Date: Sun, 12 Jul 2015 02:31:04 -0400
From: Milford Slabaugh <tommyhawk1@aol.com>
Subject: Plumb Got Carried Away

                      PLUMB GOT CARRIED AWAY
                      By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
                  WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     I was getting ready for work when the knock came at my front door. It
startled me, you just don't get visitors at six a.m. I worked customer
service at a department store, on the phones, and my hours were from seven
a.m. to four p.m., the only reason I was up at that ungodly hour. At that,
I was in a hurry. But the knock was there, no doubt about it, and I went
over, irate, and answered the door.
     Wow! A big handsome hunk was standing there, with a wide grin on his
face. The face was masculine yet sort of cute, with a pug nose and round
cheeks and a large, square forehead, the hair was a curly black. Over six
foot tall, his shoulders were massive, but his waist and legs were slender
and lean, he looked like he could topple over from the sheer weight of his
upper body. His stomach was flat and taut, his legs had enough muscle to
carry that body where it needed to go, and those upper-body muscles could
carry a hundred pounds under each arm. It took me a while to place it, but
his body put me in mind of Li'l Abner, all he needed was the black
too-tight overalls ragged at the feet and a white shapeless shirt and he'd
be ready for Dogpatch! His first words out of his mouth were equally
startling.
     "Cousin Terry!"
     The term worked where the body wouldn't, couldn't, for it had been
over ten years since we'd last met, I'd been about twelve at our last
meeting. "Clem?"
     "Shore nuff am!" he stuck out a massive paw.
     "Wow, it's been, God, years!" I shook the hand, or should say I had it
shaken, my entire arm was an earthquake zone while my fingers were yelping
in agony from the vise-like grip, they were shattered because this was a
friendly gesture only, the too-tight grip was simply powerful muscles
trying to be gentle.
     I'd loved those trips to Clem's family home every summer, we'd go up
and spend a few weeks with this branch of my mother's family, she was
"Cousin Annie." Grandmother was "Cousin Emily." I'm not sure how many links
you had to go back to find the common ancestor, but the title of "Cousin"
he'd given me was one I shared with at least a thousand other people. But
we'd been welcomed in his home as family members are, and I'd run around
barefoot and happy in a house with a wood-burning stove in the kitchen,
coal-oil lamps for light, water from a pump outside and a bathroom that
required shoes and a flashlight if you needed to go at night. Plus
nose-plugs...phew!
     "I called Cousin Emily and asked if anyone was living in this town and
she said you was, so here I am!" Clem declared. "Got my sack right here!"
     "You're staying with me?" I asked.
     "Yep, shore am!" he announced. "Plan to live here from now on!"
     I should have thrown him out, coming by without an invitation, the
nerve! Instead, those memories of how we'd always show up at their door
without notifying them (well, they had no phone and no mail service) and
always be welcome rose firmly into my forebrain, so instead I said, "Sure
come on in. You're in luck, I had a roommate move out on me and got an
empty room. We'll have to get you furniture for it, but the couch is here."
     "Shucks, I can sleep with you, if'n the bed's big enough."
     "Uh...sure." I looked at the clock. Shit, I was already running late
this morning. "Look, I have to go to work now, but I'll be home about
four-thirty or so, and we'll get reacquainted."
     I fetched the key my roommate had left behind when he'd left (yes, it
was just a roommate, no ex-lover involved, my only loss here was the extra
rent I was having to shell out on a two-bedroom with him gone), gave it to
him, told him to help himself to anything in the refrigerator and left this
near-stranger in full charge of my apartment. It all made sense at the
time, but that didn't sink in until I was buying breakfast at McDonald's.
     I got home at four-thirty and Clem was sitting on my couch, wearing
only a pair of rather ratty boxers. "Howdy, Cousin Terry!" He beamed at
me. He wasn't watching television, he was just sitting there. The hair on
his chest ruined the Li'l Abner image my brain had concocted that morning,
for Li'l Abner was hairless of body; Clem had a fair amount of black body
hair between his twin mounds of breasts, with a thick line down through his
navel and more hair also formed a thick dust on his forearms and legs. His
toes, though, were Li'l Abner's, large and athletic, those feet weren't
used to shoes; I felt sure, though he'd worn them all day, the boots now
rested beside the front door with their tongues hanging out in exhaustion
at holding in those massive feet all day long.
     "Did you make out all right today?"
     "Shore did, done got me a job, shoveling dirt at a construction site
just about six blocks that way!" he pointed. "Start first thing in the
morning."
     "Okay." I said. I went on into the kitchen to get myself a drink and
saw it, "What the hell?"
