Ninety-Six

When I was a young teen my mom got arrested and sent to prison—prostitution, possession, etc and so forth.  It wasn’t a surprise, at least to me; I’d been expecting a bust for at least a year.  What was surprising was that instead of sending me into much-dreaded foster care DHR found and convinced  my mom’s older brother to assume my custody.  I’d never met Uncle Gil nor had Mom spoken much of him, but I knew she’d despised him, that he had in fact been the direct cause of her flight from home, so I’d built him up in my mind as some kind of redneck ogre, but the man who appeared in the doorway of the police station waiting room was something of a letdown and at the same time a relief.  Uncle Gil looked ordinary.  Average mid-thirties white trash.  Straggly blond hair, patchy beard scruff two shades darker and tinted almost ginger.  Middling height, body soft but powerful too. 

“You look just like her,” he said suddenly, his voice low, growly, not contemptuous but flat.  I was well aware I resembled my mother but I made no reply, as Uncle Gil didn’t act like he required one.  His muddy brown eyes studied me, reading me like the back of a cereal box.  After a minute he continued, “If’n I take you in, you’ll need to make yourself useful.  Ain’t go no bitch at home and I work my ass off all fuckin’ day to take care of my family, so I expect to be took care of in kind.  Understand?  Damn, boy, cat got your tongue?  Speak up!”

“I understand,” I managed to push out, but I wasn’t sure I understood at all.  Or, even worse, that I did.  Being the only child of a drug addict whore tends to make you suspicious of everybody.

Uncle Gil nodded once, short and sharp.  “Good.  Get your shit and let’s go.”  At the sight of my pitiful bag of clothing, he sighed.  “Fuck, looks like a trip to Walmart next paycheck, hope you got enough to do ya ‘til then.”

Outside, he hurried me through the dull and drizzly dusk to a battered pickup truck, where he indicated for me to stow my bag in the metal toolbox stretched across the bed.  I jumped in and we took off for “home”, wherever that might be; I didn’t ask and he didn’t offer.  We rode mostly in silence but he let a few details slip here and there.  He was divorced, his “bitch-cunt-slut“ ex having run off with a “(black person)” a couple years ago, and “good riddance too, she was a lousy fuck.”  A painter by trade, he worked ten-to-twelve-hour days, weather permitting, so he expected to come home to a clean trailer and dinner on the table every single fucking evening, or there’d be hell for dessert.  Luckily I wouldn’t have to do everything myself, as I’d be splitting the duties with my cousin Ollie, at fourteen a year older than me.  “He’ll be glad to have the assist, too, poor boy’s been run ragged lately.”  Uncle Gil snickered as if there were something funny about being bogged down under chores.  “You’ll be sleepin’ with Ollie too.”  At my start, “Ain’t got but two bedrooms and two beds and I ain’t puttin’ up with no spooge stains on my couch cushions.  Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about,” he added at my second start.

I gulped and nodded.  I did know what he was talking about: my favorite hobby.  Which now looked to be severely curtailed because of having to share a bed with a cousin I’d never met.  I hoped the trailer had a good water heater for long showers.

Uncle Gil again fell into silence, and I watched the road and listened to the wipers screeping across the windshield.  We’d been riding about an hour, the city long fallen behind us, when he broke the quiet with a question I’d never expected.

“Your ma ever trick ya out?”  His tone matter-of-fact, asking because he wanted to know, not because he cared.

“What?  No!”

“But she would’ve, wouldn’t she?”  Daring me to lie.

I nodded, reluctantly.  “Probably.”  Whenever the subject came up, usually proposed by her current dealer/pimp, she always refused.  But I’d sensed she was weakening.

Uncle Gill grunted.  Hitting his blinker, he exited the freeway, turning down a long and twisty road that pretty quickly led us out into the middle of nowhere.  “Are we almost there?” I asked as Uncle Gil slowed again to swing into a rutted gravel lane, jouncing me hard in my seat.

“Nah, trailer’s a half hour on.  Wanna get something straight with ya first.”  Once out of sight of the main road, he switched off the truck.  “Ever suck a dick?”  I could barely see his face in the shadows, but I sensed his seriousness.

“Uh, no,” I replied, dreading.

“Well, there’s a first time for everythin’.”

My heart sank.  My vague suspicions were right.

“Or,” Uncle Gil continued, “you can grab your shit and hit the gravel.  Freeway’s five miles back, you can probably catch a ride.  They may not even make you suck ‘em off.  ‘Least by blowing me you’re guaranteed three hots and a cot.”

