"We shouldn't be doing this Rick!" he said and I told him to shut up and fuck me harder. "C'mon Chip, tell me you don't love ramming your big cock up my ass-hole, tell me you haven't wanted this for a long time!" "But what if your sister finds out?" he said, and I made a joke of it answering "Then I guess your wife would find out at the same time!" You see, Chip Wells is married to my sister but there was no way she was going to find out what we were doing that afternoon. She and our mother had just left for a baby shower and it would be hours before she waddled back in the door of our house. Her doctor said she still had a month to go, but she looked to me like she could pop any day. Chip was cut off over a month ago, making him an easy prey for me.. "Yeah you're right Rick, I'll admit it. You were just a smart-assed little kid when I first met you, but even back then I could see you were going to be a hot piece in a few years. You turned out even better than I expected though!" "What is it you like best about me?" I asked him, "is it the way I suck your cock, squeezing your balls to hold in all that spunk until I'm ready to have you blast it down my throat, or is it the way my hot ass-hole massages every hard inch of your horny cock. while you fuck me?" "Or maybe it's how I look in a tank top or those swim trunks I was wearing when you showed up earlier. "Yeah, that's it isn't it Chip? You're turned on by the sight of my hairy chest and belly, my muscular legs and my hairy ass aren't you. Hell, I could see you practically drooling in the car when you dropped Connie off". I knew he would have to drive his immensely pregnant wife over to meet mom before going to the baby shower some of the relatives were throwing her. I'd decided to mow the lawn and I slipped on an extremely skimpy pair of swim trunks to do it. It showed plenty of my bare skin and most of my hairy butt. I think that's what put Chip over the edge, seeing my hairy butt and wishing he could put his hot hands and mouth on it. My brother-in-law wasn't the first, and won't be the last, to get turned on by my furry compact body. I'm not a really big guy, only 5'8" but I'm very muscular and -- as Chip can attest -- extremely hairy, far more so than any 19- year old ought to be. Mine is a thick but soft coat of light brown fur that blankets me from head to toe. On my back it's very light in both color and texture, but you can still see it and feel it if you get close enough. Down at the base of my back it gets heavier and I have to admit that my ass is about the hairiest one I've ever seen. "Oh yeah Chip, c'mon fuck me good man! Make me come the same time you do. Ram me! Fuck me!" I shouted, and I felt my own cock explode as he blasted into my pulsing hole. My load arcs up and lands on my face, coating my eyes and nose and lips and leaving big puddles on my hairy chest and belly. Tell me Connie makes you come that hard!" I said, and Chip admitted to me that he hadn't felt so good in years as he had in the last couple of hours with me. "Oh shit Rick that was great! Promise me you'll never let Connie know we did this! I'm not queer you or anything you know. I'm just so fuckin' horny because the doctor says we can't do it any more. Promise me this'll be just between us" he said, and I could see how worried he was that I might spill the beans. "I'll make a deal with you Chip, get me a job inter- view with your old man and I'll keep quiet. What do you say buddy.....fuck buddy" I asked. He had no choice (and I knew it!) On my own I'd never have gotten in to speak to Charles Thomas Wells Sr., a local business executive and father of my brother-in-law Chip. My resume wasn't exactly what you would call "impressive". I'd flunked out of college after one semester--my social life got in the way of my education. I don't think I spent a day on campus without going to some party or another, getting drunk or stoned and having three or four (or twenty) dorm residents or frat brothers fuck me. I even made it with one of my teachers who hadn't realized who I was until he'd already turned in my failing grade. How could he know me? I never once attended his class! It wouldn't have made a difference anyhow. I left school with a .00 grade average. My interview with Wells Sr. took an odd turn from the very beginning. It was a little hard to determine how old he was. I know Chip's an only child, but he may have been born when Charles Sr. was in his twenties, or his thirties, or (thought I didn't think so) in his forties. From the looks of the head of the company I would guess him to be close to fifty, but not much older. He had plenty of good years left. I'd dressed