Date: Thu, 23 Mar 2006 17:58:13 -0800 (PST)
From: Arnold Layne <arnoldlayne69@yahoo.com>
Subject: lazy bastard

** More stories:  http://www.bacteriaburger.com **

Lazy Bastard
By Bacteriaburger

      Granny and Aunt Sheila were going shopping, leaving Sheila's husband
Tony alone, with me.
      "Try getting off the couch for a change of pace, ya lazy bastard,"
Aunt Sheila snarled to her hubby on her way out the door.  He raised his
head for a moment, then laid it back down on the white leather sofa and
continued flipping through the channels.
      For someone who acted so lazy--and he did act lazy--his body didn't
reflect it.  His lean legs were muscled and toned.  His shorts were
scrunched up and revealed a tantalizing amount of his inner thighs, which
were dusted with fine dark hairs.
      His muscled chest was broad under his thin white t-shirt (his
minimalist outfit designed to beat the summer heat even in my Granny's
overly air-conditioned house).  His roped arms stretched back, his hand ran
through the long dark hair on his head.
      Yeah, I was definitely hot for my Aunt Sheila's husband.  But as far
as he seemed to be concerned, I may as well have not even been in the room.
Tony didn't like to visit Granny's, and he made his displeasure clear by
avoiding us at all costs, and keeping his eyes trained on the big-screen
TV.
      He flipped channels until he found a rerun of some shitty action
movie.  We watched it in silence.  Tony shifted, sighed, and I watched his
every move out of the corner of my eye.
      Then he turned his head toward me.  He actually looked at me.
      "You going to the kitchen?" is what he said.
      "Uh, sure."
      "Can you get me a pop?"
      "Yeah," I said, hopping up like a good nephew.  I headed into the
kitchen, grabbed two sodas, and went back to the living room.  When I
handed it to Tony he didn't say thanks, or even smile; just sat up enough
so he wouldn't spill pop all over himself and cracked it open; gulped it
down.
      He set the can on the floor and all I could think about was how
pissed off Granny would be if she knew Tony was setting a drink on her new
carpet.  I sat back down and waited to see if Tony would speak to me again.
      He put his hand on his stomach, lifting up his shirt just enough that
I could see the taut, olive-toned skin of his belly, also covered with that
light dusting of fine, fine hair, that looked so inviting to touch.  I
imagined tasting it, the hair sliding naturally with the tongue; not
feeling course or wiry, but flowing with the grain of his skin.
      Tony's fingers crept under the waistband of his white shorts, the Al
Bundy move, casually enough that I couldn't interpret it as anything but
Tony absently wanting to feel himself.
      On TV, people screamed into the telephone, and things blew up.
      Tony's hand delved deeper into his shorts, scratching his pubes with
unselfconscious ease, the sound of it carrying back to me.  Suddenly, there
was a bulge in his shorts that I hadn't seen before.  The shape of a tube,
soft and fat, that rose like a little mound beneath his fingers.  Surely it
couldn't be.  And yet that was what it seemed.
      I stared hard.  He wasn't paying a lick of attention to me anyway.
The tube grew by imperceptible amounts, until it was a thick pipe, lying
along his thigh.  Nothing in Tony's manner suggested that he was even aware
of his growing hard-on, he kept his eyes glued to the screen, his face
expressionless.
      Then the shaft made a major shift, jumping on its own volition, the
head rising up and knocking against the waistband of his shorts.  He must
have realized what was happening, because he sat up and reached for his
soda.
      He brought it to his mouth.  As he gulped it down I watched his cock
throb once, twice, the mass of it making tiny jumps in his shorts in time
with his swallows.  He finished the soda and set it back down on the floor.
      "Hey, Billy," he said, almost like my name were foreign to him, like
he was afraid he might get it wrong.  "Is there more pop in there?"
      "Yeah, sure," I said, standing up and quickly turning around to hide
my erection.  I stood before the open fridge and took a deep breath.  I
took Tony's cold can of soda and pressed it to my erection.  It didn't do
much but make it a little less noticeable, at least I hoped.
      Tony had not changed position, but now the remote control was sitting
in his lap, right next to his boner.  I stood before him and handed him the
soda.  He held it in one hand, and looked me straight in the eye.
      "Thanks," he said.  "You can change the channel, if you want," he
added, looking down at his crotch.  My eyes followed his.  I gathered all
my courage, and reached for the remote in his lap, my fingertips brushing
the soft fabric of his shorts and giving me a hint of the heat and hardness
lying just beneath.
      I looked up at Tony.  He had his hands behind his head and his eyes
were closed.  I laid down my palm, half on the remote and half on his huge
boner.  I pressed down into its hardness and felt Tony press back,
thrusting his hips to meet my hand.
      I walked my fingers further down and found his nuts, hanging loosely
beneath his legs, his shorts bunching around them when I gathered them up