I hesitated, then unenthusiastically gave in.  “Smart boy,” Uncle Gil commented as I scooted closer.  Unzipping his jeans, he fished out his cock, already half-hard.  Like the rest of him, it appeared average, about the same size as my own, and uncircumcised.  “Get on it, boy,” Uncle Gil growled, grabbing my head and shoving me down.  I automatically opened my mouth and he pushed himself inside, the rubbery flesh hitting the back of my throat, and I gagged.  “Aw, get over it,” he grunted.  “Cover your teeth, breathe around me, oh yeah, like that.  You suck ‘bout as bad your ma at your age, but you’ll get better.”  He might’ve been complaining about my performance, he still rocked up hard, and I couldn’t do anything but go along for the ride anyhow.  Twisting his fist in my hair, he pushed me down while at the same time hunching upwards, basically holding me still and fucking my face; luckily the steering wheel and our positions kept him from choking me to death, though more than once he burned my nose in denim while his glans popped into my throat, enough to make me gag and almost vomit.  Suddenly he groaned, his cock throbbing, and unloaded into my mouth, the first few spurts straight down my gullet, the rest creaming out over my tongue.  The taste was salty and dry but not as disgusting as I’d feared, and, given no other choice, I spluttered but swallowed every drop.

“Not terrible,” Uncle Gil remarked as he put himself away, “but not great either.  You’ll get better, Ollie can teach ya.”

“Am I,” wiping at my mouth and scooting back to my side of the truck, “am I gonna have to blow him too?”

Uncle Gil shrugged and started the engine.  “Dunno.  What you and Ollie do is ‘twixt y’all.  Long as I got somewheres to stick my dick when I wanna stick it, I don’t care.”

We rode the rest of way in silence, me pondering both what had just happened and what was likely to happen in the future.  I was still at the stage where any kind of sex was alluring, though in this case I felt a vague shame at my hesitant curiosity.  I definitely liked girls, but sometimes in the depths of a good wank I’d admit to myself I found other boys appealing as well, and I’d imagined all sorts of situations with them, including giving head, but now I found myself seriously underwhelmed; the entire encounter on my uncle’s cock had probably taken less than five minutes, not enough time for me to form an opinion.  Well, I thought gloomily, still tasting cum in my mouth, looks like I’ll have the time to form one now.  Along with an opinion on other only vaguely imagined acts, because I had the sinking feeling oral was only the tip of the penis.

At long last we pulled up in front of my new shelter, a tiny mobile home at the end of a long and narrow gravel lane, sitting off to itself amidst the unkempt trees and undergrowth of a seemingly endless forest.  Stepping inside, I found myself in a combo living room/dining room/kitchen just big enough to be called cozy instead of cramped.  A teenage boy I presumed to be my cousin stood at the stove, stirring something in a skillet, and he looked over at our entrance.  Uncle Gil introduced us in the barest of terms, barely giving us time to exchange greetings before he pointed to a doorway near the tv set.  “In there’s where you’ll be sleepin’.  Go put your bag up then come help Ollie with supper.”  The bedroom was small, most of the floor taken up by a double bed, with a scarred dresser and chest of drawers fighting for the rest.  A few posters lined the walls, sports teams or bikini-clad women, but otherwise the room was barren and anonymous.

“Gimme a beer,” Uncle Gil ordered from his chair in front of the tv.  I found cans in the fridge and took him one, which he accepted with a grunt, then returned to the kitchen.  Ollie didn’t say much, just indicated where I’d find the plates and silver to set the table.  He was a little taller and maybe thirty pounds heavier than me, hair chopped into a ragged mullet a shade or two blonder than his father and with a stocky but graceful way of moving.  Dinner turned out to be tastier than I’d expected, and Ollie glowed when I praised his cooking while his father just shoveled the food down and grunted occasionally, usually at whatever was on tv.  Taking my compliment as a sign of tentative amity, Ollie made small talk, telling me about the school we’d be attending come fall and promising to show me around the nearby town and his favorite places in the woods, the whole while delicately avoiding the subject of why I was here; he sounded like a decent guy but he seemed lonely too, as if he didn’t have many friends.  Having never had many myself, due to my mother’s erratic and disgraceful lifestyle, I immediately resolved to be a good one to Ollie.

After dinner while Uncle Gil drank beer, smoked pot and grunted at the tv, Ollie and I cleaned the kitchen.  When we were done my cousin surprised me by pulling out an ancient chess set then surprised me further by matching me in terms of skill, and we spent a pleasant couple of hours winning and losing in equal and cheerful amounts.  At ten-thirty, as the news was going off, Uncle Gil cleared his throat and said, “Bedtime, boys.”  As we bundled the game away, he snickered and said, “I’ll be there in a minute to tuck y’all in.”

