tagGay MaleGeorge

George

byperihelion©

NOTE -- I've written several stories and have received many generous comments; also many kind letters. I want to thank each of my loyal readers and welcome newcomers. My only reason for writing stories is to bring enjoyment to the reader. It gives me great pleasure to think of you masturbating to them.

*

My maternal grandfather died at the ripe old age of eighty and I attended his funeral along with my mother Maureen. Granddad owned a fifteen hundred acre farm south of Hawkinsville, Georgia. After the funeral Mom and I drove Granny home where Mom's four sisters and three brothers joined us. We ate a late lunch from the mountains of food neighbors and friends had brought to the house.

We'd been there barely an hour before the tension erupted into arguments among the siblings. It's not possible for Mom's family to all get together at once without fighting and the funeral of their father was no exception. For some reason my grandparents seemed to encourage the familial hostility, forever pitting one child against another, and because of this war zone I'd never been close to any of Mom's family. Mom dreaded each visit to the farm, only making obligatory visits one Sunday a month. She never dreaded them more than I did.

As the cutting remarks escalated into yelling and screaming curses at each other, I put my suit coat and tie in the car and decided to wander the paths that crisscrossed the farm. As I started down a path near the house a voice call to me and I turned. It was my Uncle George, Mom's youngest brother. Forty-two years old with premature salt and pepper hair, his mischievous sense of fun was more typical of someone much younger than him and totally alien to Mom's family. He had a stunning smile and personality, a firm muscled body from the marathons he ran, and he was the only one of Mom's siblings I'd ever liked. He seemed to be the only one who couldn't be baited into the family arguments and I hated he rarely came home to the farm except Thanksgiving and Christmas. He was a radio disc jockey for a light rock station in Memphis and loved his life there.

"Ryan, I see you've got the right idea. You're going for a walk, right?"

I nodded. He'd changed into jeans and a Titans tee shirt with Nikes. I suddenly wished I had a comfortable change of clothes. At any rate the suit pants and dress shoes weren't too bad and I hoped with any luck I'd be headed home to Macon before dark. I had my cell phone so Mom could call me when she got ready to leave. George was at my side as we walked down a path that led to the barn where corn was stored.

"Goddamn, I can't stand to come to this place. I hate Hawkinsville, I hate Pulaski County, shit, I hate the whole fucking state of Georgia." George laughed. "It's like being in fucking Afghanistan or Korea. There's a constant fight over who's going to inherit what, if the farm's going to be sold so they can divide the profits, and Daddy always threatened to leave the farm to only one son so it would stay intact."

"Do you think he really did that?"

"Probably; he was a total bastard and it would have been just like him to have done it. We'll see when the will gets read tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!?? What the fuck? I sure as hell am not going to stay with this goddamn bunch of whackos overnight!"

"Don't worry; Maureen said she's leaving and will come back in the morning for the big moment in the lawyer's office at ten."

"I'm not coming with her."

"Aren't you interested?" he grinned.

"I don't give a shit what they do with this place as long as he didn't leave me any of it."

"Honestly, I don't give a shit either. I've got way more money than I'd ever get out of this place after it got divided between Mama and eight children. And it's going to be worth even less after the lawyers get their piece of it. They're all threatening to sue each other if they don't get what they want."

"Isn't there something you want, anything?" I teased. "Granddad was worth several million dollars."

"Daddy's assets were tied up in this goddamn farm and in this economy we'll never get what its worth. Plus, he'd taken out a five hundred thousand dollar loan to upgrade the farm equipment, the tractors, the watering system, put in this year's crops, and lots more. If he hadn't been so fucking stingy he'd have started replacing all that shit a little bit at the time instead of waiting until it was all falling apart and then doing it all at once. And the son of a bitch did it when he was fucking seventy nine years old. I swear to God he did it deliberately so we couldn't get rid of this shithole. Mama and the rest of them are all pissed because they're afraid they may get stuck keeping this place running for a few more years and not one of them wants to do it."

I laughed. "Maybe he made good on his threat and left it to one of the boys, maybe you George."

He chuckled. "Dad wasn't that stupid. He knew if it was left to me I'd ditch the motherfucking place as soon as I got it no matter what kind of loss I took."

"So who do you think is the lucky one?"

