or my phone so I could get a picture of this.” Henry says.
“You know you cannot do that.” Phineas says. “People would not understand.”
Henry knew that but the thought of capturing any of these three’s many activities on film or on tape had crossed his mind so many…many times.
“You get the lube, Henry.” Phineas says. “This is gonna be quite a bit to take up that little ass of yours; drown our cocks with the lube but I know you can do it. You can take us up that sweet ass of yours.”
“I know I can do it too.” Henry says. “I know I can.”
“I know you can too.” Finn says. “Pops, I can feel your heart beating through your cock. You really are hard. Firm. Damn it!”
Finn grabs his cock and his fathers, together, and gives the pair a hearty stroke with his tightly clasped hand. Both men sigh at the strength of his grip locked on their cocks.
“Your grip is good son. But it is not going to match the tightness of your boyfriend’s sweet little hole.” Phineas adds.
“I hope he is tighter, Pops.” Finn says. “C’mere, Henry. It is time.”
Henry leans down and kisses Finn hotly on the mouth. He digs in with his tongue into his boyfriend’s mouth. He is so overwhelmed with passion and excitement. Henry is salivating so much as to what he knows is coming, he is having a difficult time keeping back his excitement as it is building at the realization of what is about to transpire. What is about to happen.
“I am ready.” Henry says.
“We are ready.” Finn and Phineas say, in unprovoked unison, without any thought exchanged between the two. The two are psychically linked is what Henry has always sworn to himself. Now they are physically linked as well, it seems. Their cocks melded almost into a singular powerful appendage.
“Stand over us.” Finn says. “Yeah, like that.”
Each man can look up into the hairy crevice of Henry’s ass.
“That is such a sweet hole.” Phineas says.
Henry smiles at his lifelong friend. Henry can see that Finn has smeared the pair of upright cocks with gobs of the lube.
“Lower yourself honey.” Finn says.
Henry breaks out in a sweat from the anticipation. He lowers himself more. He hovers over the two-cock towers of flesh.
“That’s it, honey.” Finn says.
Henry can feel both cocks as he sits down atop them for a brief second. He lets gravity take over. And the force of the earth pulls him downward onto the melded fleshy spears.
“Oh! Oh!” escapes from Henry’s lips as the two cockheads break through his puckered hole.
“Oh fuck!” Phineas sighs as he sees his cock disappear into Henry’s depths. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck!”
Henry is having to support himself with his arms stretched out behind him on the concrete. While he lowers himself, his cock gets harder and harder and points to the heavens like the two he is slowly taking deep inside himself. Drops of his juice continue to pour out from him as his ass devours the cocks of the father and the son melded duo.
“You are doin’ good babe.” Finn says, lovingly. “You feel so fucking good. Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Pops, I can feel your cock!”
“I can feel you too, son. I can feel you too.” Phineas says in-between inaudible sighs and moans from the three men.
Henry goes lower. Soon he rests on the combined nest of fur of both Finn and Phineas.
He is so full. The fullest he has ever been in his entire life. He sits for a second, but it feels like time itself has halted. Each cock in his hole has swelled as he grips them in the tight grasp of his muscled hole. He can feel Phineas’ veiny cock and Finn’s tender tip of his cock as it nudges slightly higher in his hole than his fathers.
He begins to rise, ever so slowly.
All three are moaning and echoing a chorus of, “Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” among the three. It seems to be the only words that they all can muster as they all are racked with pangs of prolonged ecstasy.
Henry continues with his lifting and rising. The sensations of the many internal and prolonged pleasures rocketing throughout him. His tender and soft insides are being stretched by the two thick and steel-like 9-inch-long cock plunging into his dark accommodating hole.
Henry goes down again. And again. And again. Up and down. Up and down. Working the muscles of his delicate posterior around the two massive cocks filling his very depths. He is being controlled by his most innate animal impulses.
“OH FUCK! OH FUCK! OH FUCK! OH FUCK!” Henry’s thrust up and down having unleashed his pent-up seed. He spews forth like a cum-fountain from his extended cock.
At that same moment, he can feel the two cocks within him expand to epic proportions. And soon he is drenched in his interior with both the seed of father and the son.
