Gay Erotic Stories

The next morning I awoke with a boner. I was in a puddle of sun on the floor beside Alice’s bed. Someone had thrown a comforter over me, and I had had a deep and restful night.

Lying there, I could have had no idea how I would wind up this day, lying between Alice and my young uncle, my face covered with her quim and his cum, with his seed deep within my body, and with her caressing my leg with her face and he giving me the most exquisite jacking any man ever had received. I threw the comforter aside, rose from the carpet and stumbled, naked, to the bathroom to piss. Just when I was shaking off, my uncle opened the door and reached over with a hand on either cheek, pulled my face to his and gave me a big, fat kiss on the lips. With a smile he said, “She likes you, Mikey”. Reaching down with his right hand he gave my cock a friendly squeeze. “Actually, I think she loves you!”

I pulled on a tee shirt and my shorts and walked into the sunny kitchen. Alice and Mike had been up more than an hour. Alice looked up -- God! She was beautiful! What a smile! What a face! What a body! --And said in her cheeriest manner, “Good morning, Sunshine!” And she took a couple of steps my way and drawing close, surprised me by giving me a pleasant buss right on the cheek. It was somewhat sisterly, but it pleased the shit right out of me! And being--if just for a moment -- that close, her scent drove me wild. It was fresh, and subtle rather than blatant, but for me it was a very powerful stimulant, and it caused my dick to chub up, uselessly of course, and potentially embarrassingly.

They were ready for a quick morning run, while it was still cool and refreshing. I pulled on my shoes and in just a few minutes we were out the door. There was an agreeable path running through the valley meadow that Alice’s patio overlooked, down by a hillside spotted with California oaks, and back up to the crest of the hill above Allie’s place. At a mild pace it was a 40-minute jog. I think by design Mike lagged just a little behind, giving Alice and me an opportunity to talk. She asked me about my college plans, and I said that I had my eye on Stanford, “just like Mike,” and that in fact during the state baseball championship a couple of months ago I was scouted by Stanford’s eastern recruiting team. It was a possibility.

Alice went on, “But what do you want out of college, Mikey?” I didn’t hesitate. I pretty much gave her chapter and verse from a book I’d just finished, The Aims of Education, though I didn’t expressly cite it. With a smile, she abashed me inadvertently when she went, “So I see you’ve been reading Alfred North Whitehead.” She knew his work well, including The Aims. She said that indeed Stanford was exactly the sort of place where I could have an experience that Whitehead would have endorsed. She introduced some of the main notions in process philosophy, but it was clear I didn’t know anything about it. But we did move on to Necessity, Utility, Honor, and Fidelity. I knew nothing of the world; I had had almost no experience of it. You couldn’t have found a more innocent character within a country mile.

But that didn’t stop me from dilating upon these large notions with the callow and idealistic enthusiasm of the high school senior. Fortunately we talked on a Wednesday, because Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I was a Utilitarian; the other days a firm Positivist. Alice was (I now realize) very indulgent of me, but also she seemed to listen to what I had to say.

Back at Alice’s Mike and I jumped in the truck, and Alice followed in her Jeep as we headed to the new house that they would be moving into, just a little closer to Stanford’s campus. Mike’s company arranged the financing for its key employees; otherwise it would have been impossible for even well-paid staffers like Mike to buy homes in that absurdly fevered market.

Mike and I made fairly quick work of unloading the truck, Alice directing us where to take things. The last thing to come out was a large, beautiful antique Tabriz carpet that my granddad had bought in Iran a half century ago while he was there on business. Mike was carrying the front end of the roll, and I was carrying the back. Alice said, “Wow, from the rear, if it weren’t for your yellow floppy hair, Mikey, I wouldn’t be able to tell you from your uncle.” There’s almost nothing in the world that she could have said that would have pleased me more.

I knew I had the same general athletic frame as Mike, the same broad shoulders, and I knew could imitate Mike’s deliberate masculine swagger if I wanted (and I often did while on stage playing with my band, and sauntering around the ball field). But I had no idea that I might also have something of the feline grace that was so natural to him, and that I always associated with him. I fairly swelled with pride.

