Date: Sat, 8 Jan 2011 11:52:03 -0800 (PST)
From: MUSCLEDADDY BEAR <muscle_daddy_bear@yahoo.com>
Subject: Mr. Fowler Takes Teddy Under His "Wing"

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
either are the product of the author's imagination or are used
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Mr. Fowler Takes Teddy Under His "Wing"

	When we got to the house, though, we could both see Dusty
Fowler's truck coming down the long driveway.  He waved and parked as
we got closer.
	"Kenneth, I just wanted to stop by and borrow your powerwasher
real quick."  Mr. Fowler said as he walked up to join us.  "And, how's your
boy doing?  It looks like you put him t' work today."
	"Sure thing, Dusty, it's in the garage.  The replacement nozzle,
you'll be wanting that, is in the cellar under the laundry room.  Teddy can
get that for ya.  And, yeah, he's been a big help to me today."  Dad
answered as the phone began to ring.
	"I'll go get that nozzle for you, Mr. Fowler, I know right where
it is."  I offered glad to help as Dad excused himself to go answer the phone.
	I went through the garage into the laundry room with Mr. Fowler
behind me.  I bent over and pulled the trapdoor open while lowering the
attached ladder.
	"Hop to it, son, I've gotta lot of work yet t' do," he said with
the stern impatience I'd gotten used to being his general nature.
	"Sure, I'll just hand it up to you once I get down there."
	Once I was on the cellar floor, I looked up to pull the light's
chain when I noticed that for the first time Mr Fowler wasn't in his usual
khaki work slacks.  He had on some kind of loose board shorts and a
white polo.  The thing I noticed most though was that from where I was
standing, I could see right up them.  Him not having on underwear, I was
getting an eyeful of his sturdy furry legs as well as a damed hefty cock and
balls.  It took me a minute to realize I was staring and to reluctantly look
away.
	"You see it down there, Teddy?"  Mr. Fowler asked.
	"Yes sir, here it is."  I grabbed the nozzle and started back up
the ladder when the handhold broke off sending me backward and onto the
 floor.
	"Are you okay, boy?"
	"Yeaaah, I'm fine."  I was more embarassed than anything.
	"Here, I'll meet you halfway and hold onto the opening to give
us both some balance." and with that, he came down the ladder a bit as I
picked myself up from the floor.
	I handed him the nozzle which he tossed through the door
opening and onto the floor above.  Then, he reached his left hand down
and across himself to grab mine.
	"Okay, let's get up this ladder without any more of your clumsy
spills," he grumbled as he began backing up the ladder.  As he did, his grip
pulled my hand to press against his cock as we took each step up.  I swore
I could feel it flexing underneath, and looked up at Mr. Fowler's face to see
if he realized it.  I couldn't see, though, as he was looking up as well.
	When we got to the top and off the ladder, he pulled me into a
hug and I swear he pressed his cock against my hip. He'd always been a
rather abrasive man and never affectionate toward me in the slightest, so
all this really threw me.  But, it turned me on, too!  It was also making me
feel rather bold.  So, as I turned to drop the trapdoor closed, I let my hand
brush his cock and give it a subtle squeeze.  I then grabbed the powerwasher
nozzle.
	"I put this in the back of your truck, sir, if you want to grab the
powerwasher..it's just inside the garage door on the left." I said as I headed
quickly out the door into the garage.  Dad came back out of the house at
the same time.
	"Dusty, old man, you got time for a beer?"
	"Naw, Ken, gotta get back.  I'd like get outside of the house
ready so I can start painting first thing in the morning. Say, do you think
Teddy'd like to make some spending money?  I've gotta number of projects
around the house I'd like t' get to before the cold weather hits."
	"Well, I know he's busy with football and his studies during the
week, but he might be interested in working for ya on the weekends.  Ask
him.  Hell, there's the damned phone again.  I'll be right back."
	Mr. Fowler crooked his finger at me as I came back into the
garage.  As I came up to him, he leaned against the wall thrusting his hips
forward making his cock visible down the leg of his shorts and put a toothpick
from his pocket in his mouth.  He just looked me up and down for a minute
and then started to speak.