Over the course of the evening I’d gradually forgotten what had happened on the way here, but the oiliness in my uncle’s voice slammed the truth back into me.  Uncle Gil and maybe Ollie were going to molest me, in my mouth and maybe in my butt too, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.  I glanced at my cousin, the liking I’d begun to develop for him wavering.  He seemed a gentle, good-natured soul, but I admittedly didn’t know him well; maybe he really was as twisted as his father and wouldn’t hesitate to use me himself.  Hell, Uncle Gil had even said Ollie would train me in cocksucking.  He must’ve noticed my distrustful gaze, for after we took turns in the small toilet and we were alone in our room, he murmured almost into my ear, “Don’t be scared, I ain’t gonna hurt ya.  I promise.”

I believed him, his obvious sincerity soothing me down some.  “Thanks for saying so.  Do you mind if I sleep in my boxers?  I don’t have any pajamas.”

Ollie waited until he pulled his shirt over his head before he answered.  “No clothes in bed.”  His chest and belly were fleshy, a thin line of blond hair trailing down his ribcage with another, darker trail under his bellybutton.  “We sleep in the buff.  Dad’s rules.”  As if to emphasize his point, he pushed his jeans off, revealing a tangle of dark blond hair over an uncircumcised dick and smooth, low-hanging balls.  I’d caught a few glimpses of nude men leaving my mother’s bedroom, I’d never before beheld any naked boys my own age, much less ones close enough to touch.

“What?” I demanded when I could speak again.  “Why?”

Ollie shrugged, his penis jiggling with the movement.  “Dad says it saves on wear and tear on our drawers.”

“Bet that’s not the only reason,” I muttered.

Ollie scratched his balls and gave me the barest hint of a sardonic grin.  “No, reckon it ain’t.”  Seeing I still hadn’t started stripping, Ollie reached past me to turn off the light, giving me the gift of shadows, then turned his back.  “Which side you want?”  Giving me the gift of tact.

“I don’t care.”  I’d never slept in the same bed with anyone else in my entire life, and I didn’t imagine a specific side would make the experience any less uncomfortable.  Ollie clambered across the mattress, snatches of moonlight shining in through the windows flashing and dimming on the smooth chunks of his bare ass.  Gritting my teeth, I slipped out of my clothes and under the sheet, trying not to flinch when my knee knocked against his naked flank.  He turned on his side to face me, so close I smelled the spearmint from his toothpaste.  We lay there in silence for a minute before I blurted out, “Are you mad I’m here?”

“Huh?”  Ollie sounded genuinely shocked.  “Why would I be mad?”

“Well, you know, being forced to share your room and your bed with a cousin you don’t know from Adam.”

He considered.  “Nah.  I was surprised, but it’s not like you had anywhere else to go.  I was kinda worried you’d be a dickhead, but you seem cool enough.”

“You seem cool too,” I said, and he smiled.  Deciding to risk it, I said, “Not so sure about your dad, though.”

Ollie lost the smile. “So you know what’s gonna happen.”  More a statement than a question.

“I got a good idea, yeah.”

He was quiet for a long minute, the sound of his breathing barely audible over the tv in the living room outside our door.

“It ain’t so bad,” Ollie said at last.  “Pick up the trailer, put dinner on the table, keep our grades up and make him happy, the rest is golden, we can do whatever.”

“How hard is it,” I hesitated, “making him happy?”

“It ain’t so bad,” Ollie repeated.  “He won’t hurt ya much, long as you do what he says, and most of the time he cums quick.  Days he can’t work are dicey but sometimes he’ll make it good, even let you cum too if you’ve pleased him.”  Hearing the details of Ollie’s abuse jarred me, but he didn’t sound distressed.  Returning to our earlier subject, “But naw, I ain’t mad you’re here.  Feel kinda bad for ya, he’s gonna fuck whether you like it or no, but I’m glad too.  Not just because you’ll help out with the chores and with making him happy, but because—”  Ollie floundered, and I understood what he meant.  Because he was lonely.

I gave him the gift of tact back by not forcing him to say it.  “I understand,” I assured him.  “I can’t say I’m exactly glad to be here, in this situation, and I feel bad for you too because of what you’ve already endured, but I’m relieved to not be alone.”

He smiled again and started to say something in return, but at that moment the tv shut off, dragging us back to our reality.  “Here we go,” Ollie muttered under his breath, and at almost the same moment the bedroom door was flung open and Uncle Gil stepped in, naked from the waist down, his uncut cock already swelling in its nest of pure ginger curls, his balls already drawing up in anticipation.  Stopping at the side of the bed, he said, “Get up here and blow, Ollie.”  As my cousin sat up Uncle Gil directed me, “You get over here and watch, see the proper way to suck a cock.”

