Date: Sun, 8 Feb 2015 05:39:40 -0500
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Good For Nothing

                         GOOD FOR NOTHING
                      By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     "Stuart!" my wife yelled at me and I jumped, spilling my coffee onto
my plate and rumpling my newspaper.
     "Yes, dear?" I asked hastily.
     "Weren't you listening to a word I was saying?" she demanded rather
than asked me.
     "I'm sorry, dear." I answered in lieu of admitting I had in fact tuned
her out. My wife Lula was a good-hearted woman, but her tongue was more
than enough to make any man develop selective deafness, particularly on a
warm Saturday morning after a hard week of work. "What did you want me to
do?" I felt safe in asking this question, for she never lost her temper
with me except when I failed to hear her latest demands.
     "I said when are you going to get that shiftless good-for-nothing
nephew of mine out of this house?" Lula told me in exasperated tones. "I
know you're the most spineless wimp of a man that ever walked or breathed,
but it's still your job to speak to him."
     "But he's your nephew, my dear." I objected softly. I couldn't object
to the rest of her tirade, for she was undoubtedly correct. I sighed as I
thought that to myself. It's such a heavy burden to be a man of
slight-built frame and gentle nature, one is never taken seriously no
matter what one does. I had taken Lula as a wife mainly because she'd said
she could make a man out of me and I'd hoped she'd succeed. Instead, she'd
become my unending goad.
     "Step-nephew!" Lula corrected me immediately as she always did when I
dared label this lazy lunk as any blood kin of hers. "But you're the one
invited him here!" Lula was only technically right about that. Jim, a man
bigger than my wife Lula (if you can conceive of such a thing, for my wife
is of a ponderously large and muscular frame), had simply shown up on the
doorstep one Saturday morning much like this one after Lula had left for
her weekly shopping with her friends, and announced that he was moving in
with us. He'd said it in a way that had made me think that Lula had known
and approved of his coming and thought she'd simply mentioned his visit to
me at a time when I'd been tuning out my wife's unending diatribe. So I'd
let him in and by the time she'd returned home at nearly nightfall as
usual, he was unpacked and settled in watching the television, my last beer
in his hand. That had been two months before, and not one iota of his
intended plan to seek out a job, save a bit of money and then moving out
had yet to appear. Meanwhile, he had his appetite, which accounted for the
doubling or more of our weekly food budget, his taste for beer (a six pack
at a minimum every evening, plus three to five more throughout the day as
well) and his delight in television and games of pool which he played at a
rather seedy bar a few blocks away as much as his limited funds would
permit him. He would ask me for money for this at least twice a week and I
usually gave it to him quickly, for it meant his absence from the house for
several hours.
     "I beg your pardon?" I asked quickly, for I realized she had spoken
further and I hadn't heard her.
     "I said, you're the one who invited him here and so it's up to you to
tell him to pack his things and get out."
     "But he won't have any bus fare to leave with." I pointed out.
     "So take him down to the station and buy his ticket." she
commanded. "But buy it and watch him get on the bus and tell the driver not
to let him off or he'll redeem it and be back here by nightfall. I want him
out of here, and before I get back tonight or, I warn you, I'll move out
myself and you can be the one to cook and clean for him from now on!"
     "Yes, dear." I withered under her glare as I always did. Oh, how I
wish she'd carried through on her plan to make me a real man! But I don't
recall her even trying except by constantly criticizing me.
     "So march in there and tell him to pack his stuff, for you're taking
him down to the bus station right away. You have to stay right there with
him and make him do everything. You back down, even for a little while, and
he'll skitter out from under you, slip right back in here on you. He's a
good-for-nothing weasel, and you need to treat him like that, get me?"
     "Yes, dear."
     "I'm leaving now, so you won't have him appealing to me." Lula took
her head scarf and tied it about her auburn locks. It made her look very
much like a Russian babushka woman, big, long skirt, large breasts, big
arms, round face. Big, kind, loving...and formidable. "Now, get that
good-for-nothing out of here. Be good for something yourself for a change."