He snorted. "I hope its Wendell. That prick's just like Daddy, a thieving bastard, a pathological liar, and a cheapskate. The thing is Wendell doesn't want it now because he owns those three restaurants he's laundering money through. Still, I hope he gets stuck with it just so he'll go through the hell he's always rained down on the rest of us."

Wendell was the oldest son and thought he was a financial wizard. Instead he was a brainless turd. He'd always treated his younger siblings like scum and every one of them hated him. He'd had several failed businesses until he bought the restaurants. Mom said Wendell's used the restaurants not only to launder illegal money but to siphon money from Granddad's estate.

The second son, Randall, was a Methodist minister with a gambling habit and eight kids on his third wife. I've always thought he had early dementia and he definitely didn't seem like the best choice unless Granddad's plan was for the farm to evaporate into Las Vegas slot machines along with alimony and child support payments. Mom always said Randall was nothing but a con artist and had only become a minister to stay out of debtor's prison and also because it pissed Granddad off.

George had never married and although he was incredibly masculine with the requisite deep voice, male pursuits, and a sports fanatic, behind his back his brothers and sisters referred to him as 'the faggot'. In my personal opinion the cruel jokes about the mystery of his sexual preferences were not because he'd never married but because he didn't pay thousands of dollars every month in alimony and child support like they did. Even the girls had lost money on marriages because they were rich and they married men with no money. Every one of them had been married several times, spent a fortune every month paying for it, and now they were all bat shit crazy. What made them even more hostile was Granny doted on George all his life; he was her favorite child and it was a bitter pill that Granddad had hated him and called George 'his mother's queer son'. Granddad's real problem with George was he made six hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year as a DJ and had never made less than two hundred and fifty thousand a year since he was twenty-four. He didn't need Granddad's money and hadn't been under his thumb like his other children.

"You don't think he'd leave it to one of the girls?" I asked.

"Hell no, Daddy always said once the girls got married they were their husband's responsibility and that no goddamn son-in-law would ever get his hands on this place."

As much as I didn't like Granddad I grudgingly agreed with his sentiments. Between Mom and her sisters Madeline, Louise, Carol, and Alice they had nineteen marriages. Mom was the only one who didn't have children by each husband and that was only because her Fallopian tubes had been destroyed by the venereal disease Dad had given her after one of his pussy escapades. In my opinion between the five girls they might have one working brain.

George stopped suddenly. "Listen to those birds, Ryan. That's the only thing I miss about this place; nature and the peace in these woods."

We walked in silence for awhile listening to the birds and the sounds of the woods. I agreed with George, the farm was wonderful when you got away from the people on it. We were walking down a path that led to one of six ponds on the farm.

"Do you see Vick a lot?" he asked.

"Sure. He lives in Atlanta now and works in management for the Braves."

"Not that he needs to work. Vick was the lucky son-in-law. His parents own a piece of Coca-Cola so he's never needed money. He didn't have to put up with Daddy's shit."

I laughed. "Remember how Dad was always doing stuff to piss Granddad off? You remember when he placed the full page ad in the Atlanta Journal that the farm was for sell?"

We both burst out laughing.

"I'm surprised Daddy didn't die of a stroke the minute he saw it in the paper. It's a good thing Vick and Maureen were in the middle of their divorce and there was no real evidence to prove he did it."

"Yeah, Dad never outright admitted to me he was the one responsible until a couple of years ago. Before that he'd just grin and you knew he did it but he'd still deny it."

"Vick's sense of humor can be vicious. Did he tell you about the time he and I fucked a waitress together?"

"Yeah, he told me last year when he'd had too much to drink. He has a picture on his mantle of the two of you deep sea fishing and when he was telling me about the trip for the hundredth time, he slipped up and told me about the waitress at the dock bar. He went on and on for about an hour, how you two fucked her at the same time, you in her ass and him in her pussy."

"I'll bet you liked that story, didn't you? You probably still jack off to that fantasy, huh?" he grinned. "Do you get a lot of pussy, Ryan? I'll bet you're just like Vick".

