Scent Pig Part 4 -- Video Star
(Part of the Scent Pig Series, an original work of fiction. Copying, duplication and/or distribution are not allowed without the permission of the author)
This story is a work of fiction. If you are offended by explicit male-to-male, hot, sweaty, funky, hairy, incestuous, nasty sex, maybe you should browse elsewhere. If not, cum on in.
I slowed to make the turn off the blacktop on to the dirt road. My mind was wandering; I had too many things going on at once. My brother's call the previous evening couldn't have come at a better time. My wife, the eternal nagging bitch, had been screaming at me for a month to get the garage cleaned out. She was planning on a new car soon, and wanted to have room for it. Never mind that the garage housed all my stuff: sports equipment, an abbreviated set of weights, and the darkroom. I spent a lot of time out there, anything to get away from the screeching. So I'd cleaned the garage. It took all day on Sunday, and I had to really bust ass to get it done. I had gone to the fridge for a beer when I saw the note. Gone to Vegas with the girls, see you on Friday
'Guess the garage was too far to walk to talk to me in person,' I fumed. When am I going to just dump her ass? The phone rang as I searched the fridge in vain for a brew.
"Hello!" I barked.
"Whoa Mike! What's got you so hot?"
I recognized the deep bass chuckle of my brother, and immediately launched into the story. When I was through I fell silent, the anger gone.
"Sounds like you could use a break, little brother. Chip and I are up at the cabin, how about joining us for a couple of days?" he asked.
"I don't know, man, I've got a shit load of stuff to do here, and.." my voice trailed off.
"Bullshit! Nothing that can't wait, unless you're planning a party while the wife's away. Chip brought his Coach along so they could continue his workouts. I could use some company!" he argued.
It would be great to get away, out of the heat. What the fuck!
"Okay, you got a deal man! Need me to bring anything up?" I asked. He had given me a small but detailed list.
As I neared the secluded cabin, I wondered idly about the things he wanted. Luckily, I had found everything I needed quickly and hopped in the truck at first light. Now, as the morning sun warmed the cab of the truck, I realized that I should have taken a shower before I headed out. I still had the sticky, sweaty pits from the work in the garage the previous day, and I could feel the warm sweat where my balls stuck against my dick and thighs in my briefs. As I recalled, the briefs had been worn at least a week, the bitchwife didn't do laundry either. As I shifted in the seat, I could feel the hairy cheeks, and then the slimy crack of my ass confirm that I was a sweaty fuckin' mess!
The cabin looked quiet. No one out front for a welcoming committee. The guys were probably still out cold. I lifted my stuff out of the bed of the truck and walked around back, climbed up to the deck and carefully looked inside. I was surprised to see the mattress off the bed, just a corner of it and someone's foot visible in front of the couch. Must have fallen asleep in front of the tube. I though to myself. I quietly reached for the doorknob
"Morning!"
The big voice right behind me made me jump. I spun around, ready to tear my brother a new one for scaring me. But it wasn't my brother.
"Sorry 'bout that. I didn't mean to startle you!" the big man grinned and extended his hand. "You must be Mike."
I grasp his big paw and looked him in the eye.
"Yeah. Damn buddy, you got my heart pumping!" I said. It wasn't until I noticed the amused expression on his face that I realized the double meaning. "I mean, well...shit! What a morning!"
He smiled broadly. I realized I was still gripping his hand and I dropped it like it was on fire. Actually, I could feel the impression of his mitt even after it was gone. I could also feel my cock firming up in my briefs. Before I could analyze that, he motioned inside the cabin.
"They're still out. Kind of a late night last night. I'm Chip's coach, by the way," he said. I was waiting for a name, but he just turned and walked to the railing of the deck, looking out and stretching his massive arms over his head. "Going to be a scorcher again today."
"Looks that way. I need to get out of these jeans and into some shorts. Be right back," I stated as I picked up the bags I had dropped and headed for the door.
"Let 'em sleep for a bit longer. Trust me, they need it!" the Coach said as he glanced over a broad shoulder at me. "And don't bother with the shorts. Yesterday was so damn hot we all agreed to jocks or briefs for the duration!"