     And with that, she left and I steeled myself for the ordeal I was
about to endure. Jim had never, even from the start, acted like a house
guest, he acted like the lord of the manor. Ordering me and Lula about with
peremptory commands, never saying "please" or "thank you" even once. He
would not take being told to leave very well, I was sure of that.
     I resolved to see if he was awake first. If he was asleep, I would let
him remain so until he awoke of his own accord. Being awakened was certain
to put him in a foul mood, I didn't want to start with any more of that
than I had to. Maybe if he was in a good mood when I began talking, I could
get it all out before he got angry entirely.
     So instead of knocking, I quietly turned the doorknob on his bedroom
door and opened it as softly as I could. There was only enough room between
the wall and the bed for the door to swing wide open, I was immediately
looking down on Jim. He was lying in his bed on his back, snoring, sprawled
with arms and legs at wide angles, covering the entire bed, his covers had
fallen awry, only a triangle of the blanket still lay over his body. It
didn't cover much, enough to show me very clearly two things...he was naked
and he had an erection.
     I was relieved, I didn't have to confront him right now. I could
wait. Meanwhile....
     I could see most of his body, only his crotch area was covered and
that inadequately by his erection tenting out the blanket. I'd spent
innumerable hours studying Jim's body over the last months, surreptitiously
while we sat watching television or such, but this was the best look at him
I'd ever had. Dear Lord, if I'd been born with the body Jim had, I would
never have had one tenth of the troubles I have borne every day of my life!
Large boned, he stood at six foot four inches tall (fourteen inches more
than my own five foot two), his arms were thick and powerful, his chest,
rising and falling, was a gigantic mountain of flesh above the sleek, taut
concavity of his stomach, all of this man-land was covered in majestic
stands of thick hair that encircled each peak of his nipples and filled the
furrow of his midline. All of his skin was a deep golden color that just
escaped any brown shading, like he was a tawny god living in my own home.
     He moaned, stirred, and his hand raised up. Not entirely awake, it
circled one button of a nipple with the fingertips, pinched it lazily, then
the fingers meandered downwards, stroking and caressing his body as it
went, traveling toward the tower of manhood awaiting its attentions, his
hand pushed the last sliver of covers aside, baring his entire body, and
then the hand gripped its target, pulled mightily at the long pud, I saw
the shining beacon of precome at its tip enlarge and grow into a full globe
that....
     "What the hell?" came his startled voice.
     Awake! I looked up into angry eyes, pale blue but sparking with the
fire of ire, and I jerked backwards a half-step, wet my lips.
     "What the hell you doing in here looking at me?"
     "I'm sorry." I said hastily. "I wanted to speak with you, so I came in
to see if you were asleep and you were so...."
     "So you were getting a good look at a real man, huh?" Jim hadn't
turned loose of his cock all this time, it was still thick and hard and
reddened at the tip from his squeezing the shaft.
     "I'm sorry." I said again and forced my eyes to turn away from that
raging dong. God, if I had that pud, I'd be playing with it every morning,
too! Green with envy, I turned to go.
     "Wait. Where the hell you going?"
     "I thought I should let you...have some privacy." I stammered.
     "The hell with that. You wanted to say something to me? So go the hell
ahead."
     I turned back, but he was laying on the bed and stroking his pud while
he looked at me, a mean sneer to his lips. Showing himself off to me. "But
you're busy."
     "I can listen to you while I do this. So go ahead and get whatever it
is off your chest, while I get off what I need to get off."
     That angered me just enough to let me say what I had to say. "I came
in here to tell you that Lulu and I want you out of this house. We want you
to pack your stuff and leave. Today. Right now."
     "Thought that's what you were going to say." came his unexpected
answer. Not at all angry, calm even. He didn't even stop yanking his
pud. "No."
     "No?"
     "No. I'm not leaving. Suck on that a while."
     "But...but you have to leave."
     "Why?"
     I wasn't ready for an argument like this! I could only parrot my
wife. "Because you're good for nothing."
     "I'm what?"
     I was stuck with it. "Good for nothing. Lula says you're good for
nothing."
     "Good. For. Nothing."