     His clothes, the ones he'd been wearing this morning, were in the
sink! Other clothes were hanging on a cord he'd strung up on the cabinet
handles, and were dripping on the floor, enough to make the entire floor
wet.
     "Had to do a bit of laundry today, hope you don't mind." he called
out.
     "No problem, but why didn't you use the washer and dryer in the
bathroom?"
     "Is that what big white cabinet with the circular innards are?"
     I smiled. "That's it. I guess I'd better get you acquainted with
modern technology."
     I first showed my country cousin the washer and dryer, and got myself
very wet and messy from the wet clothes. He watched it with wide-eyed
wonder. He'd stayed extraordinarily ignorant of modern life, which would
have been shocking had I not known his history. His family wasn't just
backwards hillbillies, they were WAY BACK in the hills hillbillies. They
lived like that and they loved it, and had for generations. Traveling to
see him involved four-wheel drive vehicles and rough roads for hours on end
to their rough clapboard house deep in the backwoods. Clem had been
home-schooled by his mother and never saw people unless they came to see
him. This act of his, coming to live with me in this town, was an act of
bravery unlike anything I'd ever witnessed before. So teaching him was a
joy, he was eager for the life he'd never had.
     So I changed out of my wet clothes and into a pair of sweatshorts as
my only garb. Clem was heedless of his boxers, so why should I burden
myself with clothing I didn't need. We'd worn only shorts as kids back in
those hills. Of course, we quickly got to the television set. I picked up
the remote control. "Know what this is?"
     "I saw it. Some kind of number box. An adding machine?" Not a dumb
assumption, a remote does have numbers all over it.
     "No, it's not a number box. It's an imagination box." I said. "And
this is how it works." I pointed it at the plasma TV mounted on my living
room wall and hit the "On" button.
     When the news anchor came on the screen, he might as well have been
Aladdin's genie! "Hoo-oo-ooh, doggie!" he breathed huskily. "How'd he get
in there, anyhow?"
     "You never heard of television?"
     Clem shook his head. "This is like them moving pictures I've heard
tell about, isn't it?"
     "Yes, yes!" I nodded like a bobble-head. "It's like moving pictures,
except instead of having to go to a theater to watch it, it's kind of
beamed inside the house for us, and it shows up on that screen."
     "I'll be dogged!" Clem said. "Only he ain't no moving picture show, is
he? He's just kind of sitting there talking."
     "Well, that's one kind of moving picture." I agreed. "But we got other
kinds. In fact, we got moving pictures in a box, even."
     "You do? Where?" Clem wanted to know.
     "That's what's in those boxes on that shelf." I pointed at my small
row of DVD's propped up like books.
     "Is that what those little plates inside are?" he asked. "I looked at
one earlier, thought it was a book, only when I opened it, all there was
inside was this shiny plate with a hole in the middle."
     "That's it." I agreed. "Which one of them were you wanting to look at
when you thought it was a book."
     "This one." Instead of going to the shelf, Clem picked up one that had
been lying beside the couch; I hadn't noticed it.
     I saw the one he'd picked and blushed. "Oh. That one." It could have
been worse. I hadn't told Clem I was gay, and wasn't particularly planning
on telling him, he wasn't supposed to stay with me more than a month or
so. If he'd had a gay porn tape in hand, I'd have been mortified.
     This was a straight porn. Mary had loaned it to me, saying that the
guy in it was a total hunk I had to see. I had watched it; it was a porn
movie meant for women, they didn't jump right into fucking, there was a lot
of hugging and touching and stroking in it.
     Pretty harmless for your fourth cousin to watch with you for a first
taste of modern life, eh? So I bucked up and plowed on, "Okay, let's watch
this one. I should mention that it's kind of explicit."
     "Explicit?"
     "Yeah. It's meant for adults only. Got a man and woman making love."
     "Oh." Clem reached down and unbashfully shifted his cock in his
shorts. "Yeah, I kind of expected that. Not in a moving picture, though."
     I put the DVD in the player. "Well, that's what we got here. Get
comfortable."
     I really should have realized what effect this DVD was going to have
on my too-innocent cousin. He was already in over his head in a lot of
things, and here I was showing him porn on his first day of modern
technology? Too busy being glad it wasn't a gay movie he'd found. Those
were hidden in a drawer!
     He was watching the movie from the first seconds with rapt
attention. People were moving on the screen in front of him, it was
magical, every bit of it. From the pink soft bedroom to the bed, where the
man and woman were lying. Both naked and holding each other in a way that
didn't obstruct the view of their bodies, male or female.