After we had set the carpet down and unrolled it where Allie specified. “It was fucking gorgeous!” she said, “C?mere Mike, stand right here. And Mikey, you stand right behind him, back to back. And so we did, heel-to-heel, calf-to-calf, butt-to-butt, and shoulder-to-shoulder, while Alice looked on judgmentally. “Okay,” she said, “it’s clear that Mikey has you by an inch in height. And standing in front of me and holding out her arms as if to guide her vision, “And it looks as if maybe his shoulders are just a little bit broader, too. Now put your hands together.” I turned toward Mike and held up my right hand, palm outward, and he turned around and lined up his palm to palm with mine. They were identical. Alice goes, “Okay, pull off your shirts.” I looked at Mike and said softly, “Uh, I don’t think?”

He just looked at me and said quietly, “Just do it.”

Now all the advantage lay to Mike. I knew I was a well-built big kid, possessed of the same genes that Mike had. But Mike’s arms and forearms made mine look kind of, well, undeveloped, in comparison, and his chest was really big compared to mine, and his big thighs and highly developed calves were far more impressive than mine. With my schoolwork, three sports, my music and my band, dating and everything else, I didn’t really have time to be a serious gym rat. I worked out regularly as part of my sports training, but it wasn’t a six-day-a-week thing. I did start every day with a couple of hundred crunches, though, and my abs were just as defined as Mike’s. (Actually, I was still growing and developing and putting on muscle mass, and eventually I too would have the development that Mike did--but not now, not at barely 18). Nor did I have the manly spread of body hair that Mike exhibited so luxuriously on his chest and on his abs and belly. While I had just as much sun-bleached golden hair on my arms and legs as he did, and a lot of thick dark blond hair on my lower belly, and a well-defined accumulation both above and below my navel, on my chest I had only the dense fine golden vellous hair that prefigures the development of mature ‘terminal’ hair that I would eventually exhibit.

The reason I didn’t want to take off my tee shirt was that standing back to back with my uncle, butt to butt, hairy calf to hairy calf, I had helplessly sprung a boner that was quite noticeably tenting out my little shorts. It had been somewhat concealed by the tee shirt, but now without it, it was all too evident, and this remarkable scrutiny of my body by Alice wasn’t helping any.

“What’s that, Mikey?” she mischievously asked. “You trying to get the message across that you’re just as big a man as your uncle? Fat chance of that! Cocks the size of your uncle’s don’t show up every day, and I think I know.”

“Don’t be so sure about Mikey,” Mike mildly observed.

In a capricious mood, and curious too, Alice just said, “Well, let’s see about that,” and she came over to me and, totally amazing me, just pulled my little shorts down to the floor, and my cock sprang free. It had been turgid, but now it grew absolutely steely in no time.

Alice said, “Hey, that looks pretty damn familiar. Mike, come over here.” She pulled down Mike’s shorts, and of course by now he too was totally rigid and erect. She said, “Stand right here,” arranging us face to face, and with her hands on Mike’s shoulders, she manoeuvred him a little bit this way and that until we were lined up precisely opposite one another and less than ten inches apart. Using her little right hand, and a fair amount of pressure, she forced Mike’s cock down to a position 90 degrees from his belly; and with her left hand, she did the same to me. Her touch was abso-fucking-lutely electric to me. “Mike move in another inch or so,” she commanded. With that little bit more adjustment, his cock and mine were precisely side by side, touching their entire lengths, his cockhead nestled in my pubic hair and firmly against my groin, and, reciprocally, my cockhead was buried in his public hair and firmly against his skin. It was plain that the two cocks were as alike as two peas in a pod.