	"Teddy, I was just talkin' with your daddy.  He said you might
be willin' t' helping me out on the weekends with some remodeling I'm doin'
at the house.  Now, I'll pay ya, son...double minimum wage if you're
interested."
	He stood there chewing on the toothpick continuing to look at
me in a strange way that made me a little uncomfortable, though not in a way
I could put my finger on.
	"Sure," I said, "I love doing that kind of stuff and would be glad
t' help for free, Mr. Fowler, just for the experience."
	For some reason that seemed to make him that smile that looked
so odd on his severe face.  Not that Mr. Fowler wasn't a good looking man,
far from it.  He just wasn't handsome in the usual sense.  He was very
imposing with his close-cut salt-n-pepper beard, shaved head, and broad
features.  Everything about Dusty Fowler was broad...brow, cheekbones,
jaw, shoulders, arms, legs, hands, and feet.  He was just a helluva big man
on top of always having such a stern look to his face. He must've made a
great foreman with his ability to be imtimidating by merely looking at
someone.  So, that small smile just seemed out of place on him.
	"Good, boy, come on over once you're up at at 'em.  Wear
somethin' cool as we'll be paintin' the outside of the house t'morrow.
Marilyn'll fix us a nice lunch, too.  Make the most out of that as she'll be
spending her weekends relievin' her sister with taking care of her parents
for the next few months."
	At this point, Dad came back out grumbling something about
telemarketers.
	"So, what'd you two decide?"
	"Well, your boy here is gonna be helping me at the house on
the weekends...double minimum wage so long as he keeps his tail in gear
and nose to the grindstone."
	"Ahh, now Dusty," Dad stammered a little, "how about we
make this Sunday's only.  I still need him t' help me keep the place up here.
I'm sure I can spare him for one day a weekend, but I'm not at all sure
about two.  And, if he didn't remember t' mention it, I'm taking him campin'
next weekend."
	"Hell, that's a deal and no problem.  I was expecting t' do it all
myself 'til just now.  It alright if he comes over tomorrow, though?  With his
help, I'm betting I'll be able t' get the outside of the house painted in one day."
	"Yeah, that's fine with me.  And, I'm guessing it works for Teddy
here as well, Dusty.  You want me t' drop him off in the morning?
	"Sure, then I'll bring him home when we're done.  Deal?"
	"Deal," Dad said and then looked at me for confirmation.
	"Deal," I added.
	"Now, why don't you go jump in the shower before Mom gets
home 'cause I need t' clean up, too." Dad suggested.
	"Sure thing.  See you tomorrow, Mr. Fowler!" I said before
heading into the house.
	The rest of the evening went normally and, though I laid awake
hoping, I ended up sleeping without Dad coming in to my bedroom as he
had the night before.  The next thing I knew, he was gently shaking me
awake and reminding me I needed to get over to Mr. Fowler's after
breakfast.
	I was disappointed nothing more'd happened with my father,
but I got up and brushed my teeth.  I wetted and combed my hair before
getting dressed in gym shorts and a tanktop as well as my gym shoes.
	I was coming into the kitchen as dad was coming out shirtless,
barefoot, and in old thin sweat pants.  As we squeezed past each other, I
took advantage of the situation and brushed my hand solidly against his
low-hanging cock.  He didn't appear to notice and simply sat down at the
table with his coffee to finish his breakfast with mom and I.  I ate quickly
and brushed my teeth again, then I let Dad know I was ready to leave as I
gave mom a kiss on the cheek.
	When Dad dropped me off, I was surprised to see Mr. Fowler
already painting.  The biggest surprise, though, was Mr. Fowler himself.
I'd always thought of him as an old man, but the guy I was seeing now looked
far from old.  He was in thin white shorts, kind of tennis style, and a wifebeater.
	The real surprise, though, was his body.  He looked like a
weightlifter where my dad looked more like a runner.  Now, he did have a
little hint of roundness to his stomach, but everything else looked like he
spent a great deal of time keeping it all in impressive shape.  His normal
work clothes hid it all, though.