     "Oh, God, look at those titties!" Clem breathed huskily. "God, oh,
God!"
     His cock was jutting the boxers out, it was in mortal danger of
bursting out of the fly in front, that didn't even have a button on it to
keep it closed. No problem when buried in jeans like it had been all day
long, but when nothing obstructed it.
     Clem groaned again, watching the video carefully, the man's hands were
playing with those ample breasts in careful, sensuous, feather-light
strokes, the kind every woman dreams about. "God, those titties, love those
titties, oh, man, oh, man!" he heaved. His hips thrust up and down and that
was enough to dislodge his cock, it stuck out, hard and hungry. Clem didn't
notice, he was too fixed on the screen, and the woman moaning softly,
erotically.
     "Oh, God, yeah, yeah, oh, God!" he gasped. "Titties, titties, I want
those titties, God, I want those titties!" His hands seemed to move without
his volition, reaching for his boxers and sliding them down his legs. He
lifted his feet from the floor and raised them spread wide so as not to
obstruct the screen as he pulled the boxers down to his knees, then lowered
them and slid them down and off his feet, one hand lifted it to the side as
a white oblong of material and dropped them to the side. "Bet them titties
are as soft as silk, as smooth as milk, as warm as a fresh-laid egg. Oh,
God, I want them, I want them!"
     The woman on the screen wasn't helping, the man now was kissing her
breasts, his tongue visible and playing over the nipples while she moaned,
moaned, moaned.
     "God I want to touch them, touch titties, touch titties!" Clem
groaned. I was beside him on the couch and he heard me when I cleared my
throat briefly, a small noise, but he looked my way and his eyes were
glazed and he didn't quite seem to see me.
     But he moved, a convulsive motion, and his arms were around me and his
hand was rubbing my breasts, a circular motion the way the man had been
stroking the woman's breasts on the screen earlier. "Titties, titties, man,
I need them, I need them." he breathed huskily at me. "Got to have them,
got to have them."
     "Steady, Clem, steady." I told him. He was so worked up, like he was
hypnotized, like he was lost in that video. The man was still tongueing
that woman's breasts, she was still moaning, moaning, moaning as his tongue
slid round and round and round.
     "Oh, God, those titties, got to taste them, bet they taste like honey
and sunshine, got to taste them." His fingers caught a nipple of mine and
squeezed it, and I grunted in pain. As before, this small sound seemed to
divert him enough to see me, and then he was moving closer to me still, and
his head went down, twisted around so he could lick my breast while his
eyes never left the screen, still watching the man and woman on the
screen. They finally shifted the image so that you saw her hand, slim and
feminine, and it reached out and found the man's dong, it was soft as ever,
but she caught hold of it and began to touch it, stroke it.
     "Oh, man, yeah, God, look at that, come on, honey, stroke it for me,
stroke it, come on, I need your hand on me, come on, come on."
     I don't think Clem was speaking to me, but my own excitement here,
having this big, massive horny stud rubbing my tits, blinded me to the fine
details, he was there, his cock was pulsing and he was begging it to be
touched, and I was the only person there. I reached over and grabbed hold
of that huge pud, and felt the powerful throbbing organ pulsing in my palm
and Clem moaned and he began to kiss me harder, but still his eyes never
left that screen.
     His hands, though, felt down and found my sweatshorts waistband and
caught hold of them, pulled them down, awkwardly but inexorably, down, and
you can bet I didn't fight him, I helped him get them off me.
     The man on the screen's hand was now prominent on the screen, and I
saw it slide in and began to fondle her vagina, gently, passionately. Was
Clem going to match this, too?
     He did, his hand came down and grabbed my dong, didn't hesitate for a
second at the switch in gender here. He continued to feed off the screen
but his hand capably manipulated my prod, pumping me as I pumped him, me
watching him avidly, him watching the screen, his mouth open in soft
surrender to the sensations sweeping through him, his eyes drinking in
every sound, every image, as the fingers of the man played over the woman's
vagina in sensual synchronization to her moaning symphony of sexual desire.
     The image shifted back to the man who was still working his mouth
magic on her breasts, and that ignited Clem again, he murmured, "Oh, God, I
need those titties, I need them, I need them."
     And he again turned to me, this time his entire body moved, his great
paws of hands closed on my body and he turned my body so I was fully on the
couch, my legs toward him and then he was hiking them upwards as he
clambered in between them. A heavy hawk of spit on his palm and he lubed
his cock, and then he was aiming it for my ass.