I obediently scooted to the edge of mattress and watched as Ollie opened his mouth. Uncle Gil shoved his now mostly erect penis inside, burying my cousin’s nose in his pubes, and though Ollie grunted he didn’t object, even started sliding up down without being instructed.  Uncle Gil kept one hand on the boy’s head, using the barest of touches of to guide him, occasionally ramming himself all the way down Ollie’s throat.  My cousin didn’t gag once.  “See, boy?  Now that’s how you take a dick, all the way the fuckin’ root.”  I watched closely, my dismay giving way to begrudging admiration for Ollie’s composure, for taking what he was given, slurping on his father’s cock as if it were an everyday occurrence, which it probably was.  He kept his own hands in his lap, not attempting to push Uncle Gil away, and I noticed he was playing with his own hard dick, though I couldn’t see much due to the shadows.  I was hard too; like I said, I was at the age where any sex was alluring, and despite my distaste for being coerced I was grudgingly beginning to anticipate performing.

Uncle Gil suddenly stopped, pulling himself away so quick Ollie chased him for a sec before subsiding.  “On your knees.”  My cousin scrambled around and squatted on the edge of the bed, his big and smooth ass cheeks protruding, open.  “Reach in that there drawer and get the lube,” Uncle Gil directed me.  “Pour some down Ollie’s crack.”  I squeezed a thin stream over my cousin’s asshole, noting how it twitched and spasmed at the attention.  “Now my cock.”  Uncle Gil spread the oil up and down his shaft so it glistened.  Stepping closer, he grabbed one of Ollie’s cheeks, spreading him wide, and, stepping closer, he laid the thick head of his cock against the hole, probed a couple times before pushing.  Ollie gasped, his fingers bunching the sheets, but he didn’t try to run away or fight back.  Uncle Gil grunted and punched his hips forward, shoving himself inside Ollie in one long glide.  I winced, expecting a scream, but my cousin only whined as his dad seated himself.  The whine turned to a groan when Uncle Gil twisted his hips, burying himself fully, then began slamming back and forth, pulling almost all the way out before ramming back home.  Ollie whimpered, his eyes closed, but he moved not a muscle as Uncle Gil fucked rough, slapping in and out in a steadily accelerating pace.  He’d apparently forgotten about me, as he had his eyes closed too, savoring the violation.  His hips were moving so fast they were almost a blur, and I watched, fascinated, as his shiny prick rutted into my cousin, sometimes pulling all the way out so Ollie’s hole quivered and gaped before being filled again, shaft sinking clear to the pubes in one stroke, shattering my cousin’s whine into a couple of heartfelt yips before kicking back in with another whine, higher pitched and needy.  Ollie sounded like he was in excruciating pain but in heaven at the same time, as if pleasure and suffering duked it out, first one winning, then the other.  Despite my trepidation I couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to be pounded down into the ground like this or, better yet, to be the doing the pounding, and my dick throbbed in my fist.  Uncle Gil grabbed a hank of Ollie’s mullet and yanked, pulling his shoulders off the bed and grinding his ass against his father’s crotch, and Ollie wailed.  “Thassit, son, thassit, milk my cock, milk my, oh fuck, gonna spill now, gonna, gonna . . .”  Uncle Gil’s voice throttled into incoherent grunting, and he thrust one final time and sighed, long and deep and dirty, his body vibrating as he emptied his balls into his son’s guts.

And, abruptly, Uncle Gil was done.  He pulled out, shiny prick already beginning to soften but still drooling, my cousin farting out bubbles of cum.  “Tomorrow it’s your turn,” Uncle Gil informed me, and my asshole clenched, causing my stiffie to shake.  Noticing, my uncle snickered as I lifted my leg to obstruct his view.  “Yeah, figgered as much.  You’re wantin’ it already, ain’t ya?  Wantin’ some of my cock.  It’s a good cock, ain’t it, Ollie?”

“It’s, it’s a great cock, Dad,” my cousin puffed, still spread-legged on the edge of the bed.  “The best.”

Uncle Gil laughed again, uncaring if Ollie were being truthful or placating; I had a hard time telling the difference myself.  “Reckon you’ll find out tomorrow.  Bet your ass is a whole lot tighter than Ollie’s.”  My cousin didn’t react to the insult, just lay there and panted.  “Eh, we’ll get it rounded out.  Now, Ollie, teach your cousin how I like my dick sucked, but don’t even think about fuckin’ him or I’ll beat both your asses.  I mean it, boys, that cherry is mine.”  Without another word he staggered from the room, his tight apple buttcheeks clenching with every step, and slammed the door behind him.

We sat in silence for a minute, my cousin breathing into the sheets and me watching more little dribbles of Uncle’s Gil’s cum trickling from his abused hole, so shiny and stretched in the dimness.  “Are you okay, Ollie?”

