Date: Tue, 19 Apr 2005 17:52:14 -0700 (PDT)
From: niftystoryteller <niftystoryteller@yahoo.com>
Subject: southern nights, chapter 14

Warning: the following story contains graphic descriptions of sex between
consenting adult males. If you are underage or do not wish to read such
materials, or if reading this sort of material is illegal in your
jurisdiction, then read no further.  If you have any comments for the
author, or if you would like links to my other stories, feel free to drop
me a line at niftystoryteller@yahoo.com.



	"We should probably be getting back soon," he said.

	"Mmmm, hmmm," my uncle replied, settling just a hair deeper into
the down bedding.

	Forrest allowed his hand to slip down and across my uncle's haunch,
before wriggling it between muscular thighs that parted with just the
slightest resistance.  "If we don't leave soon, it'll be dark before we get
back."

	"Yeah, we just might have to spend another night up here if we're
not careful."

	"We do that, and my Daddy'll give me the whuppin' of a lifetime,
even if I am a grown man, and bigger'n him to boot," Forrest drawled in an
ever-so-slightly affected, down-home way that could (and had) charmed the
pants off at least one man I knew.

	It was true that, on this winter solstice eve, the day before the
shortest day of the year, the pale sun was already well past the vertical.
And it was also true that the proffered alibis could only be stretched to
cover a single night's absence.  But it was also true that everyone
involved would have given an awful lot for another night hidden away in the
pines.

	Rolling over in the warm cocoon of the covers, my uncle pressed his
body up against his companion's.  The cozy warmth was like a nap on a lazy
summer afternoon.  With each breath, with each rise of my uncle's smoothly
muscled chest, I could feel the wiry press of the scattering of still
sparse hairs that shadowed Forrest's pectorals.  My uncle idly stroked
them.

	"I wonder if I'll ever grow any chest hair," he murmured.  "Mama
always tells me that eating my vegetables will do the trick, but it hasn't
worked yet."

	"I like you nice and smooth, just the way you are."

	"You don't think that would make me more of a man, less of a boy?"

	Forrest gripped my uncle's erection.  "I guarantee you, this
doesn't belong to any boy.  I've never known a boy that had such a big,
beautiful cock.  Only a man could have this hanging between his legs."  He
stroked it a couple of times, spreading the oozing precum.  "And I
especially like the way it curves off to the side.  And I really, really
like it when it starts leaking like this."

	My uncle squeezed his bedmate's even larger penis and nipped
lightly at an earlobe.  "Yours is the biggest I've ever seen," he whispered
as the rhythm of his heartbeat increased just a bit.  "Every time I jack
it, I almost can't believe it."

	"Well, I can't quite believe you can take it up your butt."

	My uncle squeezed their cocks together and flicked his tongue over
Forrest's ear.  "It hurts at first, but then all I want is to have your
dick inside there."  Lips, tongues, and teeth met and tangled, and I
quivered at the sensation of their erections sawing back and forth over
each other.  "I liked it last night when you were fucking me with your big
prick."

	Speaking forbidden words and describing forbidden acts, my uncle's
excitement increased.  He rolled over on top of Forrest, pinned him to the
bed and kicked the covers off.  As the two of them pressed their bodies
against each other, I longed to insert myself into the freshness, the
newness of their discovery of what it was possible for them to do together.
In my disembodied state, I was an unseen witness to their sex.  The one
compensation was the way it brought back the recollection of my feelings,
of my physical memory of my first real sexual affair with another man.
That relationship had been my graduation from furtive gropings in
clandestine spots to whole days spent naked in bed, sharing my body and
that of another.  I had been about the same age as these two.

	Reliving that past, I opened myself up to their experience.
Between them, a slow, almost imperceptible, battle for control developed,
as Forrest began a campaign to assert himself and claim the higher
ground. My uncle resisted a bit at first, but before long he allowed
himself to be flipped onto his back, hips straddled by his young lover.
Forrest reached down and lightly tugged at my uncle's hard nipples before
moving one hand down to their groins, where he squeezed together their
ready, willing, and able erections.  Slowly and deliberately, he began to
stroke them in tandem, from their thick roots to their shiny heads.

	"Unnnh, yeah," my uncle groaned as he amplified the resulting
friction with tiny thrusting motions of his hips.  "You're making me so
fucking hot, playing with my cock."

	Forrest's breathing was a little ragged.  "You like it when I jerk
us off together?"