conservatively (for me at least) by wearing a colorful shirt and a linen jacket over it, rolling the jacket sleeves up to my elbows. What that did was to expose my furry fore-arms but not the tattoo on my right upper arm up near the shoulder. (the woman at the tattoo parlor said it would show forever because the hair beneath it would never grow back in. Boy was she wrong. The brilliantly colored figure that sort of resembles a dragon with wings is almost completely hidden by the hairiness of my shoulder. As he asked me what I considered to be many odd questions, Wells seemed to keep glancing at my exposed arms. Just to check him out, I rubbed across my one hairy arm with the other hand and watched his eyes seem to widen as he stared. It was an encouraging sign. When he asked me about my career goals I was at a loss for words, and when he inquired as to my qualifications I had even less to say. Knowing that I didn't have a chance in hell for getting this job I decided to play my trump card. I pretended to have an itch near my throat and I pulled down the front of my shirt to scratch, fully aware that I was giving Wells a good look at my more than amply haired upper chest. "I'll tell you what Richard" he said, using a name that only my parents had used, and only when they were very angry with me. "I have to attend a convention this weekend in Cannes and Charlie (that's what he called Chip) can't possibly get away because of your sister's imminent delivery. How about if you come along on the trip and get a feel for the business we do and I'll decide whether to hire you after that?" "What about your wife, surely she'd like to go to the south of France for a week wouldn't she?" I asked, and Wells replied that Chip's mother preferred to be around for the birth of this grandchild -- should it happen. "Gee I dunno' Mr. Wells. I've got another interview tomorrow and unless you're willing to pay me for the week in Cannes I don't think I can afford to pass up a possible job". "Oh Richard, of course you'll be paid for the week, paid handsomely as well as having all your expenses covered. I'll call a friend of mine at the immigration department and get you a passport issued by the weekend". "Okay, sure!" I said, reaching out to accept the hand he offered me. It was a longer-than-typical handshake and I left his office smug in the confidence that he was as hot for me as I was for him. We flew first-class on the Concorde to London, then on to Monaco where a limo met us for the short drive to Cannes, right on the French Riviera. "Oh wow, I used to come here as a student and it wasn't nearly so developed as this!" he said. We polished off a bottle of champagne between the airport and the hotel, that being in addition to the near-constant supply of liquor we'd both had on the flight across the Atlantic. After checking into the hotel (the classiest on the Cote d'Azur) we dropped off our bags in connecting suites. Wells said he was expecting a conference call so I told him I was going down to the pool. Somehow I imagined that a phone could have been brought out when he got the call. It was almost as if he was avoiding going down to the pool with me. The trunks I'd worn to mow the lawn that day I finally got my hands (and mouth) on Chip would have been regarded as "conservative" compared to the pair I wore out to the pool at our hotel. I strutted out to the edge of the pool and went straight for the diving board, stood on the edge and very deliberately adjusted the tiny straps of the trunks before doing a 1 1/2 inward dive. There were plenty of eyes on me as I climbed out of the water, but I was only concerned with one pair. I glanced up to the twelfth floor of the hotel to see that Charles Wells Sr. was indeed watching out his window. I knew he would be! I moved over to one of the chaise lounges near the water's edge and smeared my body up with expensive oil. Again, I was very deliberate about running my hands over my hairy chest and legs and my butt, each motion carefully aimed in the direction of Wells' line of vision. I put on reflecting sunglasses and plopped down on the chair, occasionally looking up and always seeing Wells in the window. After a while I decided I'd teased enough and it was time to go give the man a close-up view. I gathered my things and pulled a robe on before going through the lobby of the hotel. Even wearing that I drew plenty of looks from other patrons there. Imagine if I'd come through wearing that string bikini that showed off my hairy buns and bulging basket. Wells and I were in connecting suites. I went in through my room and stripped off the robe, checked myself out in the mirror