“Did you blow him on the way here?” he asked without looking at me.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Thought so.  He took longer than he usually does, long enough for it to start feeling good.”  At last he straightened and I was amazed to see his dick hard, a long string of pre leaking from his piss-slit to dribble into a pool on the sheet.  Clambering up beside me, he rolled onto his back, his erection wobbling.  He grabbed hold, giving it a good couple strokes, his foreskin bunching over then pulling free of his plump glans, his taut balls bouncing with every tug.  “He wanted me to train ya, so I guess get over here and let’s see what you can do.  I ain’t never been blowed before, but I’ve sucked on his enough and I reckon I’ll figure out what feels good quick enough.”

I didn’t hesitate; something told me I was safe with my cousin, that I could play and learn and not worry about him judging me or forcing me to do what I didn’t want to do.  I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his stiffness, the first I’d ever touched besides my own—I had, after all, only sucked Uncle Gil, not held him in my hand.  Ollie hissed and bucked up into my frig, wordlessly pleading for me to put my mouth on him.  I fully intended to do so, but first I asked, “Have you ever had sex with anybody but your dad?”

Ollie shook his head.  “Naw.  You?”

“Nope.”  I studied his erection in my fist; about the same length and thickness as Uncle Gil, but with a bump and small crook just under the head, his thick blond pubes tickling my fingers with every stroke.  “But I think I’m gonna like having sex with you.”

He smiled.  “Same.”  He reached over and grabbed hold, surprising me, squeezing my shaft, massaging, and I groaned.  “You got a nice dick.  Bigger than me and my dad, but not enough to be scary.”

“You got a nice one too, Ollie.”  I pulled the skin up his shaft, examining his hood, and a puddle of pre welled up in the puckering.  On impulse I leaned in and slurped it up, making Ollie hiss; the taste was dry and salty, like Uncle Gil’s, but with a sweetness I wasn’t sure was there only because I liked my cousin.  Then I pulled the skin back, exposing the purple head, another drop of pre welling in the slit, so I lapped it up too and laved the head with my tongue, licking it like a lollipop.  I climbed to my knees, bending over him so he might continue jacking my rock hard dick, milking me like a cow and sending sizzles of electricity through me, almost but not quite enough to make me cum.

“Suck me, oh suck me!”  Begging, not demanding.  Ovaling my lips, I sucked his entire glans inside.  “Watch the, cover your, oh yeah, like that, like that.”  Ollie put his hand on my head, not to shove me down as his dad had done but in encouragement, and I shivered under his touch.  Gaining confidence, I took in another couple inches, savoring the taste, exploring with my tongue, getting a feel for my work as I hadn’t been able to with Uncle Gil.  The fit was awkward, and my jaws felt stretched, but I wasn’t discouraged, coming to enjoy both the action and the way Ollie groaned and stroked my scalp.  “Go deeper,” he urged breathlessly.  “Fuck, I can’t believe how good this feels, no wonder he likes it!”  Emboldened by the praise, I sucked more of him in, so strong and fast the head popped into my throat, and I gagged.  I came off in a hurry and sat up on my heels, wiping the snot and tears from my face, trying to catch my breath.

“That felt good, cuz,” Ollie murmured, the term warm on his lips, an endearment like ‘honey’ or ‘sweetheart’.  But his tone turned regretful as he continued, “My dad’ll want better though, he’ll expect you to deep throat him and don’t care if it chokes you.  Here, lemme show you.”  Before I quite grasped what he was doing he leaned over and swallowed, one slick, moist movement.  I gawped at him, amazed to see his nose pressing into my sparse pubes, to feel his moist heat around my shaft, and after a single taut and timeless moment, I moaned and fucking exploded.  No other word for it.  I’d been too stressed and worried the last couple days to even imagine jerking off, and all the missed orgasms plus the evening’s unbearable sexual tension pulsed up and out and into intensity, a surge of pleasure so ripe I felt like fermented fruit spilling intoxication all around me.  The jolt crested and I shot into my cousin’s throat, one long and nerve-shattering spasm of cum I’m amazed didn’t blow Ollie’s head clean off.  He grunted in surprise but didn’t choke as I would’ve done, instead swallowing each spurt, rubbing my undershaft with his tongue, coaxing out more jizz.  When at last he’d sucked me dry, I hissed at the oversensitivity and pushed him off then, boneless, collapsed onto the mattress.  He leaned up beside me, propping himself on his elbow.  “Well,” my cousin drawled, “that was unexpected.”  He licked his lips, the slow movement obscene, and the sparse moonlight illuminated a secret I hadn’t seen before: a thin moustache, so blond as to be almost invisible against his fair skin.  “Tasty though.”

“Better than your dad’s?” I teased, then tensed, wondering if my words sounded cruel.

Maybe they didn’t, for he took them at face value.  “Yeah, much better.  Sweeter.”

I warmed at the compliment.  “Your mouth sure was good.  I’ve imagined blowjobs but never in a million years would I have believed how fantastic it might feel.”