But though it was obvious that we had the exact same length, and shape too, Alice declared that she wasn’t entirely certain about the girth. With a smile she said, “We’ll just see. Come over here” indicating the old Persian carpet “and lay down.” Grabbing my left hand in her right and Mike’s right in her left, she tugged us over to the carpet and she knelt, rather recalling a geisha’s posture, and pointed to a place just to her left for Mike, and to her right for me. We wound up exactly parallel and only eighteen inches apart, with Allie kneeling right between Mike’s right knee and my left one. She said, “Okay, guys, lace your fingers together behind your heads,” and she seized Mike’s cock in her left hand and mine in her right, adjusting her grip so that her hands were both precisely symmetrically placed on our cocks, and she closed her eyes, and moved them around, testing and feeling the twin dicks. For Mike it may well have been business as usual, but for me it was incredibly unbearable! The very situation I found myself in, as absurd as it was, had already wound me up like an e-string on a too-sharp violin; I had felt almost close to some breaking point I did not understand. Then Alice’s touch drove me almost crazy. I had felt that I was in grave danger of exploding in response to her very first touch when she was testing the gauge and diameter of my cock. However, I somehow overmastered the urgency I felt, and managed to will some measure of control into my almost bursting phallus. And Alice began to jack us slowly, ever so slowly. It was un-fucking-incredible, but amazingly, I felt I was gaining some measure of control over my cock and my will. I looked over to Mike, and he was gazing at me. He extended his right arm to me, and in response I reached out to him, and grasped his hairy forearm it with my left hand, and he took hold of my own forearm with his right hand.

Alice, well experienced along this line, wasn’t merely going through the motions like a twenty-dollar whore. She was putting everything she had into it, working us now with wicked gentleness, now with great firmness, but always in synchrony. Crazily, the main theme of “Mondo Cane” filtered into some corner of my consciousness, no matter how I tried to suppress it, but in any case, eventually I knew I was totally losing control and I’m sure Allie knew it too, and she eased up momentarily. And then, slowly she resumed her magic. But the respite had not been enough, and I erupted like a little Vesuvius, jetting cum into the air, and it landed in part on her arm, in part on my belly, and a lot of it wound up on the beautiful Tabriz. My release proved to be the irresistible trigger for Mike, too, and he, too, spewed his load on Alice, his hairy chest, and the rug. I lay there, truly, profoundly mentally exhausted, with Allie’s little hand on my thigh.

Satisfied, Alice smiled like an angel down at me, and said, “Okay, I stand corrected. Mikey, your cock is, in my expert judgment, just as big and just as fat and just as hard as Mike’s. And, kissing my still sloppy cockhead, almost as dear to me!” I couldn’t have been more amazed than if Princess Di had materialized in the room and kissed my spunky cock.

She glanced over to Mike, who gave her a certain look, but he didn’t say a word. “God, Honey, I’d LOVE to, but we just don’t have the time. Already I’ll be late for the caterer.”

Though my world was still kind of spinning around me, we cleaned up as well as we could. Actually it amounted to wiping up the cum with our tee-shirts (that’s all we had in the new house); put on our shorts and now funky shirts and locked up the new place. While Alice had her errands, Mike and I had our own business to conduct. Mike kissed Allie deeply and, and before she jumped into her jeep, she gave me a little peck on the cheek too. Our first stop was at Mike’s barbershop, since the wedding was now in only three days, and between now and then there were the rehearsal dinner and other stuff. It was close to 2 pm, when we walked in and we were the only patrons. We sat in two chairs, side by side, so that we could easily see each other in the mirrors that covered the sidewalls of the shop. Mike said we wanted shaves and haircuts. Getting shaved in the barbershop can be a sensuous experience, with the hot towels, the hot lather, and the cool, clean feel of the straight razor, stropped and re-stropped repeatedly during the process of cleaning off the goatees that Mike and I had grown during our trip across America (as detailed in the series Cross-Country with My Uncle).

As the golden chin whiskers disappeared, our familiar strong jaw lines reemerged, and our square chins reappeared. The mirrors showed Mike’s image and mine, now seemingly more similar than I had ever recalled before. Satisfied with the results, Mike then looked around and pointed to a picture of a model with a hairstyle rather shorter than he had worn for years. He said to the barber, “Like that?” He said to me, “I haven’t cleared this with Alice, and it’s going to be a pretty big surprise to her. What the hell!” The barber’s clippers buzzed and Mike’s medium-length, moderately curly medium blond locks began to accumulate on the floor around the chair.