	My uncle responded with barely a grunt, rendered speechless by the
sensation of taut skin on taut skin.  Even after all that had transpired up
in the cabin over the previous twenty-four hours, I was startled by the
intensity of his lust, which bled across the indistinct boundary that
separated us, fueling my own.  He hungrily inserted an index finger between
his lips, sucked it and coated it with his saliva, before slipping it
between their rigid organs, right at that point of maximum sensitivity,
where that most delicious flap of skin connects head and shaft.  At that
moment, vicariously experiencing my uncle's feelings emanating from his
circumcised cock, I longed for my own uncut penis and its raw, untamed,
primitive power.

	My ability to concentrate on my own personal loss faded in the face
of almost unbearable sensations generated by my uncle.  Back and forth, he
alternately used his finger to frig the union of their cocks and then
withdrew it to allow direct contact between bare, overheated skin.  What
had been a scant trickle of precum had grown into a steady flow coursing
from flaring piss slits.  Each organ was as hard as a table leg and as dark
as a plum.  Reaching down with his free hand, my uncle grabbed Forrest's
hairy balls, tugging at them and massaging them through their hanging sac.

	"I know these are full of cum," he growled, "and you're gonna spray
it all over me.  You're just gonna fucking hose me down, aren't you?"

	Chest heaving, Forrest nodded, and my uncle wordlessly reached down
with his slippery index finger and wiggled it through the clenching anus he
found down below.

	"Oh, fuck," Forrest groaned, rearing back a little to impale
himself further on the fat digit.  "I'm gonna cum."

	And cum he did.  Geysers of milky white fluid spurted high into the
air, spraying my uncle's torso and coursing down the union of their cocks.
Through my uncle's finger, I could feel the clenching of the powerful
muscles that pulsed deep in Forrest's body and pumped literally millions of
sperm into their first and final meeting with the outside world.  My uncle
and I watched together as our lover's whole body spasmed again and again
with the powerful effects of his orgasm.  As it faded to an afterglow, he
leaned down and took my uncle's distended, coated erection between his
lips.

	A deep, guttural sound emanated from the pit of our stomach, as we
both, my uncle and I, struggled to process what we were feeling and
thinking.  It was like a million tiny needles were prickling every square
inch of our skin, like our widespread arms and legs were stretching to the
four corners of the earth, like every cell in our body was being threaded
through our groin and turned inside out.  The sight of his bobbing head,
the slick sound of his lips on our flesh, the feel and the smell of sex,
the taste of his cum on his lips, then our cum, then the holy union of all
our cum, all these things were present for me in that instant, a moment
that first saw the universe expand to contain all the love and lust, all
the sweat and spit and cum and tears, that I had ever known, and then saw
that same universe recede into the distance, disappearing until it was less
than a pinpoint of light on the black velvet counterpane of infinite
nothingness.

	I was floating, far beyond the boundary of whatever reality I had
just known or would know in the future that was in fact my past.  I reached
out a symbolic hand, hoping to find a welcoming touch, but I had somehow
lost track of what direction to turn.  I couldn't say whether I was
suspended perfectly still or spinning like a top.  There was just nothing.
Nothing except that barest hint of a tether connecting me to my uncle, who
I knew was still in the light.  Across the distance of space and time, I
could feel him, and he could feel me, and together we found the way I had
to go, and I slowly pulled myself back to him.  Back to my perch.  For how
long, I did not know, but I had begun to suspect that it would not be
forever.

	By the time I returned to the here and now, or there and then, they
were already getting dressed, and chattering and laughing, and horsing
around like the twenty-year-old men that they were.  Watching Forrest
through my uncle's eyes, it was uncanny to me how much like Beau he was.
The way he moved, the way he smiled, the way he arched his eyebrow, the
passion he exuded.  Seeing all of this, I was left with the obvious
question.  Why had he ultimately turned out so different from his grandson?
Or was Beau himself going to change?  I had no guarantees that he would
always be the young man I knew.

	I turned these questions over in my mind until they were ready to
leave.  Standing awkwardly just inside the door, neither wanted to be the
one to say goodbye.

	"So," my uncle started, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow night."

	"Tomorrow night?  Are you coming to that?"

	"I don't believe I'd be allowed to miss it.  My mama hasn't missed
one of your daddy's Christmas parties since the year I was born.  And
she'll want me to drive her."

	Forrest looked off to one side.  "I'd give anything to miss it.  If
you had any sense, you would too."

	My uncle threw his arm around his lover's shoulders.  "Come on,
young man.  Buck yourself up!  I'll make sure I've got my daddy's old flask
in my coat pocket, and you never know, maybe we'll need to go out at some
point to fetch some firewood.  Just about anything could happen."

	"I wish anything could happen," Forrest said softly.  "But I know
it won't."

	And then, under a cold, clear pale blue sky, two cars wound their
way down a mountain road, over a highway, onto a country road, and finally
reached a fork, where they went their separate ways.