Date: Sat, 26 Feb 2011 23:02:01 -0800 (PST) From: MUSCLEDADDY BEAR <muscle_daddy_bear@yahoo.com> Subject: Discovering Uncle Tip 2 This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental. The sexuality of all characters is entirely a figment of the author's imagination. For those of you that are NOT of legal age, please find other material to read. If you are offended by male/male material, or it is illegal to view such materials in your area, you should be leaving at this time. This story may contain scenes of a graphic nature between father and his sons, or under age boys and adult males, which may not be legal in your area. If you are under 18 or material of this nature is illegal in your present location, please leave now. 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Still, though, getting a couple of six-packs and driving in and around town with a couple buddies was about all there was to do. Helping my uncle overhaul his auto-shop after school was mom's idea, NOT mine. Nothing even close to the weeked my folks had gone out of town had ever happened again with Uncle Tip. Though he was still my favorite uncle and my idol, helping him clean out and reorganize his shop bottomed out my list of things I wanted to do after school and through the weekend. I got there in the beat-up old truck my dad had passed onto me at my sixteenth birthday. I parked over to the side where Uncle Tip kept the cast -off vehicles he often scrounged into for parts. I walked up to the three-bay garage that was his shop, but didn't see him right off. The third bay was the one with bottom dug out underneath creating an area to work on a vehicle from underneath without lifting it up on hydraulics. That's where I found him working on a late model, three-quarter ton, dual- wheeled pick-up. "Hey, Uncle Tip." I said, as I walked underneath the truck. "Oh, hey, Mr. Donahue, 'bout time you showed up." "I just dropped off my books, n' came right over." "Hell, boy, I'm jus' fuckin' with ya...though, the dress code at that schoolhouse must'a changed since I went there." "Oh...yeah...I forgot. I changed clothes, too. You said t' wear something I could ruin." He chuckled, "I'm jus' messin' with ya still. Git over to the office 'n bring us back a couple beers. I'll polish this one off before y' get back." "Score! I'll be right back!" Those were two more reasons I loved Uncle Tip. He never omitted the cuss words when I was around, and he felt if I was old enough to hang out with the adults...I ought to be able to drink with them, too. Though after some accident early in his life involving drinking and driving, he was adamant about not driving after downing a few brews. He set down the socket wrench when I got back from "the office," popped the top off the bottle, traded it for mine, popped off that cap, clinked his bottle against mine, and downed half of it right off. "Ahhhhhhh, good stuff after a long day. Ricky Halverson brought this bastard in a few hours ago after bottoming it out n' crackin' the transmission pan." He tipped his head up to indicate the truck above us. "He needs it back fast, so here I am bustin' ass t' get it done before nightfall." "We won't get t' workin' on the shop t'night, but we jus' might get this bad boy straightened out in time with you helpin' me," he continued, "So, drink up, son, n' let's getta move on!" "Yes sir, Mr. Reynolds," I grinned and teased him back on the Mr. Donahue joke as he did have a huge bushy mustache that grew all the way down his neck as if he looked ANYTHING like Burt Reynolds. "Just get me what I ask for," he said as he went back to work reaching up into the undercarriage, "n' we oughta jet right through this." As my eyes were movin' down to the waist-high toolbox, the landed on the crotch of his coveralls. There was a horizontal rip just below where the zipper ended. It seemed to go quite a ways around the back of his leg as it gaped open enough to be noticable as he moved. Nothing hung out or anything, but a twinge of sexual excitement ran through me seeing his hairy thigh through the opening. He was pretty hot in a Wednesday-night wrestler kind of way. Wavy dark auburn hair an inch past his collar and dropping down in his eyes, squinting grey eyes under heavy dark brows, huge auburn mustache framing a rugged jaw, and that towering powerhouse body all added up! He'd cut the sleeves off his coveralls at the shoulders, and I was drawn to staring at his arms while he worked the socket wrench removing bolts. His shoulders, biceps, and forearms flexed under a sheen of sweat. What really caught my attention, though, was the fur covering the back of his massive hands and growing up to his elbows. Dark, thick, and curly, it seemed to stand three-quarters of an inch from the skin. I began to wonder what it would feel like to touch. He brought me out of my daze, though, and put me to work before I could consider the thought any further. It was a couple hours and several beer later when we had the truck repaired and ready for Ricky Halverson to pick up. "Good job, champ," Uncle Tip jerked the zipper on his coveralls down below his waist and shucked them off his shoulders to hand down the back of his legs. He clamped a strong meaty paw on my shoulder and directed me up the incline to street-level