Southern Nights

By NiftyStoryTeller / NiftyGuy

Published on Apr 20, 2005

Gay

Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of sex between consenting adult males. If you are underage or do not wish to read such materials, or if reading this sort of material is illegal in your jurisdiction, then read no further. If you have any comments for the author, or if you would like links to my other stories, feel free to drop me a line at niftystoryteller@yahoo.com.

"We should probably be getting back soon," he said.

"Mmmm, hmmm," my uncle replied, settling just a hair deeper into the down bedding.

Forrest allowed his hand to slip down and across my uncle's haunch, before wriggling it between muscular thighs that parted with just the slightest resistance. "If we don't leave soon, it'll be dark before we get back."

"Yeah, we just might have to spend another night up here if we're not careful."

"We do that, and my Daddy'll give me the whuppin' of a lifetime, even if I am a grown man, and bigger'n him to boot," Forrest drawled in an ever-so-slightly affected, down-home way that could (and had) charmed the pants off at least one man I knew.

It was true that, on this winter solstice eve, the day before the shortest day of the year, the pale sun was already well past the vertical. And it was also true that the proffered alibis could only be stretched to cover a single night's absence. But it was also true that everyone involved would have given an awful lot for another night hidden away in the pines.

Rolling over in the warm cocoon of the covers, my uncle pressed his body up against his companion's. The cozy warmth was like a nap on a lazy summer afternoon. With each breath, with each rise of my uncle's smoothly muscled chest, I could feel the wiry press of the scattering of still sparse hairs that shadowed Forrest's pectorals. My uncle idly stroked them.

"I wonder if I'll ever grow any chest hair," he murmured. "Mama always tells me that eating my vegetables will do the trick, but it hasn't worked yet."

"I like you nice and smooth, just the way you are."

"You don't think that would make me more of a man, less of a boy?"

Forrest gripped my uncle's erection. "I guarantee you, this doesn't belong to any boy. I've never known a boy that had such a big, beautiful cock. Only a man could have this hanging between his legs." He stroked it a couple of times, spreading the oozing precum. "And I especially like the way it curves off to the side. And I really, really like it when it starts leaking like this."

My uncle squeezed his bedmate's even larger penis and nipped lightly at an earlobe. "Yours is the biggest I've ever seen," he whispered as the rhythm of his heartbeat increased just a bit. "Every time I jack it, I almost can't believe it."

"Well, I can't quite believe you can take it up your butt."

My uncle squeezed their cocks together and flicked his tongue over Forrest's ear. "It hurts at first, but then all I want is to have your dick inside there." Lips, tongues, and teeth met and tangled, and I quivered at the sensation of their erections sawing back and forth over each other. "I liked it last night when you were fucking me with your big prick."

Speaking forbidden words and describing forbidden acts, my uncle's excitement increased. He rolled over on top of Forrest, pinned him to the bed and kicked the covers off. As the two of them pressed their bodies against each other, I longed to insert myself into the freshness, the newness of their discovery of what it was possible for them to do together. In my disembodied state, I was an unseen witness to their sex. The one compensation was the way it brought back the recollection of my feelings, of my physical memory of my first real sexual affair with another man. That relationship had been my graduation from furtive gropings in clandestine spots to whole days spent naked in bed, sharing my body and that of another. I had been about the same age as these two.

Reliving that past, I opened myself up to their experience. Between them, a slow, almost imperceptible, battle for control developed, as Forrest began a campaign to assert himself and claim the higher ground. My uncle resisted a bit at first, but before long he allowed himself to be flipped onto his back, hips straddled by his young lover. Forrest reached down and lightly tugged at my uncle's hard nipples before moving one hand down to their groins, where he squeezed together their ready, willing, and able erections. Slowly and deliberately, he began to stroke them in tandem, from their thick roots to their shiny heads.

"Unnnh, yeah," my uncle groaned as he amplified the resulting friction with tiny thrusting motions of his hips. "You're making me so fucking hot, playing with my cock."

Forrest's breathing was a little ragged. "You like it when I jerk us off together?"