	He put the brush he was using away and wiped his hands on a
towel as I approached.  His face boke into a huge uncharacterstic grin as
he grabbed my hand in friendly handshake and wrapped the other arm
around me pulling me into a quick bearhug.
	He smelled like my dad, only with different aftershave underneath
it all..woodsy.  My head was swimming a bit again.  He had my head pulled
close to his armpit where his smell was extra rich and earthy...all man.  I
realized right there that this smell, the scent of a man...clean, but hardworking
...was turning me on like a light switch.
	He pulled away quickly, though, saying, "Sorry, Teddy boy, I
just got my sweat all over ya."
	"Aw, I don't mind, Mr. Fowler.  I like it."
	SHIT !!  Did I just say that????
	Mr. Fowler just looked at me a little surprised for a split second,
but then went right back to stern and intimidating.
	"Well, good then, we'll be able t' work in close quarters and
get through this pretty fast."
	He showed me how t' wet the paint brush, and then apply the
paint to the walls.  Then, we picked up where he'd left off when dad
dropped me at his house.
	He stood right next to me, getting the higher areas while I got
the lower.  When we were meeting in the middle, I got to soak in the smell
of him as his armpits were right at face level for me.  Never anything offensive
or youthful like my friends and I at practice, just a rich masculine man's scent
that left me wondering how he smelled in other places.
	"Son, go over to my truck...passenger side...and get that bag
of supplies that's in the floorboard."
	"Yes sir."
	When I leaned into his truck, I saw a small novel sticking out
from underneath the driver's seat.  I pulled it out and was shocked at the
title and cover.  It read, "Daddy's Boy Grows Up," and had a picture of
two big strapping men with huge horsecocks at each end of what looked
to be an atheletic teenager...the boy had one cock stuffed up in his ass and
the other forced down his throat!!!
	I was instantly hard, though still confused about these new
feelings I was having about other guys.
	The novel fell open to a passage about the boy's dad and uncle
taking him out to the woodsheed.  I read until I realized I needed to get back
and had no way to hide my hardon.  Even my briefs weren't tight enough to
hold it back.  I did leave the stirring sticks in the cab, though, after putting
the novel back so I'd have an excuse to come back later.
	When I got back, Mr. Fowler asked what took me so long
and I gave him some lame story about having a hard time getting a pebble
out of my shoe.  He looked down at me out of the corner of his eye as he
continued painting and glanced down at my crotch quickly before turning
his attention back to the area he was working on.
	Mrs. Fowler came out with a couple tall glasses of soda for
the third time that morning, this time saying she'd left lunch in the fridge and
was heading into the next town (an hour away) to do her weekly shopping.
	After she drove off, Mr. Fowler said we'd just finish the section
we were working on and then head in for lunch.
	He pulled a black and chrome flask from his back pocket and
told me to chug about a fourth of my drink as he did the same.  Then, he
opened the flask and poured a brownish liquid in both glasses.
	When I looked at him quizzically, he told me, "You've done a
great job so far, boy...good as any grown man, so you deserve a grown
man's thank you.  You had bourbon before, chief?"
	"Well Dad drinks it, but I've only had beer before."
	"Drink your first real drink then, boy, and we'll head in for lunch
...the faster you finish, the faster we eat!"
	It kind of burned going down, and I couldn't say I liked it.  I
didn't want to seem like a baby, though.  So, I told Mr. Fowler it tasted
great...it seemed like he knew better and was amused by my fibbing, though.
He patted my back and then slapped my butt after I'd finished telling me to
head into the house for eats.
	I stumbled a little as I walked, the liquor making me feel as if I
was being heated from the inside out.  I felt like smiling for no reason, and
incredibly relaxed!
	After we'd eaten, I said I had to pee and asked where the
bathroom was.
	Mr. Fowler told me to use the one in the garage which was his
bathroom for when he was working at home.  He said to excuse the mess
as his wife refused to go in there.
	So I trotted out to the bathroom which had a shower and
everything, dropped my shorts mid-thigh as I swayed a little from the
bourbon, and then opened the cabinet over the toilet to snoop.  Sure
enough, under the towels was another of those novels.  This one was titled,
"Lessons From My Uncle" and had a picture of an older man with a naked
younger boy.