I was a bit startled by his question. This conversation was the first time George had mentioned sex to me. We'd laughed and joked about a lot of things in the past but never about women or sex. Of course I wouldn't have been offended if we had. My father's brother Larry talked about sex all the time when it was just guys around. Dad and Larry were pretty open about sexual matters, bragging about their conquests and always pointing out some girl they thought would give me a good fuck. Of course the talk was more open because he and Mom were divorced. She has a stick up her ass about sex and Dad cautioned me that man talk was just for men, never to talk like that in front of Mom or other girls.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you Ryan. I was just wondering how your love life's coming along at nineteen. I know your dad's a real horn dog. I'm sorry Maureen and Vick busted up but it had to happen. He chased after every pussy he could get his cock in."

"You didn't embarrass me, George; and I've been getting plenty of pussy since I was fourteen."

"Fourteen! Fucking A! That's young. I didn't get any until I was sixteen."

George pulled aside some overgrown bushes and led us into a hidden path I hadn't followed in years. I don't think many people knew it was there because normally Granddad had kept the paths clear for use. This one he'd obviously forgotten. It led through the woods aimlessly and came out at the peanut field after about a mile or so. The peanut field had a dirt road leading to it for the truck so I'd always figured that was why this path had been abandoned. Surprisingly, the path behind the bushes was still smooth and easy to follow. We walked along it for a few minutes and I was amazed at how beautiful it all was.

"You got a girlfriend now, Ryan?"

"No, I don't want to get tied down right now. What about you? You got a girlfriend, George?"

He grinned. "Yes and no. When I get tired of Debbie all I have to do is let the air out and put her back in her box. You get my drift?"

"Oh, yeah," I laughed. "A buddy of mine has an inflatable girlfriend. He let me borrow her once."

"That's all? You didn't want to keep her permanently?"

"Not in my house with the maids. Besides, I get enough real live pussy to satisfy myself. I average one or two fucks a week."

He whistled. "No, shit; married men don't get it that regular, dude."

"I'm a college student. I get lots of opportunities. I take it you don't get pussy that regular, huh? But you do get it sometimes, don't you?"

He chuckled. "I'm not complaining."

I snickered. "Right, I mustn't forget about Debbie. And of course you jack off every day, too."

He burst out laughing. "Oh, I manage to keep my balls from turning blue. And you know how it is; no matter how often he fucks, a guy still has to beat his meat regular, too; there's something about your hand that can never be replaced."

"Truer words have never been spoken."

"How many times a day do you do it?" he asked.

"How many times a day do you do it?" I countered.

"I'm forty-two remember? I only do it once a day usually and sometimes I go a couple of days and don't masturbate at all. It's not like when I was your age. Shit man, I flogged the log three, four times every goddamn day."

I laughed. "And that's about how much I do it, too."

"You're a full time college student and you just said you fuck girls a couple of times a week. When do you find the time to fuck these girls, keep up with your studies, and still masturbate four goddamn times a day?"

I sensed a subtle change in George. This conversation was turning him on. I glanced down at his crotch and could definitely see an erect penis in his jeans.

"Come on, George; don't go dense on me now. A horny guy always finds a way even if you've got to shoot your wad in your pants. I've done it a few times. But normally I jack off in the morning when I get up, in the library bathroom between my ten o'clock and one o'clock classes; when I get home at four, before I go to sleep; and sometimes I wake up with a hard on in the middle of the night and I do it again."

"You do that every day?"

"Of course not; it's fun but too much of a good thing can get boring. Usually it's just in the morning when I wake up and then again at night when I go to bed. If I look at porn on the computer I'll do it again. But sometimes I like to save it up over a couple of days and then see how long I can tease my dick before I cum. The orgasm's a blast."

"That's called edging in case you don't know. So how many times have you done it today?"

I grinned at him. "I haven't done it today; haven't done it in three days."

He swallowed hard and it was obvious.

"Oh, really? Shit, you must be horny as hell right now. No wonder you came to the woods," he laughed. "Don't let me cramp your style."

I snickered. "I think I can survive it."

"Let's stop here, I need to pee."

We stopped and George unzipped his jeans. I turned away to give him some privacy. I don't watch guys take a piss; man's unwritten rule of urinals. Keep your eyes facing forward and never look at the guy next to you.

"What do you think of this one?" he asked in a husky whisper.

"Of this what?" I asked, pretty sure what he was asking.

"What do you think of my cock, Ryan?" he asked softly.