     You can bet I didn't fight him on this, I was basking in the full view
of a hot, horny, handsome, hard-bodied hunk and when that prong of his
found my sphincter, it practically sucked him inside.
     With his cock fully established and firmly connected to my body, he
turned his main attention back to the screen, where the man and woman were
getting closer to actually fucking themselves. The man's hands were back on
the woman's boobs, and they were again prominent on the screen, that was
Clem's favorite shot. He again began to murmur, "Oh, God, titties, I need
them, titties, titties, God, yeah, I need them." Each syllable was
punctuated with a stab into my vitals with that huge prod of his, then he
was repeating those words in random sequences, but his motions were faster.
     His eyes closed and he kept on murmuring, "Titties, titties, titties,
titties...." On and on and on, and his body swayed in a ripple of motion
that sent his dong in and out of me with long, rapid, lithe strokes, none
of which missed my happy button inside either way, in or out.
     He was hypnotized, more than hypnotized, he was entranced, a human sex
zombie, the overload of the first exposure to video, and that of explicit
(if romanticized) sex (and didn't that make it worse, not better, idealized
sex to a technological virgin?), his own body had turned every bit of all
that into sexual stimulation and it had overwhelmed his body and his mind
and shut off his intellect, blinded his common sense, and he had grabbed
the only warm body nearby to give that stimulation a way to vent, and so he
was fucking me but it wasn't really me, it was that so-perfect woman on the
screen, being fucked (now) by that so-perfect man, with the lighting just
right, the angle carefully selected for maximum impact, the sound blended
by professionals into the perfect pitch of moaning ecstasy, male and
female.
     So in that daze of delight, that plasma of passion, Clem's athletic,
wonderful body plugged me while he drank in the sounds and the images, and
now the actual sex was well under way, the man's hips were thrusting into
the woman, she was crying out in her delight, and that sound was filling
Clem's senses, keeping him in thrall, and he was lost and helpless as he
fucked my ass.
     The woman's cries of joy reached a crescendo and the man's was right
there with her, the man was hunching her for the first time with something
approaching male energy, and then he pulled out of her and began to pump
his cock with his hand. A few pumps (they cut away, he may have jerked his
dong for a half hour during that cut) and then he was squirting all over
her, hot jets of spunk flying onto her body, they reached her nipples, the
breasts that Clem was so fascinated by.
     And Clem saw that and he moaned, "Oh, God, yeah, oh,
UH-UH-UH-UHHHHH-GUHHHHHHH!"
     And he blasted his load inside me, deep. The hot squirts of his squibs
boiled my innards and the sounds of pleasure on the screen and from Clem
was all my own very male body needed to hit its own climax, I moaned and
ejaculated hard, all over myself, and Clem watched the screen and then he
glanced at me, at my jizz all the way up on my own breasts, and he looked
back at the screen where the woman was rubbing the man's sperm all over her
breasts, and Clem reached out and began to rub my spunk on my chest while
he watched that woman give her tits a jizz-lube, and then, his own body
gave up, he sagged down and lay on me, moaning and sobbing, "Titties,
titties, oh, God, those titties, titties." I reached out and caught the
remote and hit the stop button, the DVD went to blue-screen.
     He raised up after a while and it was like the first time he was
really seeing me, really realizing what we had just done. "Oh, God, Terry,
I'm so sorry, man!" He cringed.
     "It's okay, Clem, don't worry." I soothed him. "I loved it, really!
You were great!"
     "I just plumb got carried away." he went on in self-flagellation. "I'd
never seen nothing like that before, I just...just...."
     "Plumb got carried away." I finished for him, he had been flailing
about for a periphrase.
     "It happens, and the fault was mine for not giving you time to get
used to things before hitting you with that."
     "It was just so...so wonderful." He looked at the plasma TV, that
wonderful purveyor of dreams.
     "It certainly was." But I wasn't looking at the television. He saw me
looking and gave me a bashful smile.
     "You know, I'm getting a mite hungry."
     "Me, too." I agreed. "So let's get acquainted with the shower, and
then I'll show you how to use the electric stove."
     The next day, I came home with a fair-sized shopping bag full of
stuff. Clem worked longer than me, but he arrived a half-hour later. I
showed him the bag. "Got you a present here, Clem."
     He looked at the contents. "More of them moving picture things." He
pulled out the DVD's, a dozen or more.
     "Every one in that series." I agreed. "Same sort as the one you saw
yesterday."
     "There's a heap of them here, aren't there?" Clem observed. "Going to
take a lot of watching to see them all."
     "Yep." I said. "I guess you could say I plumb got carried away."
                             THE END
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