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I knew I would always remember taking my high school buddy, Napoleon’s virgin ass on that picnic table in a warm lemon grove back in my hometown of Laredo. There was so much I would remember from that trip back in July- my twin brother’s military funeral the day before, after he’d been killed in a bombing in Iraq… the wild encounter that erupted the same evening between our old high school friend Napoleon and me when I found him going through my brother’s stash of old, cum-stained porn magazines… my Dad barging in, drunk and naked, just as Napoleon started fucking me, and then Dad taking charge of both of us as Napoleon wrecked my ass in a hot fuck… and the next morning, laying on my sleeping bag naked next to my buddy Napoleon, my seed being the first to claim his sweet Latin hole.
Later, after Napoleon gave me a ride home on his motorcycle and went home to his wife, my Dad put my stuff in the back of his truck and drove me up to the airport. Before I got out of his truck, he grabbed both sides of my face and kissed me hard, just like he had done when I had arrived. “Take good care of yourself, Guy,” he told me.
Not, “Call me when you get home.” Not, “Try to come home again before too long.”
Without another word, I got out of the truck and pulled my duffle bag out of the back. As my Dad pulled away, I lit a cigarette and watched him go. For some reason, I started feeling pretty damn sorry for myself. On that July day, I wondered if I would ever see this place- or those two men- again.
Back home in D.C., life got back to normal- or what passed for “normal”- for me and my “son” lover, Shark. Working on projects for general contractors kept me busier than I probably wanted to be, but Shark and I still found plenty of time to bang each other in my sling. Shark loved it when he dropped by one night and discovered that I had installed a mirror on the ceiling above the sling. As a gift for my 28th birthday in August, he dragged me down to the body shop and had his friend there tattoo my inside left thigh with a design he made on his computer. After that, he called sucking my dick “dinner and a movie” because of the ink on my thigh next to my dick. “I feel like dinner and a movie,” he’d say, and I’d get rock hard.
In early October- hardly two months after burying my brother- I got a call telling me that my Dad suffered a heart attack and died. As it turned out, my Dad didn’t show up at his construction company office that Tuesday morning. Buks, his chief foreman, and Nikki, his office manager, figured he was just sleeping one off and would come in after lunch. When he didn’t, Buks called my Dad’s place, but just reached the voice mail. Worried, Buks drove out to the house, and when Dad didn’t come to the door, Buks jimmied the lock and went in. He found my Dad lying naked on the floor next to his bed, not breathing. He dialed 911, but it was too late.
After Nikki called and gave me the news, I didn’t have time to figure out what to make of it. I just had to do what I had to do and go take care of it. The soonest I could get a flight out of
D.C. was Thursday morning.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
As soon as I arrived at the Laredo airport late Thursday afternoon, I grabbed a cab and went down to my Dad’s house. I unlocked the door and went in. I climbed the stairs and found the door to my old bedroom open. I walked in. The aroma of smoke, shit and cum seemed to still hang in the air from the last time I was there.
I picked up the phone, and found Napoleon’s home phone number was still in the memory. I punched it. The phone rang three times before his wife, Cindy, answered. “It’s me, Cindy- Guy,” I said. “I’m back in Laredo to take care of my Dad. He’s died. Is Napoleon around?”
“Sorry to hear about your dad,” she told me. “Napoleon’s busy right now. I’ll have him call you back.”
I wandered down the hall to my Dad’s bedroom…
I found the keys to his truck in a tray on top of his dresser drawers and put them in my pocket. I made his bed, grabbed a cigar, his clip and his Navy Zippo from inside his humidor, and walked out, closing the door behind me. Back in my own room, I clipped the cigar and lit it. I called my Dad’s office, hoping either Nikki or Buks might still be around, but all I got was the voice mail. “You’ve reached Frank Maddix and Sons Construction Company,” the recording of my Dad’s gruff voice announced over the phone. “We’re not opened right now. Leave a message, or better yet, friggin’ call back later if you really want to talk to someone… beep!”
I had to laugh to myself. “Not opened right now”? “Friggin’’”? My Dad must’ve been taking lessons in sweetly fractured English from that stud foreman of his, Buks Nell, a transplanted Afrikaner from Cape Town. Plainly, leaving a message was going to be in vain. Hanging up the phone, I figured I’d just hop in Dad’s truck whenever I woke up the next morning and drive five miles west on SR 359 to his office. I knew Dad kept a safe there, and before I tore up the house looking for his papers, I thought I would check the safe at his office and see what I could find there.
The shadows in my room got longer as the sun set. It was still hot. I turned on the lamp next to my bed and took off my clothes. Both my brother’s bed and mine remained unmade from my visit back in July, and the ashtray was still filled with cigarette and cigar butts. Before I’d left D.C., I had already called the monsignor at the Cathedral of San Agustin to arrange Dad’s funeral service, and he kindly me invited to supper the day after I arrived to go over it all.
The folks at Seton Medical Center, where they had taken Dad’s body, told me they could send him over to the Hillside Funeral Home if that was “ok” with me, and I told them to go ahead. As I sat on my bed smoking, I called the funeral home and made an appointment for 3 the next afternoon.
A light went off in my head as I sat there smoking and thinking about my Dad laid out naked under a shroud in a cold room. I got up, went back into his bedroom, and slid open his closet door. I found his old Navy blues on a wire hanger with a sheet of plastic d****d over them. Obviously, he had taken them to the dry cleaners after wearing them to my brother’s funeral. I stuck my cigar in my jaw, and pulled them down from the rod they were hanging on. Holding them over my arm, I took them downstairs and out to his truck. I gently folded them and laid them in the passenger seat so I wouldn’t forget to bring them when I visited the funeral home the next day.
I didn’t know what any of the badges, pins or ribbons on his uniform meant, but I knew that he did, and that he would want to take them with him.
The great thing about living out in the “Ranchettes” was that your nearest neighbor was at least a mile way. Night came with total blackness- no streetlights to slice the dark. Even though it was still hot, I went inside, piled up some logs in the fireplace, and lit a fire. I went upstairs and took another cigar from my Dad’s room, then stopped by the kitchen when I got back downstairs. There were a couple of MGD’s in the fridge, and I pulled them out by the plastic rings connecting them. I pulled open the cabinet above the sink and took down my Dad’s bottle of Cutty. I stuck my thumb in a shot glass, and managed to juggle everything back out through the screen door and onto the porch.
I put everything down next to a dirty ashtray my Dad kept on top of a rusty old TV tray next to his rocking chair. The chair was covered with a grimy old Mexican poncho he’d picked up on one of his trips across the border. I sat my naked ass down in it, poured myself a shot and downed it. I popped open a beer, took a few puffs on Dad’s cigar, and swallowed a belt. The night was black except for the light from the fireplace inside dancing through the windows, the twinkling stars overhead, and the orange glow from the end of my cigar. By now, my shaft was completely hard. I took a few puffs from my Dad’s cigar, and held its glowing end above my piss slit. In the glow, I saw a puddle of my pre-cum building up in the gap. With my cigar between my fingers, I rubbed my thumb over it and brought it back up to my mouth, sticking my tongue out. The rope of pre-cum, stretching from my stiff red dickhead to my fuzzy chin, shimmered like a spider-web after a light, Spring-time shower.
For the rest of that sultry evening, I sat in Dad’s rocking chair, smoking, drinking and beating off. I couldn’t help but remember how many times he’d busted through the screen door when I had said or done something to disappoint him, and sit in this same chair, smoking and sulking.
Even after I shot a load, I just sat there and rocked. It must’ve been 2 a.m. Friday morning before I felt myself dozing off; I went upstairs and lied down on top of the unmade sheets and cover on my old bed.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Friday morning, the hot West Texas sun poured through the bedroom window and woke me up. I looked over at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It was already a quarter to eleven. “Shit,” I thought to myself, as I scrambled into the bathroom, “if I don’t get my ass over to Dad’s office before Noon, they’ll be closed for lunch and half the day will be fucking shot!”
I brushed my teeth and took a short shower. Still naked, I scampered down to the front porch and grabbed my pack of cigarettes. I had a whopper of a fucking headache, and wouldn’t you know it, the pack was empty. Damn!
I hustled upstairs. Since I was meeting the Monsignor for dinner at his rectory at 5, I went ahead and pulled my suit out of my duffel bag and put it on. Instead of fumbling around with the tie, I folded it and stuffed it in the pocket of my jacket.
By the time I got downstairs, I realized Dad’s keys were in the pocket of my jeans. I rushed back upstairs, grabbed them, locked up the house, and jumped into my Dad’s truck. When I started it up, I could see that the fuel gauge was on “Low,” but I remembered there was a gas station on the way where I could fill up… and get a cup of coffee and a fucking pack of smokes!
After I filled up the tank, I went inside, got a cup of coffee and asked for a pack of Marlboros from the cashier. It seemed like forever while she swiped my card and gave me a receipt to sign.
Back in the truck, I took a quick slug of coffee and burned myself. Damn! I put it in the cup holder and tore the wrapper off my pack of smokes. I fumbled around my pockets, but couldn’t find my lighter. Shit! After running back into the store and grabbing a book of matches from the counter, I was back in my truck, lit up and got back onto SR 359 headed west to my Dad’s office. I was already sweating like a pig in my fucking suit.
I made a quick left and pulled into the gravel parking lot at my Dad’s office- “office” being a glorified term for a trailer perched on cinder blocks and a set of wooden stairs leading up to the door. When I got to the door, the blinds in the window were pulled shut and a sign hung in the window with the face of a clock on it. The sign said “Will return at,” and the hands on the face of the clock below were set to 1:00.
I fumbled with my Dad’s keys, trying to figure out which one- if any- would unlock the door. Next thing I knew, I heard something banging around inside and at least two voices. The first thing that popped into my head was that the place was being burglarized. And that I’d also left my fucking phone back at the house and couldn’t call the cops!
It almost goes without saying that there has hardly been a day in my life that I haven’t had some incredibly dumb idea pop into my thick skull. Today would be no different. I decided I would try to quietly open the door, go in, surprise the burglars and scare them off. Damn, I wished that strapping stud foreman, Buks Nell, was here to back me up.
First, I tested the door and found it was unlocked. I pushed it open slowly, hoping the rusted hinges wouldn’t creak. As I stuck my head in, the banging and bumping was louder and I could hear heavy breathing. I smelled the familiar scent of my Dad’s favorite brand of cigar burning.
And I saw Buks Nell’s hairy muscular ass thrusting into Nikki, the office manager’s backside. Buks’ Ben Davis work pants were dropped to the floor and circled around his white socks and work boots. Nikki’s skirt was on the floor and her blouse was d****d across the back of her desk chair. The front of Buks’ sleeveless t-shirt was pulled over his head and stretched tight across his thick neck and wide back. As they fucked on the desk, one of my dad’s cigars smoldered in an ashtray next to them and a bottle of Wet lubricant sat next to that.
Before I could shut the door and beat a hasty retreat, the fucking rusty hinges on the door started to squeal. Buks let go of Nikki’s breasts, stood upright and turned around, facing me as I peaked through the door like some kind of “peeping Tom”. Fully erect and sporting a light purple-headed boner aglow with lube, Buks recognized me and beamed a smile as sunny and wide as a Cape Town beach on his black-bearded face.
Forgetting that his pants were wrapped around his ankles, he started to walk toward me with his hand out. When he almost tumbled over, he stopped himself, chuckled and bent over. He pulled up his work pants, but that 8-1/2 inch fat dick of his wasn’t having anything to do with being stuffed into his trousers. When it popped out of his open zipper, I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
He walked up to me, put one big hairy arm behind my shoulder while the other wrapped behind my head and pulled me into the heavy black forest of hair across his chest. “Ahweh, my bru,” he said, meaning “Hello, my friend”. “Howzit since the news of yer late Pops?” he whispered in my ear, meaning “How’s it going since your Dad passed away?”
His thick, greasy boner pressed against my shirt as it found its way inside my jacket and against my gut.
By now, Nikki stood up, trotted behind her desk and covered her full, light brown breasts with her blouse.
Buks had immigrated to Texas when he was 16, sponsored by his father. When he couldn’t take his father’s abuse anymore, he enlisted in the Navy. When he discharged at age 24, he came to my Dad’s fledgling construction company and asked for a job. As a fellow Navy vet, my Dad felt obliged to give him a chance as a laborer. For awhile, Buks even slept on the couch at our house. Twenty-two years later, Buks was the central figure in my Dad’s thriving business. He was also known for the wet spot that showed up constantly next to the zipper in his khaki pants, and for taking every piece of snatch available to him- including lovelorn housewives wanting estimates for a new deck, kitchen, or whatever. Now, at age 46, Buks was as robust and virile as ever.
Dad hired Nikki to run the office after my Mom got sick and couldn’t work anymore. About the same age as Buks, Nikki was a stunning Latina woman with deep brown eyes and a hefty bust. But she also had a strong maternal instinct, and in the weeks before my Mom eventually died, she’d bring something delicious to work that my Dad could bring home, re-heat and share with my Mom, my brother and me for supper.
One thing I didn’t know about Nikki, until then, was that she had a dick. As she stood behind her desk, I saw that she was endowed with a thick, uncut brown cock and low-hanging balls, completely shaved.
When I finally took my eyes off Nikki, I looked up into Buks’ furry face and told him, “I can come back later, buddy.”
Buks let out a big laugh and slapped me on the back. “You can come back later and we’ll prob’ly still be fokken,” he said, meaning fucking.. “Or you can shut the fokken door, take yer clothes off, go sit in your Pops’ chair, and join the fokken party, mate!.”
He slapped me hard on the butt, and said, “It’s all the same either way, bru! That okay with you, Nikki?”
“That’s ok with me, Buks,” she answered.
I slammed the door shut and twisted the lock closed. I took off my suit coat and hung it on the hat rack next to the door. Buks laughed again. While I unbuttoned my shirt and took it off, he unbuckled my belt, unzipped my pants and pulled them down to my shoes. I kicked off my shoes and lifted one foot at a time as he bent over and took my pants off. As I hung them up next to my jacket, Buks spit into both of his hands and rolled my throbbing boner between them.
Taking my dick in his big hand, he told me, “Come on over here.” Dragging me by my dick, he pulled me over to Nikki’s desk. “Give Guy his Dad’s cigar,” Buks told her. Nikki dropped her blouse, came around the desk, and handed me the cigar burning in the ashtray. I stuck the cigar in my jaw and puffed a few times to get it going good again.
Buks said, “I may not be a smoker, but I just love the smell of a good cigar- especially when I’m fokken!”
He spit into both of his hands again and rubbed up my cock with it. I plopped my ass down in my Dad’s old office chair, grabbing my stiff rod pointing straight up to my belly-button. With that cigar in my mouth, I started puffing and stroking my meat.
Buks bent Nikki back over her desk. He grabbed his bottle of lube and squirted it over his dick, put it down, and spread her cheeks. I could see that he’d made a definite impression on her sweet brown hole. He put himself back inside her and started rocking his hips back and forth. Both of them groaned as they fucked. I had to let go of my dick, afraid I was about to shoot.
Buks turned his face toward me while he fucked Nikki and grinned. He said, “That’s a mighty fine collection of artwork on your skin, mate! Ever think you’re gonna run out of room?”
I chuckled, put my cigar back in my mouth, and grabbed my dick again. “Maybe I will, Buks, when you run dry on cum!” I said.
Buks laughed and stepped up his pace fucking Nikki’s hole. After awhile, he looked back at me again, and said, “Doesn’t all that ink scare off the konts?” he asked, meaning cunts.
Taking my cigar out of my mouth, I replied, “Wouldn’t know about cunts, Buks. I’m a dick and ass man, myself.”
“Are you now, bru?” he answered, with a big smile on his face. His dick came out of Nikki’s ass with a “plop” and he walked over to where I sat. He kicked my knees apart and stepped between them. He put his greasy dick in my face, and pulled my face forward with his hand on the back of my head. Holding my cigar between my fingers, I wrapped my arm around his waist and took his dick in my mouth. The sweet perfume from the lube he was using filled my nostrils as I took his shaft into my throat and buried my nose in his hairy bush. “Sweet,” Buks said as he started rocking his hips again and throat fucking me.
Nikki sat up and brought her own rod to attention with two fingers up her ass. The heavy bush surrounding Buks’ balls banged against the hair on my chin as he glided perfectly down my throat. He put his hand on my neck, feeling my Adam’s apple go up and down with every stroke in my throat.
I don’t think I’ve ever sucked cock that eagerly in my life, but finally, I gagged. It must’ve been the first time in a very long time, but I choked and he pulled his dick out of my throat.
“Easy, bru,” he told me.
He turned around and walked back to Nikki’s desk. He put both of his hands on the edge of the desk, and hoisted his ass on top of it. Nikki backed up to him, and Buks grabbed her around the waist. Suddenly, he lifted her and sank his dick in her ass as she spread her legs across his thighs and she faced me. That Buks knew how to fuck!
“Get on her joint!” Buks ordered me.
And I did exactly as I was told. I put down my cigar, and took Nikki’s shaved rod in my mouth. I only took her cock out of my mouth to spit on it and watch my drool run down her shaved balls and onto Buks’ hairy sack below as he fucked her ass.
When the moment came, Buk’s dick started shooting up Nikki’s slot and then his load started dripping down over his hairy nuts. He started breathing hard and groaning. About the same time, Nikki’s cock knocked her load into the back of my throat. Like a greedy fucker, I slurped up every drop of Buks’ load draining out of Nikki’s ass, then stood up and blew my own load between Nikki’s ripe breasts.
Sighing, Buks leaned back on Nikki’s desk and she fell back with him, his dick still up her ass. My load made a puddle between her breasts. He dipped his paw in and fed Nikki my spunk.
“Shit!” Buks hollered. “That’s even hotter than when your fokken Pops decided to join us!”
Grunting and groaning, Buks and I rolled our hairy bodies over Nikki’s smooth, cum-soaked body for a while. We stuck to each others’ skin like Scotch tape on a birthday package.
I couldn’t resist asking him, “You mean my Dad joined in with you two?”
“Oh yeah,” he replied. “At first, he used to just sit nekk** in that chair, smokin’ and jerkin’- like you were. But after your mum passed, he’d join right in, the both of us friggin’ this fine woman’s arse.”
After a while, I got up and ran out to my Dad’s truck. The hot gravel in the parking lot stung the bottoms of my bare feet. I must have looked like a fucking naked idiot. I fetched a cigarette, lit it, and hopped back across the scorching gravel and back into my dad’s office, smoking.
I gave Buks’ dick a tug, and unable to resist myself, got on my knees and sucked his limp, sticky cock-helmet. Nikki rubbed her hands over my shaved head while I did. When I stood up, Buks told me that I could trust him- then told me that he would see me shortly.
Nikki and Buks sat on her desk, wrapped their legs around each other, and kissed. I pulled my clothes back on and left them to each other. I only wished I didn’t have so many appointments to keep. Or that it was my Dad, along with me, making love with that stunning couple.
I went into my Dad’s office and sat down. On his desk in front of me sat a brown portfolio envelope with the business card of a lawyer stapled on the cover. I opened it and pulled out a bunch of papers. “Last Will and Testament – Frank Madidix” “Power of Attorney – Frank Maddix” “Deed of Trust- Calvary Hills Catholic Cemetery – Frank Maddix” “Articles of Incorporation – Frank Maddix and Sons Construction Co.”
Nikki came to the door of my Dad’s office. Buks soon appeared behind her. “I’m sorry all of this shit landed on yer head, Guy,” Buks said to me. “Call the lawyer,” Nikki said, and then, “Can I get him on the line for you?”
I shook my head and she put me through to him. By the time I hung up, I had an appointment with the lawyer next Tuesday morning at 9 a.m.
As I walked out of my Dad’s office carrying the envelope with Dad’s papers, Buks came up to me. He’d put his shirt and work pants on, but was still barefoot. He told me Nikki was in the bathroom, dressing and “freshening up”. He put his hand on my shoulder, and asked me, “Mate, ya’ got any ideas about the business?”
“Buks, first I gotta go over these papers and see if I can figure out what Dad wanted, then talk with the lawyer,” I told him. “Trust me, Buks; I completely understand where you are coming from in all of this.”
“I hope you do, indeed, mate,” he said. “And thanks for making it a hot fuck! You’re every bit the stud your Pops was, even if you prefer just dick.” He laughed, and added, “Never could convince your old man that it’s only skin anyways.”
After I got in Dad’s truck, I placed the envelope on top of my Dad’s Navy blues sitting on the passenger seat next to me. I lit a cigarette and started up the truck. The clock on the dashboard said it was 2:00. I rolled down the window and rested my elbow outside of it. I had an hour to get to the funeral home for my appointment, but I would have to go straight through downtown Laredo and traffic along the way.
But for a few minutes, I just wanted to sit, smoke and think. It occurred to me that even though I didn’t have a clue what was in Dad’s final directives, Nikki must have. She’d pulled them out and put them all together for me, after all. And if she knew, did Buks, too?
I took a final drag on my smoke. When I pulled open the ashtray, I found it completely stuffed, so I flicked the butt out the window, pulled out of the parking lot and made a left onto SR 359. In the end, I thought to myself, my Dad had made all the decisions he needed to and, as usual, was in charge.
When I got to Hillside Funeral Home, I pulled my tie out of my jacket pocket and put it on. I got out of the truck and walked over to the passenger side. I took my Dad’s Navy blues off the passenger seat, shut the door, and walked up to the entrance.
When I went in, a man in a crisp blue suit greeted me and escorted me into a conference room. We sat down, and he offered the usual condolences. I put my Dad’s plastic-wrapped uniform on the large table. The funeral director explained to me that when my Mom died over 10 years back, my Dad had purchased what they called a “Pre-Need” contract. I’d never heard that term before: “Pre-Need.”
He said the contract covered the preparation of his body for burial, casket, fees for stuff like transportation and Church services, and a plot next to my Mom up at Calvary Hills- even a notice in the newspaper. Dad had already paid for all of it. He told me that the sales person had probably offered a viewing at the funeral home in the package, but that since it wasn’t in the contract, Dad probably didn’t want it.
I told him that since my Dad was of Irish descent, he might appreciate an old-fashioned drunken wake- most likely at the AmVets where he belonged. “Can you get in touch with them?” I asked. “They can put the drinks on my credit card.”
“As a matter of a fact, I’m a member of the local post,” he told me. “I’ll arrange it myself; there won’t be any charge.”
“Since I spoke with you, Guy, I went ahead and got in touch with Monsignor Silos at the Cathedral to schedule your Dad’s funeral service,” he said. “If you approve, the services will be held next Wednesday, at 10 a.m. I’ve arranged for his burial immediately after the service- probably around Noon.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate it.”
He said he would be in touch with the Post Commander at AmVets and arrange for a wake at 6 p.m., Tuesday, the day before burial. A notice would run in the Sunday paper. He asked me about the uniform that I had laid on the table earlier.
I told him, “A couple of months ago, we buried my brother, Gabe, and he wore his old Navy uniform to the service. It fit him like a charm. I was hoping that he could be buried in it.”
“No problem, Guy,” he told me. “Would you like to see your Dad before you go? It won’t be shocking; a lot of the work has been done already.”
For the first time since getting the news of my Dad’s death, I felt like crying. I mean, out-loud really bawling. I grabbed the arms of the chair so hard my knuckles turned white. I let out a howl, put my arms in front of me on the table, and buried my head in them. Man, did I cry.
When I sort of had control of myself, I sat back up in the chair. I rubbed my hand over my eyes and said, “No. I’ll say good-bye Wednesday morning.”
The funeral director stood up and so did I. He firmly shook my hand and told me that he hoped the arrangements would meet every expectation of my Dad and me. He walked me to the door, and I stepped outside onto the portico. As he closed the door, I fumbled in my inside jacket pocket for a smoke. I stuck it in my trembling lips, fumbled with the lighter and finally lit it. My knees were shaking so bad, I thought I’d drop like a ton of bricks if I tried to walk back to the truck. I leaned against the railing of the portico and took a long drag from my smoke. And another. And another. Wiping my eyes, smoking and missing my Dad.
When I got back in the truck, it was 4:00. I had plenty of time to get back downtown to the Cathedral. I decided to head in that direction anyway. The Cathedral of San Agustin was an historic site, and I knew if nothing else, the chapel would be open if I got there early. I needed some peace and quiet.
For at least half an hour, I sat in the cool adobe chapel. I loosened my tie and sat back in the old pew made from mesquite wood. I bent over and put my head in my hands on the pew in front of me. I got up, went to a bank of candles and lit one. I put a dollar in the slot of the tin box next to it. I was tired- I really wanted to go back to my Dad’s house, have a smoke and go to sleep. I went back to where I had been sitting and slumped into the pew.
Finally, I got up, went into the heat outside and stretched like a puppy dog. I lit up another smoke, and pulled up my tie. When I was finished smoking, I walked down the path of clay tiles to the parish Rectory. I rang the bell, and shortly, Monsignor Silos opened the door and greeted me with a hug.
The padre was wearing jeans with a fancy belt decorated with Native American beads around it. A big Mexican cowboy shirt covered his chest- open at the collar- with a cow-tail lariat necktie around his neck. He opened his arms to me like he was giving communion at Mass, and hugged me.
“Guy Maddix!” he exclaimed, with a slight Spanish accent. “Let’s sit down and eat!”
He took me into the kitchen, and apologized for the Spartan surroundings. He laid a book of Biblical passages on the table and asked me to look through it. He opened the door to an old oven and pulled out a foil-covered casserole, sat it on the burners above, and peeled back the foil. He pulled a couple of Modelos Negros beers out of the fridge, and popped off the caps. After he set them on the table, he took a spatula and dished up some enchiladas from his casserole for both of us to eat.
I took off my suit jacket and hung it on the back of my chair. I hadn’t eaten in a couple of days, and the padres’ enchiladas hit the spot. The Monsignor smiled at me as I wolfed down the food he offered me with a spoon, pausing only to lift my bottle of beer to my lips.
When I’d finished eating, he asked if I wanted more. Even though I wanted more, I said “No, padre. Mind if we take our beers outside and have a smoke?”
He got up from the table and put our dishes in the sink. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out another couple of beers.
“There’s a bench in the garden with an ashtray next to it, Guy,” he said. “I gave up cigarettes a long time ago- and so should you! But let’s go sit and talk.”
Outside, I lit a cigarette and we talked. Our family never was much into church-going, until somebody had to be buried. I felt guilty accepting his hospitality. I put my smoke out and we went back inside.
“Do you have a favorite reading you want me to give at your father’s Mass?” he asked.
“I do, Monsignor,” I answered. “Something from the Nativity according to St. Luke.”
“St. Luke is such a stern book,” he told me. “The Nativity from kurtköy escort bayan St. Matthew is much more serene.”
“Then the stern book of St. Luke is perfect for my Dad,” I answered.
“I think you should speak before Communion, Guy,” he told me.
“I will, padre,” I replied. “I’m going home tonight and getting on my Dad’s computer- print out ‘The Sailor’s Prayer’. Okay?”
The priest nodded his head. Then he noticed the grease stain on my shirt- the one Buks left when he hugged me and his fat greasy cock crept inside my jacket, rubbing against my shirt.
“Guy!” he said with dismay, “I hope my enchilada sauce hasn’t stained your shirt!”
He scurried over to the sink, grabbed a sponge and tried to rub the grease stain from my shirt.
I got up and took his hands in both of mine. I kissed his bended fingers, reached for my jacket and put it on.
He walked me to the door and told me that if I had anything I needed to talk over before the funeral next Wednesday, to give him a call. He said a notice would appear in Sunday’s church bulletin. I thanked him, got in the truck and drove home.
It was still early when I got back to my Dad’s house- at least “early” by my standards. I called the airline, explained my situation and asked if I could get a seat back to D.C. after my Dad’s funeral next Wednesday. They got me on a flight out of Laredo at 5.p.m. Then I stripped and got in the shower and turned it on hot. I soaped up real good, and watched the suds flow down my inked skin in the steam from the shower, through my golden bush, down my legs and into the drain.
After I rinsed myself, I toweled off and got in my old bed. “Am I being a sorry-assed puppy dog wondering why Napoleon hasn’t called me back?” I thought to myself. As I fell asleep, I thought, “It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. Or maybe I just like fucking with him so much!”
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Saturday morning, I woke up to the sound of a vehicle pulling up in the driveway and then a stiff rap on the door. I sat up, pulled on my jeans and went downstairs. When I answered the door, Buks was there smiling at me. “Well, don’t just stand there,” he said. “Invite me in ya’ motherfucker!”
I reached up and hugged the big man. “Come on in!” I said. “Want some coffee?” I asked.
“Cup of tea would hit the spot,” he said. “Ya’ got any?”
I shuffled through the cabinets and drawers in the kitchen, but couldn’t find any tea. “Sorry,” I said.
“That’s alright,” Buks told me. “I just dropped by to see if I could take ya with me up to Lakeside for some skinny dippin’ and fokken in the woods at Lake Casa Blanca. Ya’ game?” he asked.
Well, I was more than “game”, but I told him, “I’ve been waiting for a call from a buddy of mine- Napoleon. I don’t want to miss the call,” I said.
“I think I know who you mean,” Buks answered. “He the bloke that married one of your brother’s pretty gooses, and your brother stood up as Best Man for him at their weddin’?”
“Yeah- Napoleon,” I replied.
“Well, if he ain’t called ya’ back by now, bru,” Buks said, “why not go corner him at work? Last I heard of him, he was workin’ up at a motorcycle shop- Laredo Choppers.”
I told him that maybe I would. “How do I get there?” I asked him.
“It’s off the interstate,” he told me. “Go north on 35 and take the Santa Ursula turn-off and head west.”
Buks smiled and chuckled, then fondled my groin. “You fokken with a married bloke, mate?”
I put my own hand over his as it cradled my crotch. “I hope so!”
He let go of me and headed for the door, laughing. “Let me get my ass up to the lake,” he said. “Maybe I’ll find some willin’ ass or kont in the bushes! I’ll drop by tomorrow and see how you’re doin’.”
After Buks left, I went upstairs, cleaned myself up and got dressed. I made some coffee and had a smoke. The pack was getting close to empty.
I jumped in my Dad’s truck and headed west on SR 359. When I got to I-35, I headed north and made the exit at Santa Ursula. Shortly, I saw the sign on the right, “Laredo Choppers”. I pulled into the parking lot and saw Napoleon’s truck with his bike up in back.
I pulled a boner right away.
As I got out of the truck, I saw Napoleon dragging a ramp to the back of his truck. He lowered the tailgate and hooked up the ramp. I lit a cigarette and walked toward him. As he started to get in the back of his truck, he saw me, jumped down and walked in my direction. I took another drag on my smoke, threw it away and continued to walk toward him. When we met, we hugged each other. I wanted to lift him off the ground.
When we let go of each other, he looked down at the stiffy in my crotch. “You happy to see me, brother, or what?” he asked. A bright smile lit up his sunny Latin face.
“Hell yeah!” I shouted, beaming myself.
Napoleon put his hands in the pockets of his overalls. “What brings you back to town?” he asked me.
“My Dad died on Tuesday,” I told him. “Funeral’s next Wednesday. I spoke to your wife and mentioned it. Didn’t she tell you?”
“Holy shit!” Napoleon said. “No, she didn’t. I’m surprised she didn’t hit me in the head with a frying pan,” he added, chuckling.
“I don’t get it, Napoleon,” I said. “Why would she want to hit you?”
He patted me on the fanny and told me to go get in his truck, and then he joined me. He turned to me with a dead-serious look on his face.
“After you left, I was feeling all guilty and stuff,” he said, “so a couple days later I just broke down and told her what happened between you and me.”
“Everything?” I asked.
“Well, not everything,” he answered. “But enough. I was so sorry.”
“Sorry about what happened with us?” I asked, feeling a little annoyed.
He playfully slapped me up the side of my head, and said, “No way, man. That was fucking hot- I’ll never forget it!”
We were quiet for awhile and he looked down in his lap. Obviously, he was trying to hold himself together- to keep from crying.
“I was so fucking sorry I went behind her back like that,” he stammered. “I never thought it would happen and it will never happen again. I promised her.”
“So what happened when you told her?” I asked. “Did she cry?”
Napoleon looked back up at me and chuckled while he wiped his eyes. “She didn’t cry, Guy. I was crying like a baby, though. She got really mad- and I mean really mad. We were sitting in the kitchen and I almost thought she was gonna go after me with one of her kitchen knives or something- and at that moment, I wouldn’t have blamed her if she did.”
“Holy fuck,” I said.
“Holy fuck is right,” he said. “She kept yelling at me and telling me to get ‘that fucking Guy Maddix’ on the phone.”
He added, “I kept telling her that yelling at you over the phone for half an hour wasn’t gonna make her feel any better, that you were all the way back in D.C. I told her that calling you just wasn’t going to do any good.”
“Wow,” I whispered.
“So then she tells me, ‘Fine! You know what would do some fucking good, Napoleon? What would do some fucking good is if I met that bastard face to face and straightened his lousy ass out!’” Napoleon said that she wanted him to call me and tell me to get my ass back to Laredo to see her.
“But you never called me, buddy,” I told him.
“Nope, I didn’t,” he said. “She told me that sooner or later, you would be back in town and she would find you. She told me to get my good-for-nothing ass out in the garage. Then she came down with a blanket and some of my stuff and said I could sleep in my truck until I called you up. Then she locked the door.”
“Damn!” I said. “I’m really sorry.”
Napoleon laughed. “So I spent the next two weeks eating sandwiches and drinking beers out of my cooler that I’d pick up on the way home. I tried to scrub myself in the laundry sink in the garage as best I could so I didn’t stink at my job. When I had to piss or take a dump, I drove up to the gas station at the end of the block.”
“What happened after two weeks?” I asked him.
“Well, I pulled into the garage one day after work, and saw her standing by the door leading into the kitchen. She told me she was tired of our daughter asking her why daddy wanted to live in the garage and that I could come back in the house. She even let me back in the bedroom, but since then, all we do is sleep. She keeps saying she wants to see you, so I’m surprised she didn’t tell me that you called.”
“Napoleon,” I said, “I want you to tell Cindy that you found out I was back in town for my Dad’s funeral, and that you called me.”
“That’s a bad idea,” he said.
“When are you off work?” I asked him.
“The shop’s closed Sunday and Monday,” he answered.
“Fine. When you get home tonight, tell Cindy I’m coming over around lunchtime tomorrow.”
“That’s also a bad idea, Guy,” he said. “Tomorrow’s Sunday, and my daughter will be home. She’s already seen enough weirdness.”
“Is she at school on Monday?” I asked him.
“Yeah, but…” he said, until I interrupted him.
“Good. Unless I hear from you, I’ll be there at Noon on Monday,” I told him. “If that’s what Cindy wants, that’s the least that she deserves.”
“Man, this is gonna be weird,” Napoleon told me. “There’s no way I’d just walk away after what happened between you and me. But I love my wife and I’m gonna do all I can to keep her.”
“Understood, stud,” I told him and then got out of his truck.
As I walked around to the back of his truck, Napoleon joined me there. He went up the ramp and unhitched the straps from his bike. He swung his leg over the seat and started backing it down the ramp. Seeing those overalls get nice and tight over his sweet butt made me hard.
“Treating myself to some new details,” he said, referring to his bike.
When he got his bike off his truck, I put my fuzzy chin next to his jaw. “I’ll see you Monday, fucker,” I whispered in his ear.
He shook his head and goosed me. “Monday it is, big boy!”
As he started up his bike and rode it into the shop, I took out my last cigarette and lit it.
On the way back to my Dad’s house, I stopped at his favorite liquor store. I picked up a carton of Marlboros, a case of MGD bottles, and two fifths of Cutty. I also cleaned out their supply of Monte Cristo cigars.
Down the road, I found a sex shop, stopped and went inside. I picked up two bottles of Wet lubricant and a bottle of poppers. Whatever happed over the next few days, I wasn’t doing without!
Back at the house, I got everything out of the truck and put it all away. I took the envelope containing all my Dad’s papers out of the truck and put it on the kitchen table. After showering upstairs, I came back to the kitchen and turned on the overhead light. Since the beer wasn’t cold yet, I got my shot glass and ashtray off the porch. I filled the glass, lit one of my fresh cigars, and knocked back the whiskey. I pulled Dad’s papers out of the envelope and spread them on the table.
By the time I went to bed several hours later, the bottle was half empty and the ashtray overflowed with cigar and cigarette butts. Two loads of cum were drying in my bush. I’d expected to be happy when I finished going through my Dad’s papers, but as dropping two loads on myself attested, I found a lot more to be happy about than I had bargained for!
Until I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t wait for my fuck-buddy Buks to rap on the door Sunday morning- even though I forgot to pick up some fucking tea bags!
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Before showering Sunday morning, I went downstairs and put on some coffee. I dumped the ashtray and rapped a fresh pack of smokes against the counter. I peeled off the wrapper, took one out and lit it. Taking the ashtray with me, I went outside and sat, smoking, while the coffee brewed. To be honest, I was hoping Buks would show up before I went back upstairs to get dressed; maybe I could get him in the shower with me.
When I finished my smoke, I decided to go back in, clean myself up and get dressed. I left the door open in case Buks showed up while I was inside. I brushed my teeth and showered. The scruff on my face could’ve used a trim, but I didn’t feel like doing it. Back in my room, I put on my jeans and grabbed a fresh pair of socks and a white t-shirt from my brother’s drawers. I put on my boots, went downstairs and poured myself a mug of coffee. I went outside and took another cigarette. Before I finished smoking it, Buks pulled up in his truck and met me on the porch. “Howzit!” he bellowed and hugged me like a bear.
In one hand, Buks held a box of tea bags and handed it to me. “Feel like puttin’ on some water for me?” he asked.
“Sure thing!” I replied.
We went inside and while he sat down at the kitchen table, I put a pot of water on the stove. I pulled down another mug and dropped a tea bag in it. While I waited for the water to boil, I topped off my own mug of coffee. When the water boiled, I splashed some into his mug and gave it to him as I sat down.
“So ya’ game for some skinny-dippin’ and fokken up at the lake?” Buks asked me.
“Damn right I am, buddy!”
He took the tea bag out of his mug and took a sip with his twinkling brown eyes staring at me over the rim. He slammed down his mug and growled, “Fokken-A!”
I told Buks that before we left, I needed to discuss some business with him. I told him that last night, I’d gone through my Dad’s papers. “OK, mate,” he told me.
I explained that, as best I could tell, he left his personal property and this house to me, since now I was his sole survivor. Buks shook his head. Then I told him that he left equal shares of the construction business to me, his sole survivor, and to Buks. Again, he calmly shook his head. Finally, I told him that Dad had named Nikki as executor of his estate and that she would be responsible for distributing the proceeds. Buks took a gulp from his mug and calmly shook his head again.
“Something tells me that you already knew about this,” I told him.
“Of course I knew about it!” he laughed. “Your Pops told Nikki and me his intentions a long time ago. He never thought you or your brother would ever be interested in takin’ over the business and would just sell it off cheap or let it go to hell!” He said that he and Nikki had already planned to meet me at the lawyer’s office on Tuesday morning.
I asked him, “So I guess now that we’re 50-50 partners, neither of us can do anything without the permission of the other, right?”
He shook his head, got up and put his hand on my shoulder. “The only fokken permission I’m wantin’ right now is to share as many loads of man-juice as we can muster down by the lake, bru!”
“You got it, buddy!” I pulled a six-pack out of the fridge and a fresh cigar from the counter.
“Lube’s already in the truck,” he told me as I started to head upstairs.
After I locked up the house and stuffed my smokes and lighter into my back pocket, I found myself practically running to his truck and jumping in. Before I closed the door, he took the six-pack and cigar from me. He stuck the cigar in the front pocket of his shirt and closed the door. He walked around and opened the rear cab door and put the beer in a cooler sitting next to a rolled-up sleeping bag on the back seat. After he got in his seat and fired up the engine, he slapped me on the knee and bent over to kiss me.
“Here’s to good times, mate,” he said.
“Giddy-up!” I replied.
When we got to the lake, Buks pulled off onto a dirt road. About half-way to the water, he pulled off the road and parked. “We walk from here, mate,” he told me. Outside the truck, he handed me the sleeping bag and grabbed the cooler.
Leading me through the brush and pine, we arrived at a secluded spot and I unrolled his sleeping bag. His bottle of lube fell out as I did. After spreading out the sleeping bag, I tossed it on top. Both of us stripped off our clothes as fast as we could.
I went over to the cooler and unscrewed the top from a bottle of beer, and walked onto the sleeping bag, holding it out to him. “How about a cold one, Buks?” I asked.
“How about a hard one!” he replied as he pushed the beer away and dropped to his knees. forcefully grabbing my balls with one hand and his own thick boner with the other, he said, “Enjoy yourself, mate; I think I’ll make myself busy suckin’ on this awhile if ya’ don’t mind!”
With that, he swallowed my cock all the way to where his hand was stretching my nuts. When he finally came up for air, he took a deep breath, cleared his nose and launched a thick load of spit straight into my piss-slit. He stuck out his tongue and loaded it up with his spit before working it inside me. Then he spit on his hand that was working his own bulging shaft and went back to jerking it.
Repeatedly, he took my shaft all the way into his mouth, sucking me really hard. The next time he came up, he took his hand off my nuts and spit on it. Before going back down on me, he grabbed my dick as firmly as he could and jerked me as hard as he was stroking himself. I put one hand on the back of his head and took a swig of beer with the other.
It wasn’t long before my knees started shaking. With his mouth and fist still working my rod, I squatted, put my hand behind me and came to rest on my elbows. I spread my legs and pointed my knees to the sky.
Buks didn’t miss a beat. I handed him my bottle of beer and he came up for a belt. Then he handed it back to me and was right back on my dick, sucking and rimming my slit with his tongue. And making a damn lot of noise as he happily went at it.
After awhile, he rolled over onto his back and motioned to me. I squatted over his face and he pulled my dick back into his mouth. I face-fucked him, bouncing up and down with my hips. He took his other hand off his dick, reached between my legs and started fingering my asshole.
With Buks’ thick boner and fat hairy balls staring at me, I crawled over him and took him all the way into my mouth. Just like on Friday back at the office, I couldn’t swallow that piece of lumber for very long without gagging, so I paced myself by taking it out and gliding my tongue up and down the back of his shaft and over his purple helmet. Then I’d take him all the way down my throat again.
About 20 minutes after that, I was sure I was going to shoot. I started working his dick faster and faster with my hand and mouth. I didn’t want to climax without him squirting, too. Even as I started to shudder and was ready to blow, he just kept working my dick and fingering my hole. Finally, I sort of yelped, “Hey Buks! I’m about to lose it!”
As I rocked my cock in and out of his mouth, I heard a muffled sound come from his throat. He took me out of his mouth for a second and said, “Yeah, mate, blow it!” and then swallowed me again.
I worked his cock furiously with my hands and mouth, but not more than two minutes later I knew I was going to finish. While stroking him as hard as I could, I took my mouth off him and said, “I’m cumming, Buks. I’m gonna cum right now!”
My load ripped up my shaft and out of my slit like water from a bent garden hose when it’s been released. “Yeah, bru!” Buks growled after he pulled my boner out of his mouth and pointed it straight down at his bearded face. I kept shooting my load and he kept swallowing me and then pulling me out over his face.
He spit on his hand and took over working his own cock. He worked it so hard that his big hairy balls were literally bouncing up and down, striking the back of his shaft and then bouncing off his thighs again. After a couple more minutes, his dick erupted with a powerful squirt that hit me in the nose as I leaned over his cock. Another squirt bounced off my fuzzy chin, and then another hit me in the forehead and started to drip down between my eyes. Fucking-A, bull’s-eye!
Buks groaned and grunted while he shot. First, I took the head of his dick between my lips and swabbed it off, and then I took him all the way down my throat. I wasn’t sure, but I hoped that for as long as I could swallow that monster, he was still blowing spunk down my throat.
Finally, he relaxed. While I cleaned cum out of his thick bush, I noticed how fine the gray hair was growing into his black nest. I rolled off the top of him and came around so we were face to face. He pulled ropes of his cum off my face with his hand and fed it to me on his fingers. His beard was covered with my spunk. I licked it off and fed it to him from my tongue. We wrapped our arms around each other and had a long, deep masculine kiss.
“So are you gonna fuck me like that, Buks?” I asked him.
He reached over and grabbed the bottle of lube and rapped my chin with it. “Even better, Guy,” he said. “Let’s take a dip and then have some lunch!”
We splashed around in the warm lake water for about half an hour. It was turning into a beautiful West Texas autumn afternoon. Several times, he put his big hand on top of my shaved head and told me to take a deep breath. Then he’d push me under the water surface and press my face into his crotch. When I came back up after the last time he did it to me, he laughed.
“Just practicin’ your breath control, son,” he said, grinning, “so the next time ya’ swallow my dick for a long time, ya’ won’t be gaggin’ on it!”
We waded back to the shore and got back on the sleeping bag. He opened the cooler and handed me a bottle of beer and a sandwich sealed in a plastic bag. He took the bottle cap and bag from me, stuffed it in the cooler, and then took out a beer and sandwich for himself. We stretched out on our sides facing each other. He took a big bite out of his sandwich. “Eat up, son,” he said, putting his bottle of beer to his lips.
That was the second time in less than 15 minutes that Buks had called me “son”. Even though I probably wouldn’t be calling him “Dad” – much less “Daddy”- anytime soon, this inked-up motherfucker felt warm inside when I heard him say it!
We finished our sandwiches and beers. Buks stowed the empty bottles in the cooler. I could see bread crumbs stuck in his beard; he probably saw the same on my scruff. I rolled over onto my stomach. Buks pulled up over my side; he put his arm across my back and his face behind my ears. I thought he was purring like a cat. We stayed like that until the sun started dropping in the western sky, turning the clouds yellow and orange.
Buks rose up and slapped me on the butt. “Come on, son,” he said. “We gotta get movin’!”
“I thought you were gonna fuck me,” I told him.
“We’ll see about that,” he said. “My latest goose is kicking me out of the hen house, and I gotta get my shit out of there by tonight.”
“What’s up with that?” I asked.
“Aw hell,” he sighed. “These konts all get to the same point sooner or later. First they want a commitment. Then the headaches start settin’ in. And then a horny bloke like me that just wants a reg’lar piece of ass gets shown the door. Story of my life.”
“Where ya’ going?” I asked.
“Like usual,” he said, “go sleep in the office ‘til I figure out somethin’ else.”
“Why not bring your shit over to the house?” I asked. “I’m gonna be leaving Wednesday and it would probably be great if you stayed there awhile, making the place look lived in.”
“I’ll take you at your word, son,” he said, and chuckled. “But what you really mean is that you want me to fokk yer bum!”
Sheepishly, I shook my head. “Well yeah- you promised you would, big man!”
“Let’s get our clothes back on,” he said. “I’ll grab the cooler and you roll everything else up in the sleeping bag.”
We got back to the house around 4 that Sunday afternoon. Buks grabbed the cooler while I took the sleeping bag. When we got in the house, I offered him some tea.
“The sooner I get goin’, son,” he said, “the sooner I’ll be back.”
Not thinking, I reached up to pluck my cigar from his shirt pocket, but he pushed my hand away. “I said I’ll be back,” he scolded me. “Be a couple hours. Keep yourself busy- clean out your ass. I hate shit and piss when I’m fokken!” He laughed and went out the door.
I hoped that this Sunday night was going to be sort of like Sunday nights when my brother and I were k**s, and my Dad “inspected” our assholes. Only tonight, “inspection” was going to be done by a stiff, horny Afrikaner dick. I bounded up the stairs two at a time, ripping my clothes off as I headed for the bathroom. I jumped in the shower and filled that old enema bottle with steamy water. I put the beak in my chute, and flushed it up my slot until it ran out clean. When I was done, I pulled a bottle of lube out of the medicine cabinet, went down stairs with it, and sat on the porch with a bottle of beer and my smokes.
For the next three hours, I sat in my Dad’s rocker, putting lube up my ass. All the while, I was drinking beers and smoking, until the headlights of Buks’ truck came plowing up the driveway.
He started pulling boxes and a couple of suitcases out of the back of his truck. I asked him, “You eat yet?”
“Not yet,” he barked at me. He pulled my cigar out of his front shirt pocket. He screwed open the tube and stuck the cigar in my mouth. “Get upstairs in bed and light this fokker,” he growled. “I’ll be up for supper in a minute- just make sure yer arse is being served!”
I heard him come back and forth through the door a couple more times, and then rumble up the stairs. When he came into my Dad’s bedroom, he was already stripped naked. He put me on my knees and elbows on the bed. I grasped my hands together with my cigar between my fingers. He spread my ass and started licking my hole. He pulled the bottle of lube off the bedside table and I could hear him greasing up his cock while he ate me out. I couldn’t believe how great his expert treatment of my ass felt!
“Thanks for greasing up your hole for me, son,” he growled. “Supper’s finished- it’s time for desert!”
As soon as his cock passed my rim, I knew there weren’t going to be a lot of preliminaries tonight. Just me getting fucked.
In no time flat, his whole shaft was up my chute and into some serious fucking. I took a drag on my cigar and tried to push my ass closer to him, but he was already filling me up to his balls and thrusting in and out of me like a man possessed. I fucking loved it, and told him so, loud and often! With his hands around my waist, he drilled my ass for a long time, rotating and coming at me from every direction he could. I tried to squeeze my slot around his dick, but he told me, “Knock it off. Let me do the fokken, son!”
After a long while, he flipped me over onto my back and parked my left leg over his right shoulder. I put my cigar in my mouth and he put that fucking dick of his up my ass again. He poured another shot of grease on my cock, and while he fucked me hard, he wrapped his slick hand around my cock. I wrapped my hand around his hand and the two of us stroked it so hard we practically pulled my dick out by the roots. Hr kept rocking his cock in and out of me, practically turning my fuck hole inside-out.
Finally, Buks started shaking and I knew he was going to cum. Beneath the thick hair on his chest, I could see his muscles tighten. I took one of his nipples in my hand and twisted it. I wrapped my other arm around his waist and forced him deep inside my spread ass. He kept jerking my dick until finally I gave it up and shot my own load.
Buks slowed down for maybe half a minute, and then started rapidly pounding my hole some more. “Jeez!” he said to me. “There’s nothin’ like feelin’ the quiver inside a man’s fuck hole when he’s squirtin’ his juice!”
Shortly, Buks let out a shout and busted a fat wad in my ass. He took my leg off of his shoulder and pushed back so my knee was in my chest, fully exposing my chute and bringing my ass further up. He kept on pumping his hot seed inside me. When he was done, he climbed up over me. He stuck his cum-streaked cock over my chin and into my mouth. His hands were still shaking as he fed me his meat and cum. It had been more than an hour since we got started, and his hairy body was drenched with sweat. So was mine- his and my own.
“Ag!” he said, meaning “Wow”. I rolled the big man over and went down between his thighs to clean off his knob some more.
“Set the clock, son,” he told me after awhile. “I’m off to work early tomorrow.”
I set the clock for 6 a.m. As Buks turned over on his side, I scooted up behind him, stuck my arm under his neck and rested his chin in the palm of my hand. I took my other hand and wiped it in my crack, taking some of the seed dripping out of me onto my forearm and the back of my hand. I stuck that arm between my legs and under my balls. When the alarm clock went off the next morning, my arm was still there, covered with Buks’ dried semen.
Monday, October 15, 2007
As soon as we got up, Buks headed for the bathroom to shower. Before he got to the bedroom door, though, he turned back to me and asked, “You comin’ with me, son?”
As soon as we got in the bathroom, he lifted up the toilet seat and started to piss. I walked up next to him and did the same. He put his arm around my waist, and said, “Don’t be goin’ and splashin’ any on me!” He chuckled and made his stream harder- he splashed on me! I fucking loved it, and he could tell.
I pulled back the shower curtain and Buks stepped into the back of the tub. I bent over and turned on the faucet. When the temperature of the water was just right, I stepped into the tub in front of him, pulled the shower curtain closed and turned the shower on. I soaked myself down from head to toe, and then took off the shower head so I could do the same to him. By the time I turned around, I could see that both of us had a bad case of morning wood.
While I put the shower head over Buks, he reached out and grabbed my hard dick. He reached down and took the bar of soap and lathered me up- front and back, head to toe. He handed the soap to me and I did the same for him. I put the shower head back in its catch and turned around.
Buks grabbed my soaped-up boner. “Let’s see how fast we can make each other squirt, eh son? Just for sport!” I took his soapy piece of lumber in my hand, and the two of started pulling each other’s boners fast and furious. After about 10 minutes, Buks shot a stream of spunk that landed on my thigh. I kept jacking him until he coaxed my own stream of jizz out of my dick a minute or so later.
After we got out of the shower and were drying ourselves off, I asked Buks, “So what do I get for winning that little competition?”
“Winnin’?” he asked. He held his plump limp dick up and pointed at it. “I fokken won!”
“I fucking won,” I protested. “You shot first- I fucking won! All I want is do to bag your ass, ferchrisakes.”
“First one to shoot, wins,” he said, pointing at his dick again. “Besides, my ass is virgin and I ain’t givin’ it up in no stupid fokken contest!” We laughed together. “When I give up mine, it’s gonna be to a special man!” he said.
“You mean, like getting married?” I asked.
“Hell no!” he said. kartal escort bayan “Just a man so special that even after I been fokked a hundred times, I’ll still remember who took me first!”
Since there was only one sink, I left him to brush his teeth and shave. Naked, I went down to the kitchen to set up some coffee and hot water. I pulled out a couple of mugs and put them on the table. I went out to the porch, found a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. After I finished, I went back into the kitchen and waited for the coffee to finish brewing. When it was done, I poured some for myself. I put a tea bag in Buks’ mug and filled it with hot water.
When I looked up, Buks was marching down the stairs and already dressed for work. I picked up his mug and offered it to him, but he waved me off.
“No time, son,” he said, then added, “I may not be home tonight- one of the lady customers has invited me over for an evenin’ of fokken- but I’ll pick up Nikki and meet you at the lawyer’s office at 9 tomorrow morning.” With that, he was out the door and off to work.
“That stud doesn’t let any grass grow under his feet!” I thought to myself.
Neither was I, and maybe not in such a good way. Today, I was going to see Napoleon and his wife, Cindy, at their home in the Parkside area. I’d known Cindy from back in high school, when she hung around my twin brother Gabe and our mutual friend Napoleon. I didn’t know that Napoleon and Cindy had gotten married until he told me so after my brother’s funeral back in July; much less that he had a k**.
Since Napoleon hadn’t called me and said otherwise, I assumed everything was “on” for Noon, like we’d discussed on Saturday.
I went up to the bathroom and looked in the mirror; if I needed to trim my scruffy face yesterday, I needed it more so today. “Hell with it,” I thought, “maybe if I show up looking like a refugee from Sk** Row, Cindy won’t feel so threatened.” I brushed my teeth.
It was going to be another hot, humid day in Laredo, and I wondered what to put on. I rummaged through my Dad’s closet and pulled out a pair of black Dickie’s construction overalls. They’d be just loose enough on me to allow in a breeze, if one came up. I got another of my brother’s white t-shirts and put Dad’s overalls on over it. I took another pair of white socks from my brother’s drawer and put my boots on over them.
Back in the kitchen, I found my coffee was already cold and threw it down the sink. I took one of my Monte Cristo cigars and put the tube in one of the front bib pockets on my Dad’s overalls; I unwrapped a fresh pack of smokes, found my lighter, and tucked them in the other front bib pocket. “Maybe I oughta go find a hammer and stick it in the hammer loop,” I thought to myself, jokingly, “in case I have to protect myself later.”
It was just 8 a.m., and I was already bouncing off the walls. I got the keys, locked up the house and jumped in the truck. I decided I’d go up to Denny’s and get myself breakfast. I sat down at the counter, and when the waitress came up with a pot of coffee, I asked her for an ashtray.
“Ya’ can’t smoke any more in Laredo restaurants, honey”, she replied in her West Texas drawl. “Sorry, sweetheart.” I ordered waffles, sausages and eggs sunny-side up. In a few minutes, she brought out a warm platter and sat it down in front of me.
“Them’s some pretty darn nice tattoos you got on your arms, k**,” she said to me, “but I’d never let my k** get one- no way, no how!” She smiled and walked away.
Nothing like a smack-down from a West Texas momma. No ashtray. No tattoos. Jeez!
The butterflies were tickling my stomach so bad, I could hardly eat a bite. I pushed the platter away and finished my coffee. The waitress came by with her coffee pot and asked me if I wanted more. “Just a check, darlin’,” I said, suddenly comfortable in my own native Texas drawl.
“Be back with it in a flash, sweet pea,” she answered, as I gave her my credit card. I signed for the $5.85 tab and added a $10 tip. On the back of the slip, I wrote “Tattoo look fine on your ass, pudding-pie!”
By now, it was still only 9:30. I lit a smoke and got back in the truck. I figured I’d drive down to the Promenade along the Rio Grande River, park, and take a long walk.
After I did, I was feeling better. When I got back in the truck after my walk, it was almost 11:30- just enough time to get up to Napoleon’s house by Noon.
I pulled up in front of the ranch-style house that Napoleon, Cindy and their daughter lived in. I was about 5 minutes early, so I got out and fired up a smoke. Almost before I took it from my lips, Napoleon came running out his front door. “What are you doing here?” he frantically asked me. “I just called you and left a message telling you not to come!”
I put my cigarette in my mouth, pulled out my cell phone, and powered it up. “Oh yeah,” I said, “I see your message now. So what’s up? She doesn’t want to see me?”
“Oh yeah, brother,” he said, “she wants to see you real bad. She’s in total tantrum mode and acting real weird.”
“Weird?” I asked.
“Just weird, Guy,” Napoleon replied. “Fucking weird!”
“Any weapons around?” I joked. I sucked on my smoke, took it out of my mouth and crushed it under my boot.
“I’m not being funny, Guy,” he said urgently.
Grabbing his ass by the seat of his jeans, I led him up the walk to his front door. “Neither am I, brother,” I told him. “Neither am I.”
By the time we got to the front door, Cindy had already opened it and was leaning against the door jam, twirling her shoulder-length blonde hair. She was wearing a pale yellow tube top that exposed her navel, and tight white Wrangler jeans. Her lips were painted with pink lipstick. She was every boy’s dream of the unattainable Texas high school cheerleader, just all “grown up”.
“So here’s Guy Maddix,” she said, “the Maddix family bad boy.”
“Here I am, Cindy,” I said. “Long time, no see.”
“Yeah,” she said, coyly running her finger between her lips. “By all means, come on in,” she said, pushing the door all the way open and turning her back to me. As she led me through the house and into the kitchen, I couldn’t help notice how well her tight buns were packed into those white jeans.
“Nice ass, Cindy,” I said as I followed her.
She turned her face back to me and said, “Yeah. My husband thinks so, too!”
We got in the kitchen and Cindy told Napoleon and me to sit down at the table. She put her foot up on the chair next to me and leaned into my face.
“You know, Guy, I ought to grab a frying pan and put a big dent in your head,” she calmly said. “But what I’m here to know is why you thought you could have sex with my husband.”
“Did you fuck him?” she asked me.
“Look, Cindy, whatever Napoleon told you happened, is what happened. He’s sorry he went behind your back, and I guess, so am I,” I told her.
“You ‘guess so’- is that right, Guy?” she asked.
I squirmed in my chair. “No, I was wrong, Cindy. I was right there when my Dad called you up and lied to you about Napoleon being passed out when instead he was going to fuck me. I knew what I was doing- and I was wrong.”
You’re damn right you were wrong, Guy Maddix!” she whispered in my face. She slapped Napoleon on the back of his head, and yelled at him, “And so were you, you cocksucking sonovabitch!” It was the first time she raised her voice and I had a feeling we were getting into some choppy waters.
“There’s no excuse for what we did,” I told Cindy. Just to keep my nervous hands busy. I took my pack of cigarettes and lighter out of my front pocket and stacked them on the table, tapping them with my fingers.
“Tell me something I don’t already know!” she barked at me.
“Your husband is a bi-sexual man,” I tried to explain. “It’s not like you don’t give him everything he wants. He loves you, Cindy.”
“Yeah, he fucking loves me!” she shouted, and slapped Napoleon’s face with the back of her hand.
I got up from my chair as her hand cracked across his face. I picked up my cigarettes and lighter, stashing them back in my pocket. “I’m not here to give you any excuses, Cindy,” I said. “I’m here to give you a reason. If you want to slap somebody around, slap me. I deserve it more than he does.”
She sat down in the chair next to me. She put her elbow on the table and laid her chin on her hand. “I’m all ears, Mr. Maddix,” she said.
“You didn’t know that Napoleon was a bi-sexual man when you married him, Cindy,” I told her. “And maybe he didn’t either.” She started to interrupt me, but I “shushed” her with my finger to her lips.
I went on. “I’m sure he’s told you that you’ve given him everything most men could want from a wife,” I said. “Fine daughter. Fine family life. Fine home. Love and support. And the way I’ve heard it, a fantastic love life.”
“You’re damn right I have, Guy,” she said, “in ways you’d be only so lucky to know.”
“But your husband’s not like most other men, Cindy,” I told her, and then asked, “Are you, Napoleon?”
Napoleon rubbed his hand over his chin, hesitating. “I’m not like most other men, I guess,” he told Cindy. “I love you, but I have the same sexual interest in men that I have in women. And to what Guy said, I’ve known it as long as I can remember thinking about sex. I just never told you- or did anything about it since we’ve been together. Until now. And I love you as much as ever and will do whatever it takes to keep on loving you.”
After a minute, Cindy looked at Napoleon and said, “brother! Is that a crock of shit or what?”
Cindy looked back at me. “And so is that you’re story, too, Guy? You fuck around with women but every once in awhile you get your rocks off with a man? Another woman’s husband, no less?”
“That’s not my story at all,” I told her. “I’m just your everyday, Grade-A 100% homosexual, Cindy. Been that way all my life, as a matter of a fact.”
“Really?” she said. “Never fucked a woman- ever?”
“Nope,” I answered.
She looked truly dumbfounded and took a minute to let it sink in.
“Un-fucking-believable, Guy,” she finally said. “Nobody knew about this?”
“Not here,” I said, “except my Mom and Dad- maybe Gabe if they ever told him.”
“Un-fucking-believable,” she repeated. Turning to Napoleon, she asked, “And so what do you want from me, baby?”
At first Napoleon kind of mumbled, but then he spoke right up. “I want what I should’ve gotten before all this happened, baby. Permission.”
If there had been enough room in Cindy’s tight jeans for a bottle rocket, it would have gone off the second Napoleon said that word!
She jumped up and knocked over her chair. “Permission?” she barked at Napoleon. “I’ll give you fucking permission, buster!”
She pulled off her tube top, exposing her breasts and erect nipples. “I’ll give you two sons of bitches five minutes to get up into our bedroom and get your clothes off. For once, I’m gonna be in charge around this house, and then we’ll talk about fucking ‘permission’ later!”
When she opened the door to the garage, Napoleon asked, “Where you going, baby?”
She looked back at him and barked, “You both better be buck-naked by the time I get upstairs. Now get going!”
Napoleon and I headed up to their bedroom, took off our clothes and sat on top of the bed next to each other. Both of our cocks were starting to stir, despite what was happening.
“I told you she was acting weird,” Napoleon said to me. “Why are you leaving your socks on?” Napoleon asked me.
“In case I have to grab my shit and get the hell out of here in a hurry,” I said, grinning. I tugged his dick, and said, “Maybe this is what happens since she hasn’t gotten any from you since she tossed your ass in the garage.”
Cindy appeared at the door and marched in, carrying Napoleon’s Craftsman tool box. She dropped it on the floor and the top busted open. As she hopped around pulling her jeans off, she said to Napoleon, “I’ll bet you thought I didn’t know about that, did you, baby?”
Rubber cock rings, cock sleeves, a bottle of lube and several dildos- including a double- donged number- had fallen out of Napoleon’s tool box.
When she got her jeans off, Cindy told me to get up on my elbows and knees on the bed with my ass pointed at her. She bent over and picked up the bottle of lube from the floor and cracked it open. After getting on the bed beside me, she told me to reach back and spread my cheeks open. I reached over and grabbed a pillow. I laid my head on it, facing the foot of the bed, and reached back and “spread ‘em” as wide as they’d go.
After she squirted some lube down my crack, she put some more on her hands, rubbed them together, and started greasing up my slot. “Why don’t you pick out one of your buddies there, baby,” she told Napoleon, referring to the dongs, “and give it to me. Then go sit your ass down in that chair over there.”
As I looked back, I saw Napoleon squat down and pick out the biggest fuck-wand in the pile and hand it to Cindy. It must’ve been at least a foot long and maybe 6 inches around. “Thanks a lot, buddy,” I thought to myself. As she slapped it in the palm of her hand and greased it up, I could see that at least it was flexible. When I looked back again, I could see that Napoleon had sat down. His dick was so hard that his foreskin barely reached the tip of it while he sat and beat off.
“So you got room in that ass of yours for this monster, baby? Cindy asked Napoleon.
“Not yet,” he said. “I just got it- ain’t ever been used. I just wanted to see how it worked.”
I wasn’t so sure I did, at least not in Cindy’s angry hand.
“Well, I’m sure it’ll work just fine in this ‘100% Grade-A homosexual’ asshole we got here, baby!” Cindy answered.
With that, she slapped me on the ass with it and drove it all the way inside me, twisting it as she went. Instinctively, I let out a grunt. As she pulled it back and forth out of my hole, I vainly tried to clench it with my sphincter to slow her down. Fat chance!
I bet that rubber monster made several dozen trips down “Guy’s Highway”: that is, my chute. Cindy fingered her cunt the whole time she was plunging it inside me. “How’s that working for you, Guy?” she asked.
“I love it, baby,” I lamely replied.
Then she stopped with the damn thing all the way up inside me. Actually, by that point, my rim and insides were pretty loosened up and I was getting used to it- sort of like my “son”, Shark’s fist if only it hadn’t have been introduced to my shitter so all of a sudden.
Cindy ordered Napoleon to come over and hold the dildo in my ass so it wouldn’t squirt out. Then she told me I could let go of my cheeks. As my buns came back together when I let go of them, I felt the palm of Napoleon’s hand, pressing that thing inside me. Cindy poured some lube into his free hand and I heard him waxing his tool with it as Cindy crawled in front of my face.
On her knees, with her trimmed cunt in front of my face, Cindy perched on her spread knees and fingered her twat. “I’m getting kinda wet, Guy,” she told me, “but I wanna be good and sloppy when you fuck me. Why don’t you put your face in my bush and eat my pussy?”
On my elbows, I put my face up in her snatch. As I spread her open and started licking, she put her hand behind my head and pressed me against her.
“You can do better than that, Guy,” she cooed at me. “It’s your first taste of cunt- have fun with it. Maybe pretend it’s my husband’s asshole you’re eating, ok?”
I put my tongue out as far as I could and sank it inside of her. When my spit started coming back at me, I stuck my forefinger as far inside her as I could. I might have been mistaken, but I thought I must have been massaging her clit. She started swiveling her hips and moaning. I looked up at her face and she was starting to turn red as I dived back into her muff. I realized that Napoleon had taken his hand off his own dick and reached underneath me, jerking my stiff boner while holding that dong in my ass.
At first, I thought it was just my spit washing back into my mouth as I serviced her, but then I realized the juice I tasted was coming from inside of her. I couldn’t decide if I liked it or not, only that I was determined to make her leak more.
Cindy started to shudder a little bit, but then she pulled away from my face. She told Napoleon to take the dildo out of my ass and put it in the sink in the adjacent bathroom. She put me on my back with my head against the pillows stacked against the headboard of the bed. She crawled over my waist and guided my hard dick into her cunt.
By the time Napoleon came back into the room, I was fucking his wife. “Cool,” he said, as he sat back down to watch.
I took her breasts in my hands as she rode my cock, and manipulated her nipples with my thumbs. “You like that, Guy?” she said, bending over and staring into my eyes.
“Oh yeah,” I moaned. “Maybe too much,” I told her, feeling my own face and neck turn really warm. “You want me to cum?”
Cindy pulled away from me and sat up beside me against the pillows. She ran her hand over the head of my dick and stuck her fingers in her mouth. “Not yet, Guy!” she said. “Let’s take a break.”
After a few minutes, I said to her, “Cindy, you mind if I step into your backyard and grab a smoke before round two?”
She reached over the bed and picked up my overalls. She pulled out my cigarettes and lighter and put them on the bedside table next to Napoleon’s bottle of lube.
“Napoleon,” she said, “go find something Guy can use as an ashtray.” He got up and went out of the room.
When he came back, he sat an empty tuna can on the bedside table. Cindy had her mouth wrapped around my cock. “Wow,” he whispered, opening my pack of smokes and handing me one. I put the smoke in my mouth and he flipped open my Zippo and lit it for me.
“Thanks, b*o’,” I told him, as he went back to his chair.
I was pretty damn used to getting my cock sucked, so the fear of ejaculating prematurely went away, even as I enjoyed Cindy’s expert work on my joint. I flicked the ash from my smoke and then stuck it back in my mouth to dangle. With both hands, I pulled Cindy’s hair back so Napoleon could get the full view of his wife slobbering on my shaft.
“Wow,” he said again, and then came over next to the bed. He reached down for my cigarettes and asked if he could take one. I looked up and winked at him. I could tell that he was excited by the way he fumbled with the lighter in his greasy hands as he lit up and went to sit back down, beating his meat.
With my smoke burned down to its butt and ashes on my chest, I let go of Cindy’s hair. She looked up as I took it from my mouth and stubbed it out in the tuna can.
“Smoke break over?” she asked, climbing out of the bed. Napoleon came over and crushed his smoke out too. Cindy reached down and picked up Napoleon’s double-donged dildo and the jar of lube on the table. As she walked into the bathroom, she motioned to both of us.
“Back to work, boys,” she said.
We followed her into the bathroom and she pulled back the shower curtain hanging over the tub. She told both of us to get down on our hands and knees in the tub, with our butts facing each other. There wasn’t much space separating us. She squeezed a stream of lube up and down the dual dildo, bent over our asses, and snaked one end in me and the other inside Napoleon.
“Do some fucking, boys,” she said. The two of us backed into each other and then pulled apart, connected by that silicon rod. My ass was already so covered with lube that Napoleon’s cheeks briefly stuck to my cheeks each time we met “in the middle”. “That’s it, boys, only step it up a little,” Cindy instructed us.
Napoleon was really getting into it. “Aw fuck!” he growled every time our ass cheeks bumped together and the dildo was deepest inside us. I reached between my legs each time we came together and grabbed his balls. Each time, I felt his fist clenched at the base of his shaft, jacking his rod.
Then Cindy stepped into the tub, positioning her feet on either side of us with her groin squarely above the dildo penetrating our asses. As we fucked ourselves on the dildo, she let loose a shower of piss over both of us.
Cindy stepped out of the tub, grabbed a bath towel, and wiped her piss off her feet. She grabbed the dildo and abruptly pulled it up and out of our asses. She wiped it off with the same towel, and threw it into the sink with the monster cock she had drilled me with earlier. She opened the faucet in the tub, flipped on the shower, and took down the shower head.
When she was finished rinsing us off, Napoleon and I got up and stepped out of the tub. She flipped us the towel that she had used to wipe off the dildo. She picked up a stick of lipstick from the vanity and headed back into the bedroom.
“It’s time for some real dick now,” she said, “Don’t you two be too long drying off.”
When Napoleon and I got dried off and went back into the bedroom, Cindy was on top of the bed on her knees, rubbing her pussy. She hadn’t wiped herself off, and beads of golden piss still glistened there.
I wondered how many times she came already. If Napoleon was as “wanting” to blow as I was, I knew his nuts were full and aching. It had been at least 2 hours since Cindy started up with us.
Cindy told Napoleon to get on his back on top of the bed. She straddled him, sank his bulging cock in her twat and started to ride him. I got behind her ass. Every time Napoleon’s cock flopped out of her, I grabbed it, licked it off, and put him back inside.
She reached over to the bedside table and picked up her tube of lipstick. She reached back and handed the lipstick to me. While riding Napoleon’s cock, she bent over him and spread her ass wide open. She told me to open the lipstick, roll it out, and paint her asshole with it. I smeared it all over her pink pucker, and inside too.
After I tossed it aside, she reached over and handed me Napoleon’s bottle of lube. “Grease up your cock and my hole,” she barked at me, “and fuck me in my ass.”
As I went to work getting both of us greased up, I asked, “First time up the ass, Cindy?”
Both Cindy and Napoleon answered at the same time, “YES!!!”
Cindy rose up her ass and I got a clear view of Napoleon’s sack between his thighs and his cock penetrating her pussy. It seemed to me that Napoleon’s balls were creeping up in his sack and that he might be close. Cindy had taken to pounding on Napoleon’s chest and putting her fingers in his mouth. I figured I better get busy, or I’d miss this train!
I crawled up behind Cindy on my knees and used one hand to part her cheeks. “I got ‘em, brother,” I heard Napoleon say, as he took either side of her ass and spread her cheeks apart.
I took my greasy cock in one hand and put my dick head against her pucker. With my other hand, I pressed it inside of her, just going beyond her rim.
“FUCK YES!” she hollered.
She was bouncing up and down so hard in Napoleon’s lap that I was afraid I might come out of her. I went ahead and pushed my shaft all the way in and started fucking her ass.
I bent over her back and breathed hard into both of their faces. “Wow!” I whispered.
Napoleon tried to reach his hand back and feel my dick in his wife’s cunt. Cindy grabbed him by the wrists and held his hands above his head. I had a feeling both my buddy and his woman were having the fuck of their lives.
Both of them were in spasms when I pulled out of Cindy’s ass. My dick was covered with the pink lipstick she’d given me before fucking her ass. I crawled on my knees in front of both of their faces. Cindy took my lipstick-covered cock in her hand and put it in her mouth. She took it out, held Napoleon’s head sideways, and stuffed me in his mouth, too. She kept passing my rod back and forth between them. When she wasn’t moaning, Cindy was shouting.
I couldn’t stand it anymore- my dick felt bruised and sore but burned when I let loose a squirt that sailed onto the pillows next to Napoleon’s head. I kept unloading on his face and into his mouth while Cindy kissed him and licked my cream off the shadow on Napoleon’s face.
When Napoleon started to cringe and bare his teeth, I knew he was shooting his load inside Cindy. He closed his eyes, flexed his arms over his shoulders, and grunted while finishing himself off inside her. Finally, both of them collapsed in each other’s arms, spent and kissing.
I crawled over Cindy’s out-stretched body and sucked off Napoleon’s softening shaft.
I took a deep breath, filled my cheeks with air and exhaled. I got up, pulled my t-shirt over my head and put my overalls back on. When I sat down to put my boots back on, I realized my socks were wet from our encounter in the bathtub. I pulled them off and threw them in Napoleon’s face, muttering “Motherfucker,” and grinning. Cindy giggled.
I put my boots on and tied up the laces. I picked up my pack of smokes, stuck one in my mouth and parked the pack in my front bib pocket. I picked up my Zippo and grasped it in my fist and headed toward their bedroom door.
“I’m sure you two have some talking to do,” I said. Your daughter’s gonna be home from school soon, and I plan on heading back to the house after I finish this smoke.”
I looked at Cindy. “I’m burying my Dad on Wednesday. I’ll make sure your husband is home right afterwards. Send him home with me this afternoon, if you can find it in your heart.”
I flicked open my lighter and fired up. Putting the lighter into my pocket, with my smoke clenched in my jaw, I told her, “Otherwise, it was a great fuck, all things considered.”
As I turned around, I jokingly rubbed my sore ass and walked out. I heard Cindy giggle.
When I got outside, I leaned against my truck and anxiously puffed on my smoke. Again and again. “Come on, you motherfucker- walk out that front door!” I thought to myself.
Finally, just as I was about to stomp out my cigarette, hop back in the truck and leave, Napoleon emerged from the house with a stuffed duffel bag.
Flexing his arms and pointing at his shoulders, he exclaimed, “I’m the MAN, brother… I’m the fucking MAN!”
When he jumped into my chest and I wrapped my arms around him, this time I actually did lift him off the ground!
With Napoleon’s lips glued to my unshaven neck as I held him in the air, I saw a yellow school bus turn the corner at the end of the block. I put Napoleon down. The bus came down the street and stopped just in front of my Dad’s truck. The doors opened and a cute little girl bounced down the steps, blonde pig-tails flying behind her precious face.
She hit the pavement running and jumped into Napoleon’s arms as he stooped down waiting for her.
“Daddy!” she hollered as he picked her up in his arms. “You’re home early!” she cried.
He put her down and she turned around and pointed at me. “Who’s that man,” she yelled.
“That’s your Uncle Guy,” he told her. “Don’t you remember Uncle Gabe? That’s Uncle Gabe’s twin brother!”
She ran up and wrapped her arms around my thigh. “I miss Uncle Gabe,” she told me.
Napoleon pulled her back, squatted down and looked into her face. “Uncle Guy is gonna come help me pick up some motorcycles in Austin and San Antonio, ok? Daddy will be home after work the day after tomorrow. Alright?”
“Bring me a teddy bear, Daddy!” she hollered.
Napoleon spanked her lightly on the butt and she skipped up the walk to the front door. As I looked up, I saw Cindy standing in the door waiting to greet her daughter. I waved. Cindy picked up her daughter, went inside and shut the door.
I got in the driver’s seat and Napoleon went around the other side, threw his bag in the back and jumped into the passenger side. I started the engine. “Mind if I light up this cigar?” I asked him, pulling my Monte Cristo from my front pocket.
“Not at all, brother,” Napoleon answered, grinning.
I bit off the end of the cigar and lit up. Before pulling away, I told him, “You don’t have to explain anything to me, buddy. And definitely, nobody needs to know about what just happened, besides us.”
As we drove off, Napoleon told me, “Shit, I’ll bet every girlfriend she knows hears about it inside a week!”
I slammed on the brakes. “What?!?”
“Yeah, man,” he said. “I bet she can’t wait to tell all her girlfriends how she popped your cherry in her pussy, b*o’. And how you painted her hole with pink lipstick and cracked her ass open for the first time, and then both of us sucked off your pecker with her lipstick all over it!”
“Your wife’s sure got an interesting circle of girlfriends,” I told him. “Maybe one of ‘em would want to go a few rounds with the two of you in the sack.”
Napoleon put his fist out and stuck his thumb up, clearly warm to the idea!
“Plus the promise…” he told me.
“What promise?” I asked him.
“She made me promise to stay in your sight at all times, big boy!” he said. “And to come home with enough batter left to make a new baby!”
“Giddy-up!” I shouted as I took my foot off the brake and headed back to the house with a full head of steam.
As soon as we got there, I pulled a couple of cold ones out of the fridge. Napoleon asked me about the boxes and suitcases in the living room. I told him that Buks Nell moved in, at least for awhile, but that he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow sometime.
Beers in hand, we headed upstairs. I went into the bathroom while Napoleon went in my old bedroom and stripped. I took the little brown bottle of poppers out of the medicine cabinet, along with a bottle of lube. I stripped and joined him on my still-unmade old bed. I put the brown bottle on his chest, poured a liberal amount of lube over both of our cocks, and grabbed him as he grabbed me.
“What’s that?” he asked, pointing his chin at the little brown bottle I had laid on his chest.
“Let’s just beat each other’s meat awhile,” I told him, slowly stroking his cock, “and then I’ll show you.”
Pausing only to take swigs of our beers, we hand fucked each other for at least half an hour. Then I laid out flat on my back and took the brown bottle from his chest into my fist. With a pillow and one arm under my head, Napoleon climbed over my crotch until my hard shaft was poking in his crack.. With my other hand, I pointed my dick up at his pucker and Napoleon slowly lowered himself onto it. I penetrated his rim, and I put my hand under his ass, stopping him with me just inside him.
I pulled my fist out from under my pillow, and with my other hand, screwed open the brown bottle I had been holding.
“What is that?” Napoleon asked, teetering with my dick head inside him.
I reached up and put the open bottle under one of his nostrils, and with my thumb, held his other nostril closed. “Inhale, buddy,” I said.
Then I put the bottle in my other hand, squeezed the other nostril closed and told him to do it again.
He looked at me sort of cross-eyed and shook his head. “Wow!” he murmured.
I gave myself hits up both my nostrils, screwed the cap back on and kaynarca escort bayan set it on my chest. I felt Napoleon slide all the way down my rod, then bend over and wrap his arms around my neck, kissing me in every spot he could reach. With my dick tingling, I made thrust after thrust into his warm ass.
“Aw shit, man!” Napoleon groaned. “Man, does your dick feel hot in my ass! I can feel it all, brother!” The poppers had gotten to him.
And me, too. Every time I thrust myself inside of him, it was a dose of pure ecstasy. Every time he bent over and kissed me with my dick in his ass, I locked tongues with him.
I don’t know how long he sat on my dick and we fucked. The poppers wore off every 5 minutes or so, and then our slow pace of fucking would pick up speed for awhile. Then I’d screw the bottle open and give each of us a boost, and we’d melt into each other again.
After the third hit wore off, I rolled him onto his side and lifted his legs in the air while I plowed him. Jerking his cock, he came in his hand, held his fingers up to my mouth and sank them in. I busted my own load in his ass, let his legs down, and crawled behind him. I don’t know about Napoleon, but I was fucking glowing as my hard cock slowly went soft in his warm hole.
By the time I fell out of his ass, Napoleon was asleep. Knowing he had to be to work in the morning and that I was meeting Buks and Nikki at the lawyer’s office, I set the alarm clock for 7 a.m.
As I fell asleep with my chin behind Napoleon’s ear, I thought to myself, “What a fucking day!”
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
I woke up Tuesday morning before the alarm clock had a chance to go off. The confines of my old twin bed meant that Napoleon and I had spent the night sleeping very close together, which was perfect for me. It brought back memories from last July, when we first slept together in this same bed… in these exact same bed covers.
I wished that he didn’t have to go to work today, and that I didn’t have to go downtown and have a meeting with Buks, Nikki and my Dad’s lawyer about my Dad’s estate. I wished that Napoleon’s bike was parked in the driveway and that we could hop aboard it and go back to that picnic table in a warm lemon grove and fuck.
During the night, Napoleon had rolled over to face me. When I woke up, his head was on my chest and his arms were around my neck. For the next half hour, I just laid there with him sleeping on me. When I could linger no longer, I jostled him and he woke up. I pulled the sheets back, and he climbed up over me and kissed me.
“Good morning, b*o’!” he practically chirped.
“You don’t have a headache, do you?” I asked him.
“Nope!” he said. “Good,” I thought to myself; I worried that we might have been overdoing it with the poppers last night.
I smacked him on his fanny and told him to go ahead and shave and brush his teeth. I’d go downstairs, rustle up some coffee and then come back up to shower with him.
Before I went downstairs, I picked up the ashtray on my bedside table that practically overflowed with butts. I took it down to the kitchen and dumped it in the trash… at last. While I heard the water running in the bathroom upstairs, I put on the coffee and stepped outside for a smoke. Soon, I heard Napoleon call down from the bathroom.
“Come on, Guy- get a move on!” he yelled. “I gotta get to work and you’ve got your appointment downtown!”
To say I had mixed emotions as Napoleon and I showered together would have been a major understatement. I don’t think I said much more than 10 words the whole time we washed each other up in the shower. Tonight would be our last night together; I hoped Buks would be there, too. Tomorrow, I’d lay my Dad to rest and return to D.C.
Fortunately, Napoleon was his usual talkative self, and was obviously stoked as he gave practically a play-by-play account of our exploits yesterday.
I brushed my teeth and went back into my old bedroom where Napoleon had almost finished dressing for work. Looking at me standing there naked, he said, “You know what, Guy? That dick of yours looks almost as good soft as it does hard!”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to make sure you see more of it hard than limp,” I cracked.
As he headed downstairs, I told him to help himself to coffee and that I would be right down. I picked up my suit and dress shirt, but they both were kind of ripe-smelling from all the running around I’d done under the hot Laredo sun last Friday. I rolled them up in my duffle bag and set it next to the door so I wouldn’t forget it. Hopefully, I could find dry cleaners that could get them back to me later this evening.
Instead, I fished another clean t-shirt out of my brother’s drawers, put it on, and stepped into the Dickie’s overalls I’d worn over to Napoleon’s house yesterday. I pulled on a pair of my brother’s socks, wondering what Cindy had done with the pee-soaked pair I’d tossed on their bed yesterday. I laced up and tied my boots, and then clambered downstairs to join Napoleon for coffee- or at least my shitty version of it!
Since it was already going on 8 a.m., we dropped our mugs in the sink and hurried outside. I locked up the house, got in the truck and we pulled out of the driveway.
By 8:30, I dropped Napoleon off at the custom bike shop where he worked.
“Can you get off early?” I asked him. “Like 4:30? That way I can pick you up and we can head over to the Am Vets for Dad’s wake.”
“I’ll try, buddy!” he shouted back to me as he trotted off to the shop.
“Do better than try, Napoleon,” I shouted out the window. He waved back at me as he went into work.
I pulled a cigarette out of my front pocket and lit it. I spun the wheel of my Dad’s truck and headed back downtown. I got to the lawyer’s office at 9:00 sharp.
Buks and Nikki stood at the entrance to the office building, waiting for me. Nikki looked statuesque in a tailored navy blue business suit, ruffled cream-colored blouse, black stockings and crocodile heels. She wore a ruby-crusted pin in her lapel shaped like a rose, and a gold link chain around her neck. She held an elegant red leather valise clutched to her side.
“Where’d you find that suit, Buks?” I asked the big man, as he held his arm around Nikki’s waist. Over a crisp white shirt and a plaid red tie, he wore a navy blue, wide pinstripe suit with a pin depicting the flag of South Africa stuck on his jacket’s wide lapel. It made his darkly tanned skin and broad smile seem even more incredibly sexy. With his gold-buckled ostrich belt and shoes, this man was seriously put together! By comparison, I felt like a stray cat that the rain had chased in.
“Howzit, son!” he laughed as he let go of Nikki’s waist and gathered me in his big arms. “I got shit hangin’ in so many closets around town; I can’t even count ‘em. Probably most of those konts’ husbands think my stuff belongs to them!”
When Buks let me go, Nikki came up and kissed me. “You are gorgeous!” I told her.
We went into the building and took the elevator up to my Dad’s lawyer’s floor. His secretary greeted us and led us straight into his office.
He briefly expressed his condolences but quickly turned to business. Nikki opened her valise and immediately began taking notes. Several forms passed back and forth across the lawyer’s desk. His clerk came intermittently to inspect our ID’s and notarize forms, all of which ended up in Nikki’s folder.
Just before Noon, we were done. Mostly in ceremony, Buks, Nikki and the lawyer exchanged business cards. Knuckleheaded me, standing there in my overalls, stood empty-handed when it came to a business card.
When we got back on the street, I felt spontaneously happy. If there were any loose ends, they had been tied together. One by one, I took Nikki and Buks in my tattooed arms and hugged them. Buks pulled a cigar out of the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled the cellophane wrapper off of it.
“It’s the last one I found in your Pop’s desk,” he told me, as he stuck it in my mouth. I took out my Dad’s Navy Zippo from my front pocket and lit it, taking several puffs.
Buks stuck his nose in the air as a cloud of smoke circled my head. Sniffing like a hound on the hunt, he said, “Smells like fokken to me! Feel like some lunch with me and Nikki, son?”
“Buks!” Nikki said in a sweet-angry way after she rapped him on the chin.
Puffing, I twisted the cigar between my lips, wetting it. I knew what Buks was referring to- that we’d go back to the office and fuck like we did last Friday. I really wanted to.
But my brain was racing ahead. To the wake this evening. To my Dad’s funeral tomorrow. To returning to D.C. by the end of the day, tomorrow.
“I’m gonna go pick up Napoleon after he gets off work and head over to Am Vets for the wake this evening,” I told Buks. “Are you coming?” I asked him.
“Oh yeah, son, I’ll be there! So you worked it out with the married bloke, huh?” he asked me.
For the moment, I ignored his question. Instead, I asked Nikki, “Will you be there tonight, Nikki?”
“No,” she said. “I’ll meet you at the Cathedral for your Dad’s service tomorrow.”
I took a long draw on my Dad’s last cigar and exhaled. I wrapped my forearm around Buks’ neck and brought his ear to my mouth. “It would be great to have you in my Dad’s big bed tonight, stud. Will you come home with Napoleon and me tonight?” I whispered.
When I let him go, he stood back up. With a twinkle in his eye and a drop of spit on his lips, he nodded “yes”.
The two of them walked away and I leaned against the railing on the stairs, smoking until I finished my Dad’s last cigar. I felt as horny as I had since I came back to Laredo. As I walked down the street to where I’d parked the pick-up, I stuck my hand under my nuts the whole way. I didn’t care who saw me… or knew about it. I was a man who wanted to do some fucking tonight.
I killed the rest of the afternoon by driving out to my brother, Gabe’s cemetery about an hour and a half away. As I pulled through the gate, I saw the flag waving at half staff. That meant that the loved ones of another hero were paying their final respects.
I parked and found my way to the marble plaque planted flush with the lawn above my brother’s grave. I lit a smoke and paced. Puffy clouds chased each other in the sky above. I crushed out my cigarette in the grass, bent over, and put it in my pocket. I looked up in the sky, as if to tell my brother, “Dad’s gone.”
There was a whisper in my ear, even though I was all by myself.
“I know,” Gabe said in my ear.
I wandered back down the sidewalk and got in the truck. It was 3 o’clock and I had just enough time to get back to Laredo and pick up Napoleon. I wanted to get to the Am Vets post before the wake started at 6, just to say thanks to all the folks involved.
When I pulled into the parking lot at Laredo Choppers, Napoleon was standing out in the parking lot waiting for me. After he got in the truck, he asked me, “We got time to go back to your place so I can shower and change?”
I lifted his arm by his elbow and stuck my nose in his armpit. “Smells good to me, b*o’!” I said and we headed down the road to the Am Vets post.
When we got there, both of us went inside. The bar had been set up and some ladies from the auxiliary were bringing out sandwich trays that they had picked up at the grocery store nearby. I recognized the funeral director I’d met last Friday and walked up to him.
He shook my hand firmly and I introduced him to Napoleon as a friend of the family.
He told me that a group of members had rallied to act as pallbearers tomorrow, including Navy Seaman First Class, Buks Nell.
The crowd started to fill up the hall and about an hour after it started, the wake was in full swing. But still, Buks had yet to show up. Around 8 o’clock, I went to the door and shook hands with the men and their wives as they left. I kissed the cheeks of the men who honored me by telling me that they would be bearing the casket of my Dad tomorrow.
Buks finally pulled into the parking lot as the last of the members filed out. I recognized the truck, but only the shadow of the man as he raced toward me in the dusk. When he came up to me, out of breath, I asked him, “What took you so long, Buks?”
In the spotlight above the door, I finally saw him. Buks was dressed in his Navy blues, his bell-bottomed pants tight around his ass and crotch, his tie around his thick hairy neck, and his starched sailor cap clenched in his hand.
“Fokken shit!” he said. “I went back to your place and it took me forever to dig out my uniform from the stuff I brought over Sunday, then get here!”
Just as they were about to close down the hall, Napoleon wandered out to the porch, and seeing Buks in his blues, whispered, “Cool.”
I had two hot men on my hands, and only a few hours until a funeral in the morning. The words of my Dad just a couple of months earlier echoed in my head. He’d said, “If my son needs a fucking, he’s gonna get it!”
Buks followed me in his truck as we headed back to the house. When we got there, I led Napoleon and Buks upstairs to my Dad’s bedroom and pulled back the covers. Napoleon was naked in an instant and sat down on the bed facing Buks. Buks unbuttoned the placket on his pants and let his dick drop out of it. Napoleon lifted Buks semi-hard cock and took it into his mouth.
I heard Napoleon groan and hungrily gobble down Buks’ tool. I took off my overalls, patted Napoleon on the back of his head, and went downstairs for a smoke. My dick was wagging under my t-shirt as I stepped out on the porch and lit up. Even from upstairs, I could hear the sound of my friend Buks enjoying a hot blow job by my little b*o’ Napoleon!
When I came back into my Dad’s room, I sat next to Napoleon and took Buks’ dick out of Napoleon’s mouth. I didn’t know if the juice dribbling down Napoleon’s chin was pre-cum or spit, or both. I just licked it off him and then I put Buks in my mouth.
Napoleon got on his knees on the floor, took a deep breath and swallowed me.
Buks took both hands and started twisting his nipples. As Napoleon and I worked cock, it sounded like a barnyard full of pigs.
With a big “slurp”, I took Buks out of my mouth. I pulled Napoleon off my shaft and put him on the big bed, spread on his back. I reached over and grabbed the bottle of lube I’d left on my Dad’s night stand, and ran a thick strand into his crack. I quickly lubed my cock, pulled up his legs and put myself inside of him. He took me in without a blink and we started to fuck.
Buks got behind me as I fucked Napoleon and licked my ass. For a long time, he sank his tongue in my slot and fingered me while I fucked Napoleon’s hole.
Buks stretched his hairy chest over me, reaching for the bottle of lube. He stuck his fingers in my slot and lubed me up. While he greased his cock, I took Napoleon’s knees in my arms and pushed them into his chest, so his ass was in the air while I fucked him. I wanted to give Buks the perfect angle to get inside my ass and fuck me, too.
I felt Buks climb over my back and guide his dick into my hole as I fucked Napoleon. Every time he pushed himself inside me, I went deeper into Napoleon’s spread ass.
Man, were we fucking!
“Aw shit,” Napoleon moaned.
“Feel that cock up your ass, son” Buks shouted.
I reached around my back. While he fucked my ass, Buks’ low-hanging hairy balls were slapping against both my ass and Napoleon’s, right where my rod penetrated him.
I was shaking like a son of a bitch, fucking Napoleon and getting fucked by Buks. I let go of Buks’ balls, and reached over to the little brown bottle on my Dad’s bedside table. Even though my hands were shaking, I managed to screw off the top. I held it over my shoulder, and Buks took it from me.
I heard him inhale twice, and groan as he sank his dick inside of me and grab me around my gut. I took two hits myself, held Napoleon’s ass a little higher, and sank my cock deeper in him while he folded his arms around the back of his knees. I pinched one of Napoleon’s nostrils closed and he breathed deeply from the bottle, and then I did him from the other side.
Both Napoleon and my assholes loosened to accept the meat fucking our butts, and both of us cried out as we got stuffed… my shaft drilling Napoleon’s chute, and Buks’ rod stashed inside my quim.
“Aw fuck!” Napoleon cried. “I feel like I have both of your dicks up my ass, fucking me!” His arms had been stretched behind his head, but now he wrapped his muscular biceps around the side of my body and grabbed Buks’ hips. He pulled us all together, making us screw that much tighter.
I was almost dizzy being caught in the middle- stuffing my cock inside Napoleon and Napoleon pulling Buks’ rod deep inside me and trying to hold him in there!
While we thrust back and forth and fucked each other in a hot, foul-mouthed pile of man meat, the idea of taking both of these men’s cranks up my ass popped into my head. Before I took myself out of Napoleon’s ass, I think I got harder than I had ever been in my life.
“Come over here,” I said to Buks, as I took him out of my ass and laid him on his back with his head against a pillow. I also put a pillow under his butt; I wanted to make sure there would be plenty of room for Napoleon to shove his dick inside me once I’d impaled myself on Buks.
I climbed over Buks’ lap, reached behind myself and guided his crank inside my ass. Napoleon crawled behind me, like he was going to watch Buks fuck me.
“Oh no, brother,” I told him. “You put that swollen cock of yours up my slot and fuck me, too!”
I’d never been penetrated by two cocks at the same time. I’m sure the inside of my ass was shaking big time in anticipation. I reached over to the ashtray, pulled my cigar butt out and lit it up.
With my cigar in my jaw and puffing away, I reached back and pulled Napoleon up to my ass. With both hands, I spread my cheeks, exposing Buks’ dick inside me, and told Napoleon, “Put it in, buddy!”
Napoleon grabbed his hard dick and stabbed at my ass over and over again. When he couldn’t get it in over the back of Buks’ thick meat inside me, Buks started to laugh.
Buks threw me over his side, his dick pulling out of me. He tossed Napoleon onto his back with the pillow under him, put my ass over his cock and shoved me down on Napoleon’s shaft. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around Napoleon’s head, so Buks would have a clear shot of him fucking me. Buks screwed his cock into my hole and plunged himself inside me, over the backside of Napoleon’s greasy pecker.
Bucks laughed and fucked me hard, pressing down on my back. I stuck my tongue as far as I could into Napoleon’s mouth as he rocked his hips and fucked me, too.
I’d never taken a ride on dick like this in my life! One went in me, and the other went out. One went out; one went in. Napoleon and Buks were definitely getting off, rubbing their boners together in my love slot. Both of them had their arms wrapped around my shoulders, pinning me between then. All I could do was enjoy the ride, and slide my greasy hard dick back and forth on Napoleon’s firm gut underneath me.
When he could get my tongue out of his mouth, Napoleon shouted at Buks, egging him on. “Come on, Buks!, he yelled. Let’s fuck this man good!”
From behind, I heard Buks grunting and groaning; he was definitely working hard. He let go of my shoulders and started spanking my ass hard with both hands.
My blood was rushing so hard inside, I thought the top of my head was going to blow off. “Holy fuck!” I hollered as my head bounced up and down and I drooled. “Fuck me good!”
Careful not to fall out of me, Buks slowly reached over and snatched the bottle of poppers from the bedside table, screwed off the top and took a sniff. He passed the bottle to me, and I gave Napoleon two hits. I stuck the bottle under each of my nostrils and breathed in deeply, setting the bottle on the table with my shaking hand afterwards.
When I looked back, I saw Buks put his hands behind his head, flexing his muscles. He bit his lower lip and squinted as his face went beet-red. He was ramming my ass really hard now, and when he let loose of his lower lip, he shouted, “Fokken-A!” He grabbed the sides of my ass and kept shoving his dick into me, punctuating every thrust with a grunt.
Napoleon was squirming around underneath me. He pulled me face-to-face with him, and asked me, “You liking that fucking you’re getting, brother?”
“Fuck yes!” I shouted and put my mouth over his again.
Napoleon wrapped his arms around my head with our tongues fighting to get into each other’s mouths. His strokes in my ass were getting jerky and it felt like he was convulsing underneath me.
Napoleon was shooting his load inside me.
As soon as Buks felt Napoleon’s cream in my hole, he let out a “WOO-HOO!” Not long after that, Buks was creaming me, too. Both of them shook while emptying their loads into my hole. When they finished, I sat up as far as I could and pulled hard on my stiff rod.
When I felt their cocks start to soften inside of me, I fell over onto my back. Both of them crawled up to either side of my head on their knees. Buks poured another stream of lube over my shaft as I continued to jerk by boner. I thought I was going to break my neck, going back and forth and taking their sweet, cum-laden dicks in my mouth and sucking them off.
Finally, a long gush of spunk launched out of my piss slit, followed by two more. My gush landed in a river along the strip of hair from my chest to my bush. Shaking my dick with one hand, I scooped up as much cum up as I could, and put in my mouth, too.
While Buks leaned over and took my dick in his mouth, Napoleon bent down and kissed me. I took his still-dripping dick in my hand and pulled his foreskin back and forth. Buks came back up to us. He lifted Napoleon off my face, and with my spunk dripping from his beard, swapped my load back and forth with him.
Napoleon and Buks were breathing hard and sweaty when they collapsed in the bed next to me. I had to shake my head a couple of times, just to make sure I hadn’t been dreaming. I got on my elbow and looked over at the ashtray on the table. My cigar was as spent as the three of us were.
I climbed over Napoleon sprawled on his back and got off the bed. I pulled a smoke out of my overalls and lit it.
“Where are ya’ going, son?” Buks asked as I headed for the door. “Going downstairs for some beers,” I replied. “Is that alright with you fuckers?” I asked.
“Knock yourself out, Guy,” Napoleon answered back, rolling onto his side and facing Buks.
When I returned, the two of them were in each other’s embrace and kissing. I put two bears down on the table, sat on the edge of the bed and took a belt from mine. Napoleon rolled back over and motioned for me to get back in bed. I handed each of them a bottle of beer, snuffed out my smoke and climbed over Buks back until I was in-between them.
As much as we needed to get to sleep, we just kept playing with each other and swapping kisses. When he didn’t have a tongue or limp dick in his mouth, Napoleon enjoyed rambling on about our hot fuck tonight. Napoleon loved to talk about sex, but as he recounted our exploits tonight, I think he was trying to convince himself that it really happened!
Whatever… he made it sound hot.
Before they finished their beers, Buks and Napoleon were asleep. I finished mine and got out of bed as gingerly as I could. I lit a smoke, picked up the bottles and went downstairs. I left the bottles on the kitchen counter and looked at the clock on the wall.
It was almost 2 a.m., and we’d been fucking for almost three hours.
“Shit,” I whispered to myself. “Fuckin’-A!”
I went out to the porch and finished my smoke. When I got upstairs, I set the alarm for 7 a.m. I crawled back into bed with Napoleon and Buks. Both of them had put what seemed like a bucket of spunk up my rump, and plenty of it had dripped out of my ass and onto the back of my legs. It was beginning to dry.
Wednesday, October 17
When the alarm clock went off, Buks and I got out of bed and left Napoleon to sleep in a little longer. Buks had to clean up, put on his Navy blues, and form up with the other pallbearers at the funeral home an hour before my Dad’s funeral service. Before he turned into the bathroom, he grabbed me by the arm and kissed me.
“Last night was fokken fantastic!” he told me, loud enough for Napoleon to hear if he hadn’t drifted back to sleep.
“But was it ‘special’?” I asked while I winked at him. Buks had told me before that he wouldn’t give up his ass unless the man who took it was “special.”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out, son!” he replied.
I went downstairs and put on some coffee and water. I stepped outside for a smoke. When I finished, I came back into the kitchen to check out the water. I sat down and waited for the water to boil, then turned it down and went back up to my Dad’s room. I got on the bed and propped some pillows behind me. Napoleon had rolled over onto his stomach and was fast asleep. I slipped my hand under the covers and rested it on his butt.
I heard Buks come out of the bathroom. He came into the room, and pulled together his uniform. As he started to dress, I went to my Dad’s dresser, pulled out a fresh pair of socks and tossed it to him.
He and I went downstairs and I fixed him some tea. While he drank it, he kept looking at me. I picked up a cigarette and lit it, just to have something to do with my hands.
When he was finished his tea, Buks got up and grabbed his cap. When we got outside, he put his cap on.
“Last night was very fokken special,” he said to me. He grabbed my scruffy chin and kissed me. As he walked to his truck, he turned around and said, “And so are you, son. Very fokken special!”
I went back inside. I woke up Napoleon and we showered. Finally, for the first time in over a week, I shaved my face clean.
By 8:30, we were dressed and finished with our coffee. I grabbed the keys and we went out to the truck.
We arrived downtown at the Cathedral about half an hour before the service. I took my smokes out of my jacket and lit one.
“Mind if I take one?” Napoleon asked. I handed him the one I had just lit and fired up another one for myself.
I asked him, “Am I becoming a bad influence on you, buddy?”
He grinned, took a drag and said, “I hope so! That’s what I like about you… along with a few other things!”
Nikki drove into the lot, and looked spectacular as she got out of her car. She joined Napoleon and me as we finished our smokes and we came around to the front of the Cathedral. The hearse carrying my Dad was already parked at the curb. The pallbearers gathered at the rear of the limousine. Like Buks, two others wore their service uniforms. The others wore suits and their veteran’s service caps.
Nikki, Napoleon and I went into the Cathedral. I wanted them to sit in the front pew with me, but instead, they sat in the pew behind me.
About 30 people were gathered in the church to say “good-bye” to my Dad. Almost all of them were Mexican or Mexican-American laborers and craftsmen who had depended on my Dad’s company to support their families.
The pall bearers brought my Dad’s casket into the church. They held their caps in one hand, and the rail on my Dad’s casket in their other. They took it to a platform in front of the altar. Buks opened it. As the pallbearers filed past me to take their seats, they stopped where I stood, turned and saluted.
When it came time for me to read my prayer, I went over to my Dad’s open casket. I pulled a chain out of my pocket. It held the small golden rings that my brother, Gabe and I received as infants when we were christened. I laid the chain in the folds of the starched white Navy cap under my Dad’s hands.
I kissed him, went to the podium and read “A Sailor’s Prayer.”
After the service, Nikki and Napoleon stood with me on the stairs to the Cathedral as we waited for the pallbearers to emerge with my Dad. After they slid his casket into the back of the hearse, Buks went to the curb-side back door of the limousine. He put his cap back on, opened the door and turned to me. He saluted.
I fished in my pocket for the keys to the truck and handed them to Napoleon. “You know how to get to Calvary Hills, don’t you? Mind driving the truck up there for me?”
“No problem, b*o’,” he said.
I walked down the stairs and over to where Buks stood, holding the door open for me. I got in the car, and he closed the door. The rear door of the hearse slammed shut and my Dad and I pulled away for our last ride together. To the cemetery at Calvary Hills.
At the cemetery, Napoleon and Nikki stood on either side of me. After the pallbearers carried my Dad’s casket to the platform next to his freshly-dug grave, Buks came over and stood next to Nikki. He took off his sailor cap and grasped Nikki’s hand.
After the rite of committal, the four of us gathered in the parking lot. I pulled out a smoke and lit it up.
For some reason, all of us were looking down at our shoes. I stepped up to Nikki and lifted her face with my hand under her chin. She was crying. I kissed the tears from both of her cheeks and smiled at her.
“Are you okay, Nikki?” I asked her.
“I’m fine, Guy,” she said. “I’ll see you when I see you, Guy,” she said as she walked to her car and drove away.
“I’ll hitch a ride back to the funeral home,” Buks told me. “I’ll get my truck and meet ya’ back at the house. I’ll drive ya’ up to the airport.” He pulled my face together with Napoleons, rubbed his knuckles on our heads, and kissed both of us under our jaws.
Napoleon took the keys to my Dad’s truck out of his pocket and tossed them to me. We got in the truck and I pulled out of the cemetery headed for his house. When we got there, he got out of the truck and took his duffel bag out of the back. He came around to the driver’s side window, stuck his head in and kissed me.
“Have a safe trip home, stud!” he told me before turning around and walking up to his front door.
I lit a cigarette and wondered if he would turn around and wave “good-bye” to me before he reached the door.
I headed back to the house, changed my clothes, and tossed my Dad’s keys to Buks, who was waiting there for me.
After Buks dropped me off at the airport, I felt like Dorothy at the end of “The Wizard of Oz”: I’d just said good-bye to three men who had become important in my life. Only instead of the Scarecrow, the Cowardly Lion and the Tin Man, it was my Dad, Napoleon and Buks.
As I rushed to the gate for my flight back home to D.C., I almost felt like Dorothy as she clicked her ruby red slippers together and repeatedly chanted, “There’s no place like home!”
“But where is home?” I wondered to myself.
To be continued…
February 23, 20012
(Any resemblance of the characters in this story to persons living or dead is…well… purely INTENTIONAL! Thanks, Napoleon and Buks… and of course, my Dad! G.M.)
If you want to meet Napoleon and Buks, here are links to their x-hamster pages:
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