Date: Tue, 28 Apr 2015 20:31:17 -0700
From: Jon Hold <jonhold@earthlink.net>
Subject: Cousin Buzz

Cousin Buzz

Jon Hold

Copyright  ©2003, 2015 by the author

Jonhold@earthlink.net


Thick, heavy cock. Fucking me senseless. My cousin was at it again. Tearing
my ass up as only a youth in rut could. Fucking me. Humping me. Screwing my
brains out with never a thought for mercy or my survival. Fucking as young
men fuck. Fucking to feel good and to get a nut. Fucking with all the
athleticism of a High School Jock in rut. Fucking my sore ass with wild
abandon. Forcing me to submit to his lust. Forcing me to open myself to
him. Forcing me to swallow the spit he kept dropping into my mouth and take
his cum up my overused and wildly abused ass. Forcing me to beg for
more. Forcing me to love it. Forcing me to crave his cock. Crave his fat
cockhead. Crave his ass-reaming butt-humping teenaged cock-fuck. Forcing me
to crave him. Crave his cock. Crave his cock in my ass, fucking, humping,
grabbing me and pulling me and fucking me until I had to scream for mercy
while trying to urge him onto ever greater depravities.

The summer I was 56 I spent traveling through the Southern states, visiting
my family and doing genealogical research. I'd never met most of those
people before, but invariably they invited me into their homes and made me
feel "to home." They'd let me plug my motorhome into their
electricity. They'd cook the old family recipes for me and tell me their
lore of family stories. It was mostly the young and the old who were really
interested in their families. Those in their 30's and 40's and 50's were
busy with careers and raising families. Making Genealogy. But they were
still invariably kind and polite, showing a definite interest, if not in
doing the research, at least in the results. Oohing and aaahing over seeing
themselves and their children and their generations in the computer.

Buzz was a tall, quiet boy. Nineteen and not nearly as rowdy as the rest of
the boys in this family enclave. After everyone else had left that first
evening he knocked at my door and wanted to know if he could ask some
questions. We got to taking and I showed him how the computer worked and
some of the things I used it for in my research. I switched on the
automatic dish on the roof and we listened to it buzzing and whirring as it
looked for, found, and locked on to its satellite of choice. Then we talked
about genealogy and how I dug up the information I had found and I
introduced him to the internet.

A quiet boy, Buzz was loved and admired by his family, his siblings, aunts
and uncles and many cousins, but he didn't seem to exhibit the same sort
of, well, almost reckless abandon that seemed to be the other males
overriding trait. At 6', 2" he was a tall boy, but without the beefy
chunkiness so prevalent in our family. Palely blond, his piercing
green/blue eyes marked him as predator, not prey, and the others respected
that, even if he was the quiet oddity in the bunch. he could, and did work
as hard as any of the others, and was more efficient in his movements and
style. What's more, he was a genuinely likable kid. A year out of High
School, he was still undecided about what to do with his life, just sort of
drifting along, working with his father and brothers and enjoying life.

I stayed with them almost three weeks and was very happy with all the
recorded material I'd found at the county seat and historical society, and
even more happy with the collection of stories and interviews I'd
collected. The night before I was going to leave, Buzz came to visit, as
had become our habit.

"Cousin Jon. Ya'll leaving' in the mornin'."

"Yeah, Buzz. That's the plan."

After some fumbling around, and hemming and hawing, "Recon you could use
some help with your research, maybe just 'til the end of summer?"

Careful to keep my mental gears from screeching out loud, I quickly shifted
into emergency high gear. I was a closet queen and, because of my war
experiences, really didn't like sharing my living space. And this
ex-Highschool jock was drop dead gorgeous. I'd already whacked off several
times thinking about him. Could I trust myself with this rednecked
offspring of the Old South, or would his close proximity (I've got a big
motorhome, but not THAT big) drive me bonkers.

Grabbing for time to think, "Well, I don't know Buzz. What do your parents
think?"

"Not that it matters that much, but they think I'm old enough to do what I
wanna do. Seriously, Cousin Jon, I wouldn't be no trouble. I got money for
my own food and stuff and I can help keep the motorhome clean (I'm
noticeably not THAT good a housekeeper). I can cook some and most of all,
I'd really like to learn all that book stuff you do..."

Well, that sort of left me with a choice between taking him along or
kicking the owner of those big, pleading puppy-eyes out of my motorhome.

Breakfast consisted mostly of watching Buzz bouncing around like some sort
of demented wind-up toy and listening to his parents tell me that he wasn't
no more than a big, grown-up kid and that I should put him across my knee
whenever I thought he needed it. He was in and out of the motorhome 50
times before we finally managed to say good-bye to everyone and head back
up the dirt trace to the State road.

Our first couple of weeks were spent in getting used to each other and
learning how to live together. Buzz really was a quiet boy, and I more than
enjoyed his company. My bedroom was in the back of the motorhome with my
own radio/cassette/tape player, TV, and Queen-sized (what else?) bed. Buzz
used the fold-down couch up front for a bed, and hence inherited the big
TV, the big stereo and the refrigerator. The bathroom was
in-between
us, open to my side but with a door closing off his side. The sight of him
coming out of the shower/commode room wearing nothing but a damp towel
would just about make me crazy, and then he'd always wish me a good night
in that soft southern drawl of his, leaving me with a need to crank up the
radio or TV so I could wank my dick senseless. Sometimes I was pretty sure
I could feel the motorhome moving as he cranked his shaft, especially if I
hadn't put the levelers down, which I began to neglect to do quite often.