At the spur of the moment I said to my barber, “Gimme that too.” I was almost surprised when the words tumbled out of my mouth, because I had worn the same rather floppy hairstyle for several years, but I was getting sick of it, and anyway who needed all that hair working on a dude ranch anyway? (That would be my summer job to begin a few days after the wedding.) And my rather paler yellow hair began to fall to the floor also.

In only a few minutes the barber’s work was done. Mike’s handsome curls had disappeared, as had my trademark light blond locks. The changes were pretty dramatic, but what we had not expected was that suddenly, with the shaves, and now the haircuts, we looked quite eerily alike. Not like identical twins of course, but like those kinds of brothers who look like they were produced with the same genetic cookie cutter. We both realized it at the same time. As for me, I was stunned, and the new likeness we shared somehow magnified my soul. I couldn’t attribute that kind of feeling to Mike, but he did seem damn pleased, displaying a great big grin, and clapping me heartily on the back, saying, “I can’t wait until Allie and our moms see us. They won’t be able to believe it!”

We had another stop, the tailor’s shop where we were fitted for our tuxes. With our athletic builds, a little bit out of the ordinary run of guys, there was a certain amount of adjustment necessary, especially for Mike with his still bigger chest and arms and thighs. But the thing about tuxes is that they are uniforms that are designed to minimize, as much as possible, the differences between guys’ wildly varying physiques. When the tailors were finished and we stood side-by-side looking into the mirror, we again stunned by the new congruence between us. The fact that Mike had a bigger chest and arms and legs was minimized and (though I was an inch taller than he was) it was unbelievable at the changes the last two hours had wrought--the degree to which our looks had converged. Once again, my heart sang; and Mike seemed pleased. The tailors packaged up the monkey suits, and we were on our way, and soon back to Alice’s house. Getting home, we quickly showered and put on the tuxes, and waited for Alice’s arrival, which wasn’t long in coming. “I’m ho-ome,” she called out and Mike walked into the living room. “Mike,” she cried, brightening, “you look wonderful! You’ve always been the handsomest brute I’ve ever known, but you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do at this moment. I like the new haircut, good choice.” And flinging her arms around Mike she reached up and kissed his face, the first time she’d seen him smooth since before he flew to Pennsylvania.

Mike gave a signal with his finger, and I walked in. Allies eyes almost popped, her jaw literally dropped, for I was Mike’s Doppelganger. “Oh, my god,” she goes. “I can’t believe it. It’s like I have two of you, Mike. This is weird. It’s wonderful,” she added, “but weird.” And she drew me into her embrace with Mike and kissed my face too. I felt like ten feet tall. I especially liked that she said, “I have two of you,” loving the notion that she thought she possessed me.

Mike and I quickly shifted into our tee shirts and shorts again, and the three of us working together in the kitchen put on some green beans and rice and assembled a salad to go with the skinless roasted chicken Allie had picked up, and soon back on the patio we were dining, as dusk gathered. Despite all the remaining things that had to be done, between before the wedding, the out of town guests would soon be gathering, etc., our dinner was relaxed, and we shared general conversation. I volunteered to clean up the dishes and as I was finishing, Mike came into the kitchen and spoke quietly to me.

“Mikey,” he said. “Allie and I have talked, and here are the ground rules for tonight. You’re invited into our bed, but you’re not to speak unless absolutely necessary, and as our guest we will take care of you, but you are should consider very carefully before you touch either of us. If you are wise, you will play your hand very conservatively. Generally, you’ll just be following my instructions, but for god’s sake, see if you can read signals and gestures and impute intentions. I don’t want to have spell anything out for you.” Lest all this sounded too harsh and calculated, he leaned over to me and kissed my ear and repeated quietly, “We’ll take care of you. We’ve decided to use the computer-controlled lighting again; it just seems to simplify what a situation that is intrinsically just a little bit awkward. But you get to pick the music tonight.”

He led me to a laptop that was part of the house’s local area network, and showed me the music directory. There must have been more than a thousand tunes there. After a few minutes of confusion, I just opened the list called “FuckMix 9,” one of two-dozen such files they had already put together. It had several favorite tunes of mine, and so I selected that. Mike said, “Fine,” and pushed a few keys. He told me to go into the already darkened bedroom and take off my clothes and wait on the bed.

