Coming of Age


By Also_KnownAs

I knew nothing about him, or the place he'd come from. I was beginning to understand that the place must have been some sort of weird cult that thought incest and open love and God knew what else was perfectly fine. Now, I considered myself an open-minded person and, to be perfectly truthful, the thought of a couple of hunky blonde brothers getting it on was one of my biggest fantasies. But fantasies are fantasies and this… this was something else.

He was my nephew. Now, it wasn't like I helped raise him or watched him grow up or anything. We were strangers in every sense of the word. So, was this feeling that it would be wrong for me to act on his advances something that society was foisting on me? Was I worried what everyone else might think? We weren't going to have any kids to worry about, that was for sure, and fuckin' A if he wasn't the hottest, hunkiest, most beautiful and muscular teen I had ever seen in real life or in my dreams, so…

And he was definitely into it, but at 16, does he even have the emotional maturity to know what he's doing? Can I take advantage of him like that? Is it taking advantage if he's doing all the coming on and I'm doing all the retreating? Who, really, was taking advantage of whom, here?

I heard something from the bathroom, a soft noise, that I knew intimately and it drew my attention like honey for the bees. Joe was moaning, more than that, Joe was saying something that sounded very much like "Oh, oh God, fuck, oh yeah."

I told myself I was not going to go look. But when I did glance down the hall, I saw that it was filled with steam. I hadn't closed the bathroom door behind me. It was wide open. No wonder I could hear everything he was saying!

I walked slowly toward the bathroom, his moans and obviously pleasurable enunciations becoming more distinct. His voice dropped an octive and was amplified in the small, glass-walled space. I paused just as I saw a flash of skin. His eyes were closed and his mouth hung open. He licked his lips and said, "Jesus, oh Fuck, oh Fuck me," and it echoed deeply, reaching out to me. His skin was smooth and glassy and his muscles were stretched tight across his chest, revealing every inch of power mounted there, but what drew my attention even from that impressive sight was the fact that Joe had one leg propped against the shower wall. More than that, it was extended up, straight up, so that he balanced on one foot, the other now above his head, as if doing the splits vertically. He'd discovered that the showerhead came lose from the holder and could be moved wherever you were feeling dirty, and at the moment he was apparently feeling very dirty in his ass.

He was pointing the shower-massage at his ass as he stroked himself. I couldn't fucking believe it. His cock, 9 inches long at least, maybe more since half of it was hidden, was red and fat and he was stroking it fast and hard as he directed the unending stream of pulsating hot water directly at his open, rosy asshole.

He opened his eyes and saw me and smiled. "So good," he said. "Fuck me, this feels so fucking good."

What could I do? I nodded in agreement and calmly closed the door.

I stood there in shock, yet again, for a moment, or maybe a minute, as the sounds of his pleasure grew in volume and vehemence until, apparently, he reached orgasm and let out a shout of such deep satisfaction and sexual power that I think the walls shook.

I went back to the living room again to try to collect myself. But all I could think of, the only thing flashing across my vision, was an image of my 6 foot 4 inch 250 pound nephew standing in my shower with one leg propped over his head as he beat off and fucked himself with a pulsating showerhead.

I was rubbing my crotch, and the wet spot on my jeans, when I heard the bathroom door open and a voice spoke behind me.

"Thinking about me?" He voice awakened me from my reveries and I turned around to look at him standing in the bathroom's doorway. He was still naked, gloriously so, his skin wet and slick. Steam was swimming around him so that he looked like a God emerging from the clouds into my living room. Droplets glistened on his pubes and his thick, wavy hair hung about his face and shoulders. He was breathing slowly and deeply, his muscled chest rising and falling, his six-pack expanding and contracting.

I tried the approach of just ignoring what I had seen and we had shared. "Of course. You're sort of hard to forget about." I turned fully, shoving my hands in my pockets. "You're dripping on my carpet."

"Is that my opening to say something like, `you make me wet?'"

"You're not very subtle, are you?"

He shook his head. "Why should I be?" He walked toward me, his hips swaying and his heavy cock still plump and half-erect, swinging like a pendulum and set his palm on my chest. I had to look up slightly to see this 16-year-old's eyes. "Don't you want me? To be with me? But you feel like you can't. Because my mom was your sister."

Well, that was a cold shower. "Yes. And you're only 16. Although I have to keep reminding myself of that."

"It's just an age. I bet I have more experience than you do, Uncle. Back home, we didn't share prejudices about what was right or wrong. We did what we wanted to do, if it felt good, and we didn't hurt anyone." He moved closed still, so our bodies were touching. "If you're worried, I won't tell anyone. No one else has to know. Just you and me."