I turned and he had his dick in his hand. It was hard; uncircumcised and thick as a beer can, maybe eight inches long. As I watched nervously, George began to slide the foreskin back and forth over the glans, shiny purple now with a pearl of precum on the tip.

"You like what you see?"

I looked into his eyes and saw his undisguised lust. His cheeks were flushed and a sexual heat seemed to glow from him.

"You seem a little horny, George."

"I am; I used to take this path into these woods when I was a teenager so I could get naked and jack off. I like to cum outdoors."

I felt very uncomfortable. I've been straight all my life, never been with another guy, and never even jacked off with another guy like in so many porn stories. I wasn't sure if George just wanted to jack off here in the woods or if he wanted more. Suddenly I was pretty sure the family gossip about him was right.

"Would you like me to leave and give you some privacy? I can wait for you further up the path."

He continued to slowly masturbate while he looked into my eyes. I repeatedly glanced between his hard cock and his eyes and he knew it. He smiled seductively and stepped closer to me.

"No, Ryan, that's not what I want. What I want is for you to strip naked and jack off with me here in these woods. I want to watch your naked ass jack off while I shoot my own load."

Without waiting for my answer George dropped his jeans to the ground and pulled his tee shirt over his head. He pushed off his Nikes and socks and was completely naked before me. I swallowed hard and he saw me do it. George's body was in perfect shape, a small patch of hair between his nipples and around his belly button with a thin treasure trail leading into a thick forest of pubic hair. There was a light dusting of hair on his legs. His cock stood erect, jerking up and down by itself, and he kept looking into my eyes. I returned his unrelenting gaze but still kept glancing down at his hard cock.

"Please, Ryan, don't make me beg. I know you're straight and I'm bisexual. You could destroy me with the family if they knew about this but I can't stand it. You're don't know how goddamn gorgeous you are and I masturbate right here on this path every time I come home; just like I did almost every day before I left here. I just want to see you naked and watch you jack off. Please."

I looked into his dark brown eyes and then again at his naked body. No matter what I'd always considered my sexual preference, I couldn't deny George was stunning. If I wasn't attracted to him then why was my dick rock hard in my pants? I made a quick decision and before I could change my mind I stripped naked. I wasn't as big as George, not as thick and my dick was only six inches when fully erect. I've got dark blond hair and except for the bush of curly hairs in my crotch and the same under my arms, my body is hairless.

"Fuck, your body looks beautiful, Ryan. It's just like Vick's," he said in a deep husky voice.

I felt free and liberated, naked in the openness of the woods. My balls ached from needing to ejaculate and my cock throbbed. It was pouring precum and I rubbed it over the glans, teasing George. I grinned at him as I watched sweat break out on his face.

"You want my cock, don't you?"

George stepped close to me, we faced each other, and I literally felt the body heat between us, our cocks only a fraction of an inch apart. His face and chest were flushed and I didn't think he would last much longer but he stopped his jacking off and put his face close to my neck.

"You're goddamn right I want it. Now show me your asshole, okay? I want to see all of you."

At this point in the action I no longer cared. Since I was in diapers no one had ever seen my asshole except the doctor who gave me my college entry physical. Now I was going to let George see it and I knew in my heart that if he wanted to touch it, to touch any part of my body, that I was going to let him.

"How do you want me to do this?" I asked.

"Hold on to that pine tree trunk and lean over."

I did as he asked. I turned my head to watch him and George knelt behind me, his hot hands spreading my ass open. All of a sudden he pressed his face into my ass and I felt wet heat as his tongue licked and probed my asshole. My mind, my whole body exploded in a sexual frenzy like I'd never felt before.

"I'm gonna cum," I moaned.

Without even being touched, my cock started to jerk, ready to ejaculate as George quickly turned my body around to face him. He sucked my cock into his wet mouth and I felt his tongue push at the tiny opening. I couldn't stand it anymore and would have collapsed but for his strong arms, his hands pressed against my ass. I grabbed his head with my hands and fucked his face as my cock exploded and my hot semen blasted into his mouth. I'd never cum so much before and out of the blue I understood why Dad and Larry were addicted to sex. I didn't want this sexual encounter to ever end; it was the most fantastic orgasm of my life. Finally, my nuts empty, every muscle in my body seemed to disintegrate and I was weak as a kitten. George gently lowered me to the ground into the leaves and sat on my chest, his knees straddling my face.

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