	The man had his jeans open, though otherwise fully dressed,
while the boy was on his knees with his lips right at the head of the cock
hanging out of the man's open fly.  I flipped it open and started reading
about the boy being caught masturbating in the middle of the night while
staying with his uncle.  He'd been yanked out of bed and onto his knees,
and then forced to suck his uncle's cock.  The boy's uncle then began
fingering his young nephew's butthole as the boy sucked his cock even
harder.
	I stood there stroking and reading when I heard the door from
the house to the garage open, so I tossed the book back and closed the
cabinet.
	I realized I hadn't locked the door when Mr. Fowler barged in
and up to the toilet, opening his shorts and dropping them to the floor.
Damn, if Dad was hairy, Mr. Fowler'd have to be called woolly.  Silver,
blond, and and black all in a pelt covering his legs and bursting around his
hefty equipment.
	"Buddy, you take too goddamned long!  I was about t' piss
myself." he growled.  "What the hell were you doin' in here?" he asked as
he looked down to aim his cock at the water and caught sight of my seven
incher sticking straight out in front of me.  I just knew I was in trouble as
he'd know I'd found and was reading his book.
	"Ohhhhh, I see.  That happens to me too, son."  he said instead.
" I hold it too long and get a piss hardon, then can't take a piss with it that
hard.  Here's a little tip for this situation, though.  Lightly rub your finger just
on the underside and think about running water.  That usually works for me."
	I didn't say anything, still in a bit of an alcohol haze.  I just
looked down at my dick and did what he said.  As much as I wanted to, I
wouldn't let myself look at his cock.  I didn't want to get caught with him
right next to me.
	"No no, boy!  Not like you're trying to rub it raw, for christ
sake!.  Slow....here, let me show ya..."
	He turned toward me a little and put on arm around my
shoulders.  I got so nervous, I immediately started losing my hardon.  He
reached down anyway and began to slowly stoke my cock from underneath
with one of his wide rough fingers.  My dick jerked and went right back to
full mast.
	"How's that?" he asked.  "Is that givin' you the urge t' piss yet,
son?"
	I stood there silent, unable to respond.  Once again partly afraid
of what was happening, and partly wanting nothing more than for this to
continue on to something more.
	"It doesn't always work, though..." Mr. Fowler said, his voice
even lower than usual and husky now.
	"Sometimes," he turned a bit farther into me, placing his own
hard cock against my forearm, "it only makes it even harder...t' piss...ususally
that's when the problem isn't having held back too long, but just bein' too
damned horny."
	I could feel his stare boring a hole in my head from above.  I
pulled my elbow back between us and tentatively began moving the back
of my hand across the underside of his cock.
	"Oh, yeah," he half whispered, half growled, "that's it."
	He circled his hand loosely around my smaller dick and began
stroking.  The skin of his huge paw was rough and calloused like Dad's.  I
was discovering I loved the feel of roughened hardworking hands on my
sensitive skin.
	I copied his technique, switching to my other hand to get a better
angle.  I stepped back a little, too, so I could look up and see the look on
his face..judge whether or not this was going to get me in trouble at some
point, like if he changed his mind and looked at me with disgust.  Or worse,
if he was goint to end up telling my dad!
	No, he was staring down intently at my hand stroking his horse-
cock.  I did the same and felt a shiver crawl up my spine.  He was even
bigger than Dad....by at least an inch or two.
	Best, though, was that his cock was definitely different. A slight
curve to the left, and a HUGE mushroom head with a lot of extra skin behind
it.  I realized Mr. Fowler must not have been circumcized!  And where my
dad began precumming just before climaxing, Mr. Fowler was already leaking
heavily all over my hand!
	I tightened my grip some and began to pump his slippery monster
cock at the same time as his hand slowed almost to a stop on mine.  Instead
of feeling forgotten, though, this excited me even more.  I felt like I must be
doing such a good job, that he couldn't concentrate on me any more.  That
made me feel even bolder.
	Suddenly without thinking, I dropped to my knees in front of
my father's boss.