I glanced down, involuntarily checking out his story. The waistband of an obviously well cured jockstrap hung just above the top of his asscrack. I could see the hairs sprouting from the slit as my eyes wondered further down. Each leg strap framed a big, hard asscheek. He turned, and I saw the grimy pouch of the strap. 'Hard to believe that thing was ever white.' I thought. Even a casual scan showed how crusty and sweat stained it was. I found myself staring, and quickly looked up. Those eyes of his were staring too, at me. I flushed, feeling like a kid getting caught by the Coach. Again, he saved me from thinking too much.
"You game?"
"What the hell. As long as there's no women around to tell us how 'crude' we are!" I laughed.
"Not likely! You must be married, too. They can be a pain in the ass, and all for a little quick pussy once a month!" he joked.
"Don't get me started man!" I said, relaxing. This guy was cool; he understood the wife thing.
I tugged the end of my shirt out of the waist of my jeans and pulled it over my head. I could smell the grime and the sharp tang of hard work. Then, with my arms up I got a whiff of my pits. Damn, I did need a shower. I was struggling to get the shirt off when it was yanked out of my hands.
"Don't hurt yourself!"
I looked directly at the Coach, who had moved closer to me and popped the shirt off. A new set of smells started to mix with my familiar ones, and I discovered I wasn't the only one who could use a bath.
"Sorry for the stink, I didn't get a chance to shower before I drove up." I said, sitting on one of the deck chairs to get my work boots off.
"No problem. I'm a high school Coach, I smell sweat all day long!"
"I guess you must be immune by now," I replied.
"I got used to it. At least I can tell which one of my guys has really worked out, and which one hasn't," he offered.
"Really? That's one teaching tool you don't hear about!" I was a bit shocked to find myself in a deep discussion about sweat with this guy. It gave me a strange vibe, wary yet somehow familiar and comfortable.
I finally got my boots off and peeled off the damp socks underneath. Standing, I dropped my jeans to the deck and kicked them off. I sat back down and let out a sigh.
"There. Now I can relax!" I said.
Coach squatted down so that he could be eye level with me. He leaned back against one of the poles that supported the roof of the deck. His large, hairy legs spread, the pouch of his jock hanging at the junction. He reached down and scratched just behind his balls. I couldn't look away. I followed his hand up and watched him. I didn't really see that did I? I think I saw him sniff his fingers. I wondered how ripe they must be, and then caught myself. Where the hell had that come from?
Saved by a flush. The toilet announced that someone was awake inside, and we both looked up toward the door.
"Hey little brother! How long have you been here?" my brother questioned. "Long enough to learn the dress code, eh?" he chuckled.
"I filled him in." Coach offered. I still didn't know his name.
"Good man! Give me a hug Mikey!" he said, throwing his arms open. I stood and bear hugged him. Okay, nobody is showering around here I thought as I rubbed my sweaty torso against his. "How was the drive? Did you manage to get everything?"
"No problem, man. Got everything you wanted; it's in those bags over there." I indicated the two large duffels and the camera case near the door. "Now I just need a shower and some grub, and I'll be happy!"
"The food's no problem, but the shower's on the fritz. I guess you figured that out," my big brother said, raising an arm and sniffing.
"Naw, I though you were a bunch of sweat freaks!" I laughed, pushing him away. I noticed neither man laughed, but they did exchange a glare. "Hey, guys! Just kidding!"
"Some things never change!" my brother said as he sat in the chair next to mine. "I'll get Chip up in a minute and get his butt cooking. He got quite a workout last night."
"Shit Coach, you worked him all day and all night?" I asked. I guess this guy was really serious.
"And that was only day one!" the Coach replied. I noticed a gleam in his eye that made my balls buzz. What the hell?
"I need some coffee, so let's start day two!" With that, my brother leaped up and entered the cabin. The next sound I heard was a loud slap, followed by a muffled yelp. If I didn't know better, I would swear that my nephew had just gotten a hard blast across the ass. That's one way to wake him up.
"Let me help you with your gear" the Coach said, hefting all 3 bags with one hand.
"After you," he said with a sweep of his hand.
As I walked into the cabin, I brushed against him in the narrow doorway. The jock covered head of his dick slid across my thigh, and a narrow but distinguished line of moisture was left in its wake.