saying, "Now, it's REALLY Miller time! Head for the office, boy!" Uncle Tip's "office" was a screened in porch through the back door of the shop. His house was directly behind with a privacy fence enclosing the back yard from the back of the house to the back of the shop. There was a file cabinet with a calculator, a cup with pens, a cooler always stocked with beer and ice, and an old glass-topped patio table with two high-backed patio chairs. We grabbed a couple fresh ones and dropped into opposite chairs. He asked about school, my summer job, and generally just "shot the shit" as we polished of a few more brews. And after a while, he plopped one leg up on the table and dropped his head back against the back of the chair. I went to shift positions when I got a look into his crotch. I'd completely forgotten about the tear in his coveralls and had just been trying not to stare at his broad fur-covered chest and tight belly. Now though, as I looked over through the glass top of the table, I saw his balls slowly slide out the gape in the fabric and roll down to hang just to the chair seat. If that wasn't enough, the gape gave me a clear view of about two inches of thick flaccid cock draping down his thigh..the firm fat head of it outlined clearly through the fabric several inches past the rip! I sat there mesmerized, staring...not noticing I'd reached under my own jean cut-offs and had begun stroking my own dick. Since I skipped wea- ring underwear as much as possible lately, I had easy access. When he started snoring softly, I knew I was going to do it. It was like I had no choice. I got up slowly and silently, setting my empty beer bottle quietly on the concrete floor. I stepped over to him and placed one hand close to his beer as if to take it in case he woke up. With the other, I lightly stroked the curling hair on his forearm I'd been so fascinated by earlier. Then, I moved to the bristly hair on his chest...running my hand over the mat of springy curls. I'd seen him twisting his own nipple while beating off in the shower, so I grazed my fingers over the tight nub of one. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his crotch jump and balls pull up before dropping back down. The soft snoring continued, and so did my exploration of his dozing body! I leaned closer into the outdoorsy smell of his body and sweat. I moved my face to his chest inhaling that rich scent of working man and stuck my tongue out to stroke the nipple closet to me. I tasted salt. Just simple clean salt. Mixed with the smell of his humid body, though, it spurred me on even further. Not knowing how I would explain it if he woke up, I knelt down between his wide-spread legs anyway. I grabbed the chair legs for support, and leaned in. As my nose neared his balls, I blew out a stream of air to test how asleep he was....there was no change in his snoring, though his cock flexed again and his balls raised and lowered powerfully. I tried again with a stronger stream of air, achieving the same results. Feeling more confident Uncle Tip was fully asleep and knowing if I waited till he was fully hard I would never get his cock out of his coveralls, I leaned in and gave the exposed area a long lick to see if I could coax it out of the opening with just my tongue. No dice. He was already pretty firm and hauling around a pretty hefty slab of mule-meat. I leaned back and gingerly reached in with my thumb and forefinger wrapping them lightly around his growing meat. Seeing it was going to take more effort, I reached for the ripped opening and gently worked it lower down his leg attempting to free the hefty tube of flesh in my hand. Finally, out flopped the biggest cock I'd ever seen..but, this time is was inches from my face!! It looked like three-quarters of a ruler long, which meant nine-plus inches and not yet fully hard, and thicker than the cardboard inside of a roll of paper towels! I didn't stop to consider what I was doing. I was so turned on, it didn't matter if it was gay or not, I had to taste that fat cock! I moved closer, blue-collar musk rising from Uncle Tip's sweat cock and balls. His thick slab of sweaty meat flexed and slumped against my nose. My eyes rolled back from the solid contact and slid closed. I opened my lips as I slid my nose up the heft of his cock until the head of it rested on my lower lip. My tongue reached out and caressed the underside of his mushroom -head. It jumped in my mouth as I closed my lips tightly and felt something warm and salty dribble over my tongue. Knowing there was no way I could stop at just this, I began to slide my mouth onto his hardening shaft. The feel of the soft silky skin over the steel- hard core made me ache to jack myself off right then and there! Still, I wanted more from my first contact with a man. The fact that it was a man I both loved and idolized somehow put me more at ease, though I would have expected the opposite. Him waking up with his nephew's mouth slurping over his thick heavy meat suddenly didn't seem to matter. So, I pushed forward and buried as much of my uncle's bearish cock in my mouth as it would take. When it hit the back of my throat, I just held it there rolling my tongue over the satiny surface. I slid back off and just looked at that mammoth uncle- cock swaying in