“Yeah, I here ya there, cuz.”  Again, almost caressing the word.  He stroked my dick a few times, idly rubbing his thumb across the head.  “You’re still hard.  Can you go again?”

“I think so.”  Actually, I was positive I could coax another orgasm out; I regularly went three and sometimes even four times in a single wank session, although I had a feeling two would be my limit tonight.  Another explosion like the one just experienced might knock me dead.

“Cool.  Tell ya what, turn around so we can do each other at the same time.  They call that a ninety-six.”

He sounded so certain that I was for a second taken aback, then I realized he was joking, and I giggled.  “I think that’s what they call it too.”  I positioned myself as he’d requested, our crotches to each other’s faces, and grabbed hold of his cock, so hot and hard in my hand.  Unable to resist, I leaned in and took a long swipe up underside, stopping to nibble at his foreskin.

Ollie shivered.  “There’s no hurry,” he assured me as I gave his shaft another lick.  “I ain’t cummed since this morning in the shower so I could probably go right now but I wanna edge it out for awhile.  So take your time, get used to it, maybe even see if you can throat me.  It’ll make it easier on ya tomorrow if you can, trust me.  I personally don’t care, do what you want and I’m sure I’ll love it, but don’t use your hands with him, to push him off or control his pumping, he’ll just tie ‘em behind your back if you try.”

Strangely enough, I wasn’t worried about tomorrow.  I was enjoying myself here and now, feeling closer to my cousin than I’d ever felt to anyone before, and I vowed to swallow his dick whole, come hell or high water, not because of what Uncle Gil might expect but because I wanted to satisfy Ollie.  So I leaned over and opened my mouth, taking him inside, enjoying the way he groaned at my heat.  He lay still for a moment, letting me work him while wanking me slow and gentle, then at last he sighed and returned the favor.  As he’d said, there was no hurry, so we took our time, exploring.  Since he’d advised against using my hand on his dick I instead used it to stroke through his thick tangle of pubes, to tickle across his scrotum and cup his balls, and he did the same to me.  I licked under his hood, nibbled at the spot where foreskin met undershaft, and he writhed beside me, groaning around my dick, taking me deep so my sparse pubes brushed his translucent mustache.  I went as far down as I could go, his knob knocking at my uvula and, noticing only an inch or so of shaft remained outside my lips, I consciously relaxed my throat so his glans popped inside.  Stifling the urge to gag, I swallowed until my nose touched his balls, the entirety of his dick in my mouth.

Ollie groaned, loud, his cock twitching and threatening to overcome my gag resistance.  Unable to hold it anymore, I came up off him and coughed, pleased with myself.

“Way to go, cuz, you did it!” he exclaimed, pleased with me too.  “It felt great.  Perfect.”

“It feels perfect when you do it to me too.”

He grinned at me and swallowed.  I throated him a few more times, and soon the move felt natural, almost effortless.  Tension built between us, the pleasure flowing from mouth to cock to mouth to cock, round and round.  I stroked his balls, feeling them draw up beneath my fingers, and he did the same, his touch light and ticklish.  I tensed when he moved backwards, stroking over my taint and up into my crack, then trembled when he tapped at my back door.  Expecting him to shove inside, I squeezed my sphincter shut, the motion both voluntary and involuntary all at once, but he didn’t push his luck, choosing instead to flicker and tease, sometimes pressing just far enough inside to part my opening and give the barest hint of the feeling of penetration.  Trusting him, I left him to it and reached behind his own balls; realizing my intention, Ollie spread his legs wider, allowing me to approach.  His cheeks were smooth but a thin line of hair was dusted up and down his crack, as much a secret as his mustache, if more intimate.  Contrary to my own rosebud, clenched so only the merest fingertip might intrude, Ollie’s was relaxed, still slick with the leftover lube and dribbles of his dad’s cum even now farting moisture on my skin.  Far from being repelled by the sliminess, I was instead fascinated, aroused at the blatant souvenir of actual sex.  I slid the tip of my index finger inside and like a tsunami tide he seemed to suck me in, drawing me first past one knuckle, then the other, the tunnel both tight and limber, hugging my flesh close.  Ollie hunched up and clenched around me as I bottomed out, a copious spurt of pre drizzling into my milking mouth.  Encouraged by his obvious pleasure, I drew most of the way out and plunged back in, fingering him in the same tempo I used to suckle on his weeping dick.  On my fourth or fifth probe I knuckled against a small and spongy mass in the top of his tunnel, and he groaned around me before suddenly twisting off and yanking his cock from my mouth in one movement.  He came off me too, and we lay there panting, our heads on each other’s thigh.

“Sorry if I hurt you,” I mumbled.

Ollie laughed.  “You didn’t hurt me, don’t worry.  Your mouth and finger felt so good I almost cummed.”