I threw off my clothes and crawled onto the big king-sized bed, and never I think in my life with so much anticipation and excitement. My cock was of course rockhard. The soft Egyptian cotton sheet caressed my body, but I was in such a heightened state of sensitivity that instead of soothing me, it was as if I felt every thread of the 450-count weave separately and individually as I moved ever so slightly over the expanse, for the time being alone. Absurd, I know.

Soon the impossibly mellow strains of David Sunborn’s alto sax begin floating from somewhere. “Try a Little Tenderness.” But of course I was unsoothable.

The sound of the bathroom door opening in the dark, and then a little padding of feet, and from the air I sensed the delicate but unmistakable scent of Alice. The bed shook but only slightly, but it was certain that she was lying parallel to me, only a couple of feet away. Unable to help myself I trembled, but did not move a muscle. And then in the darkness I sensed slightly the musky scent of my young uncle, just as I heard somewhat heavier footfalls, and from the foot of the bed more activity, as he crawled in between us, the hair of his forearm brushing casually along my hip as he made his way up the bed, and then his hairy calf was slightly, but sensibly, adjacent to mine, and I heard the unmistakable sounds of tiny kisses.

And now it was Otis Redding, “These Arms of Mine,” in the air, and from the former utter darkness I began slowly to discern the form of my uncle across the bed, surtopped by what was surely the form of Alice, enfolded in his arms. As the light grew stronger, I saw that they were locked in a deep kiss, and that she had her two hands on his face, his big arms tenderly wrapped around her back; and her legs, each of them, were extended down his; and barely visible, between backs of her soft thighs was Mike’s cockhead, his cock being nestled right in her very crotch, grasped by her pussy and her two thighs. She was moving her hips very, very slightly, as I sat up and moved toward the bottom of the bed to enhance my viewing. The scent of sex pervaded the room overwhelmingly. I certainly was generating it myself, that I knew, but all I could smell was the rich scent of Alice, and, secondarily, my uncle’s musk.

With me at the foot of the bed, there was plenty of room for my uncle to roll the two of them over, so that Alice was on her back, with her arms now widespread, and I quickly shifted back to the right of the bed and crept back up toward the head. Mike crouched over her, with his right knee between her legs, and she snuggled her pussy right onto his firm, hairy lower thigh, just above the knee, and began slowly, almost subtly, rubbing herself up and down along it. It evidently only took a travel of two inches or so to yield her deep satisfaction. Mike’s other knee was on her right, and as he bent over her, supporting his upper body with his left elbow between her body and her right arm. His magnificent cock was hovering a few inches above her middle. The smell of her moistness nearly drove me fucking crazy.

From this perspective I had by far the best view I had yet had of Allie’s amazing breasts. They were as firm and shapely as those of Botticelli’s Venus; but they were proportionately larger and riper. They were complete perfection--youthful and firm, and also lush. I had dated some of the best-looking girls in my high school, some of them really big-chested, but none of them nearly approached the perfection of balance between ripeness and luxury on the one hand and firmness and shapeliness on the other. In the gathering light Mike made a simple sign to me, hardly more than the crook of a finger, I drew near to her left side, supporting myself somewhat awkwardly on my all fours.

Mike leaned down and, with his first kiss on her right breast, Allie yielded up a deep, satisfied sigh. But then while Mike was gently kissing her right breast, I leaned down and took the nipple of her left breast between my tender lips, and Alice’s body suddenly gave a profound shudder, as though a current of electricity had run through her, and from her lips came a very deep sigh, and I heard, faintly, her say, “Oh! Oh my god.” As I continued tenderly kissing and licking and sucking, suddenly I felt the gentle touch of her left hand on the crown of my head, and then, so gently I did was not sure it had happened, a tiny touch on my right ear, and then again a tiny hand in what remained of my hair. I could tell that her own motion of her pussy along Mike’s knee was slow, steady and continuing, and Mike and I grew well into our work.

I tried to restrain myself, but inevitably my kisses grew moister and moister, almost to the verge of sloppiness. Alice’s tiny cries were less tiny now, “Oh, OH, OH!!” and her work against Mike’s knee far more vigorous, until at last in a crescendo of activity, she suddenly ceased motion, grew stiff, and it seemed as if wave after wave of pleasure was propagating over her.