front of my face...shiny with a thick layer of my own spit...a strand still connected to my lips and stretching downward. It was so fucking hot, I swooped back down on and pressed it past the back of my throat and down inside. I made it all the way to pressing my nose into the rip in his coveralls till it was nestled in the dense bush of stud-crotch at the base. That's when I noticed it. Uncle Tip wasn't going commando as I'd assumed. Gathered against the other side of his cock and balls was a jock that'd been pulled to the side to leave his tool to swing free. He knew I was coming over, had he down that for me? No, that didn't make any sense. Why not just go naked under the coveralls to begin with? No, it probably wasn't intentional. He'd probably just gone to piss and not bothered to stuff everything back in. I pulled back off and then pressed back in, forcing it back down my thoat. As I closed and opened my throat around one of his hands reached up and sleepily brushed the back of my head before dropping back down to his own thigh. This happened twice as I heard him mumble, "Unhhh, unhhh..." and his cock suddenly began to unload in my throat. I pulled back until it began filling my mouth instead of my belly...spilling out the corners. Hell, I thought I came a lot!! But, Uncle Tip...fuck...it just kept pouring out faster than I could swallow. I'd heard cum tasted bitter, but his was just thick and salty, and just a little sweet. It was nothing like I expected and I wanted more! Luckily, I got it!! I had it running down my chin and neck, still swallowing furiously, before he finally slowed down to a few generous dribbles. I'd gotten so carried away, I'd forgotten to beat myself off. I sat back on my heals and looked up into Uncle Tip's rugged handsome face. He wasn't snoring, but still breathing deeply and evenly. The expression on his face blank and relaxed...nothing to show he was at all aware of what just happened. As I reached for my cock, I saw a flash of read through the window of the back door to the garage. A trick of the light I guessed and went back to beating off as I looked at my tall stud of an uncle sprawled back in the chair with his monster cock and balls laying heavily on the seat. I leaned forward, pressing my nose into his thick sausage and balls, getting drunk on the smell of sweat, spit, and cum. I beat off furiously until the telltale tingle started spreading upward from my balls. I sat back on my heals again, and began to spew on the concrete in front of me. As my balls finally emptied completely, I stood up on shakey legs. I looked down at Uncle Tip and my own mess on the patio floor thinking I should get a few paper towels from the shop and clean it up before he woke. I looked across the yard as I pulled the leg of my shorts back down over my deflating dick and noticed something red above waist height through the cedar fencing. As soon as I noticed it, though, it moved up the fenceline and disappeared where the fence met the shop. I blew it off, grabbed some papertowels, cleaned up the floor, and was tossing the towels when the service bell rang for just a second. I wiped my hands again and went to the front of the shop. Ricky Halverson was leaning against the doorframe as I walked up. Beat-up John Deere cap, shaggy collar length hair, full dark untrimmed beard, and a bully-physique chewing a piece of hay and staring down at me oddly as I reached him. "Yore uncle got my truck ready, boy?" he demanded. "Yes sir, finished it a while ago." "You got the bill ready for me, I gotta get back t' the house." "Um, no. I don't think Uncle Tip wrote one out yet." He stood up to his full height, almost as tall as my uncle, and stepped up to me so out chests were almost touching as he looked down at me with a weird look in his eye. "Well then, I s'pose I'm jus' gonna have t' come back t'morrow then, huh? Finishing with a raised eyebrow. "I guess so," I said, confused and uncomfortable. "Oh, I KNOW so..." Then he changed gears and attitude, talking normally, "Oh hey now. Is yore uncle gonna bartend at the monthly barndance t'morrow?" "Yeah, he always doesss...he hasn't said anything about NOT doin' it." "Well, good...n' you'll be there too, I s'pose?" "Yes sir, I'm old enough t' drink." He chuckled, "Well now, aint that good t' hear. Now, how 'bout you get your lil' bunny-tail in gear n' git my keys, boy." "Yes sir." (Bunnytail???) What the hell, I wondered as I went to the key hooks and grabbed the ones for his truck. When I came back, he watched me walk up with his weight on one foot, hips cocked to one side, and a leer on his face as he raked me up and down with lazy brown eyes. He just stood there for a minute when I held his keys out before he opened the palm of the hand that was hanging down at his crotch. I looked down and went to put the keys there when I saw the unmistakable bulge of a long firm cock arching horizontally from the zipper almost all the way to the other side of his leg! The faded almost-white worn- out denim stretched out as the cock undeneath flexed when the keys hit his palm. "See ya t'morrow," he said as my eyes flew up to his knowing grin. He turned and strode to his truck as my mind raced in shock and noticed for the first time the red flannel shirt stretched across his back ! ! !