“Isn’t that the point?” I asked, mildly disappointed he hadn’t shot in my mouth; as sweet as his pre tasted, I couldn’t wait to sample the nectar.

He laughed again.  “Yeah, but I wanted to edge it out a little bit longer.  You don’t mind, do you?  We can stop if you’re tired and I’ll go the bathroom to finish myself.”

I shook my head firmly.  “I don’t mind, and I’m willing to go as long as you want.  I’m having fun.”

“Yeah, me too.”  Lazily wanking on each other, both of us still stiff as concrete poles.

After a few minutes I inquired, “You ready to get back to our ninety-six?”  Our first in-joke, and he winked at me in approval.

“We can if you wanna, but I thought maybe you’d like to try something else?”  My mind immediately flashed back to his finger tapping against my butthole.  “Naw, not that.  I’d love to fuck you, don’t get me wrong, and I’d go slow and make sure you enjoyed it,” unlike my first time with my dad, he didn’t have to say, “but he’d get mad if I did, or even if I fingered you.  He wasn’t kidding about whipping our asses if we didn’t save your cherry for him.  So I guess I’ll have to show you how it feels from the other side.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can fuck me instead, he won’t care about that.  Do you wanna?”

What do you think my answer was?  “Yeah.  I wanna.”

“Cool.  I bet your dick’ll feel nice inside my ass, and I can cum while you’re pumping.  That’s the best.”

“How do you want to do this?  Bent over the edge of your bed like before?”

“Naw.  I wanna do it face to face.”  He rolled onto his back, spreading his legs, and I hurriedly slipped between them.  “This is my favorite position but he hardly ever does it.  Says he don’t want my spooge all over him.”  Lifting his knees, Ollie spread his thighs, revealing his hole, still gaped and shiny from both his dad’s fuck and my finger.

I scooched in closer.  “What did we do with the lube?”

“Dunno, probably on the floor or something.  Don’t worry about it, there’s still enough of both the grease and his cum up in me, we should be fine.  Just spit on me down there before you put your dick in.”  Leaning in, I spilled a healthy wad of saliva dead center of his quivering hole.  “Perfect.”  Dick in hand, I shuffled in closer and poked, my aim off so the tip of my dick barely cracked his opening before popping free.  “Hang on, cuz.”  Resting his ankles against my upper arms, he reached underneath and unerringly guided me into position.  “Now push.”  I did, and moaned as my glans breached him, sinking just far enough inside for my mushroom rim to pop through his asslips.  He hissed underneath me so, not wanting to hurt him, I froze.  “No, don’t stop, keep going.”  I slid further into him, his walls parting and hugging me close.  It felt amazing, just as good as his mouth, only hotter, drier.  His fingers slipped off my cock one by one as I inched deeper into his grip until, finally, I was all the way inside, my sparse pubes pressing into his skin.  “Hold still a sec,” Ollie requested, his tone breathless and strained.  “You’re definitely bigger than my dad.”

“Do you need me to stop?”

“Naw.  Just needed a minute to adjust.  You’re cool now, you can start moving.  Please start moving.”  I backed off about a quarter inch, pushed back inside, gently, worried about causing him discomfort.  Another small stroke.  Ollie laughed, not in a cruel way but amused, squeezing my dick with each chuckle.  “You can go harder.  I promise you won’t break me.”  To illustrate his point, he grabbed my flank, pushing me back and yanking me forward.  Again.  Getting the idea, I moved under my own power, withdrawing most of the way and gliding back in.  Ollie moaned, his free hand wrapping around his cock.  “Perfect, cuz, just, just like that.”  I lengthened my stroke, added some oomph to my speed.  Ollie moaned again, his face going redder and redder, and gripped my flank hard, not to slow me down but to give himself something to hold onto.  “Fuck me, cuz, please fuck me!”  Spreading his thighs wider, hunching up into my thrusts, squealing as I dove deeper, stroked harder, fucked rougher, because I knew he could take it, could take whatever I chose to give him.  If I’d been surprised to find out how good an actual blowjob felt, I was abso-fucking-lutely astounded at the reality of a welcoming tunnel.  My dick squelched in and out of him, to my ears as loud and erotic as Ollie’s strangled, breathless yips, as loud as the headboard knocking against the wall.  I wondered if Uncle Gil heard us in his bedroom at the other end of the trailer, dismissed the thought as unnecessary; if we were keeping him awake then that was too damn bad.

“I, I’m gonna cum soon, cuz,” Ollie grunted, his hand on his cock whipping as fast or faster than my relentlessly pinging hips.

“Me, me too,” I panted.  “If I hadn’t shot in your mouth earlier it’d already be over.”

“I really like your dick in me.  Do you like my butt?”

“I love it!”

