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My Favourite Uncle, Part 7
by EY Bear
Uncle Pat woke me at some stage during the night. “I need more of that sweet arse Son.” He told me to get onto my knees, briefly told me it was called doggy style, and wham, his powerful cock was plundering my arse again, which greedily sucked him in. He moved more slowly, but still giving me the full length of it with every stroke, every vein and ridge making themselves painfully felt, and his hands were free to assault my nipples again, digging his nails in, twisting and pulling them until they wept and then a hand jerking off my cock, fiercely working it, gripping it hard and occasionally holding my balls rolling them and crushing them in his big hands.
This time he made me cum first, so my muscles tightened down on his cock, and with a few violent and uncontrolled thrusts, he came too, biting my shoulders, scraping his nails and raking my back as he pumped yet another load of cum into my battered innards before my knees gave way, and I collapsed and then we both fell asleep there, Uncle Pat still throbbing deep in me.
The next day I woke with Uncle Pat moving gently within me. As soon as he saw I was awake, he asked me if I was ready for my “Good Morning Fuck”. He didn't wait for an answer but started thrusting in earnest, the now familiar long slow strokes out, then powering home forcefully, stimulating every nerve end in my savaged arse. He gripped my cock, and started jerking me off, and I told him that I would prefer to be sucked off this time.
“No way, Son. Daddy can't fuck you and suck you at the same time,” he replied, but he eased his grip, and moved to my balls and started squeezing them, rolling them in his hand, and pulling them away from me so that I couldn't cum. His stokes increased in tempo, and then as he was about to cum, he crushed my balls in his strong fist. I cried out and instinctively tightened the muscles in my arse. By crushing and relaxing his grip he made my arse muscles pump and suck his juices out in time with the thrusts.
The pressure eased, and he slipped out. My arse was so sore and tender I didn't know if it was better with his cock in me or not, but he turned me over onto my back, and started sucking my cock, squeezing my balls again as he did so with one hand while the other went to my ring and first three fingers then four, his thumb and finally he forced his whole fist in again. My arse was so tender even the coarse bristley hairs on his wrist were rough on my swollen lips. He pulled out, past the thickest part of his hand, and then punched it in again, while I cried out in pain, only stopping when he found my love nut and started to massage it, scraping his nails against it as I came, shot after shot which he vacuumed up in his hungry mouth, his tongue rasping over my cock lips and I shuddered with the force of the orgasm.
“You enjoyed that Son,” he said.
“I'm so pleased I came home Daddy. I've always wanted to be your boy for you to love and do whatever you wanted with me and to me.” I replied.
We rested for a short time, Uncle Pat's fist still deep in my bowels, and then he kissed me and started to move his knuckles within me, rubbing them against my prostate, and I started to orgasm again. Clearly he enjoyed controlling me like this and I just lay weakly on the bed as he manipulated my gland making me cum and cum, wracked with orgasms, until there was no more cum, just watery fluid, and then even that stopped. As he did so, my anal muscles clamped on to his wrist, and I cried out, “Daddy stop, please stop. Oh Daddy, don't stop. Oh please, Daddy, Daddy.”
He pulled out roughly and I saw his fist, stained with blood and his cum from earlier fuckings, and I licked him clean, then he licked my arse, sucking the fluids out, and his moustache and beard made me hard again, but there was nothing I could do, I was too exhausted.
He kissed me tenderly, “Welcome home Son. I hope you like being back with me.” I was too tired, so just smiled at him, and rubbed my hand against his face. “Time to clean up,” he said, and I found I couldn't walk, my arse was so sore. He helped me to the shower and we showered together with cool water, washing all the crusted cum and blood from our bodies, he even aimed the shower head up my arse to flush me out, and the water was cool and soothing.
He looked at me in the clear light. “My god, I've nearly killed you Boy. You look like you've been in an orgy!” He showed me myself in the mirror. The only bits that seemed okay were my legs and hands. My mouth was swollen and bruised and my lips all puffy. My nipples were swollen, red and weeping, I was covered with bite marks, scratches, bruises, hickeys and lacerations. My cock lips were bright pink and looked as though they had been turned inside out, while my balls, even drained as they were, were engorged and angry.
He looked at my arse, and then showed it to me in the mirror. I must admit that I had never really inspected my arse before, but my recollection was that it was a tight pinky-brown puckered hole. No more! A red gaping hole, puffy arse lips, the flesh around my arse looked very sore and was weeping, and even as we looked a dribble of blood and cum leaked out.
“My poor boy, I've almost fucked you to death,” and to say sorry he bent to kiss my sensitive arse hole, the prickles on his beard and moustache exciting me further. “I'll get you some vitamin cream,” he said, and came back with a big jar, and a plastic spoon, using the handle to get the ointment deep into me, then covering the ring with generous gobs of cream.
“You'd better rest for now,” he said, and then we looked at the sheets, crusted with cum, crumpled and creased and stained and streaked with blood and cum. He changed the sheets, I fell asleep, and he woke me from time to time with food and drink, and I heard him talking on the phone, but I was so tired, so fucked, I paid no notice, and scarcely stirred even when he came to bed. Instead of fucking me again, he just cuddled me, and in the morning, I felt a lot better.
On examination, I was still badly marked and looked pale and washed out. “You still have two weeks before college starts,” he said. “We are going to go away for a break. You need some sunshine.”
“Oh, where are we going, Daddy?” I asked.
“I'm taking you to Paradise, Son,” he decreed and would say no more.
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