The two men’s words are indecipherable and barely more than animalistic grunts and groans as they empty their balls.
All are awash in a bath of their own sweaty-salty juices. And then it is over. Each man shaking as their body recovers. Henry stands. Finn and Phineas stands.
“That nut was much better than any of those ole hot boiled peanuts you two boys sell out there at the stand.” I tell Finn, and his dad, Phineas.
I can feel the cum from them still sloshing about in my stretched hole. Father and son. Joined together.
We all walk to the edge of the pool and dive in after we had dislodged ourselves from our entwinement. The water from the pool splashing back onto the concrete skirt soaking it down. I swim to Finn, wrap my legs tightly around my young lover and squeeze him tight with them. My cock rubbing hard against his shaved muscular chest.
“Thank you for letting your dad fuck me, Finn.” I say as I give him another deep kiss on his lips.
“Just remember, Henry, you are mine.” Finn says. “I waited for you for the longest of time. And I ain’t letting you go. You are what I have wanted in a man since I was in my teens. And you are who I want.”
“I know. I know.” I tell him. “But your dad needed some release. He needed us.”
“I know. It was fun DP-ing that sweet hole of yours with Pops. That was a first for all of us.” Finn says. “And I am glad you were there for him. That we were there for him. I would not mind doing that again with Pops.”
“Me either.” I say. “Having your two cocks inside me like that stretched me further than I ever have been stretched before. I can still feel you two.”
“And you liked that didn’t you?” Finn says, knowing my answer without even having to ask the question.
“What are you two whispering about over there.” Phineas says from where he is treading water on the opposite side of the pool from us.
I smile at Phineas as he pries once again into his son and my business. But it is something that I have become quite accustomed. It is as if I am in a relationship with him too.
“It’s nothing Pops.” Finn answers his dad. “Just lovers a-talking about their business.”
“Okay.” Phineas answers.
It is then that the world shifts. Where it seemed like time had frozen for a bit, the watch starts up again. A sound breaking through the gentle breeze and the birdsongs from the oaks, pines, and dogwoods.
“You hear that?” I tell Phineas and Finn as we wade about in the pool having closed the gap in the distance between us as we go about washing the cum and sweat from our frantic sexual play. I heard the gravel crunch in the driveway as it was being crushed under some heavy weight.
“It’s a car.” Phineas says. While at the same time, a horn is being honked from that direction of the driveway breaking the stillness of the moment as we wait to hear anything. Anyone. “You two best get yourselves inside. Take a shower. Get yourselves presentable and cleaned up.”
“What about you, Pops?” Finn says.
“Don’t worry ‘bout me, son. You two best get yourselves inside. Hurry. Hurry up, now.” Phineas says.
“Hey, Phiney. You around? Phiney?” It is a woman’s voice. “Hey Phiney! Honey, you around? You about?”
“Is that the girl from the diner?” I ask as I get out of the pool in a rush. And look in the direction of Phineas, who is still in the pool. The water is up to his neck concealing the rest of his naked body underneath.
“Yeah. It’s her. Hurry now, get y’all’s clothes and hurry up.” Phineas says as he wades to the edge of the pool, his head the only thing you can see were you looking for it.
“I am at the pool!” Phineas shouts out, his deep baritone voice sounding like music to my ears. But it always has. But it is not for me he is calling like he did earlier.
Finn and I gather up our clothes in a frantic rush. It will not take her but minutes to get back here to the pool. Finn gets his dirty discarded jeans and his flip-flops. All he had on. And I get my shorts, tee shirt and my boat shoes as we bolt like two madmen for the back screen-door of the house and the enclosed porch where we can hide and be unseen.
“It seems your dad is about to have himself some more fun.” I say to Finn as I look over at him. “He needs to get himself another load off. I bet. It should be that girl from the diner.”
I look to Finn’s naked body and comment, “And your cock is getting hard again too. I see.”
“And so are we.” Finn says as he flings his clothes onto the floor of the porch as he walks towards me with his hard-on waving like a flag of surrender before him.
My hole is ready for more cock. More of Finn’s cock. It would be nice to be filled with them both, again, but Finn’s cock has always felt good. I want some more of his man-cream deep inside me.