Cross-Country with My Uncle Ch. 03

Off a small road in north-central Indiana, we pulled into an obviously little-used lane between a wood lot and a pasture. And 500 feet down the lane there was a turnout to a rutted drive into the wood lot, where we turned in. We got from the cooler the last of the egg salad sandwiches and carrot sticks my mom had packed for us, and had a pleasant little picnic parked in the shady grove, with the cab doors open. After we finished, my uncle walked a few steps and, with a conventional modesty now you'd think superseded between us, he turned away, pulled down his gym shorts, and took a whiz.

Though I had been watching him all day long, something in me very strongly reacted to the sight of his powerful, muscled back, with its impressive lats, narrowing to a 31 inch waist, and with his shorts pulled down, his stunning fur-covered butt was exposed to my view. I walked over to him as he was shaking off, and taking his whiskery face in my hands, I gave him another deep kiss. He responded by grabbing me in a firm hug, bringing our chests together. After a passionate 15 seconds, I broke away, stooped to pick up his shorts that he'd stepped out of, and took his great hand in mine and lead him back to the capacious cab of the truck, with his cock, fast becoming the center of my universe, again raging. The fact that it was a little awkward in the cab didn't mean that my first cock-sucking experience wasn't wonderful, because it was. It might have seemed odd to have another man's cock in my mouth for the first time, but actually it seemed remarkably natural and totally wonderful, because it was my uncle's! As he reclined in a semi-sitting, semi-recumbent position on the bench, with one great leg on the floorboard, and one hooked over the seat top, his phallus had never seemed more rigid between his splayed legs; and his balls hung down almost but not quite touching the seat. But though I partly knelt on the floor and partly lay on the seat, actually it was easy, since my uncle made his manhood so open and available to me. Remembering everything he had done to me earlier, I tried to be as artful as he had been with his gentle genital kisses, his use of both hands, his tickling of my balls, the suction he'd used in knowing combination with handwork. The smoothness of his glans on my tongue was wonderful; the contrast delicious with the textured roughness of the shaft with its large veins and small ones, and with the hairs that my tongue found running up partway up the shaft on the dorsal midline. The smell was simply overpowering: it was the complete essence of maleness. And soon came the sweet-salty taste of pre-cum, slicking my lips. When his cock was in my mouth, then I could use (as he had done) my fingers gently to tease his scrotum and feel the heft of his mighty testicles.

It all seemed very natural to me, except for one thing. Though I had had his erect penis in my sensitive hands for much of an hour last night, and I learned every contour and detail of it -- and in any case it was almost exactly just like mine -- I was nevertheless surprised, even amazed at how huge it was in the mouth, and instantly I had a little more sympathy with my girlfriends back home. I tried to be as artful as I could; and remembering some of my amateurish girlfriends back home, I was very careful to make sure that no errant contact with a tooth ever spoiled the sensation. And, though it was my first time to suck a cock, as an experienced fellatee I knew how to extend the experience and make it last, especially since I could feel every twitch in my uncle's member. Though I tried to be deliberate as possible, eventually even with my strategy of easing off and coming on again strong to match his state, I knew that he could no longer hold off coming, which he did in four -- or was it five' -- great shuddering convulsions, during which I instinctively caught his rhythm; and I heightened each of them with a final firm and tight upward stroke with my hand as I was applying suction. His cum flooded my mouth, and though I wanted to savor and swallow it, much of it ran out onto my bristling chin. Though it was he, not I who had technically had the orgasm, I was so much in rhythm with him that I had a virtual one, almost as strong as anything I had hitherto experienced. And as I looked up into his azure eyes, he beamed down on me with the warmest benignity. He didn't have to say a single word. I knew.

To be continued.