"Sorry Mike, just the dog I am, always leaking," he said in a whisper, directly in my ear as I passed. He patted my ass and followed me inside.
"What's on tap for today men?" I asked. Breakfast was done and Chip was doing the dishes. Coach was in the can.
"How about we catch some rays? Coach probably has a strict schedule for Chip. We can sit on the deck and reminisce. And I can help you unpack," my big brother suggested.
"Yeah, about all that stuff. What's with the..." I was stopped from completing the sentence by the big, calloused hand that clamped over my mouth.
"We can get to that in a bit," he said, glancing at his son in the kitchen. "We've got all week."
At that moment, Coach exited the bathroom, looking at the two of us, and then glancing at Chip.
"All right, boy, let's go!" he barked. Chip jumped and headed for the door.
"See you later Dad. You too Uncle Mike!" he said.
"Yeah, see you two later!" growled Coach, the wink both a warning and a promise.
Two hours later I woke up on one of the deck chairs. We had talked and laughed, then the sun did its thing on us, and we both fell asleep. The first thing I was aware of was the solid sheen of sweat that covered my body. The second was my dick, rock hard and pushing the damp fabric of my briefs out at an angle. I glanced over and saw my brother had the same problem. I hadn't seen his cock hard, or any other guys, since that summer we came up here and filmed some wild shit! The memory, one I had almost forgotten, made my bone jump and pump out a glob of precum. I was reaching down to give myself a rub when I sensed I was being watched.
"Hi Uncle Mike. Did you have a good nap?" Chip asked. He was standing below the deck, his head and chest visible. Coach must have worked him pretty hard. His muscles were pumped and glowing with moisture. Even his lips looked like they had a workout, puffy and red, the boy's tongue darted out to cover them with spit.
"Yeah. How was your workout?" I inquired, sitting up to stretch.
"Great! I think I'm really getting into it!" he said. "Ready for a beer? I'm getting one for Coach."
"Sure, I'm on vacation. Hey bro, want a brew?" I turned to my left and slapped his chest with my hand.
"Been waiting for an hour! Hell yeah I want a brew!" he said. He had been awake for a while. Wonder if he'd seen me scoping his dick. "Just laying here sweatin' like a pig, dying of thirst while you slept!"
With that he reached over and squeezed my thigh. His had was high enough on my leg to catch the bottom of my short with his pinky as he pulled away. The momentary opening was quickly filled with the head of my dick, looking for expansion room. I felt his fingernail graze the rim of the head. I shuddered.
"Damn Mikey, bet that dream wasn't about your wife!" he laughed, pulling his hand away and letting the leg band of the short trap the swollen head of my cock.
"All right boys, no roughhousing before I get a beer!" Coach had approached us during the exchange, and his hand lingered as he readjusted his package. It seemed bigger then before. This guy must have a weight for every muscle, cause he sure looked like he worked out all of them!
Chip came back out with the beers.
"Can I have one too, Dad?" he asked. I noticed he looked at both his father and Coach, as though addressing both as Dad.
"Why not. What do you think Coach?" my brother said.
"Drink up, boy!" Coach agreed.
"Do you want me to help you unpack, Uncle Mike?" Chip asked.
Bring the camera case out here, son." his dad answered for me.
When Chip returned, he placed the case at his Dad's feet and sat on the deck. I reached over and started to unpack the camcorder. A new, digital model, it still reminded me of the times Chip's dad and I had spent here. I realized my dick was still hard, and the memory caused a small flood of lube to slide down my thigh. When I had all the cords in the right places, I put the camera on its tripod. I didn't know what his Dad had in mind, but the camera seemed to fascinate and scare Chip at the same time.
"Let's go, boy. You still have one more rotation before you can play!" Coach ordered. They disappeared around the side of the cabin.
"I gotta take a piss," my brother said, rising from his chair. "Be right back."
"Me too!" I said as I followed him inside.
Naturally, we both went into the bathroom and stood at the toilet. I noticed his cock was pretty stiff, the remnants of a good dream and the need to pee. I got flowing first, and the sound sent him off, too. As the stream subsided, his cock jerked and splashed hot piss on mine. The sensation was electric, all my senses perked up.
"Watch it! You man be older, but you still can't piss on me!" I protested.
