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My Cousin and Uncle Instigated (and Initiated Me)


roguechoirboi

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Author's Note: To comply with the rules of the site and the forum, ages and the timespan have been modified. Enjoy!

I grew up in West Virginia, in a double-wide trailer with a big yard, a creek, and woods.

Ours was a big family. Mom is 17th of 17. That's not a typo. Dad is 3rd of 8. I have tons of first cousins on both sides, many of whom I had crushes on from an early age.

One, in particular, always got me hard and dripping - Michael, as well as his dad (my uncle by marriage), "King." I never found out why, but everyone called him that.

Mom wasn't keen on King. He was a long-haul trucker. He dipped snuff. He cursed. He was loud. He was opinionated. She called him "trailer trash who married well" (she liked my aunt - my dad's sister - well enough, because she went to our little Pentecostal church with us).

Michael was all alpha male, too. He was 3 years older than me, and I had idolized him when he played sports in junior high and high school. He now worked at a junkyard that serviced all the bubba gearheads in our area, including those who competed at the local motor speedway.

Right after I turned 18, Mom, Dad, and my aunt went to a week-long church retreat upstate.

When Michael found out that I'd be free so soon after my 18th birthday, he invited me over to spend the first night they left, which was a Friday.

I loved spending the night with Michael. He had (str8) porn mags. He had all of his old sports gear. He almost always had a pile of dirty laundry, including ripe jockstraps stained with cum, piss, and sweat. And he had this maddening habit of showering and then toweling off with his big, floppy, uncut cock bouncing up and down as he dried his hair for what seemed like just a bit too long, as if he wanted me to stare while his face was covered by the towel - which I did. Whenever he'd catch sight of me from under the towel, he'd smirk and sometimes give his cock a tug or two. It always made me hard, and gave me endless jackoff material.

When I got there that night, Uncle King was in the living room, in a stained wife beater and short-shorts. He was in his recliner with his feet up, drinking a beer and watching an action movie. I could see up the leg of his shorts: he was wearing a stained jockstrap. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck, that was hot.

When I went to put my duffel bag in Michael's room, King told me that the two of them had a big surprise for me, since Mom, Dad, and my aunt were out of town, but I'd have to keep it a secret. The way he grinned as he said it, spitting some dip juice into the red Solo cup beside him, told me it was something that Mom definitely wouldn't approve of. He told me to go get squared away in Michael's room, and for both of us to come out to the garage once I was settled in.

When I got into Michael's room, he gave me this shit-eating grin. "Dude, Dad and I got some righteous weed. We're getting you high as fuck as a late birthday present, Little Buddy." (He'd called me that since I was little. It was his pet nickname for me, but sometimes his teammates or coworkers would call me that as well. I sorta liked it. It kinda stamped me as belonging to Michael in his buddies' minds.)

"Here," he said, handing me a pair of short-shorts and an old jockstrap. (This was the 80s.) "Put those on. Those should fit you. They're old pairs of mine."

It turned me on to be wearing some of his old gear, and I think he could tell that I got a little chubbed up as I tucked myself in to the pouch of the borrowed jock. Even though it was one he'd worn in junior high, the pouch was still loose on me, given the difference in the size of our cocks. The waist and ass-straps fit perfectly, though. He rounded out my workout outfit with an old practice t-shirt with the sides cut out, tossing it to me to put on.

"You ever smoke pot, Little Buddy?"

I shook my head no, mouth suddenly dry. Was this really happening?

"Ain't no thang. Dad and I sneak a bowl or a joint here or there all the time. Mom knows Dad still does it sometimes, but she'd kill me if she knew I did it, so - seriously - mum's the word about what happens tonight, all right?"

I nodded my head.

"Good. Let's go. Dad's probably got the bong packed and ready by now."

I followed Michael outside. Their garage was detached from the house, and always had some sort of project in progress - rebuilding an engine or whatnot. I wasn't very up on stuff like that. I was more bookish, I guess you could say.

No matter what project they had going on in there, they always had the back corner with the free weights and bench press free to use. Michael had taken me in there in the past couple of years to tone me up, although I still wasn't crazy about it. He said it would make me look sexier for the girls. Whatever.

When we got inside, King grinned and told Michael to lock the side door leading into the garage, and to lock the garage door as well.

"Don't want someone catching us. Better safe than sorry!" King explained to me.

Made sense.

King showed me how to use the lighter and how to suck on the bong to take a rip. My first one wasn't very good, since I was all out of breath from the excitement of it all.

"Here," King said, putting one hand on my back and the other on my stomach. "Get control of your breathing, and then you can suck in a really good rip. Show him, Michael."

I jumped a little when King's hand touched my stomach, just above the waistline of the short-shorts. His touch was electric.

Michael obliged, and took a massive rip, demonstrating how to do it. I figured he would exhale, but instead he leaned over, grabbed me gently but firmly behind my neck, and moved toward me like he was gonna kiss me.

"Suck in his rip, Little Buddy!" King instructed. "It's called a shotgun. We try not to waste what we've got, so shotgunning makes it last longer."

I stopped resisting Michael's hand on the back of my neck. When his lips touched mine and he exhaled that smoke, I was harder than I'd ever been before. My whole body tingled - whether from the smoke, or from the fact that Michael's lips touched mine, or both, I wasn't quite sure. I never would've guessed in a million years that he'd do something like that with me.