My uncle responded with barely a grunt, rendered speechless by the sensation of taut skin on taut skin. Even after all that had transpired up in the cabin over the previous twenty-four hours, I was startled by the intensity of his lust, which bled across the indistinct boundary that separated us, fueling my own. He hungrily inserted an index finger between his lips, sucked it and coated it with his saliva, before slipping it between their rigid organs, right at that point of maximum sensitivity, where that most delicious flap of skin connects head and shaft. At that moment, vicariously experiencing my uncle's feelings emanating from his circumcised cock, I longed for my own uncut penis and its raw, untamed, primitive power.

My ability to concentrate on my own personal loss faded in the face of almost unbearable sensations generated by my uncle. Back and forth, he alternately used his finger to frig the union of their cocks and then withdrew it to allow direct contact between bare, overheated skin. What had been a scant trickle of precum had grown into a steady flow coursing from flaring piss slits. Each organ was as hard as a table leg and as dark as a plum. Reaching down with his free hand, my uncle grabbed Forrest's hairy balls, tugging at them and massaging them through their hanging sac.

"I know these are full of cum," he growled, "and you're gonna spray it all over me. You're just gonna fucking hose me down, aren't you?"

Chest heaving, Forrest nodded, and my uncle wordlessly reached down with his slippery index finger and wiggled it through the clenching anus he found down below.

"Oh, fuck," Forrest groaned, rearing back a little to impale himself further on the fat digit. "I'm gonna cum."

And cum he did. Geysers of milky white fluid spurted high into the air, spraying my uncle's torso and coursing down the union of their cocks. Through my uncle's finger, I could feel the clenching of the powerful muscles that pulsed deep in Forrest's body and pumped literally millions of sperm into their first and final meeting with the outside world. My uncle and I watched together as our lover's whole body spasmed again and again with the powerful effects of his orgasm. As it faded to an afterglow, he leaned down and took my uncle's distended, coated erection between his lips.

A deep, guttural sound emanated from the pit of our stomach, as we both, my uncle and I, struggled to process what we were feeling and thinking. It was like a million tiny needles were prickling every square inch of our skin, like our widespread arms and legs were stretching to the four corners of the earth, like every cell in our body was being threaded through our groin and turned inside out. The sight of his bobbing head, the slick sound of his lips on our flesh, the feel and the smell of sex, the taste of his cum on his lips, then our cum, then the holy union of all our cum, all these things were present for me in that instant, a moment that first saw the universe expand to contain all the love and lust, all the sweat and spit and cum and tears, that I had ever known, and then saw that same universe recede into the distance, disappearing until it was less than a pinpoint of light on the black velvet counterpane of infinite nothingness.

I was floating, far beyond the boundary of whatever reality I had just known or would know in the future that was in fact my past. I reached out a symbolic hand, hoping to find a welcoming touch, but I had somehow lost track of what direction to turn. I couldn't say whether I was suspended perfectly still or spinning like a top. There was just nothing. Nothing except that barest hint of a tether connecting me to my uncle, who I knew was still in the light. Across the distance of space and time, I could feel him, and he could feel me, and together we found the way I had to go, and I slowly pulled myself back to him. Back to my perch. For how long, I did not know, but I had begun to suspect that it would not be forever.

By the time I returned to the here and now, or there and then, they were already getting dressed, and chattering and laughing, and horsing around like the twenty-year-old men that they were. Watching Forrest through my uncle's eyes, it was uncanny to me how much like Beau he was. The way he moved, the way he smiled, the way he arched his eyebrow, the passion he exuded. Seeing all of this, I was left with the obvious question. Why had he ultimately turned out so different from his grandson? Or was Beau himself going to change? I had no guarantees that he would always be the young man I knew.

I turned these questions over in my mind until they were ready to leave. Standing awkwardly just inside the door, neither wanted to be the one to say goodbye.

"So," my uncle started, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night? Are you coming to that?"

"I don't believe I'd be allowed to miss it. My mama hasn't missed one of your daddy's Christmas parties since the year I was born. And she'll want me to drive her."

Forrest looked off to one side. "I'd give anything to miss it. If you had any sense, you would too."

My uncle threw his arm around his lover's shoulders. "Come on, young man. Buck yourself up! I'll make sure I've got my daddy's old flask in my coat pocket, and you never know, maybe we'll need to go out at some point to fetch some firewood. Just about anything could happen."

"I wish anything could happen," Forrest said softly. "But I know it won't."

And then, under a cold, clear pale blue sky, two cars wound their way down a mountain road, over a highway, onto a country road, and finally reached a fork, where they went their separate ways.

Next: Chapter 15


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