His response was to grab his dick and point it at my hairy balls. He quickly soaked them, holding me with his other hand around my waist so I couldn't pull away. To my embarrassment, I could feel my dick getting rock hard again. I felt like I was on the verge of cuming.
"I guess I'll have to show you who's boss again, Pig." The word hung in the air, expectantly. He hadn't called me that in years, but the reaction he got was as if it had been that morning. My eyes closed, I moaned, and I reached for my cock. He slapped my hand away just before I made contact. He moved even closer to me. I could feel him, smell him.
"How much do you remember, Mikey? Do you remember the first time I caught you with my dirty briefs shoved up your nose? Do you remember the time I made you kneel with your nose buried in my hairy ass for hours? Do you remember the taste of my tongue after it had been up your hot hole? Do you remember not showering for 2 weeks, just the two of us up here? And when I finally let you suck my hairy pits, you came without touching yourself? Do you, Mikey?"
The words were burning into me. They pulled at me, drawing me closer to the flame. I did remember. I remembered never doing it again. With anyone. Not since I was 18. And now, I remember why it was so hard to stop. So hard not to seek out a nasty moment or two.
Then it hit me. The scent inside the cabin. I had noticied it as soon as I came in, and had been trying to place it ever since. Although we all reeked, this smell rose over that, teasing my nose with something I couldn't quite remember. But now I did. Now I remember the smell of a room where men have been fucking. Was the Coach plowing Chip while my borther, Chip's Dad, watched?
"Come over here Pig!" he hissed. He beckoned me to the window.
What I saw confirmed my assumption. Chip, flat on his back on the weight bench, was struggling to complete a rep. Coach stood over him, or rather squatted. Chip's nose was brushing the hairy crack of the big man's ass. The Coach's balls were planted firmly down the boy's throat.
"I fucked him last night, Mike. My own son! And he loved it. He's as big a sex pig as his old man....or you, Mike"
I looked over at my brother. A stud, for sure, but just then I saw something I hadn't before. A need, a longing to say something that he couldn't. He turned back to the scene outside. Chip racked the weights and the Coach pulled his swollen balls from the boy's mouth, allowing him to take a huge gulp of air. When I looked at my brother again, I thought I understood. It was making sense now. The stuff he wanted me to bring, the way he had questioned me, the hunger on his face. There was only one way to make sure I was right.
I moved closer, placing my palm on the rise of his ass. He was sweating, and jumped a little when he felt my hand. Moving closer still, I pressed my body to his, nuzzling his neck and chewing on his ear lobe. He moaned.
"I think I know what you need. I think you've been waiting too long big bro. You are ready, aren't you?" I whispered in his ear.
Without waiting for a reply, I slid my hand lower. The tips of my fingers lightly moved through the jungle of matted hair. I moved my hand around, prying the globes of his ass apart with one finger. The moist heat of his body enveloped my finger. I could feel the sweat, the pure man seeping from his pores. Lifting my hand, I turned his head so he was eye to eye with me. I ran my finger under his nose, watching the twitch of his nostril as he caught the scent. He moaned again, and I knew I had him.
"You may be a Dad, but what you really need is to be a Pig. And I can give you just what you need, boy." I said evenly.
"Yes, Sir!" he responded at once.
"Good. Now lets go out to the mattress. I want to show you what I brought." With that, he turned and went directly to the floor. I grabbed the other bags and tossed them next to him, then sat on the couch. Grabbing the removte, I flicked on the T.V., then pressed the play button for the VCR. Suddenly, my ass was full frame, and my brother's cock was slamming in and out of my streched hole. I pressed stop.
Just then, Coach and Chip walked in. The Coach and I shared a knowing glance. He knew as well. Coach joined me on the couch, while Chip grabbed some brews and settled down next to his Dad. He was unaware of the change that had taken place.
"Okay, time to unpack." I said. "Dump that bag out on the mattress Chip."
Leaning over, I whispered "Hope you want to continue to teach the boy some things, Pig" in my brother's ear.
A few lengths of rope. Extra jocks. A large wooden paddle, a leather crop and a smaller ball flogger. And finally, a bag within the bag, which I quickly grabbed.
"What do you think, boy?" Coach asked. Chip looked up, smiling, but Coach had been talking to his Dad.