     "Yes. That's what Lula says, and that's why you can't stay." I
nattered on. I'd made an impression on him, he wasn't jerking his pud any
longer. Just holding it.
     "So if I was good at something, I could stay here?" He asked after a
moment. His hand began to slowly pump on his shaft again.
     "Yes, yes!" I said quickly. "If you were good at something, Lula would
let you stay. She's just unhappy how you sit around and never do anything."
     "I am good at something."
     I looked back at his face. Licked my lips again. "Yes?"
     "Yeah, I'm real good at something." Jim rose up and a big paw of a
hand grabbed me by the arm and yanked me down toward the bed. "I'm really
good at this."
     Yawping in panic, I found myself on my knees beside the bed, my face
thrust at his crotch. "Get yourself a good taste of it, Stu." Jim was
rubbing my face on his penis, the hot slimy shaft like warm velvet on my
cheek and lips and nose. "Go ahead, chow down, you know you want to."
     The smell of his crotch was...intoxicating. So completely and
unabashedly male, like it was the very source of what made Jim such a
vigorously masculine animal. I hesitated. God, I could now if I wanted to,
I could, I could!
     "Go on, suck on it, you little man-bitch." Jim growled. "Show you what
I'm good for."
     Between his male aroma and his dominating, alpha-male tone, something
in little beta-me gave up. I opened my mouth and his glans slipped into it
as easily as if it had been formed to fit there. Jim didn't give me a
chance to relish the flavor, though, he shoved down hard on my head and
rammed it deep into my throat. I'd never done such a thing before,
obviously, but it wasn't so hard to deal with beyond a certain amount of
desire to gag and choke on the heavy meat now lodged in my gullet. Jim
shoved that dong in my mouth all the way to the base and held it there,
marveling, "Damn, you took the whole fucking thing! I'd figured you for a
cocksucker, but damn!"
     I did gag then, and he relented, let me rise up but held me from
releasing all of it. "Get to sucking me, faggot, you got a long ways to go
still."
     I obeyed, moving my lips up and down his dong in the way I'd always
tried to get Lula to do for me and she never would. She would just make a
few half-hearted bobs up and down on the head and a bit of the shaft, then
let go, say "That's enough of that," and there I was, left with only the
hint of what could have been. But not me, I gave that huge man-tool all the
loving it deserved! Jim interrupted me by pulling my pullover shirt over my
head, I was only wearing it and a pair of loose sweatshorts on this
Saturday morning. With it gone, he let me resume feasting upon his
man-banquet and when he twisted around to peel my shorts off, he didn't
even make me miss a stroke.
     But when I was as nude as he was, Jim said, "All right, that ought to
do it. Now get up on this bed, you lousy cocksucker."
     I figured he'd want to suck on me, a bit of turnaround is just fair,
isn't it? So I got into the bed beside him and he rolled his large body on
top of me, I felt him grabbing my legs, scooping them into the bends of his
elbows, lifting my lower body up and I realized in sudden fear, looking
into his flaming eyes, what he intended to do. "No, oh, oh, no!" I gasped
out and then he was in position and I felt the fiery glans all slimy with
my saliva knocking at my nether entrance.
     Again, he didn't give me any time to adjust or accommodate him, he
simply shoved at me hard and drove it into me. There was no sense of it
fitting me this time, he ripped into me and I howled as that massive ramrod
broke every ass-cherry I'd ever had. "Ow-ow-owwwwwoooo!" I yelped.
     "Shut up and take it, you skank." Jim growled at me as he shoved in
deeper. "I'm good for nothing, am I? Well, see how good I am at doing
this!" And he had himself buried and didn't pause for a moment, but began
to fuck at my ass.
     My yells of pain damped down into moans. I dimly realized that, all
the pain notwithstanding, he hadn't damaged me all that much. I'd been
forced to expand along my lowest bowel section (whatever that's called) but
it hadn't torn per se. It was uncomfortable as hell, but as he moved, my
body's moisture seeped in and began to smooth over the ravaged areas and
grease the way in general. The spit on his cock from my mouth helped in
that, too. As the pain ended, there was left in its place the undeniable
pleasure that comes from being taken fully by a man such as Jim, the joy of
having a strong man's temple of joy imbedded in you, that strokes a place
that is sensitive beyond explanation and sends waves of ecstasy racing
through your very core...and you are lost forever.
