Stan the Stud
As I rested on my knees with one dick in my mouth and another dick in my right hand, I felt a sudden sensation in my pants that almost made me lose my nut right then and there. My phone, which was in the front pocket of my jeans, began vibrating and stimulating my rock-hard cock, pressed right against it.
"Ah, shit!" I moaned, extracting the dick from my mouth and pulling out my phone; I didn't wanna cum just yet and the vibrations would definitely push me over the edge. For a brief moment, I glanced at the screen and saw the word "Dad" on the caller ID.
I knew this must be important – my father was a texter, not a caller. Still, I was in the middle of a hookup, and whatever it was would have to wait. I left the phone on the floor and tried to ignore its buzzing.
"Fuckin' suck my dick," the man named Hector growled at me, shoving his tool back in my mouth. Then, Hector turned to his left and gave his boyfriend Casey a kiss. My right hand went back to jacking Casey off.
I'd met the couple on an app a few weeks ago, and this was my fifth or sixth time visiting their Queens apartment. Casey was just a couple of years older than me and went to college here in the city. Hector was a bit older than that, but I didn't mind – I had a thing for older guys. They both thought I was a high school senior about to graduate, when in fact I was a junior.
Thirty seconds later, my dad gave up and my phone stopped vibrating on the floor. I took turns sucking Hector and Casey off, all while they made out and ran their fingers through my hair. Hector's pubic bush was extremely unruly, tickling my nose as I gobbled his prick down to the hilt. His sweaty musk overwhelmed my sense of smell. Judging by his clothes, Hector was a contractor, and I found that incredibly sexy.
Just as I took his cock out of my mouth to catch my breath, my phone buzzed again, this time with a text from my father.
"r u ok?"
"Just a second, guys," I told the kissing couple as I reached for my phone and typed a quick reply to Dad: "fine. busy. i'll call u soon."
Casey grabbed my hair and shoved his cock back in my mouth at the same time as I read Dad's text back. "ok. love u."
Now I definitely knew something was off! It's not that my father NEVER told me he loved me but, like, he didn't do it all the time, and he definitely didn't sign messages that way normally. Something was wrong. I did my best to ignore the nagging feeling in my stomach as I switched back to sucking Hector. I worked hard for it, now eager to wrap things up.
A couple of minutes later, Hector flooded my gullet with his salty nut. Unable to control himself, Hector's boyfriend exploded and came all over my black T-shirt.
"Sorry about that," Casey apologized a few moments later, handing me a towel to clean up my shirt.
"It's fine," I assured him.
"You didn't get to cum," Hector pointed out.
"No big deal. Let's save it for next time," I said with a wink.
"Mmm, sounds good," he smiled, smacking my butt. "And when do we get to fuck this tight ass of yours?"
"Soon," I flirted back, giving Hector a kiss as a way of avoiding his question. The truth was: I was a virgin, and I wasn't sure if I was quite ready to take a dick as big as Hector's up my ass. "I gotta go. My dad is waiting for me," I announced after sucking on Hector's tongue for a few seconds.
"Yeah right, your dad. It's probably your next fuck buddy," Hector teased me.
"Probably," Casey chuckled. "I'm telling you, this kid gets like fifty messages the second he logs into an app. I've seen his phone."
"Is that true?" Hector patted my ass in my tight jeans.
"Well, I wouldn't say fifty," I said coyly. "Maybe twenty."
I gave both the contractor and the college student a kiss goodbye, promising I would see them again soon. Little did I know, I would be forced to break my promise.
"YOU WANT US TO MOVE OUT OF NEW YORK?" I shouted at my father incredulously.
"I don't want us to: we have to," he insisted, pacing back and forth in our living room. The room was small, only allowing a few steps in each direction. "Since I lost my job, I can't afford to pay rent no more. And your uncle's offering really good money and a free place to live."
"Then you go live with him! I'll stay with mom, I'll crash on her couch," I suggested desperately.
"Nash, your mother and her boyfriend live in a one-bedroom apartment with a three-year-old and a six-month-old."
"I don't care, I'll figure it out," I insisted, running through a list of people I could stay with in my head. As much as I hated to admit it, the truth was: there was no one.
"Son, I'm not happy about this either," Dad said, finally taking a seat next to me on the couch. "You only have a year and a half of school left and I'm sure you don't wanna start somewhere new."
"Yeah," I nodded, even though that wasn't particularly true. I didn't care about school either way; I just didn't want to leave the city. "But Maine, Dad?! Seriously?!"