Uncle King grabbed the bong and took his own rip.

As King pulled me toward him to do another shotgun, I could smell the mint of his dip. After he shotgunned me once, he said he was gonna go back in and watch some more TV, but would be back out at later.

"Have fun, you two!" he called over his shoulder.

Michael chuckled and said, "Don't worry, Dad. We will."

After King left, Michael groped himself and said, "Fuuuuuuuuck, Little Buddy, this shit always makes me horny! Are you feeling horny, too?"

I blushed. I was, from the shotguns and I guess the pot itself.

He smirked and told me it was OK, it happens to most people.

He had me do another rip, and moved in to shotgun it. This time, he stuck his tongue in my mouth and groped me.

I was shocked, but incredibly horny.

He broke the kiss, and got behind me.

"Make muscles for me, Little Buddy! Remember how scrawny you were when we first started lifting together? You're a hot little firecracker now, and girls AND guys are gonna want some of this."

I made a muscle for him with both arms. He ran his hands over both mounds, and then let the backs of his fingertips drift under my armpits, and down my bare sides where the t-shirt was cut out. I moaned, whimpered, and sighed all at once. The backs of his fingers were cold, and felt amazing.

"Like that, Little Buddy?" he whispered in my ear, nibbling on it a little.

I nodded. I couldn't speak.

He tweaked my nipples. I just about jumped out of my skin.

He laughed. "Sensitive nips, huh? That's gonna be fun!"

When he let his hands drift down to the waistline of the short-shorts I was wearing, he paused, grinding his fat monster of a cock into the crack of my ass through the nylon fabric.

"I know you've wanted this dick for a long, long time. Well, today's your lucky day. And we're gonna play all weekend long."

Holy Shit. This really was really, really happening. I wasn't dreaming.

He turned me around to face him and kissed me, deeply and passionately, again.

"Get on the bench, Little Buddy! Let's lift some."

That threw me for a loop, but I was buzzed and putty in his hand. I assumed the position, making sure my hands were spaced out correctly for good form. He always preached that good form was essential for good lifting.

He put on a slightly challenging weight for me to lift. The first set was no problem. I got a little wobbly midway through the second set, and he gently spotted me to help me lift the bar. The third set, I was struggling. On the eighth rep of the third set, I noticed that he had dropped one hand down and was spotting me with just his other. On the ninth rep, I noticed movement right above my head. As I completed my tenth rep and placed the bar back in place with his help, I looked up to see that Michael was fishing his cock out of the side of his own short-shorts and stained jockstrap with the hand he had dropped. Fuuuuuuuck. Nice.

He flopped it onto my lips, painting them with precum. I gasped.

"Oh, fuck, Little Buddy, your sweet cherry lips and deep dimples look so hot framing my big cock! We're both gonna enjoy this. You've wanted this for a long time, huh?"

This time I answered, humming against his massive uncut cockhead. "MMM-hmmmmm!"

"That's what I like to hear! Open your mouth and suck on it, Little Buddy. See how much you can take. If you slide your head off the bench some, the curve of my cock will fit nicely down your throat."

I slid back, and he squatted down closer as I did so. I could smell his sweaty ballsack and the musk of his jock.

I opened my mouth, and we both moaned as he slid about half of it into my mouth. That cockhead of his was lodged in my throat. I squeezed - not trying to block it out, but rather trying to swallow it. It felt right.

"Holy fuck! You're a natural. I knew you would be. You like that dick?"

I moaned "MMMMMM-hmmmm!" this time, realizing I could answer yes or no questions even with his cock in my mouth.

"You have no idea how many times I've wanted to do this. But Dad said we had to wait until after you turned 18, so that your mom couldn't say shit about your consenting to having us use you."

The thought of pissing off Mom made his cock all the sweeter. Or, maybe it was the precum he was leaking in buckets.

After a few minutes, Michael pulled out of my mouth and said, "Let's do some more rips on the bong."

As we traded shotguns back and forth, Michael asked questions, like who I had crushes on. Top of my list? HIs best friend and next-door neighbor, Kip. Kip was a hot redheaded redneck who was voted "Why Teachers Go Crazy" his senior year. He was not just the class clown, but he had played on the same football team that Michael quarterbacked. Kip was one of the "inner circle" who called me "Little Buddy" - and I especially liked how he said it - always with a smirk on his face or a twinkle in his eye.

Michael surprised the hell out of me when he told me that Kip was one of the top weed dealers his dad and he bought from, and that this primo stuff was from Kip's personal stash.

He really floored me when he said, "Kip is gonna be playing with us this weekend. He has it for you bad, and has for years, Little Buddy. He could barely wait for you to turn 18."

I had always wondered at some of the things that Kip did. For instance, when Michael and he took me four-wheeling back on the trails behind my grandparents' farm, Kip would often take a piss in nature, and angle himself so that I could see what he was sporting. Although not as thick as Michael's, it was about as long, it looked like. One time, I'd ridden back to the farm with Kip, instead of with Michael. The three of us had helmets with mics and earpieces. Kip told me it was OK if I wanted to rest my hands lower as I rode behind him. Michael put a quick stop to that, having me switch back over to riding with him. I jerked off that night hard, thinking maybe Kip was onto me, and was gonna let me feel him up a little that day. Other times, when Michael wasn't looking, Kip would grope himself and wink at me when I blushed.