Mike ceased his kisses, and with a preemptory elbow, I was pushed away from her breast, and I meekly retreated to the side of the bed, and Mike placed his left hand right where I had been crouching. Simultaneously, he moved left his knee also between Alice’s legs, which she now spread widely. Flexing his great abs, he introduced the head of his cock into her vulva, but he did not send home his shaft. I moved quickly to a station at the foot of the bed, right behind Mike’s butt, and between her widely parted legs, but I was touching nothing. I was remarkably close to their partial union, my face just inches away, and the scent was truly overwhelming. I watched in fascination as my uncle used just the head of his cock to massage and stroke the top end of her vulva, the spot where her clitoris nestled. Without ever entering her vagina, but expertly flexing his lower trunk muscles, with his big cockhead he teased her bud, and stroked the site of her most precious delights. Meanwhile, he was kissing her about the neck and ears, thrilling her; and she worked the fingers of both hands into his chest hair . She couldn’t last much longer under Mike’s loving attack on her clitoris, especially since she had started already from a very heightened state of readiness, and with three last penile caresses on her nubbin, it seemed to me that she nearly had a seizure of some sort. I could see her trunk muscles contract in waves, and her legs clearly trembled, and it was hopeless for her to suppress or minimize her cries, and over Willie Nelson’s soft and slow “Stardust,” I heard “Yes, YES, *Y*E*S*!!!! God, I love you, Mike. God, I love you! I love you, I LOVE YOU!” And she threw her arms around his big chest and pulled herself off the bed and up to him and drilled her tongue deep into his mouth, before collapsing again onto the bed, tapped, exhausted--done.

But Mike was not done. It seemed he’d hardly begun. Using his powerful and flexible trunk muscles he raised his hips and then slowly introduced the head of his great cock into vestibule of her vagina, parting her labia minora slightly, and filling that space gently, and causing a new thrill to propagate up and down the length of her legs. That’s all he did, and she was thrilling, helplessly. Then, with practiced deliberation, he pushed into her vagina proper with just the head of his cock. Already she teetered on the precipice of another full orgasm, and aided by the slickiness that Alice was producing, slowly he penetrated another inch; and then withdrew and held his cock almost entirely outside her body, so that the big, defined firm-edged rim of his cockhead teased the outer inch of her vagina. This favorite trick he worked until she could stand it no more and begged him, pleaded for him to penetrate her completely. But again, he did it with great deliberation until his cock was entirely within her for the first time tonight, its end pressing against her cervix deep within her, and its fat length filling her and paradoxically both satisfying her and causing her to lust for more, more, more. Now Mike displayed his coxmanship to the maximum, using now long, full, hard strokes in series; cocking his hips just so to make sure that every millimeter of its hard, veiny length caressed her clitoris with every stroke; and then alternating with more teasing, shorter strokes. With each full stroke, his big fat balls were drawn up to her pussy, further stimulating both Alice and Mike; and GOD KNOWS, me!

I was now crouched between Mike’s widespread legs (which were in turn between Alice’s still more wide-spread legs). There was barely room for me, but I turned my shoulders so that I could just fit, though I brushed his hairy upper thighs on both sides. I drew my head closer and closer to their union, and Mike could sense exactly where I was. He could, I’m sure feel my breath upon his balls, and he penetrated Alice deeply and held his position, and I heard him mutter softly, “It’s okay, guy.” And I took that as permission to lick his wonderful balls. Craning my neck, I found that I was able to lick them easily, now completely perfumed with Alice’s wonderful moisture. And when Mike begin to move again, his movements were subtle and predictable, and extending my tongue to the maximum, I found that his balls traveled across my tongue with each of his smaller strokes.