"Your Uncle Stan is the closest family I have other than you," Dad said. "I know you don't know him too well, and that's my fault for not taking you up to see him more often. But when you were little you loved to visit."
"Yeah, cuz I was a kid. He literally lives in the middle of the woods. What the fuck am I gonna do there?"
"You're gonna finish school. You're gonna get a job and save your money. And then after you graduate, if you wanna come back to New York, you can do that."
"What kinda job can I even get there? Fishing for lobster?"
"No, but I do appreciate you coming up with ideas," Dad said coolly. "Your uncle's a contractor, and lately he's been building and renovating more houses than ever. Apparently there's a lot of people moving to more rural areas like the one where he lives."
"Fuckin' weirdos," I rolled my eyes.
"Well those weirdos are making your uncle a lot of money. He can always use an extra set of hands, and when I told him I lost my job here he invited us to go live with him. I've done construction work before and he'll teach you what you need to know to help out. If you work on the weekends and over the summer, you'll be able to save a TON of money by the time you're 18. Then you can do whatever the fuck you want."
"Fine," I acquiesced, since I could tell I was out of options. Then, I thought about all of the guys I hooked up with here in the city. Somehow, I had a feeling things would be very different in Maine.
Two weeks later, my dad and I were driving up to Maine in his truck, towing a U-haul. It took us about five hours to hit the border with New Hampshire. I had to admit, the bridge going between the two states had an amazing river view. As soon as we continued northbound, the first thing I noticed was pine trees, and there sure were a lot of them.
I thought I would see more ocean, but we were still on a major highway. About an hour later we finally pulled off to a much smaller road and I saw that picturesque view I remembered from when I was a child. It sure was breathtaking, seeing the forest go right up to the rocky cliffs overlooking the water with small houses and sometimes mansions dotting the shoreline. We passed through a bunch of Main Street, small-town USA kinda places. The further north we went the more snow there was. Everything was very quaint but as charming as it was, I simply did not feel at home in a place like this.
Eventually, we turned onto a dirt road shrouded in trees. I had vague childhood memories of this, and they intensified as we got nearer to Uncle Stan's house, or cabin rather. By the looks of the place, I realized my uncle must be doing well. He had added a garage with what looked like living quarters on top. There was also a new, huge wrap-around porch that I bet must be nice in the summer. Getting out of the car, the sheer silence hit me like a brick wall. No cars honking, no sirens blaring, no bike messengers swearing at cab drivers, just plain silence. To some it was heaven. To me, this sounded like hell.
The front door of the house banged open, and Uncle Stan strode out with a big smile on his face. Where I felt like a fish out of water, he definitely fit in with the surroundings. His hair was ginger just like mine, but he also sported a matching beard. He was rugged and burly, as if purposefully trying to look like a lumberjack stereotype. And that included his outfit: a red-and-black checkered flannel and sturdy work pants. As thick as the fabric looked, I found myself staring at my uncle's prominent bulge. He walked up to me and gave me a hug, and I was intensely aware of his bulge rubbing against my leg. I knew I shouldn't be checking out my own uncle, but I just couldn't help it: he was a stud, and I was obsessed with dick 24/7.
Uncle Stan helped us with our stuff into the house. We brought a few pieces of furniture, though Dad had sold most of it. Inside, the living room looked like something out of a catalog. It was rustic, yet sleek. I only recognized about half of the items in the house; the rest were recent purchases. Almost all of the furniture, electronics, and kitchen appliances looked brand new. Along the walls were a ton of photos of Maine wildlife and scenery. I was surprised not to find a deer head mounted on a wall.
Uncle Stan brought us upstairs and led us to his former master bedroom. He was now sleeping in the roomier space above the garage. He assigned dad to the big bedroom before taking me down the hall to another room. I'll admit, the room was bigger than my room in New York, but it was going to take a while before this truly felt like home. Uncle Stan stood in the doorway observing me as I looked about the space. He had his hands on his hips, which only seemed to emphasize his swollen crotch.
"Hope ya like it," he stated, tucking his thumbs into his waist. "It's not much, but it's all yours."
"It's great! An adjustment, but still, thank you," I mumbled, trying not to stare at his package.
"Well, I'll leave you to it. Dinner is in a couple hours. Good to see you again, Nash, all grown up now," my uncle said and left me to unpack.