"Chip, you and I are going to do some filming outside. Let's go!" I said, tossing the small bag to Coach.
An hour later, I couldn't wait any longer. I headed back inside. Grabbing Chip by the back of the neck, I held him still.
"Now listen to me boy. When you open that door, you are going to see some changes. Just go with it, and you'll do fine. If you want to stick close to me, great. Just remember, your Dad is a man who has needs, just like you do. You needed to have his fat prick up your ass. Well, now you get to see something else." I opened the door.
The couch had been moved to the farthest wall, creating a large open area. Coach sat in the middle, legs spread wide, hairy chest gleeming with sweat. Between his legs, our new Pig lay face down. Coach's dick was lodged deep in his throat.
"Good, you made it. Come over here, boy!" Coach said. Chip walked to him, although in a daze, he still knew when to obey orders. Coach used one huge arm to reach out and pull the boys mouth down to his own. He kissed him deeply, the spit sliding down their respective chins.
"Be a good boy and get down and lick your Dad's ass. It's plenty ripe, and I know how you love a nice ripe hole." Coach grinned. He pushed the boy down. Chip hesitated, but a look from Coach was all it took. He moved his face over his fathers butt.
"Sniff it boy! You gotta know what a man's ass smells like if you want to fuck around with it." I prodded. He inhaled, his dick stiff and bouncing in the air. A growl came from his throat, and he dove in. Can't say as I blame him, really. I knew how hot that ass was, my face had been trapped there enough. Coach and I let him go for it.
His Dad, on the other hand, tried to pull away, yanking his head up off the throbbing dick. The Coach had anticipated this move, and used a massive forearm to press him forcfully back down.
"I see we're going to have to start at the beginning. No problem!" I said. I pulled Chip out of his Dad's ass, bringing his face close to mine. I could smell the ass; the sweaty, funky hole was ripe all right. My dick throbbed. I shoved my tongue down Chips throat, enjoying the tang.
"Chip, there can only be one boy here right now. You have a choice. You can go outside and wait til we get a few things straight with your Dad, or you can stay and help. Well?" I demanded.
"Um, I want to stay." he said in a meek voice.
"Good. Looks like we have a new pig to play with, Coach."
Coach pulled the pig's head off his cock with a pop. He and I stood as if on cue. Coach made short work with the rope. Arms bound behind his back, the pig was pulled up on his knees. Grabbing one of the kitchen chairs, I sat Chip on it. Coach moved the pig in front of him, told him to open wide, and slammed his head down over his son's hard cock. Without hands to stop his fall, he continued until his nose was buried in the rank bush, gagging. Coach had both of the pigs legs strapped to a chair leg in a minute, spreading open the firm hairy cheeks of the bottom's ass. Coach handed the wooden paddle to Chip.
"You get the honor's, Chip. Make me proud!"
Chip hesitated only a second. The paddled flashed through the air, and the loud report seemed to echo in the room. The outline of the paddle, in red, sprang to life on the ass. After ten strokes, Chip stopped.
"I gotta take a leak. Must be the beer." Chip looked at me. He knew, he just wanted to be reassured. I nodded.
A moment later, the pig really started to struggle. He was chocking.
"Give him a little slack, Chip!" Coach instructed.
Pulling the pig 2 inched off his dick, Chip looked down and smiled.
"Drink up, piggy!"
No matter how fast he swallowed, the pig was no match for the flow of the young studs hot piss. I seeped out of his mouth, dripping on Chip, the chair, and down his own hairy chest, adding to the matt of grime.
"And now, dessert!" Chip bucked once then held his shaft burried in the hot, wet throat. His balls drew up, and the muscle between his balls and ass conracted hard. He shot a huge load, pulling off a little so that the pig could get a taste of his hot young jizz. As he peeked and came down off the high of the orgasm, Chip relaxed. The slurping never stopped. The pig kept the spent dick in his mouth as long as possible.
"One last thing before we take a break. Here you go, Chip." I said as I handed him the black buttplug. He immediately grabbed it, placing the tip against the hole of the pig.
He shoved. Hard. The plug disappeared in the hair, then the hole streched over the wide base, crashing down the other side, clenching.
"Who wants a beer?" Chip said.