     As my pain sounds began to morph into pleasure sounds, Jim laughed
into my face, a hard, rough sound. "I knew you were a fudge-packer!" He
crowed at the delight being wrung from my body by his dong. "I knew if I
ever got it in you, you'd moan and beg for more! Come on, ass-wipe, beg for
it, beg me to fuck you. Come on, beg for it or I'll take it out of you." He
said this last while having the entire length rammed fully inside me, so
that my entire universe was of his cock inside of me.
     So naturally I complied. "Please fuck me, Jim. Please!"
     "You can beg better than that!" He gave a quick hunch of his hips into
me to remind me what I was missing.
     "Oh, God, please fuck me!" I immediately cried out. A cry that was
from my very soul. "Please fuck me, Jim, I have to have it, I need it, I
want it, I have to have it! Please, man, PLE-E-E-E-ASE!"
     "That's more like it." Jim began to hunch at me again and I keened in
my pleasure. "Now keep it up, keep asking for it, or I might change my
mind!"
     "I need you, I need you, Jim!" I whined. "Please keep fucking me, I
need you so bad, I haven't had anything worth having from your aunt, I need
some real loving, give me some real loving!"
     "Yeah, you're not enough of a man to keep a woman like her satisfied,
I'm not surprised." Jim grunted. "You need some lessons in pleasing and I'm
just the one to teach you how. You just watch how I do it and learn!"
     "Oh, yes, teach me, fuck me hard like you're supposed to." I
panted. "Show me how to do it, show me how!"
     "Like this, uh, and this, uh, and this!" Jim made three hard, long
thrusts into me. And damned if that didn't feel better than all his hard
ramming before!
     "Oh, God, yeah, do it more, more, please, more!"
     "Here! You! Go! You! Lousy! Fucking! Man! Cunt!" Jim grunted as he
fucked me in those same deep jabbing motions. "You! Fuck! Them! Like!
This!"
     "Oh, I'm coming, I'm coming!" I yodeled. "Oh, oh,
AGH-AH-AH-AH-AHHHHHH!" And I sprayed Jim with my spunk as I ejaculated.
     He felt the hot splashes hitting him and he roared, "You fucking
bastard! I didn't tell you you could come yet! Now you're going to pay for
that!" And the force of his man-ram battering my ass was enough to shake
not only the bed, but the very walls of the house! I was still in the
throes of my climax and beyond any resistance, he force-fucked my butt and
as my own orgasm sank and was gone, his struck him.
     His face was already wrenched up in his anger, his face flushed a
bright, fiery red and he clenched his teeth and creased up his eyes and
from his throat oozed a deep guttural sound of raw male
rut. "NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!"
     And I felt the hot flood of his jizz pouring into me. Oh, God, it
turned me on all over again, the look on his face of hot lust mixed with
his rage, knowing that my ass had given him this. He'd done the pushing in
and out of me, yes, but without my ass to push it in and out of, he
wouldn't have made it to this state of ecstasy. I held to him, exhausted
but enduring and he hunched my raw-hamburger butt with his dong and after
every last dreg of his spunk had been spilled into me, he fell onto me
heavily and panted hard.
     I lay under him, having trouble breathing but unwilling to disturb him
and after a time, he raised up on his hands and looked down at me. "Still
think I'm not good for anything?"
     I started to admit my error when sheer self-interest pointed out a
better answer. "I'd say it all depends on just how often you can do this
before Lula gets home tonight."
     He made a slow smile. "Let's keep track and find out."
     And his cock stiffened inside my ass again.
     Lula was furious when she got home that night and saw that Jim was
still firmly entrenched in front of the television set. She packed her bags
and moved back in with her mother just like she'd threatened.
     But that was all right; Jim moved into my bedroom as soon as she was
gone. And every night, he proves to me over and over again just how "good
for something" a hard-fucking man really is!

                             THE END
               Comments, complaints or suggestions?
             E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM