“What’cha say, Reg?” The tall, solid-built yellow bone grandpa of fifty-six probed with an unburnt blunt hanging from the corner of his full beautiful lips. “We’re both grown. We’re both game.”
Dumfounded, I wasn’t sure what to think, say, or do. One minute, I was sitting at my breakfast bar finishing up my fancy coffee and pastry in my open robe with undies on, mind you, and the next, I got my big-ass, sunshine-bright light-skinned cousin standing in front of me buck naked with his long, hefty golden flagpole pushing its plump sheathed head into view.
***
Growing up, it was no secret that my family down in the country invented the mantra of cousins making dozens. When I got to be of age, I was offered countless chances to play in their sexual reindeer games, being the sophisticated, good-looking cousin from the big city (aka fresh meat). All I knew was that incest was bad, and I didn’t want to slip up and spawn any cross-eyed, three-eyed babies.
That was adolescence. Now a couple of years off from fifty, I understand why their incessant romps in the hay were so freeing to them. My definition of incest stemmed from anyone having blood ties, like if you had the same right to be at the family reunion like I did because we were kin, that was incestuous.
Last spring, after a funeral service, I looked up the definition of the word. Across the board it stated that incest was any sexual relations between people classed as being too closely related to marry one another. They gave the usual examples of immediate family and grandparents, leaving out first cousins due to the coin flip that in some places they give a fuck while others truly don’t. This meant that distant cousins, great uncles, and the like were fair game.
I didn’t give it much thought, anyhow. Though I come from a large, fine-looking family on both sides of the line, there weren’t any flirtatious women in my family that ever tickled my fancy and any guys I was possibly interested in were a little too close for comfort for me not to worry about the wrong family member catching wind. Close to a half a century old, those family members either aged horribly, found Jesus, died off, or any combination of the three.
There were many in the younger generation, of course, that boldly put their fillers out for this cute, husky, happy-go-lucky, brown-skinned Teddy bear. And though my uncles and my parent’s cousins had a knack about not giving a fuck about throwing their line out to whomever would bite, I don’t think I got the balls to break bread with my older first cousin after I dropped a heavy load off in his horny twenty-three-year-old grandson.
So, how did we get here? Well…
My favorite aunt died last year. Her funeral was held at her home church down in the country and brought out the whole county and then some. So much so it spilled down to the basement where I watched it on tv down there with a gang of family members and other close associates. When the graveyard service ended, the repast began. Since it was in the church basement, I was one of the first in line getting some grub when I looked up at this six-foot-four man standing next to me who kept cocking his big black curly top to flash me his gold grill between his wispy mustache and heavy chin beard.
Any other time, I would’ve politely kept it moving. I learned in my gay youth that while older street dudes are fun and real, they’re rarely ever yours. But I took the bait of this older countrified looker despite him smelling of cheap cologne and a lifetime of smoked cigarillos and the pregnant young’un half his age that looked to be with him. At the very least, he came with some tie.
“How did you know Aunt Bea?” I started off ask him as one of the church ladies slapped a scoop of black-eye peas onto our disposable plates.
The short version of our genealogical tie was that he was my paternal uncles’ firstborn son’s oldest brother, and just like that cousin, he still managed to be my cousin on both sides of the family tree thanks to so many shared great grandparents up the line.
“Reg,” I extended my free hand.
“Darnell.” The epitome of masculine beauty gripped my hand with a free callused mitt. There was an immediate electric charge with the added gratuity of his long middle finger stroking the center of my sweaty palm.
It would’ve been hot if I said I quickly abandoned my rule of what I thought incest was and followed Darnell off somewhere, freed him of his tan slacks and took a hard tingling lick of his big sweaty nuts. Instead, all we did was sit around the table, ate and chopped it up, mostly about him and his pregnant young girlfriend expecting their second child together, though it was going to be her third and his thirteenth.
About an hour and a half later, I pulled off to the side of a country road miles away from the church to quickly beat my meat to this particular cousin before heading over to see other family members. When I ran across Darnell again at the third house I visited, he was sipping on a cocktail with a burning blunt playing it cool while my first cousin’s otherwise flirtatious grandson was reddened with guilt, with ash sprinkled in his ‘fro with dried spit and cum in his full goatee that could only be brought on by the stud. By the time I came across him again at the last home I visited, Darnell had a disheveled pregnant girlfriend he just finished fucking along with two more cousins.
I spent the next month or so swatting off a large imaginary gold cross from my face to thoughts of this solid, lofty virile man roaming around in my guts.
***
Darnell became a faded memory from the spank bank for a few new guys after several theme nights at the bathhouse and bars. I was fine with this. At my age, phyne men come and go, though it does become more of a rarity to find one that is “straight” and into older men. No big deal. Perhaps, another family funeral some other time.
***
Months later, my phone rang. I’d just hopped out of the shower for the night split between going out and going to bed. I was more prone to the latter, but since I’d cleaned out for some verse action with an old fuck buddy, I didn’t want to waste a good douche. I went for the phone thinking he had changed his mind, only for an area code outside of my range to pop up.
“Hello,” I answered. It was my paternal first cousin. One I hadn’t seen or heard from since I was nineteen. “Yeah, wussup?” Thankfully, he got straight to the point. He asked if he could pass my number to his older brother. Without a second thought, I said sure. If I was young and lust struck with the philanderer was still fresh on my mind, I would’ve known immediately whom this cousin was talking about. In the lone minute that I hung up with him and the phone rang again, I immediately remembered my ‘favorite’ cousin. “Yeah, wussup?”
Darnell was calling because his truck broke down west of Fayetteville and, unfortunately, the mechanic shop they towed him to was out in the middle of nowhere, remote from civilization. He was hoping that I’d be an ever so kind cousin to drop him off somewhere, if he couldn’t possibly come crash with me tonight. If I had the room.
My hole moistened and my dick hardened at the prospect. Although I’d made him a total top in all my sexual fantasies, there was a small part of me that now wanted to fuck him, too. Hey! He was calling me for a ride! I didn’t forget the way those tan-colored slacks of his fell off his luscious, high-shelf country booty. I was game to get some ass tonight, why not some of his? He was a wild-and-loose family fucker trucker!
Less than an hour later, I picked Darnell up at a truck mechanic shop out in the boonies. He still looked as good as I remember, sporting a three-day sweat-stained tee that hugged his hard, hairy muscled fat and a pair of blue jeans that accentuated his strapping thighs, humungous calves….and, of course, that infamous badunkadunk.
I swung by the fast-food joint of his choosing, where he bought us a couple of chicken sandwich combo meals to eat back at my place. We spiked our oversized sodas with dust-covered nips I had on hand (since I’m not much of a drinker) and chopped it up for a couple of more hours. Eventually, I left him on the couch to get some sleep, disappointed he didn’t even hint at making a move like he did back at the funeral. I went off to my bedroom and rode my lucky seven-inch dildo with gritted teeth wishing it was the real thing in the living room.
I got up bright and early looking to jumpstart my morning with a little more eye candy. Last night, after Darnell hopped in the shower, he came out spraddled in nothing more than a clean pair of bright white briefs that cupped his overly generous lump and some mid-calf athletic socks that seen better days. I thought it was cute. It didn’t hurt either that his small, pink pointy nipples were slightly misaligned on his heavy light bright chest.
Darnell wasn’t on the couch when I cracked my bedroom door. I suspected him to be in the bathroom, but the door was wide open without any noise coming from it. I was barely halfway in the living room when I was greeted with a “hello” from a feminine voice. I turned to find this remarkably beautiful young black woman in a robe in my kitchen pouring herself a cup of coffee. I had to rub my eyes because the last time I had a woman in a robe in my home was back in my teens, and she was my older brother’s side piece after my parents went away for the weekend. “You must be Cousin Reg. Darnell has told me so much about you.”
I played it off—or at least I tried—thinking it wasn’t that long ago that I left Darnell on the couch for him to find a chick (with no car, mind you), bring her back to my place, especially since it was like eleven when I scooped him up last night.
I was just getting through this shock when he burst through the door and tossed her a pair of keys while holding up three breakfast combo meal bags. It would’ve been one thing, if he just handed them off to us, but he ended up creating each of us a whole new meal from them with stuff I had on hand. We sat an ate and talked like this was normal, and just like she appeared she left.
Looking at him, I was at a loss for words. When he saw he needed to give an explanation, he gave one that both surprised and didn’t surprise me given that he was such a big phyne-looking man with charisma. He stepped outside to get some fresh air in the condition I left him in last night, and after he ran the stairs a few times, Monica spotted him, they talked, and she told him about some mechanical issue she had with her car that he just knew how to fix. And after he said all that-- obviously being slick about skipping over some important details--I asked, “You smashed?”
Darnell looked me dead in the eyes, flashed his gold grill with an unburned blunt hanging out of his mouth, and exclaimed “Like the Hulk!”
***
Cousin Darnell and I became quick friends. Because my schedule was rather flexible, he’d call me up on the whim if he needed someone to help keep him up while on the road. I didn’t mind. I learned a lot about the big lug, and some juicy family tidbits I never would’ve learned otherwise. And whenever he was in town, I didn’t mind picking him up to couch surf—only if he was going to give me a heads up about bringing a piece of tail back to my apartment.
***
Weeks passed, and Darnell gave me a ring and slept on my couch whenever he was in the city. He’d slide me a few bucks for my troubles, but he paid me back the way he sprawled out on it in his undies.
Then, one morning, he made me a proposition. He flashed me six months’ worth of rent to crash at my place for half a year. His cash was good, but his credit was lousy to score a place of his own up here, and going back home to a crying newborn wasn’t much of an option either, if he wanted to keep his money flowing.
“Nothing changes. You don’t even have to give up your spare bedroom [that I used as my office]. And, of course, I’ll still slide you some gas money to come get me from the [truck] yard whenever I’m in town.”
I thought about it for about a week. And a week later, I had a cousin for a roommate.
***
Though he said they wouldn’t, things changed. I didn’t mind. Whenever Darnell wasn’t out over the road, he was at home with me. And when I wasn’t using my bed, I didn’t mind gifting it to him so he could stretch out and get a good rest. My couch wasn’t shabby or anything. Quite comfortable and oversized, it cradled his large frame perfectly, but it was nowhere near as comfortable as a firm mattress. A few nights, Darnell and I shared it. I’m not quite sure if it was his farts or mine that drove him back out to the couch, but something did, and it was good while it lasted.
***
“Man, if I was you, this place would be a revolving door! Do you know how hard it is to find a nigga that can host?” Darnell spat after I walked my old fuck buddy out the door after a hot and heavy session.
I never hid my lust for dudes from my cousin. Even when I picked him up that night from the truck shop, I confessed, if he wasn’t sure. In part, hoping he would take the hint to go about shooting his shot, so I didn’t come off as creepy, or thoroughly convinced me that I read more into our connection than I was meant to. But mostly because Darnell couldn’t miss my love for homoerotic artists like Belasco and Michael Kirwan spread across my living space that I was too lazy to hide for his first visit.
So, what happened next shouldn’t have surprised me in the least—but it did at the same time!
***
It had been four months since Darnell and I officially became roommates, and he was no stranger to strolling around the crib in his birthday suit whenever he thought I was out of view. Some mornings and some nights, the combination of his big stick and some heavy grease produced a thunderously glug shadowed by the tear of a couple of paper towel sheets for cleanup moments after he was done. Even if he wasn’t aware, it was hard to miss the distinct smell of cum, and his was pungent and potent. Not off-putting like a skunk, but not without notice either—even upon cracking my bedroom door a good while after he busted. Still, whenever I found him after he choked the chicken, he was always skinning and grinning in my face and that infectious smile made me beam as well.
One night, I was sound asleep when I was awakened by the front door softly closing and softer words exchanged. I didn’t give it much thought. Darnell genuinely ran the stairs outside if he was too wired or look for some new skank to bed so he could go to sleep. With rent, I gifted him the open-door policy of inviting whomever he wanted over, if they understood the house rules. If his game was top tier as a fifty-six-year-old man to get some young fool to agree to get fucked on a couch and get out as soon as they were done, then he had my blessing.
“Lay ‘em, spray ‘em, and get ‘em tay ‘em [told to get the fuck outta here]!” I expressed to him.
I could see some girls going for it. Mostly street walkers. Darnell said he only got down with lot lizards when he struck out and his hand wouldn’t do. Even then, they were far and few between. In some areas, they wouldn’t entertain him for their racist views, if not for the fear of white truckers discarding their services for being with a black man, regardless of how fair-skinned he was. “Restaurant workers at truck stops about to go on break are the easier layups,” he bragged one night, smoking a blunt on my balcony while grilling some burgers and hot dogs on the charcoal portable. “They’ll reward you with free meals forever, as long as their manager ain’t looking.”
My ears soon became aware of some strange sounds. Then I heard someone whining and moaning out in the living room and knew without a doubt my cousin found someone to fuck.
I loved cracking the door to these scenes. I could care less about whose mouth he was covering with his oversized mitt in the dim light. I was there for the show, seeing his bulky body in motion pounding away on the couch.
Shock coursed through me when I found Darnell winding on the floor. And the trembling leg he had on his rounded shoulder didn’t belong to some young chick but to some teenage boy I was sure I had seen before.
“Shit! I toldja to hold tight, young buck.” Darnell chuckled melodically, rounding his powerful hips into the slurping hole of the muffled young man beneath him. The young man’s desperate groans of agony were breaking up to hiccup moans of pleasure. “Cherry-pickin’ is always a rough go, man. That’s the beauty of the beast. ‘cause now that I got you open, you’re now open season. You can now milk any of these hungry bull dicks without giving it a second thought!”
Darnell continued to fuck the boy. Sometimes quite smoothly and sometimes with quick hard strokes that the boy might not soon forget--at least for the next couple of days. As with all newcomers, curious if his hole will always gape like that and if he’d ever be able to put one foot in front of the other and walk in a straight line ever again. The boy shot a couple of ribbons underneath the stud and Darnell soon followed swamping the stretched hole, covering the lad with his heavy body, kissing and caressing across the young neck, with the elder thanking him for letting him be the first to “bless his body.”
Darnell got off the boy sometime after to walk him over to the door. Soon, I got why he looked so familiar. It was Shawn. Monica’s second oldest son, the girl from Darnell’s first night over here, who just happened to turn eighteen after midnight. Coincidentally, both of whom happened to be our distant cousins from down the road.
***
I was still on the fence about how I was going to address the situation. I didn’t give a damn about him fucking young buck as I wondered why Darnell didn’t swing that big old anal impaler this way.
“Sorry about last night.” Darnell apologized immediately in his drawls and socks after I took care of my morning constitution on my way to the kitchen. “I’ve been fucking so long I forget about a lil’ nigga’s first time.”
“It’s cool.” I mouthed indifferently, fixing my simple breakfast of coffee and a flaky jam and cheese pastry.
“Yeah, by the time I got to be about his age I wasn’t just starting out. I was taking pipe like a pro with everyone down in the county blinded by my high yellow ass.”
I snickered with Quad City DJ’s C’Mon and Ride It (The Train) blaring in my musical memory. “Can you blame ‘em?”
“You would’ve been right there with ‘em?” Darnell simpered, taken aback. “Word on the street you didn’t get down with fam.”
“True, but if I knew a looker like you was an option back then I might’ve got in line. That big yellow ass school bus can hold a lot back there. That, or I would’ve let you cop my cherry like you did the boy…or put you in the top five.”
“Top five? Like my big fuckin’ dick, Number One is more like it!”
“Whatever.”
“You like what you saw?”
“Yeah,” I hesitated, going back to my coffee and pastry.
It was out of my blind spot I heard his big feet tramp the carpet to take off his undies to eventually stand in front of me with the head of his long, thick buttery shaft pushing out beyond its fleshy sheath.
“What’cha say, Reg? We’re both grown. We’re both game.”
I smirked, checking the big, phyne man from head to toe, and shook my head, “Nahhh!”
***
Darnell was on the floor doing pushups or sit-ups with a blunt hanging from his lip every time I passed through the living room. He was half-mad and half-turned on with my rejection still ringing in his ear. I gave him his props. He was a dreamboat. I was sure he was a dream fuck, too. I also told him I knew my worth. I wasn’t looking for a commitment. But after waiting more than a year to ride his fat gun, the least he could do was wait to reload the barrels before offering it up. How long ago had it been since he sprayed up in the kid?
“Okay then, bet.” Darnell growled an hour after I gave him my reason. “I want that hole rubber band, snapback tight. No ass-play—of any kind! I want you like a born-again virgin. Nah! As far as I’m concern, you’re the Virgin Reggie ‘cause I’m gonna impregnant ya with some of this god seed!”
I was just kidding about holding off for seven days. I was just saying I didn’t want to be an afterthought to somebody he just freely fucked in my living room. He could’ve gotten it at any time, if he played his cards right before. Still, I would’ve given in after a few more hours. Here on Day Five, Darnell was certainly committed.
“If you got to go get Shawn or his momma so you don’t burst, go do so.” I taunted.
“Oh, naw! You gonna get the whole shebang! You might as well throw on a helmet, so you don’t go through the headboard like Gina did in Martin!”
***
On the seventh day, I jokingly came out of my bedroom with my bicycle helmet on, only for him to be called back on the road—for the next two weeks!
***
I swore the next time I got my hands on Darnell we were just going to get to it. But when he came back into town, he was dead tired. Like, I had to help him up the stairs to my apartment tired. Undress him to get him into the shower tired. Darnell was so tired that after he plopped into my bed, he snored for eleven hours straight.
He came into the living room a couple of hours after I made breakfast. I reheated his plate. He looked rested but sounded down, and I couldn’t figure out why until I did.
“Oh, c’mon now, Big D,” I smirked. “I wasn’t expecting you to hold out that long! I can go months without riding a pole. I don’t think I’ve seen you go three days without sweet talking somebody out their drawls since you’ve been here.”
Darnell cocked his head. “Nah, I got another dilemma, Reg. ‘cause I’ve held out so long now, and I’m a ridiculously heavy cummer when I hold out, I don’t know if I want to drain some out so you don’t joan me out as the minute man or let the gooey juice loose ‘cause it’d all be breaststrokin’ up in ya guts anyhow!”
“I’m shooting for the latter ‘cause at least you’d already pre-lubed it for the second go ‘round. What? You think you’re just gonna hit it and quit it? Bruh, at this point, I’m cousin hubby. I’m gonna get that weak dick, strong dick. Whatever dick your Big Bird ass brings to the table! First time, second time, four hundred and forty-seventh time.”
“Weak dick? Nigga, you don’t know who the fuck you’re talking to, motherfucker,” he mumbled, like he was going to show me. “Nevah’ that!”
Darnell treated me out to dinner and a movie later that night. After we returned, I invited him to my bedroom where I slept in his big muscular arms with his very strong dick nestled into my crack and got the best night sleep ever!
***
“Hubby Cuz,” Darnell chuckled out the blue, chewing on a stack of cheesy, hot sauce-covered eggs at the breakfast bar after we kissed the morning after. “Cousin Hubby.”
***
We both took turns to relieve our bladders that night when the temptation of him grew too strong for me. Darnell was sound asleep on his back on top of the sheets in his drawls and socks with an imprisoned erection that I sprang free.
I knew about his big, long lemon-colored snake, but I was amazed by his big swinging cum factories cased in equal hue. A simple stroke of this sensitive area should’ve stirred him awake. No? A gentle caress of his nether region should’ve done the trick, huh? No. His crack was nice and moist, and his dump soaked of a wetness that made me ponder his words the other day of a juicy ass that everybody needed to ride. Even still, he snored right through it.
“This got to wake you up,” I said to myself, sliding his huge butt fucker into my mouth. I was giving it a thorough tongue bath behind the slightly cheesy foreskin and everything, and he just kept on snoring. I was less than a couple of minutes into giving him this preliminary blowjob when I thought I’d stirred him out of slumber. He stopped snoring. Barely a few seconds later, he snorted loudly and cartoonishly gushed like a broken faucet! Cum filled my mouth, the back of my nasal passages, the front of my nose, nostrils, and soaked my mustache and chin badger; my face, my hair; his round, hardened belly, his forested crotch, his thighs, and portions of the bed that the other body parts didn’t catch.
Drenched, I chuckled. He wouldn’t have lasted ten seconds inside this tight hole!
That last word put a sinful thought in my head. And, before I knew it, I took some of the goodly amount of cum he spewed and fingered his prostate with it through his astounding easy open slit.
“You still ain’t getting up, big fella?” I mouthed in disbelief. Minus my playful buffing back there behind his taint, his dick was falling asleep to join the rest of him in slumber.
I’d thought I’d put the evil thought out of my mind, but the next thing I knew, I’d peeled his socks from his huge boats as a teaser and stripped him of his drawls. With legs lifted, I was more than convinced that with my leaky dick nuzzled at the bottom of his crack surely that would wake him up.
Nah! Not that either.
As ashamed as I am to admit it now, if I was strong enough to pin his legs back and roll him up just enough, I might’ve gotten somewhere with rubbing my pole against his hole. If I’d succeeded and he didn’t awake, with his inviting slit already lubed and open for play I don’t know what I would’ve done next. Probably gon’ ahead and snaked it in, or probably not. But his big solid legs were like lead, so I’ll never know.
***
Light hadn’t pierced through my bedroom blinds when I woke up on my back with a ringed sausage link playing in my guts and a hot heavy mouth swallowing my dick. I wanted to utter some words, but the pleasure was so good and strong, I stumbled over each of them as he made me squirm underneath him.
“I’m just returning the favor.” Darnell said after pulling out and nursed both my balls. His wet mouth tracked by his warm breath was everything. “I should’ve warned you I was a heavy sleeper. I don’t know if that was your cum or mine in my butt that I woke up to.”
“Yours.” I groaned with the scaliness of his dried cum in and around my face.
“Reg don’t lie to me,” His finger dug deeper into me with a firmness he needed me to feel every inch of. “My butt’s a little too busted from just a couple of fingers, but not sore enough from a decent pipe down.”
“That was just my finger.” Three.
“Then why the fuck was my drawls on the floor over there.”
“’cause,” I stumbled. He resumed to suck me off, as I continued, “I thought about paintin’ your guts with my rod…oh god, motherfucker!” I reared as his whole wet-hot mouth sucked me in and nearly made me cum.
“So, what stopped you?” Darnell pulled off briefly to look up at me gripping the sheets behind the pillows.
I wanted to lie. I just didn’t have it in me. “Your legs are heavy as fuck!”
I felt the weight of my words. Forty-eight years on this planet, I always fancied myself as the high moral fiber of mankind. But I finally understood the things lust can drive a man to think, to act, things I would’ve never entertained outside of fantasy to finally entertain in real life.
“You wanted this ass so bad you were gonna take it?” Darnell kissed the crease of my inner thigh.
I shook my head.
“Don’t be ashamed to tell it like it is. There’s been a whole lot of nights, I thought about rolling you over on your stomach and claiming what’s mine.” Darnell kissed his way up my torso and stayed around my neck awhile, licked and breathed his warm breath over my ear before he spoke again. “You were supposed to have been mine long before now. I was supposed to have been your first, your forever. I knew as a young’un I was a faggot, and I knew you were, too. I’m not saying we were sissies or anything. Men, like we are right now, in our most natural state. Don’t you agree?”
I nodded. Knowing he was speaking from the heart, but slightly hoping he was spitting some really good game, so I didn’t have to take in anything seriously other than his dick.
“Except down in the country, we could do the damn thing with other niggas as long as we kept it under wraps—or try, at least. These newfangled faggots these days just do whatever the hell they want! I’m glad your folks gave you some leeway to do you. You didn’t have to get a string of baby mamas to prove your manhood to some lousy motherfuckers, only to work like a madman to keep up.”
I gripped the nape of his neck and rested his lips on mine, tongue-wrestling out our deepest feeling. We kissed and touched, groped and slapped; it felt like we had fucked several times over and we hadn’t even just begun. I’d almost forgotten this fact when Darnell stopped to ask me this silly question. “You wanna tell me what stopped you from getting this ass this morning?”
“’cause I told yo, man! Your legs are heavy as fuck!” I chuckled.
Darnell devilishly smirked and gripped me in a tight hug. “Yours ain’t!”
I was confused--then I fully understood. It had been there for a while without notice, but as Darnell pushed into me it made sense. I was so hot and ready that my legs enveloped him, and the narrow tip of his overtly flared pipe was already wedged into the shallow of my furrow. And as he pushed forward, his sweat-slick cornholer filled the rest.
Getting accustomed to his length and girth, I bemoaned. Cousin Darnell tut-tutted. “You should’ve gotten this ass while you could’ve, Reg. When I was a young’un the best part of waking up was with some morning wood deep up in my butt. Now, you gotta work triple hard to get up in these cheeks.”
“Why? You gave it away like hotcakes to the rest of the family.”
“That’s a lot of shit talk for someone that extracted a monthlong load out of me. But don’t fret. There’s plenty locked and loaded in the barrel for me to still wear this sweet ass out and overflow your hole into oblivion!”
***
Darnell pulled out seven minutes shy of midday. I’m sure he would have stayed on top of me an extra hour more after drowning out my bowels with the liter of splooge he left behind if his lips weren’t so naked without a blunt in between them.
I was looking for Darnell to pound the daylights out of me sometime during our session together like I’d seen him do many others in my home. I soon got he meant what he said earlier about wanting to be my first, with the sophistication of someone older and wiser (and handsomely skilled) with the lust he had pent-up inside all these years, he finally got to live out his lifelong fantasy. And, in the process, set my prostate on fire the way he genie-rubbed it with his big ol’ staff pole. I came thrice to his once, and even when I thought I was dead tired, he just slapped some more of my spent ball juice onto his unstinting stiffy and continued to churn it back into my worn-out ass nice and slow, renewing this soul-fuck in a pleasurable anguish.
Darnell moved out into the living room onto to the balcony to light up. I moved out into the living room out into the kitchen shortly thereafter. I was more dehydrated and famished than I was sore, and oddly felt lighter and more energized than exhausted and spent. I could’ve gone for a nap, too, but I was too exhilarated in the afterglow.
I made a couple of smoothies and joined him outside. I handed him one and stole his blunt to take a long toke. I could care less about the nasty cancer-stick. I just wanted to taste him some more while he downed his pick-me-up for nourishment. A modest reward for the best fuck of my life!
***
I followed Darnell like a lovesick puppy back on out through the sliding doors overlooking the parking lot an hour after midnight. Our sleep was fucked over spending the rest of that first day of lovemaking in bed: sleeping, fucking, and sleeping again. He was gone when I turned over. He’d ran to grab us some burger combo meals. I was looking forward to sitting and eating with him, when he lazily made his way out the door to smoke, when the large strawberry milkshake I was slurping on gave me a wonderful idea.
“I was gonna bring my big ass back inside to join you after this.” He held up his lit blunt, knowing I wasn’t a fan of his smoking.
“As long as I ain’t disturbing you,” I played it cool.
“Naw, never that. I’m just still marinating that I finally got you the way I always dreamed of having you, and that you’ve been holding your own today with the champ! Usually, I got them running for the hills long before now,” Darnell puffed.
“Oh, really, champ? Man, you ain’t seen nothing yet!” I descended to my knees in front of him and undid his jean. His big dick sprang free from his undies once more. It came out soft, but quickly hardened in my hands.
“What’cha gonna do, Reg? Now that you started something.” Darnell teased.
I pulled his pants and drawls down to his knees. “Well, I was thinking I’d start with the balls. Your big balls look like they’re aching after the hard work they’ve put in today.”
I licked the sack, then took his boys into my mouth. I hardly got one in my mouth when his big dick began to leak precum over my face.
“I see why you can’t stop making babies. You always seeping that sweet god seed everywhere.” I inhaled the savage musk of his robust bush. I was little startled that his big legs began to tremble. “I didn’t think I was doing anything special.”
“You know how fucking long I’ve been wanting you on your knees in front of me like this! Man, this is another dream come true!” Darnell lifted his dripping wet ball sack out of my mouth.
I chuckled earnestly. He had no real memory of the first time other than the result.
He dropped his sack back in. “We know what that mouth can do with ‘em potatoes. Let’s see what that mouth can do with that prime rib!”
Although I snaked my mouth around the first few uncut inches, Darnell chucked the rest of his bone down my throat. He was delighted, letting out a deep grumble that soon turned in him fucking my face, thrusting his rock-hard dong deeper down my windpipe. I was near suffocation and tried to pull off, but my stud of a cousin gripped the nape of my neck firmly. My eyes bulged joyously, blinded by its natural saltwater at his fierce insistence. His eyes were set ablaze in satisfaction from what I made out through the embers hanging from his mouth. He growled through gritted teeth as he reared back some and his hot sour sauce banged brusquely against my teeth.
He quietly sucked on his blunt through the comedown of this storm. I swallowed everything I could, though my tastebuds and gums were still covered in the relief his big heavy spunk holders needed.
I tongue bathed his man muscle clean and peeled back inside to leave him be. I went back to my melted milkshake to wash the rest of his love cream down.
***
“Open sesame, motherfucker!” I growled amusingly six months after this big lug became my latest addiction. “My turn!”
After some finagling, I finally came up with a plan to get some of this ass while he slept. I could lift weights all the livelong day looking to throw those big John Henry legs up in the air like his middle name was twinkletoes or order an adjustable thigh sling online and pray my scheme worked.
It wasn’t the easiest of tasks, but easier than I expected. I still had to lift those humungous limbs while he snoozed. With the braces, one at a time, along with tucking the padded neck strap behind his head, my man looked like a trussed turkey in need of a thorough stuffing.
Stuff you I will, I snickered boastfully. The sling did its job, bring his hole up just enough in the bed for me to…
Ahhh fuckkk! to guide my full erect fucker deep into his sleeping beauty’s loosened pucker.
I would be cavalier if I said I wasn’t slightly disappointed. His hole was nice and fine taking me down to the hilt. I just expected the stud to jolt awake bug-eyed like Kevin McCallister in Home Alone with a collapsed lung like he was taking his last breath at my initial spearing of him. I’d been told enough in my life I had a nice big dick for me to finally accept the praise, only for me to doubt their words with this big guy sleeping right through it.
Darnell gave me his blessing to go to Pound Town, if he was sleep and I was able, but I was a little unnerved to go for broke now that I’d gone so far.
I’d lined my ding dongs to hammer his vulnerable taint, use him like an oversized sex doll when he slowly stirred awake. Darnell tried to play dead through lidded eyes, but his sphincter was very much alive and well fluttering over my dick.
“Good morning, sunshine.” I gazed down at his nakedness already glazed in sweat that wasn’t mine.
“The best part of waking up….” Darnell beamed lazily, cross-armed, tweaking his spiky nipples.
Eyes bugged out when Darnell found out that his legs were stuck in the air like that rearing back onto my groin.
“Reg, you got my legs open like a two-dollar whore,” he griped.
“That’s ‘cause you are, faggot.” I joshed. “Now who’s ass is this?”
“Yours nigga. Yours.” Darnell sucked his teeth at his tingle of pain hard and masculine with a heated look of lust in his eyes. “Dig this bitch out with that big black Disco stick!”
I winked. “Your wish is my command, cuz!”
***
“There. You boys good?” I fisted two spit-shined dicks heartedly in the back of the sleeper berth four years later. I’d just finished blowing off the shortish, beer-belly forty-four-year-old and the tall, slim-bear forty-five-year-old, both sharing features of their pa, including big baloney ponies and blunts hanging from their lips. “Good,” I said to their nod. “Now you no good motherfucks can’t ever say that your good old Cousin Reg didn’t treat you right, alright?”
My mouth quickly darted hungrily at their leaky heads giving the half-brothers a moment to hitch up their pants.
“Gon’ now,” I barked. “I don’t need a line to start forming out here.”
The two fellow truckers jumped out of the passenger side of the truck passed their pa, Darnell, sitting in the driver’s seat stretching his long legs.
“Look at god. Helping all this family in need!” Darnell chuckled twiddling with his gold cross chain.
“Fuck you!” I shot him the bird.
“That’s a whole lot of shit talking for someone that just drank two batches of my unborn grandkids, don’t you say?” He handed me a towel from his roll. I wiped my face. “Ready to get on out there?”
“Sure.” I got to my feet. He jumped up in the rig and snuck in a deep passionate kiss.
Lightheaded, I fell back onto the bed we shared. I was trying to pull myself up by his waist, when he took it as code that I wanted something else. I didn’t mind. I always had room for that. I enjoyed sucking every inch of his thick yellowbone and quenching my thirst by throating his seed.
“Fuckety fuck!” Darnell cried out his intense orgasm.
I swallowed all his potent shot, dutifully bathing ever inch through his comedown. “How many men can say their seed is a chaser of their grandseed? Shit, you better say I’m the best cousin you motherfucks ever had!”
The sixty-year-old caught his breath. “Understatement of the century, Reg. Now, are you ready to do the damn thing at this family reunion?”
Obviously, a good family secret is worth keeping in the family, isn’t it?