After we finished trading rips, Michael pushed me gently to my knees on the thin wrestling mats that they had in their garage-corner gym.

"SUCK IT!" he hissed, commanding - expecting - to be obeyed.

I gladly obliged, and found that - with this angle and with the downward curve of Michael's monster cock - I could get some of it in my throat, once I relaxed my throat *first* to let the cockhead in, and then clenched it *after* it was down my throat, to drive Michael wild.

"Oh, that thing you're doing with your throat, Little Buddy! That's better than any bitch has ever done for me! They get scared of it and lick the head or put a few inches in their mouths and call it quits after just a few minutes. Keep working at it, and you're gonna have it all in no time!"

"Looks like you two are having fun after all!" Uncle King chuckled, causing me to jump out of my skin. He'd snuck up on us.

"TV was boring," he explained, holding up a smaller bong with water in it and a small glass bulb at one end. It was full of white crystals, with a little bit of green weed on top.

"Is that some of Kip's special stuff?" Michael grinned. The tone of his voice was almost ... something hard to put my finger on right off the bat.

"Yeah, and it's killer shit, too!" Uncle King replied. He pulled out a small device and clicked a switch. A blue flame - like the pilot light on our gas stove at home - sparked up, hissing.

"OK, Little Buddy," King said. "This is stronger, more concentrated stuff, OK? So, you put the torch under the bowl until you see vapor coming out the top of the bulb. Then, you suck slowly and steadily to pull the vapor through the water. I've dropped an Altoid in there to keep the water minty. The vapor can taste a little bitter otherwise. Take a nice, steady toke on this end of the pipe, and we'll get you blowing some big-ass clouds in no time."

I tried my first hit, as Uncle King held the lighter - or "torch" I guess - under the bowl for me, so I could focus on waiting to inhale.

The first hit was decent, but Michael immediately said, "You can do better than that. Calm down, and control your breathing. Hold it in, too, this time."

My second hit was brilliant. I knew it was as soon as I exhaled a big white cloud. Both Uncle King and Michael grinned. King started groping his crotch through his own short-shorts. I reached over and groped him.

"Like a duck to water, huh, Little Buddy? You want that cock, too, huh? A true faggot: never enough!" he laughed.

I replied by pulling the elastic of his jockstrap and short-shorts to the side, letting his gigantic cock fall out to one side. Like Michael, he was uncut with a massive cockhead. He was about an inch longer than Michael, too, but not quite as thick. Both were Viking gods: shiny blond hair, sharp, intelligent, mischievous blue eyes, strong jawlines, and great bodies overall.

"You want that cock, Little Buddy?" King asked again, his voice husky.

I nodded, and dove in. He was surprised that I already had the trick down pat for letting his cockhead enter my throat, even if I couldn't take his cock the whole way just yet.

"Oh, fuck, he is a goddamn natural!" he hissed to Michael. "Fuuuuuuuuck! Fuckin' hot cocksucker!"

He moaned, and told me to take another couple of hits. My head was buzzing, and my whole body was tingling. This *was* good shit, I guess! Pot rocked!

"That's right, faggot! Worship that daddy dick!" he grunted, gently grabbing the back of my head and running his hands through my hair, which I suddenly noticed was soaking wet. I was sweating like crazy. The coolish air out in the garage felt good on my skin.

"You feeling that special stuff Kip got just for you, Little Buddy? Your extra special birthday present?" Michael asked, coming over to stand in my peripheral vision. He had hiked his shorts and jockstrap pouch under his huge nuts, and was stroking his massive jock cock while watching his dad gently facefuck me.

I moaned "MMMMMMM-hmmmm!" but assumed it was just the pot I'd seen on top of those crystals in the pipe. In fact, I assumed the crystals *were* pot - just a concentrated form of it, like King had indicated. The crystals had melted when the torch had been put under the bulb, and now there was sort of a burned-out looking film on the bottom of the pipe. I assumed it was residue from the pot.

Uncle King leaned over and whispered in my ear: "Bikers and truckers use this shit to stay awake on the road. Kip gets me some *really* good shit when I do really long hauls, to help me stay awake and have some fun on the road. Makes you super-horny - even hornier than pot. What would your mama think if she knew you were doing crystal meth like a little faggot whorepig, like the boys who suck my dick do when I'm on the road? What would she do if she knew that you were smoking the same shit I do on the road right now?"

I'd heard about people getting hooked on that shit, and it was one of the "hard drugs" we'd learned about in Health class Sophomore year. It was supposed to be really, really bad for you.

I don't know what it was. The way Uncle King was talking - calling me a faggot and a whorepig and cocksucker - turned me on. Plus, this shit rocked. I was hornier than I ever imagined I could be, and I beat off 8 times a day usually, so I knew what it meant to be super-horny.

Michael repacked the pipe, using a slant-sliced straw to funnel crystals out of a little plastic baggie. I watched, mesmerized. I wanted more.

He took a small hit for himself, then handed it to his dad. King took a really big hit, and then blew the cloud down onto his cock and onto my face. That really turned me on, the way he blew in my face like that.