Then he shifted somewhat, and to my surprise, withdrew completely, and somehow he raised the front of his body so that his cock rode free and clear of Alice’s lower belly. Again I heard his voice low and gutteral, “It’s okay, man.” And with that, I extended my tongue and lapped at Alice’s sweet pussy, opened wide. She gave a deep, throaty “Yes! YES! *Y*E*S*!” and moaned. Though the space available was limited, there was just enough room for me to lap and kiss her wonderful cunny. It was the first time in well over a week that she had had a genital kiss, since Mike had been gone a full week and when he came home he was bristling with the new goatee, and he had not wished to abrade her in the slightest in her tenderest place. Now, of course, I was cleanly shaven.

Even as I was anxiously, lovingly kissing and lapping and sucking Alice’s dear cunny, I reached up and with my right hand stroked Mike’s balls, a very few inches above me.

In another moment or two, I heard Mike’s voice say, “Later.” That’s it, but it was clear what he meant, and I pulled away from their groins somewhat, and Mike reintroduced his powerful cock, with even more deliberation than ever. Again, Alice sighed and moaned, “Mike, MIKE, MIKE!!!”

Now, at last, while Elvis Costello starting “Almost Blue,” he began a stately, controlled, full-stroke fucking. It was wonderful to see his strong, hairy butt flexing with every stroke, and I felt honored to be able to witness the majestic beauty of his cock entering and withdrawing dear Alice’s body with such relentlessness. Alice’s breath was growing shorter and shorter again, and then she took a mighty gasp and once again shuddered helplessly, and no more than ten seconds later, once again, and under Mike’s merciless reaming, still yet again. She begged him to relent, and he grew still, but entirely within her. Presently though, she began to wiggle her pussy a little to left and right, and cocking her hips, waggle it a little up and down his shaft-- no more than an inch of travel, really-- and that was a signal for him to resume.

Which he did with a vengeance, for he was now very close to his limit of toleration. With another set of hard, almost brutal strokes, she again collapsed into another small fit, and, above her, Mike stiffened noticeably, and, close as I was, I could see tiny but unmistakable evidences of one penile spasm after another, and I knew he was pumping his seed deep into her.

He remained motionless for a moment longer, while he one more time deeply fucked her mouth with his tongue, and then finally licked and kissed her neck and ears and eyelids; and finally he sort of rolled and sort of sprang aside, and lay to Allie’s right, his chest heaving somewhat, but not as much as hers, for she had been well and truly fucked.

Rather casually, Mike glanced down to me, still between Allie’s legs, and signed to me, with hardly more than a wave of single finger and a pleasant smile. Finally free to move easily, I knelt on my knees right between Allie’s legs, and supporting myself also with my hands on either side of her slim waist, I resumed as delicately as I could, my genital kisses. Allie’s pussy was now truly sopping, overpoweringly rich with her scent and with the intensely male odor of Mike.

Alice reacted again with a kind of shock to my first tiny touch with my tongue, going “OOOOOH.” But then she settled down and relaxed a bit, and placed both of her little hands on my head, as I progressed from the tiniest kisses and lingual probes to larger and larger motions as I lapped up the heady combination of her scented quim and Mike’s rich cum. She moaned “Mikey, Mikey, Mikey,” again and again and again, and stroked my hair and my ears. I was emotionally totally overwhelmed. All I could think of, cycling again and again and again in the first chamber of my mind was “Oh, how I love Mike! And God, how very much I love Allie! If there is a heaven, I am in it this very moment! Oh, how I love Mike! And God, how very much I love Allie!”

Finally I had cleaned and tidied her pussy as well as it was going to be tonight, and I turned my attention from her labia and vestibula to her secret little nubbin. There I thought I knew I was on familiar turf where I knew exactly what to do with my tongue and lips, and I was correct. From a state of semi-relaxation, I roused her to another pitch of fever, and calling my name again and again, she still yet once more fell into sensual overload, and stiffened and thrilled and finally swooned, or something near to it. Her chest heaving more than ever before I think, she was truly exhausted, hardly capable of anything further.

During all this my uncle had rolled over to watch, and eventually raised himself up on one elbow to get a better view. As I had worked, it was only a matter of a glance to my left to see that his great penis was showing unmistakable signs of new and not to be denied life. It was in fact, soon as big and strong as ever, and he leaned over to kiss Alice again, and she said, “Oh, Mike. I just couldn’t. Not now. I think I’m just totally fatigued.” But then very sweetly she reached over and gently stroked him on the forearm and said, ?”Do Mikey. I’m sure he’d love it. And I can help a little.”