The rest of the evening passed by fairly quickly with all the unpacking. Dinner was... unexpected: venison chili. I was hesitant but I guess it wasn't that bad, once you get over the fact you're eating Bambi. After the meal, I went back to my new room and opened up my gay dating apps. All of them were full of blank profiles, no one remotely close to my age, and most users at least 15 miles away. Fan-fucking-tastic! First, I get carted off to the middle of nowhere and now, I won't even be able to get laid!
After a long day of moving, I fell asleep quickly and thankfully stayed asleep until morning. Sunlight creeping in through the window woke me up. The air in the room was chilly, and considering I was naked, I stayed luxuriating in the warmth of the comforter for as long as I could. It was still early so I wanted to go back to sleep, but I was prevented by Uncle Stan, banging on the door before barging in.
"Mornin', nephew," he bellowed, dressed in similar clothes as yesterday.
At that moment, even though I was still groggy, I realized I was making quite a tent with my morning wood, so I hurried to lie on one side to hide it.
"C'mon and get up!" Uncle Stan continued. He was one of those annoying early-riser types. "It's a beautiful morning for a walk."
"Noooo," I moaned, turning my bare back to him. All I wanted was for him to leave me alone so I could go back to sleep.
Before I knew what was happening, I felt ice-cold hands on my back and sides. This fucker was trying to tickle me! I resisted but it got the best of me, and I burst into laughter. I kicked and tried to get him off me, but to no avail. My movements were limited: I was still trying to hide my raging boner, grasping it with both hands.
"Say 'yes' and I'll stop," my uncle teased, continuing to poke and jab at my ribs.
"Fine... FINE, I'll go!" I gave in. "Now, get out of here so I can get dressed."
"Oh, you a shy one, huh?" he said with a smirk as he exited my room, adding "I'll go make us some coffee. See ya in the kitchen."
I laid on my back a few more minutes letting my boner die down before picking out something to wear that was somewhat outdoorsy. I didn't have hiking boots, but Uncle Stan let me borrow a pair. We went out to the backyard, where a trailhead was hidden just beyond a bush.
He handed me a thermos of hot coffee and we set out. Internally, I was whining about the cold and how tired I was, but for some reason I didn't want to sound like a baby in front of my uncle so I kept it in. I remembered part of this trail from my times here as a kid, when I went exploring on my own. Since then, Uncle Stan had really cleaned up the trail and made it walkable. I had never gone this far into the woods, not on my own. Uncle Stan motioned me to stop, held a finger to his mouth, and then pointed towards a small clearing where three deer nosed through the brush. Although I was a city boy through and through, I had to admit this was nicer than my usual sightings of rats and pigeons.
I let Uncle Stan lead the way and followed behind him. We didn't talk much during the hike. Partly, I didn't know what to say to him; secondly, I was concentrating on not tripping and making myself look like a fool. Looking down at the ground led to me staring at my uncle's thick ass. It was like a fucking basketball cut in half! Each globe rose and fell as we started the small incline up the hill.
It did start to get a bit steeper, and by the time we reached the top, I was out of breath. I was in good shape, but I wasn't used to this. However, the view from the top was what really took my breath away! We could see above all the snow-capped trees clear on to the ocean. Dotted along the forest were additional clearings, with houses and their lit chimneys spiraling woodsmoke. It was incredibly serene; unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Off to the side I spotted Uncle Stan, watching my amazement with a small smile on his face.
"Ready to head back?" he asked me after a few minutes, to which I nodded. "Just need to take a leak first," he announced.
I expected my uncle to go hide behind a tree… but I was wrong. He turned away slightly, unzipped, and whipped out his meat right there in the open! Since he wasn't even turned away from me completely, I could see every inch of his cock – and I mean EVERY inch! Even soft, he must've been four or five inches. The skin was just as pale as the rest of him, which was a stark contrast to his dark ginger bush. He even pulled out his balls, which looked heavy and full of cum (or so I imagined).
He kept pissing what looked like almost a gallon. He even swiveled his hips as he did so, as if writing his name in the snow. He finally finished and I gulped as he shook his fat dick before milking out the last few drops of hot piss. My mouth suddenly felt very dry as he handled his junk. Even worse, my own cock responded and became fully hard in my pants. I lowered the thermos to try and hide it, hoping my uncle wouldn't notice my erection. He finally zipped up and led us back down the trail. As I followed, my dick stayed firm, and I added to my list of despairs. First, I was carted off to the middle of nowhere; second, I wasn't getting laid anytime soon; and third: I now had the hots for my own uncle.