	"Oh god," he growled as if he knew what I was going to do.
	And, I did exactly what he expected.  I aimed that huge slab
of thick meat with it's even huger precum-slick head at my mouth, stretched
open my lips, and slid my mouth down his cock till he was at the back of
my throat.  I twisted my head from side to side, and lapped my tongue all
over the surface of his meat as it filled my mouth completely.
	He grabbed my head in both hands, gripping tightly, and ever
so slowly pulled me off his cock as I contintued slurping and swallowing.
He pulled me back till just the very tip was left between my lips.
	"Lick it, son,"  he said, sounding almost angry in the command,
"lick the head of Daddy's big cock like a good hungry boy..."
	And, did I ever!!!  It was like the liquor got a second wind and
all my inhibitions when flying out the door.  All I wanted was to lick and suck
his huge cock till I couldn't suck it any more.  I also noticed that every time
his cock flexed, precum ran across my tongue.  He tasted a lot like Dad, too.
Not bitter at all, just salty and syrupy.  The taste of it made me want more
and more!
	Lapping at it was hot, especially feeling his precum drool onto
my tongue as I worked.  But, god, I wanted it filling and stretching my mouth
again!
	As if on cue, Mr. Fowler rose up on the balls of his feet almost
pointing his rigid shaft straight down at my face and pulled my head onto
his cock as he sank it down and inside.  This time, though, he didn't stop
when he hit the back of my throat.  He forced his cock past and down inside
my throat, burying my nose in his crotch, holding his cock there while my
throat spasmed around it.
	He pulled back out and then began a steady rhythm of feeding
me his cock and then pulling it back.  Every third stroke or so, burying his
long thick cock deep inside my throat.  It felt at those times like he was
almost reaching my stomach with that huge thing.
	Suddenly he picked up his pace, plowing my face as he groaned
and growled....and, sensing he was close to cumming, I started suctioning
for all I was worth!
	I reached for my own cock and the minute I touched it, I started
shooting my load in front of me.  At the same time, I heard him suck a deep
breath through clenched teeth, and felt him flood my mouth with his cum.
	He slowed his pistoning down to a lazy stroking into my mouth
as he continued spewing more and more of his cock syrup into my mouth.
And no matter how fast and hard I tried to swallow it all, it still kept running
out the sides of my mouth.  I just couldn't keep up!
	After he finally finished, he grabbed me by the hair and tilted my
head to look up at him.
	He grabbed his cock with the other hand as he snaked it out of
my puffy lips, and then used it to pry my mouth back open.
	"Now, Teddy, no one needs to know anything about this.  You
 hear me?"
	"Yes, sir," I quietly responded expecting the worst.
	"Not," he used his cock to push some of his cum from my chin
up into my mouth, "...your dad," he pulled his cock back out and used it
again to push more of his cum up to my greedy lips and tongue, "...not your
friends," he pushed even more into my mouth, "...not anyone," as he milked
the last of his cum out of that long thick cock into my mouth.
	"Right?" He asked a little menacingly.
	"Yes, Mr. Fowler." I gulped.
	"Good boy, just so we understand each other.  Now, get
dressed and back t' work.
	"And....by the way...son," he looked at me with a raised eyebrow
and gravel in his low voice, "where'd you learn t' give head like that?"
	"I didn't learn it anywhere, I just kinda did it...didn't much think
about it.  I just did it like I wanted to," I replied.
	"Well, that was a gold-star blow-job by any standards...you
done real good, boy."
	"Aw, hell..." he said just afterward, distracted now as he pulled
 his own shorts back up.
	"What's wrong?" I asked.
	"Nothin' you could help.  You shot your load all in my shorts,
champ, made quite an impressive mess. But, this means I have t' spend the
rest of my day with cock n' balls slappin' around in your cum."  He chuckled
a little, " I'll let it slide this time, boy, but make sure it don't happen again,
y' hear me?"
	"Yes, sir."
	"Good, now let's get back to painting" Grinning he patted my
butt and then gave it a squeeze before swatting me into motion out the
bathroom door.
	Now, why did he and Dad keep reaching for my butt??