“What about this?”  I wasn’t sure what he was asking about first but then holy shit!  His tunnel started rippling around me, his walls squeezing and twisting my dick.  “Do you like this?”

My answer was wordless, because I could do nothing but howl as his tight ass milked me straight into orgasm overload.  I pumped into him haphazardly as I started spewing.  “Go on, cuz, fill me up with your cum!  Shoot it!” he grunted before toppling into his own nut, whipping himself wildly as the first spurt jetted out, shooting across his torso to splat the corner of his mouth.  More streams quickly followed, painting stripes across his fleshy chest and belly as I pushed as deep as I could, spilling the last of my seed into his willing body.  As the intensity faded, we stayed joined for a few seconds, our faces inches away, so close we breathed each other’s breath.  On impulse I leaned in and swiped up the line of cum by his mouth.  “Tasty,” I whispered, using his word from earlier.  His lips twitched, and while I knew we were thinking the same thing, both of us chickened out.  Kissing would be a step too far.  Wouldn’t it?

“You gonna move, cuz?” Ollie asked, not distressed but amused instead.  “Do you plan to sleep in there too?”

I decided to be honest.  “I wish I could.”

He huffed laughter and I gingerly pulled out of him, liking the wet farting sounds he made as I exited—that was my cum dribbling out of his stretched hole.  Mine!  I collapsed beside him and he surprised me by grabbing my hand, holding it to his chest so I might feel his slowly dropping heartbeat.

“That was the best ever,” he whispered, his lips barely moving.  “Dad never made me shoot so hard.”

The words pleased me, even made me a bit smug.   “I liked it too.  I never imagined sex would be so good and, and I’m glad you were my first time.”  I felt my cheeks redden at the admission, hoped he wouldn’t be able to tell in the dimness of our bedroom.

“I’m glad I was your first too,” my cousin said.  “And I’m hoping you liked it enough to do it again sometime.”

“Whenever you want,” I promised, then paused.  “Just not right now.  I don’t think I could get it up with a crane.”

“Yeah, me either.”  He laughed and then groaned.  “Shit, I feel like I can’t move but if I don’t there’ll be a huge wet spot on the sheets.  Let’s go clean up.”  He stood up, another wet fart splurting out at the movement, and pulled me to my feet.  The trailer was darkened, Uncle Gil having retired, and Ollie stayed behind me and kept a hand on my shoulder to guide me around the bulky furniture.  Once in the small bathroom he plopped down onto the toilet.  “Washcloths are under the sink.”

I grabbed one, marveling.  Earlier today I’d been horrified at the very notion of sharing a room and a bed with another boy, now I was perfectly comfortable listening to him fart out lube and cum (MY cum) while I washed his innards off my dick.  What a strange day!  He flushed, and while he cleaned his own torso and greasy buttcrack I pissed, long and loud, then waited and watched while he finished up.  Like Uncle Gil, Ollie was an ordinary, average guy, your typical almost-chubby redneck teenager, but at that moment, and to my eyes, my cousin was the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen.

“What?” he asked, turning around and catching my eyes upon him.  “Did I miss some spooge somewhere?”

“No,” I said.  “I was just looking.  You’re hot, cuz.”

His cheeks pinked but he grinned.  “Thanks, cuz.  You’re pretty cute yourself.”  He brushed past me into the hall, his hand grazing mine, and on impulse I grasped it, twined my fingers with his.  He stopped, surprised, but he didn’t shake me off, and after a moment he led me back to our room and bed, walking (slightly bowlegged—I did that!) in front of me, again guiding me around any possible hazards.

“Hey cuz?” he asked after we’d lain there a few minutes.  “Are you asleep?”

“Not yet.  Why?”

He hesitated, and I waited, not hurrying him, as I sensed what he was about to ask was important to him but difficult to express.  “Do you, uh, do you think it’d be gay if we cuddled?”

I couldn’t help it; I giggled.  He tensed beside me, so I hurried to say, “I’m not laughing at you, I just thought that after all we did tonight, cuddling would be the least gay of any of it!”  Seeing the humor, he started giggling too.  “Sure, we can cuddle.  I’d like that.”

“Cool.  C’mere, I’ve always wanted to try something.”  He pulled me close so my leg lay atop his thigh and my arm across his soft belly, my head on his fleshy chest.  “This feels nice,” he said, cradling me against him.

I hummed in agreement, settling in.

“Cuz?”

“Yeah?”

He was quiet so long I’d begun to think he’d fallen asleep, and when at last he spoke I suspected he’d changed what he’d originally been going to say.  “Night.  Sleep well.”

“Night, Ollie.”

No more talking.  I snuggled into his arms, listening to the rain on the trailer roof, the wind blowing through the trees, but it was the rhythmic thumping of Ollie’s heartbeat that followed me down into my dreams.