and knew I looked hot. There was still enough oil smeared all over my hairy body to make me sexy as hell, and even I got kind of excited at the sight. Imagine what it would do to Charles! I rapped on the door between our two rooms and didn't wait for an answer before going through. "Mr. Wells! Charles!" I called out, and got no answer. I figured he might be in the bathroom but the door was open and the room vacant. Damn! I went back to my room and saw the light on my phone was blinking, indicating that I had a message. It was from him, saying that he'd had to go meet a business associate but that he wanted me to join him for dinner in the main dining room at 8:00 PM. I knew just what to wear, and I spent a good deal of time getting ready. I showered and shaved, but shaved so as to leave the outline of a beard in the just beginning stages. My black tuxedo pants were so tight they appeared to be sprayed on. Even my skimpiest of underwear showed a line across my well-packed butt so I opted for none. The effect in front was.....well, you can imagine. For a shirt I chose a filmy gauzelike pirate shirt with billowing, puffy sleeves and no buttons. The two halves of the shirt came together just above the waistband of my slacks. The effect was fantastic, giving Wells (and anyone else who cared) an open view of my broad hairy chest. I went into the dining room and was given the message that I was to meet them in the bar. The "them" ended up being Charles, his business contact and the man's wife. (Hm, some men do bring their wives on these trips). Introductions were made and refills ordered for the others. Charles and the other man went back to their discussion leaving me to converse with the attractive wife. I could hear Charles talking to the other man, but I could see his eyes were on me the whole time. At the conclusion of their discussion the woman (her name was Mindy) suggested that maybe they should join us for dinner after all. Her gaze at my open shirt indicated that she was interested in more than food. "Nonsense Mindy, you two should have a night off" Charles said, adding that if he and her husband were sitting at the dinner table together the conversation would turn to boring business matters. "Go on, go on and enjoy yourselves!" he insisted. I could almost see him sigh in relief when the couple left the bar to head for some hot-spot for the evening. She suggested that we join them later at the casino/disco down the street. "Something tells me Rick's a wonderful dancer, aren't you?" she asked, and I admitted that I had done some in college. (I didn't bother to say that it was usually as a male stripper at a bar that catered to gays on Saturday nights after the regular crowd left). "Nice couple" I said nonchalantly as they left, and Wells made some reference to the fact that the woman had a history of seducing younger men. "Bob's too busy to see how she was eyeballing you in the bar" he said, and I was tempted to mention that he sounded a little jealous. We were seated a quiet out-of-the-way table and the waiter asked if we wanted to order cocktails. We each did and I commented on how different Europe was in not being concerned with legal drinking age. "Oh come on Rick, I can't believe you have trouble with that back in the States either. I mean, if I were a bar- tender and you came in looking like you do tonight I'd say you must be 25 or 26 years old." "You think it's the beard?" I asked him, baiting him to answer and he replied "No, I think it's that god-damned rug on your chest. Jesus kid you're hairy as a gorilla!" he blurted out and I apologized for having worn the shirt I did. "Hell Rick you can dress however you wish. It's just that you attract lots of...well...attention when you wear a shirt like this or swim trunks like...." and he stopped as the waiter brought our drinks. Yes! Without actually admitting it, he was saying that he'd noticed me down at the pool earlier. We ate dinner and he tried his best to talk about business things but somehow the topic of conversation kept returning to how I was dressed. "We don't have a dress code per se" he commented "but if you show up like that for work the secretarial pool will go wild!" ("How about the company president or his horny well-hung son?") I thought to myself. We finished dinner and the waiter suggested an after-dinner drink. "Why don't we have a brandy up in my suite?" he suggested, and he signed for the expensive dinner. "This is a beautiful place isn't it?" he said as we stepped off the elevator. "And the breeze coming off the Mediterranean makes air-conditioning unnecessary right?" he added. "Well yeah, but I have to admit that I'm