with my fingers.  I knelt down beside the couch.  Tony set the can of soda
on the table behind his head (it's going to leave a ring, I thought).
      He shifted his hips to accommodate me as I slid off his shorts.  His
erection appeared, like some sort of magic trick from under a handkerchief.
It was heavy and uncut, and it reached towards his stomach from a nest of
trimmed pubes.  I took his shorts all the way down his legs and Tony kicked
them off his feet, taking his shirt off at the same time.  I took a step
back in my mind and gazed at the man before me, unmatched in his
perfection.  Aunt Sheila had this in her bed every night, and still found
reason to be upset?  Pardon me, but what the fuck was her problem?
      Tony made no move, no sound as I lifted his heavy cock from his
stomach, stroking it just enough to pull the foreskin back from his glans,
revealing a pearly drop of pre-cum emerging at the tip.  I put my face in
his lap and inhaled his scent, which smelled like cologne and something
deeper and muskier.  I lifted his balls in my hand, felt the smooth but
hairy space underneath them.  Still, Tony didn't move.  For all I knew he
was convincing himself that all of this was some sort of fantastic dream.
      I took the head of him into my mouth and sucked off the nectar there.
Now I heard it, steady breathing from Tony that was becoming heavier.  I
pulled up his hood and sank my lips down his shaft, letting his fat cock
fill up my mouth as I attempted to take him all the way down to the balls.
I couldn't at first.
      I ran my hand up his muscled chest, tweaking his fat nipples, as my
head bobbed up and down in his lap.  I'd managed to get my lips down to the
base of his dick, and it remained ever hard and fat and juicy.  If this was
some kind of fantasy I never wanted it to end.
      I sucked on his balls, rolling his hot, loose sack around on my
tongue, sucking each nut gently into my mouth before going a few more laps
on his pole.  Tony's hips started to pump, ever so subtly in time with the
bobs of my head.  I repositioned myself to get better access, and snaked my
tongue into the space beneath his balls.  Lapping at his taint, I ground my
tongue against the hard root of his erection, the tip of my tongue writhing
closer and closer to the slick skin of his butthole.
      I put my hands under Tony's knees, and he got the hint and raised
them to his chest, bringing his dank and hairy asshole into view.  My one
hand pumped Tony's fat piece while the other held his balls out of the way,
making room for my nose as I snaked my tongue into his cologned asshole.
      His butthole was tight but receptive.  I dove my lips and tongue
inside and ate him out hungrily, like I was devouring a delicious Italian
meal in a lusty, vulgar way.  Tony, kept his knees steady against his
chest, giving me full access to his anus.  I dug my tongue in deep, loving
the taste of him.
      I took my mouth off Tony's ass and grabbed his balls tight in my
hand, sliding a sweaty salty fist up and down his shaft as I sucked his
cock.  Now I was going for the prize.  Tony still had his hands behind his
head, still had his eyes closed.  His hips moved slowly in time with my
mouth, his chest heaving heavier until his breath shuddered and a gasp
escaped his lips.
      I touched my finger to his butthole.  More gasps came from Tony.  His
nuts drew tight to his body, his cock grew impossibly harder, and with a
final stroke and suck, a big shot of load streamed up through the space
beneath his balls (his asshole contracting against my fingertip) and shot
out of his cock.
      It blew warm and sweet on my tongue.  I pressed my finger harder into
his asshole.  Tony's mouth opened, and something sounding like a moan
managed to creep out.  Another shot of load spilled on my tongue, and I
quickly swallowed what I had gathered so far.
      Another spurt and my fingertip somehow sank into him up to the second
knuckle.  Now this was a moan, undeniable and masculine and almost hotter
than the load that was searing my throat.  Two more torrents of gushing
come rushed down my throat, his asshole contracting each time.  And then it
was finished.
      His chest heaved as his breath struggled to catch up.  I took my
fingertip from his ass and stood up.
      I straddled his chest and took out my cock, beating it with firm
strokes.  Tony looked up at me, bewildered and maybe slightly angry; but I
was doing what I had to do and could've given a fuck if it somehow
concerned him.
      Tony must have seen that I was serious, because he laid right back
and closed his eyes again.  I brought my dick closer to his face.  My
orgasm was getting closer.  Tony clenched his eyes and mouth in
anticipation.  I looked at his handsome face, saw in my mind's eye what it
was going to look like in one second and let er rip.
      Jets of jizz streamed across his hair and landed on my Granny's couch
(fuck!).  The next one landed square across his face, streaming in his eye
and nose and jaw.  I sprayed it everywhere, giving him the facial I
couldn't only have imagined in my wildest fantasies.
      It was literally the least he could do for me, the lazy bastard.

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