Then, he handed the pipe and torch down to me, and told me to hold my breath when I got my hit, suck his cock into my mouth, and blow the smoke around his cock. I thought that was clever and hot, and really was careful with my breathing to get an ace hit. Sweet! I was getting the hang of this. If Mom could only see me now!

When I went to hand the pipe and torch back to Michael, he insisted that I do a few more hits.

"We're getting you totally spun, Little Buddy! Happy Fuckin' Birthday! Sorry we're a little late, but we had to wait until the Bible-thumpers were outta town this week. We're calling you out sick from school all next week, too. Surprise!"

I heard the side door open and close, and jumped as Kip called out, "Hey guys! Y'all got the party started? Sweet! Here's some more stuff in case we run low."

Kip came over in front of me. Uncle King relinquished my throat, and Kip wasted no time in lowering his sweat pants and boxers to present his own cut, thick cock with bright red pubes. Fuuuuuucking HAWT! Although not as long or as thick as Michael or King, his cock was veiny and plenty of a mouthful.

He waggled it a couple of times and slapped my face with it.

"You're lucky Michael threatened to kick my ass if I broke the pact. I've wanted this for a long time. I know you have, too. Nasty little boy, watching me piss outside. Well, this weekend, you're gonna get some of my piss, and see if it suits you. I have a feeling you're the right kind of cocksucker for it, too. Call it a hunch."

I stuck my tongue out for him to smack it with his cock. He finally pushed in, a little rougher than either Michael or King. I gagged a little, but redoubled my efforts.

"See that? He recovered like a pro! This fag is gonna be hella fun to train, guys!" Kip grinned.

He pulled my hair - again, just a little roughly - to have me look up at him.

"Oh, shit! Look at his eyes, guys! They're totally dark. He's spun as shit already. Awesome! And he thought it was just another way of doing pot? Told you that trick works every time. You have NO idea how many of my hot straight boy customers come up short on money. So, I pack a pot bowl with the crystals hidden, and they haven't got a fucking clue. After one bowl of my "special stash," they're open to all kinds of stuff, starting with jerking off together. It releases their inhibitions to act on stuff like sucking another guy off, too, especially once I start showing them bi magazines."

As Kip was saying this, Michael went out to the front of the garage, and returned with something I couldn't quite see.

Michael came into my peripheral view. I heard a familiar click then whirr. "Holy shit!" I thought. "He's taking Polaroids."

I started to get up, but Kip held me back down on my knees.

"Lick my balls, you fucking hot cocksuker!" Kip growled.

Guys at school sometimes called me fag or cocksucker or whatever, the way boys jest in the lockerroom or on the school bus or in gym class. This felt different. Having these three guys call me names made me *want* to be *good* at servicing them. I licked Kip's balls, as he shucked his sweats and boxers.

King came back into view, standing right beside Kip.

"Suck on my sweaty pouch, boy!" King growled, offering my his jock-clad nuts. Another click and whirr.

"Don't worry, Little Buddy," Michael said, "These are just for the four of us to look at later. You won't believe how hot you look with Dad's crotch on your face. Stick out your tongue and taste it. Hold it so I can get a picture. You're gonna love having this on film to look back at your first time."

I stuck out my tongue and tasted Uncle King's pouch, starting to get into the fact that my hot trucker uncle was basically offering up his cock to me on a silver platter while my cousin and his perverted, mischievous, class clown, drug-dealing friend watched.

Michael asked me if it had turned me on earlier when he let me borrow his clothes - which I was still wearing. I moaned "Uh-huh!" as I kept tonguing and sucking on King's jock pouch.

"I got a bunch more gear I want you to try on, so I can get some more pix of you, Little Buddy. Oh, and I hope you don't mind, but I'm using the Pentax, too."

Two Christmases ago, Michael had begged for a fancy camera, so that he could take Photography at school. He had taken me to the darkroom once, and the teacher, Mr. Lacey, was there. He was really hot in a nerdy, glasses kinda way, and I could tell he had a huge cock in the front of his chinos. While I was leaned over watching Michael apply the chemicals, Mr. Lacey had come up behind me and put his arms to either side of me as he leaned forward to look over my shoulder as Michael worked to develop his pictures. I could feel Mr. Lacey's cock in the crease of my ass. I had jerked off to that incident many times since, wondering if: A. Mr. Lacey realized his cock was up against my ass; and B. Michael had realized that Mr. Lacey's cock was right up against my ass.

"I'll develop these in the darkroom at the school. Mr. Lacey still lets me use it. Or, I know a guy at the FotoMat who is cool when I develop pix like these when we play with other guys."

I didn't like the idea of anyone else but the four of us seeing the pix. I stopped sucking on King's jockstrap pouch long enough to tell Michael I'd prefer he develop them himself in the darkroom.

"No problem, Little Buddy! Maybe Mr. Lacey will be there when I do. I bet he'd like to see these. He sure seemed to like your ass that one day he was in the darkroom with us. He's a kinky fucker, and always says that access to a darkroom lets a photographer be more uninhibited."

Somehow, I didn't mind the idea that Mr. Lacey might see these. It turned me on, in fact, and I stopped mouthing King's jock long enough to say so.

Michael smiled and told me to take as much of his dad's cock as I could, and then to back off it slowly. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click! the fancy camera went, in rapid succession. I guess he got a series of me throating Uncle King? HOT!

King pulled out, and Kip took another turn. He had let himself go half-soft, and stuck his cock in my mouth.

"I'm gonna start really slow, and piss in your mouth, Little Buddy! I've been drinking like a champ for three days, so it shouldn't taste bad - it's basically water. I'll pinch it off so you get a taste, and then hold my cock about halfway in your mouth so I can open the floodgates. Swallow as much as you can, but let the rest run out your mouth, onto your dimples, and down your chin. My favorite cocksuckers do this for me, Little Buddy. Please don't disappoint me."

I dunno why, but what would ordinarily sound batshit crazy sounded hot as fuck to me.

I nodded, with his half-soft / half-hard cock in my mouth. I was ready.

"Fuuuuuuuuck, nice!" said Kip, looking down at me with green, sparkling, mischievous eyes. "Look up at me while I do this, Little Buddy!"

Michael got up close to take a close-up series. He instructed me: "Just let it run down off your chin an onto your clothes, Little Buddy. I'll capture the moment."

As Kip let loose with the first bit of his piss stream, it didn't taste bad at all to me. It was a thrill, though, to let him use me this way. I looked up at him and caught his eyes staring down at me.

"HOT, Little Buddy!" Kip sneered a little. "Drinking piss like a total faggot whore. NICE! I knew you wanted my dick all those times I pissed with you in the woods."

With that, he let loose the floodgates. I fought to swallow it all, trying to make him proud. But as piss spurted from my mouth, all over my face, and down the front of my clothes, all three were commenting on what a total cocksucker I was.

Kip lost it. As soon as he finished pinching off the last few drops in my mouth, he had Michael give him the pipe and took a big hit. Then, he surprised the hell out of me by shotgunning me and kissing me, tasting his own piss in my mouth.

"I can't believe you did that on the first date, Little Buddy! You're a helluva find, dude. I still think we should've broken you in years ago, though."

"Let it go, Kip!" Michael laughed, rolling his eyes. "How was that, Little Buddy? Like having so much piss you couldn't handle it all? The camera sure seems to think you liked it. I bet those pix are off the chain when we develop them."

I grinned - a piss-drinking grin, I guess. "Loved it! Fucking hot!" I said, a little out of breath.

Uncle King grabbed a duffel bag from under one of his workbenches. As he unzipped it, he made sure I could see the contents: dildos and other toys. Oh, fuck! Were they gonna try to fuck me? I'd always imagined sucking only, and had no idea if I could possibly take any one of them in my tight, hairless hole. I was naturally smooth, and Michael had commented more than once when I put on a jockstrap to work out - one of *my* jockstraps, where everything fit right - how my hole, framed by a jockstrap, made it look like I had a sweet pussy. I always blushed bright red when he said that, especially when he tugged at himself a little when he said it.

Uncle King seemed to read my mind: "Don't worry, Little Buddy. We have all weekend to tap that sweet little ass of yours. For now, I just want to show you how good we can make your hole feel. I'm going to insert this small bead into your hole with some lube. It's attached to a slightly larger bead, then a slightly larger one, until you're up to the girth of a man-sized cock. You ever play with your hole before?"

I shook my head. "Nothing except showering," I replied.

"Well, this is gonna be really pleasurable for you. Promise, Little Buddy. I know you've wanted to suck some dick for a long time, but you need to learn how to pleasure other men with your tight hole, too, OK?"

I nodded.

Kip grabbed the pipe, which was sitting on a shelf of the garage, and repacked it from a plastic baggie. As he did, he also sprinkled some dust onto the lubed-up bead Uncle King was approaching me with.

"This may burn a little bit, Little Buddy," King said, "But it's gonna feel really fuckin' good in a coupla minutes." As he said that, he squirted lube on my hole. YIKES! It was cold. I jumped and clenched. All three of them laughed.

"Don't clench. Bear down like you're taking a shit. There ya go! Open that sweet boyhole for this very special bead."

Shiny, silvery, and cold, the first bead popped in. Almost immediately, I felt a burning sensation.

"That burns!" I announced to all three of them. I guess they *had* warned me.

"Just chill for a minute, Little Buddy," Kip said. "My stuff is really, really good, so it's gonna burn. But it's gonna feel absolutely amazing by the second ball, I promise."

I looked between my legs. King and Kip were already slathering the next ball in lube and powder.

"Here," Kip said, thrusting the pipe at me. "Take three really good hits from the bubbler. That'll help pass the time and take your mind off your hole for a few while you get used to it."

I took another hit, motioning for Kip to shotgun with me. Click. Click. Click. Michael was taking pix of my ass and the beads and the powder. Hot. I'd wanna see those later.

As Uncle King inserted the second bead, Kip got into position behind me and pushed the bead in with just the head of his cock. A little of the tip went in. HOLY FUCK, that was hot!

Almost at that same instant, my hole became - well, there's no other way to describe it - hungry. My hole was as hungry as my mouth and throat for the first time ever.

"Yeah, he's feeling that booty bump now," Kip grinned. He passed me the "bubbler" pipe again. Again, we shotgunned. This time, after he kissed me, he held my face to where my mouth was open and spit in my mouth. Some of it got on my face. "Filthy faggot cocksucker, learning to take dick up his ass this weekend. Niiiiiice!"

That turned me on more than anything that had happened so far, including the piss play. Holy fuck, did Kip have my number!

I moaned as he wiped the spit off my face with his cock and fed it to me.

"Want more powder on the third bead, faggot?" Kip asked.

I groaned, "Yeah, please!"

So King and Kip carefully lubed up that third ball, sprinkled some powder out of the baggie, and - once again - Kip pushed it in with his cockhead. This time, the whole head - smaller than King's or Michael's - slipped in.

I moaned like a bitch in heat.

"Fuuuuuuuuck! Fuck me, Kip! Put it in me!" I begged.

He laughed and pulled out.

"Nope, we have a gentleman's agreement. Your Uncle King gets to do the honors, since he's the one that read us the riot act about waiting until you turned 18. It was worth the wait. So, it's that last bead you'll need to take before you're ready to be fucked by his giant daddy dick, Little Buddy!"

Uncle King piped up: "Don't worry, Little Buddy. I have lots of experience bitching out boys like you. I have all kinds of fun on the open road with boys at rest stops and with guys on my route in the warehouses and such. You're gonna love having my cock inside you to get things started. Me, then Michael, then Kip to close up with sloppy thirds. He loves fucking other men's cum into a used hole. It's gonna be hot, Little Buddy!"

On the fourth bead, Michael got up close with the camera as Uncle King used *his* cock to push the ball in. Only a very small part of his ginormous uncut cockhead went in, but it felt amazing, especially when Kip pulled my cock out the side of my short-shorts and jockstrap and started stroking me with some lube.

The sensations were almost too much to bear. The first little bead was up inside me, followed by its three chaingangers. It felt awesome, no two ways about it!

For the fifth and final bead, Uncle King once again used his cockhead to push the bead in, but told me to really bear down as he did so. Not only did the bead pop in, but so did his cockhead. Click. Click. Click. Click. Michael was capturing it all on film. He'd already changed the film in the camera several times.

Uncle King rested his cock inside me. I didn't move. 

"Little Buddy, how's that feel?" Uncle King asked, grunting huskily. "Jesus, fuck, you're tight! But we're gonna make this happen. I can't wait another day."

Holy shit, this was it! I was gonna get fucked tonight after all.

[To Be Continued; Hope You Enjoyed!]

 

 

 

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7 minutes ago, Njn0mc said:

Fucking hot 🔥🔥🔥

Got so hard reading!!  More please!

Thank you so much, and glad you enjoyed! I'm working on the next chapter (and have it partially written), so hopefully it won't be too long of a wait. I truly appreciate your taking the time to write! 🙂 

Edited by roguechoirboi
Politeness
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Chapter 2

Uncle King gently rocked his hips back and forth, asking Kip for more lube. Kip squeezed some lube on Uncle King's giant cock and on my hairless hole. Then, he picked up the pipe, took a big hit, and shotgunned me, kissing me ferociously.

"Tweak his nipples!" Michael called out to Kip from behind the camera.

When I jumped from Kip's touch, more of Uncle King's cock pushed into my hole. I grunted and moaned, while writhing away from Kip's thumbs and fingers.

"Oh, that is just all kinds of excellent!" Kip laughed, a little sadistically. "We'll have to see if there's anything in that duffel bag for nipples. If not, my mom has clothespins I can borrow."

The thought of this turned me on. I had played with my nipples while jerking off before, and always loved how it felt. These guys sure seemed to know what they were doing when it came to using a guy like me.

Kip took another hit, and shotgunned me once again, while still stroking my cock. I was beginning to rock back on Uncle King's cock a little, meeting him on his subtle thrusts. I guess he didn't wanna go for broke and spook me.

Almost as if he'd read my mind, King said, "Nice and slow, Little Buddy. I got you. Nice and slow. Keep rocking back on that big daddy dick. You gonna call me 'Daddy' when I plow your hot little hole, Little Buddy? You gonna tell me 'Yes, Sir!' and 'No, Sir!' when I ask you questions while I'm fucking you?"

"Yes, Sir!" I answered, already getting into the spirit of it.

He grinned. "Nice. We're gonna have a lot of fun. First question: "You gonna get mad if we invite other guys over to use you this week?"

Wow. The thought that such a big secret as this would - could - go beyond the four of us hadn't occurred to me. Of course, I'd arrived that evening expecting nothing more than a routine workout and sleepover.

"No, Sir!" I stammered, not too confidently. Then I added, "Like who?"

"That's our little secret," King replied, winking at me as he rocked his cock back and forth, with a few inches now buried in my hole. "But there are quite a few guys around town who have it bad for you, Little Buddy. You're gonna have a fun time, though, I promise! You just gotta keep this all a secret, OK?"

"Yes, Sir!" I replied.

"Attaboy, Little Buddy!" King beamed down at me. His voice sounded proud.

Slowly, Uncle King pulled his cock out, followed by the beads, one by one - which drove me insane as they put pressure on my prostate and then popped out my hairless hole. Then, he quickly stuffed his cock back in the gape before it closed up again. With the beads now gone, he now had a couple of inches more in there.

"Sooooooooo fuckin' tight! Goddamn this is some Grade A boypussy right here, guys."

Kip reached over and spanked me hard on my right asscheek. I jumped, and as I did so, Uncle King's cock slid in another couple of inches. This was happening, and I fucking loved it.

I moaned out: "Oh, fuck me, Uncle King! Fuck me! Put it in me!"

"Call me 'Daddy' Little Buddy," King reminded me. "And call Michael 'big brother,' OK? I've always wanted a boy of mine to take care of me, but Michael was never into it. You're like the faggot younger son I never had, and the cocksucking little brother Michael never had."

That was off-the-chain hot. I wondered what King might have done to try to entice Michael to play with him. Had Michael done *anything* with his dad before, I wondered? With the smoke, my thoughts were nasty and scattered. I imagined that maybe King had secretly given Michael meth, too, like he had done with me.

"Fuck me, Daddy!" I replied, focusing, grunting, and thrusting back on him as he got a little more aggressive with his strokes.

Michael was taking pictures like crazy. He had Kip grab the Polaroid to take more of those, too.

Michael came up to my head and offered me his cock, as he urged his dad on and continued taking pictures with the Pentax. I was lying back on the bench, King holding my ankles in the air while Michael squatted down to feed me his big "big brother" cock.

"Come on, Dad! You're more than halfway in now. He can take it. He's all blissed out and high as fuck. Just a little further, and you're gonna bottom out and take that sweet cherry finally! Go balls deep, Dad! Show this little faggot of ours how much he's gonna love getting fucked this week at both ends!"

Uncle King grabbed my narrow hips and pulled me back onto his cock, rough. He wasn't quite as aggressive as Kip had been so far, but pretty close. I realized I liked it rough.

He locked eyes with me as he began to push more steadily at my hole, rocking back and forth in larger arcs now. He was fucking a few inches inside me, for sure, and hitting my prostate with each stroke.

"OK, faggot," King said to me, "Second question: name some other friends of Michael's that you have a crush on besides Kip here."

Michael took his cock out of my mouth so I could answer.

I thought for a second and answered, grinning and flashing my deep dimples, "Definitely Javon and Juan Pablo!"

Michael laughed: "Oh, they'll be here later. That was a gimme and a no-brainer, the way you always gawked at them in the locker room while waiting for me to give you a ride home after practice. You like the dark meat, Little Buddy? HAWT! Well, they can't wait to sink their black and brown cocks into your pink, pale, hairless boyhole."

Whenever I used to wait for Michael in the locker room after his practices, Javon would let his big black cock swing back and forth, hitting each leg as he walked. Whenever Michael wasn't around, he'd waggle it at me and wink at me, and say stuff like, "You ever see such a big cock, Little Buddy?" or, "Pretty little white boys like you shouldn't stare, ya know." I'd blush every time, but he'd flash his pearly whites and tell me he was just kidding, and that he was used to the white boys on the football and baseball teams checking him out. "Even the coaches do, so don't worry about it."

Still, I'd always blush whenever he did it. But I always looked.

Then, there was Juan Pablo. His parents had moved to West Virginia from Colombia, and his dad was a general family practitioner in town. Juan Pablo was openly into me, even around Michael. Michael often had to fuss at him to back off and leave me alone, but I noticed it always seemed to make Michael hard whenever Juan Pablo would "cross the line" with me.

For instance, one time last summer, Juan Pablo had been one of the first ones off the field after practice, and had come over to talk to me as I sat on the bench waiting for Michael. Michael's locker was in a back corner. Juan Pablo angled himself so that anyone else coming into that row of lockers couldn't see, as he untied his football pants, fished out his cup, and waggled his massive uncut cock out right in front of my face, about an inch from my lips.

"Like that, Little Buddy?" he'd asked me, point-blank, shaking it and tugging on his foreskin as his cock grew larger. Blushing, I shrugged.

"Well, it likes you," he leered, taking my non-committal shrug as a yes. "Too bad Michael is so uptight, or we could have a little fun, you and me. Guys back home play around all the time."

Just then, Michael rounded the end of the row, and stalked over to Juan Pablo, a pissed-off, set-jawed look on his face.

"Put it away!" he hissed, looking around to make sure nobody else had seen. I guess he had a sixth sense about what was going down. Or maybe Juan Pablo had miscalculated the angle.

"Chill, amigo!" Juan Pablo said, nonchalantly and slowly tucking himself back into his football pants. "The kid wants it, though. You know it and I know it."

"There's a time and a place for everything," Michael answered cryptically.

Now, as I lay there with his dad's cock burrowing into my tight, hairless hole, I realized what he'd meant at the time. The time was now - after my 18th birthday - and the place was right here in this dingy, run-down garage. It all made sense now, and was HOT AS FUCK!

King interrupted my train of thought: "Next question: how old do most people still think you are, Little Buddy?"

I blushed. This was a sore spot for me. Most people thought I was still around 14 or 15.

I answered truthfully: "Usually they guess 14 or 15."

"That's fuckin' hot, Little Buddy!" Kip whooped. "You really can pretend that you're Michael's little brother, eager to please him, and his friends, and y'all's pervy fuckin' daddy!"

King grunted, thrusting more of his cock in, insistently now. "Oh, fuuuuuuuuck, Kip, say more shit like that and you'll have me cumming in no time!"

"It's hot as fuck, King!" Kip replied. "Give him all of that daddy dick, so his big brother can fuck him next!"

Michael moved around to get a close-up of his dad's massive cock about halfway in my hole now. He told Kip to put some more lube on the back end of his dad's cock, and Kip quickly obliged.

When Kip finished, he came up by my head and squatted way down for me to swallow his cock. Aggressively, he gagged me.

"Breathe through your nose, Little Buddy," he instructed. "You can do this. You can throat my cock all the way if you try."

I got a good bit of his cock down my throat, squeezing tight once his cockhead entered my gullet, before I gagged again. Michael was taking pictures of the action.

"Holy shit, that's hot, Kip! Keep it up! He almost had it all. And you can see your cock stretching out his throat when you face-fuck him. That is so off the hook!"

Kip kept at it for a few more minute, gagging me intermittently. I *almost* got it all at one point, then almost puked. Kip pulled out, as I gasped for air.

"That was hot as fuck, Little Buddy! I'll give you a rest. Here, smoke some more."

He handed me the pipe, leaning in to shotgun with me - kissing me aggressively and grabbing my hair hard to hold me in position - after every rip I took from the bubbler.

Suddenly and without warning, King reached up and tweaked both my nipples, hard, as he rammed his cock into my hole. This time, I jumped so hard that my ring gave way and he bottomed out. I could feel his big nuts mashed up against my asscrack.

"Oh, fuuuuuuuuuuuck!" he hissed.

I grunted and moaned really loud.

"Oh, fuck, Daddy, fuck! That feels so good! Fuck me, Daddy! Show my big brother and his buddy what a faggot I am for your big daddy dick! Let Michael get more pictures of his little brother being y'all's boywhore and boyhole."

Somehow, I just ***knew*** that I could push some of *their* buttons now, now that I knew some of *their* kinks and turn-ons.

King grunted, grinned, leaned down, and told me to hold my mouth open. When I did, he spat in it. It tasted minty from his dipping earlier.

"Look at you, Little Buddy, embracing the whole daddy / son / big brother roleplay thing! You're even hotter than I imagined you would be. I've known for years that you were checking other guys out - I mean, it was obvious to anyone with eyes except your dumb-as-shit parents - but we had to wait. Sorry about that, Little Buddy. But I know some guys who got into some deep shit with the law for breaking that particular Thou Shalt Not."

"I understand, Dad." I replied, smiling up at him.

"Good boy!" he grinned down at me. As he said this, he began to slowly pull out just a little, then easing back in, starting a slowly-building rhythm. With each pullout, he pulled a little more out, until he was longdicking me from tip to base with each thrust.

"Oh, fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! Fuck my tight little boyhole, Daddy! Make me your bitch!" I hissed up at King, hunger in my eyes.

Micheal piped up: "You're a nasty little faggot, aren't you, Little Buddy - or should I say, Little Brother? I always knew you would be. It killed me not to do anything about it. I knew you wanted it, and I wanted to help you act on your desires, but rules are rules, man."

I moaned. My main crush had always been on Michael. Now, with him pretending to be my big brother? I was over the moon, delirious with horned-up, crazy, addle-minded fantasies. The smoke helped, of course. I was high as fuck, with all kinds of nasty thoughts running through my mind. Mainly, I wondered who else might be coming - or cumming - that week. And I wondered whether King had ever fucked Michael like this. It turned me on to think that King got Michael to suck and take his dick at least once. I don't know why, but the thought of him secretly slipping Michael meth like they'd done to me was a huge turn-on.

"Are Javon and Juan Pablo really coming?" I asked, looking at Michael.

"Yup. They'll be here later. We'll have to put the bubbler away though. They don't know I do this shit. They're due here in a coupla hours. That should give all three of us a chance to unload in your hot, hairless hole. Your hole makes you look so young, dude! It's fucking hot as hell, and it looks awesome stretched around Dad's dick, man! Just wait until you see these pix later!"

King continued long-dicking me. "How's that feel, son? You like my great big daddy dick pounding your hot little boyhole?"

I remembered the correct response: "Yessir, Daddy! If I'd known this felt so good, I would've been playing with my own hole all this time."

Michael grinned and said: "We hid my bi mags from you, so that you had no idea how good it might feel to have a cock or something else in your ass. We wanted you as tight as possible for taking your cherry together tonight."

That was hot. Still, I couldn't help but think of all the cucumbers I could've used. I'd heard boys on the bus joke about using a cucumber in the ass. Now, I wondered if they were really joking or not.

King really picked up the pace now, pounding my hole and slapping his big beefy legs into my ass with each thrust.

"Get ready, son! Here it cums!" he suddenly said, taking Michael, Kip, and me all three by surprise, I think. He grunted, grunted, grunted, and then - with one final total-buried-thrust - unloaded in my hairless hole.

When he finished cumming, he just rested there for a minute, catching his breath. I was on fire with hunger.

Pulling out, he turned to Michael and said, "Your turn."

Michael waved him off. "I'll go last after all. I wanna get the pictures out of the way first before I fuck him. You go, Kip."

Kip didn't need to be told twice. Shoving his dick in in one thrust, he grinned down and me and said, "Your daddy loosened you up real nice. Ready for another pounding, faggot?"

King came up to my mouth and told me, "Clean my cock, son! Show Daddy what a nasty faggot he has for a son!"

As Kip slammed into me, I cleaned that daddy dick, swallowing the first half, and licking off the second half to the base. I was in pig heaven.

[Kip's rough fuck will be next + Javon and Juan Pablo arrive early + more guests are revealed or hinted at ... hope you enjoyed.]

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