At 56 and 19 we were more like father and son than cousins, but we got
along really well.

Then Buzz got hurt. Oh, nothing earthshaking. Mostly he just came off the
back of a horse a lot more spirited than the nags he was used to, right in
front of a girl he was trying to impress. It was sort of hard to tell which
got hurt worse, his ankle or his pride. I did my best to limit my laughter
to a few friendly pats on the back. Listening to him moan getting out of
the shower induced me to put the naked boy on my hard mattressed bed. I
worked my way through graduate school doing massage therapy and gave my
cousin the free benefit of all my training. Many happy moans and groans of
pleasure attended my work as I acquainted my cousin with the best I had to
offer. A few moans of my own joined his when I rolled him on his back and a
massively thick 11+" truncheon went waiving through the air, spreading
clear cock-snot like a leaky dick. I finished Buzz's massage in a bit of a
trance.

"It's a big one, ain't it, Cousin Jon?"

"Huh?" I said. Shaking my head. Coming back from whatever mindspace I'd
been lost in as I stared at Buzz's buzzer.

He just laughed. "You ain't the first one to get sidetracked by that big
thing. Stroke it up if you wanna see it hard. That's REALLY a sight to
see."

Almost uncontrollably I reached towards Buzz's midsection before jerking my
hand back.

"Don't worry about it, Cuz." he said, rubbing my bare leg. "Lot's of guys
have felt that thing up real good. No reason you shouldn't, seein' as how
we're cousins n' all."

Somehow I had a feeling that maybe Buzz wasn't quite the innocent I thought
he was. In fact, the way he was urging me on made me pretty damn sure he
was't no innocent at all. Like I had no control over it, my hand reached
and grasped. I gasped at the thick heat that filled my hand long before my
fingers could meet. A low, growling acceptance was all I heard from the boy
until I slid my handful of velvety supple skin up over the massive head,
which, even in it's soft state, forced my hand even more open. A
deep-chested moan wended it's way out of the boys chest as I spiraled my
hand completely down the long shaft, the same skin never leaving my
hand. As my fist ground into the teen's thick pubes his full foreskin
opened, showing the weeping, spurting nose that had created all the clear
slime that started pouring over the loose skin and down the shaft.

I couldn't waste it! Without thinking about it I reared forward and plunged
my mouth down over the wet mass, forcing the foreskin completely back as
the now naked glans filled my mouth. "I'm going to have to teach this boy
how to wash properly," raced through my mind as my tongue smushed big cots
of loose smegma. Normally, I would have been revolted. But Buzz tasted so
fucking good! and then his cock snapped to attention, erecting fully in one
huge surge from his heart and contracting muscles. His cockhead totally
filled my mouth, locking my jaws and making it impossible for me to get
loose. His corona was inflamed and locked behind my teeth. I was well and
truly hooked on the barb of life.

A work hardened hand explored my face, Buzz marveling at my wide-stretched
jaw muscles and the bulge of his cockhead inflating my cheeks. His big hand
spread across the back of my head, holding me solidly as his wide-open eyes
begged me for forgiveness, his moan proclaiming the lizard-brain in the
base of his skull had taken charge. One --- tentative --- hump. Then,
moaning aloud at the feeling, a crushing thrust --- that went nowhere. And
another that confirmed the cockhead was locked in place. Every muscle in
his body straining, his legs arched back, the tendons in his groin standing
out in high relief as his back arched and, with a scream, he snapped
forward, his legs grabbing my body, his torso arching over my head, his
muscles straining until the entrance to my throat was well and truly
plugged. And then I came as close to drowning-suffocation as I could
without actually dying. His sperm erupted in a huge wad that split against
the back of my throat. My gullet filled, the back-pressure shot steaming
teen cum out of my nose and all over the shaft of the huge cock plugging my
mouth. Twice... and then a third explosion in rapid succession. Just as I
thought I might get a breath a fourth explosion filled me yet again, throat
and nose alike. A fifth and sixth powerful wad saw me graying out and I
just barely noticed the fantastic power of the seventh huge eruption as
Buzz went into total tetany and emptied the last of his effusion down my
throat and out of my nose.

I woke with Buzz doing my breathing for me. What a warm, languorous
feeling, laying there held in the embrace of a hot, hard teen-aged body;
warm, full lips covering mine. I smiled and looked into his worried
eyes. Laughing with pleasure and sheer good feelings put my arms around his
neck and kissed him so deeply we both almost passed out. Still laughing,
gasping for air, I told him how wonderful he was. He cried and tried to
apologize for loosing control. I tried to convince him that, as far as I
was concerned, he could loose control any damn time he wanted. He protested
and I told him to shut up and kiss me some more. He finally shut up and got
busy.

I had my hands all over his body and it didn't take him long to figure out
that it was OK for him to do the same. We talked. About his previous
failures at having sex, his partners running (sometimes literally) from
him. The teasing he had taken and the embarrassing events that just seemed
to happen.

Buzz moved in with me after his parents died. Sorta. Actually I bought his
parents farm and the one next to it and moved in with him.  He has matured
into 6'-5", 240 pounds of sculpted hard-work muscle. He is the son I never
had. A son who keeps his "Daddy" very happy and content.