Mike told me to lie down on my back, alongside Alice, who shifted somewhat so that she could raise herself up on one elbow and lean over and kiss my face, and with her other arm caress my neck, my chest, and my belly.

In a humorous aside, during this interlude FuckMix9 was spinning out the plangent and slightly off-key “More than Words,” by Extreme. Evidently it was a little joke between Alice and Mike that such a charmingly naìve and goofy song could be sandwiched between so much truly sublime music. Hell, I liked it too, but I had to imagine the smiles that the song must be putting on Alice and Mike’s faces.

Mike took a position between my long, hairy legs, and kindly stroking them gently, raised them up onto his big shoulders, and turning his head to his left, kissed my right calf in a dozen places; and then turning to his right, tenderly kissed my left again and again. I was near emotional overload.

Alice had passed him the container of lubricant and, shifting under my legs a bit, leaned down and gently tongued my anus, and gently kissed it, and then applied a generous gob of lube on it; and then grasped my iron-like penis and kissed it all over, and gently patted my balls. Rising back to his knees, he slathered lube onto his own cock from tip to root, and then pressed in just the very tip of his cockhead, as he had done back in Galena for the first time.

Meanwhile, Alice was continuing to kiss me about the eyes, the nose, the mouth, the chin, the neck. For someone who undoubtedly was truly fatigued, she was really making an effort. And yet I didn’t think it was merely a good-faith effort. I could not help myself from thinking that she loved me, really loved me. That’s certainly what she whispered in my ear!

And with her free hand, she stroked my chest, my abs, and played with the hair that grew thickly above and below my navel. And just above my navel stood throbbing my cockhead, easily in reach of her gentle touches. Extending her arm, should she could just reach the base of my cock as well, but it was a stretch for her. She was not really well situated to give me a quality jacking, but that was all right: She’d already done that once today to my intense amazement and unmitigated joy!

Mike moved on from playing with my sphincter with the corona of his glans and settled down to some serious butt-fucking, the way only he could. It was again a joy to be united with him. The very thought of it alone was enough almost to cause me to cum. Holding my big thighs in his palms he graciously massaged them as he worked. When Alice pulled away for a moment from the long series of gentle kisses she was placing all over my head and face, Mike smiled down at me, and grinned over to Alice, and continued his work, now with more finesse, more art, so that I felt every nuance of his union with me.

Presently I felt him establishing what was almost certainly his terminal rhythm and prepared for the culmination, which was not long coming. I felt within me the repeated spasms that signified his deposition, deep within me, of the ultimate essence of his unique personhood.

Now the lights dimmed, and but I knew the music had several more tracks to go, since Chris Isaak was still singing.

Mike slowly and tenderly lowered my legs to the bed, stroking their entire lengths with his hands.

Alice shifted away, and Mike lay beside on the right, and said, “C’mere little buddy.” He directed me to lie between them so that my feet were toward their heads. Alice, facing to the right, gently placed my left calf against her face and softly kissed it, and stroked it. My uncle told me to throw my right leg across his big, hirsute chest, and reaching between my now widely splayed legs with his right hand, he found my raging cock. Pouring more lube into his right hand, he began the most sensuous, gentle, but firm, masturbation I had ever endured. Earlier tonight he said, “We’ll take care of you,” and he redeemed his promise in spades, with a jacking that must have lasted twenty minutes.

In my condition that was only possible using the most knowing arts and carefully, to balance urgency and restraint. It was nothing calculated, like my wicked four-dozen strokes back in the Nevada hotel (see chapter 13 of Cross-country with my Uncle), instead it was inventive, interactive, so he took account of my condition in effect in little feedback loops. Finally, with the fading of the last strains of the last tune, Tuck and Patti’s version of “My Romance,” my uncle brought me to ultimate release, in thrill after thrill and one spasm after another. No man ever, I felt sure, had ever been so happy, so suffused with pure and unalloyed joy.

And so ended my second night of five with my uncle and Alice.