a little warm. Must be all the drinks I've had today, not to mention the jet-lag" "And being out in the sun this afternoon" he added. "Let me slip into some more comfortable shorts and I'll be right in" I suggested, and I could almost see his eyes light up. "Don't be long, I might doze off" he said, and I thought to myself "Yeah, fat chance!" I could hear him make an audible gasp when I came through the door between our suites. I'd taken off the skin- tight pants and replaced them with a pair of loose-fitting nylon jogging shorts. I'd kept the shirt on but it was no longer closed at the bottom. Between my bare feet and the bottom of the running shorts was nothing but hairy, beefy leg. He handed me a snifter of brandy and I took a sip. "How about some dessert to go along with this?" I asked, and he said we could call room-service. "No, I'm not talking about food" I said, taking the glass from his hand and putting it down on the coffee table. Then I grabbed his free hand and placed it right on my hairy chest. "Isn't this what you wanted all through dinner?" I asked him. "Yeah, and this too!" he answered, leaning forward and pressing his mouth to mine. I thrust my tongue between his lips to let him know I was ready to do anything he wanted and he peeled my shirt off so that he could rake his hands through the thick blanket that coats my front. "You dig it don't yyou? You really get off on m hairy body don't you?" I said to him, and he panted excitedly as he admitted that he'd hardly been able to think of any- thing but me since I came in for the interview. "I could hardly wait to see if the rest of you is as hairy as your forearms were" he said as he ran his hands up and down the upper part of my arms over my bulging biceps and seeing the tattoo for the first time. "Oh wow, that's really hot!" he said, and he ran his tongue over the surface of my tattooed dragon figure. "Oh Rick, take your shorts off! I want to see your hairy ass!" he said, and I stepped back away from him and slipped my shorts off, doing one of my very best male strip-teases for him. As I removed the shorts I took special care to run my hands all over myself, over my well-coated thighs and my wonderfully hairy buns. I turned around, bent over and pulled my ass-cheeks apart to expose my furry chute to him and told him this was the "dessert" I wanted to offer him. "Oh shi-i-it!" he said, diving forward without need of any more encouragement. Over the years I've had my ass-hole eaten by plenty of fur-freaks, but none quite so hot as Charles Wells. Jesus, the man was like a vacuum cleaner with his face and tongue buried up my butt-hole. I'd started this whole scene being in complete control of the situation, but as he sucked and slobbered and dug his tongue up my hole I sstarted losing control myself It didn't take long before I was begging him to fuck me. "C'mon man, take your big cock and shove it up my hot wet hole!" I urged him, and I felt a long, thick piece of hard man-meat replace his tongue at the opening of my ass. "Aw yeah, fuck my ass! Fuck my hairy ass!" I screamed out, without concern that someone might hear us through the open window. Wells didn't get much business settled on that trip. I kept him busy with my hairy horny body for the next five days. We'd take turns sucking and fucking one another, my favorite series was to sit my furry butt on his face so he could rim me and get me good and wet while I leaned forward and sucked his big cock. Then I'd flip myself around and sit on the straight up meat while he ran his hands all over my rugged hairiness. Needless to say, I got the job at his company. There really hadn't been a position for me so he created one, that of administrative assistant and customer liaison. The salary I negotiated included a hefty expense account and an out-of-pocket bonus every time the boss fucked me. Connie's baby was born while Charles and I were doing it on the French Riviera, but Chip found out that his conjugal rights were not soon to be restored. It had been a difficult birth and Connie insisted that she didn't feel like having sex yet. Chip came to me for relief and I was tempted to use the old "like-father-like-son" cliché. Then I realized what a mistake that would be. Playing the two of them against one another I could insure that Charles would do whatever I asked to keep our affair quiet, just as Chip would. Between the two of them I was in great shape financially, with a secure future and plenty of hard raging cock to keep my hairy ass filled almost non-stop. The idea of making it with the two of them together really excites me, but I think the present situation is better "insurance".