I told myself to be strong, that it would be wrong no matter what this beautiful young man was whispering, no matter how badly I wanted this. Without answering, I turned and left him standing there. But I heard him following me and I could feel him behind me – then very literally when he grabbed my ass.

"Joseph, don't."

He smiled. "Mind if I get off again before we go?" He reached down and pulled on his fat joint, squeezing the shaft hard and pulling the thing longer still until the helmet swelled like a balloon.

"But," I said, ignoring my own rule, "you just did."

He smiled. "I got a load and a half in my balls and if I don't pump another wad I'm gonna bust." He grinned as he pumped his cock to full mast and I watched amazed as that huge tool got even longer and thicker, standing up straight and proud as he stroked himself. "Oh, man, yeah. That's good." He closed his eyes and used his other hand to pinch his nipple. A fat drop of precum swelled from the eye of his dick and he lubed up his joint.

Now it was my turn. "Jesus Christ!"

He opened his eyes and stopped stroking. "What?"

"You're already hard? Again?"

He laughed slightly and got back to business. "Oh, fuck yeah, Jerry. Don't you remember being my age? I'm constantly horny."

I didn't notice that he dropped calling me Uncle, but I suppose given my surprise that was natural – since nothing else I'd seen so far was. "I remember that part, but I don't remember coming twice in a row quite so soon after…"

"My record is eight. Wanna see if we can beat it?" He actually winked at me as he walked over, towering over me as his strokes slowed. He rubbed his thumb through his precum, more was already being delivered, and slicked up the helmet. He sucked the rest off his thumb and went back to stroking. "Give me a hand, Jerry. I need you."

Joe, I…"

"C'mon, Uncle Jerry, I won't tell. Just touch me. That's all. Just a touch."

I looked down at his prodigious tool. Precum glazed the head and was running down the shaft. His balls visibly shifted, hanging very low in their sack. He moved his grip down to allow my hand – or maybe both hands – space to fondle him.

He was so fucking hot! And I mean that literally. His cock was on fire! And fucking firm. I moved my grip down his slick cock and felt it swell. "More, Jerry. C'mon, I need to cum. I got a load I can't keep, I have to cum." His eyes met mine and I could see his need in them. I wanted to kiss his mouth, wanted to very badly, but instead I moved my hand down his cock and then back up, gripping him tightly. My hand rubbed the lip of his helmet and he seemed to shake slightly, but I withdrew my hand thinking this just wasn't right, I should be doing this.

He opened his eyes and met my gaze. "You know what they say about dogs?"


"Why a dog licks its own balls?" He parted from me and went into the living room, turned around and sat on his haunches, heels to ass, looking up at me, grinning with that big, fat cock like a flagpole between his legs.

"Because he can?"

His grin opened into a smile and he started moving, reaching his arms out and repositioning himself onto his back. He lifted his legs easily into the air and started to bend them back, demonstrating his flexibility and muscular control again. And I realized what he was proposing to do, and I felt my mouth drop open as that marvelous and monstrous cock crept closer and closer to his mouth.

His tight belly seemed to collapse in on itself and he dropped the dangling, ponderous plum of his dick's head toward his lips. Slowly, his tongue slipped from his mouth and gently licked the tip of his own prick.

It dropped lower still, his muscular form curling, and his kissed his cockhead with reverence and love. He made a slight, soft sucking noise and I watched his helmet disappear inside his mouth.

"Fuck," I whispered. He smiled, and pulled himself in further. Veins were popping along the shaft as blood poured into his erection, and I realized that he hadn't been fully erect before.

Its sheer size as it grew shoved it further inside his mouth. His fingers were rubbing the lips of his asshole as he fellated himself. Buddy, I realized, seemed as mesmerized as I was. He stood next to me with the ball in his mouth watching his new friend suck himself off.

I looked at Joe's face and he was looking at mine. He allowed his cock to pop from his mouth and a slick of precum was smeared on his lips when he said, his fingers spreading his hole open, "Fuck me. Fuck me while I suck myself. Stick your hard dick inside my hot, wet hole and fill me up with your load." Jesus. Jesus. What had this kid been doing all this time? Where was this commune – and how could I join it? "Come on and fuck me. I need it. I need you. Now." He sucked his hardness back into his mouth, his cheeks collapsing and his eyes rolling into his head with complete sexual gratification.

My dick was so hard it hurt. His hole seemed to open to me, even there his muscular control was ultimate. He was fingering himself, plunging in three, then four fingers. As I said, this kid was far from subtle. So far he'd stripped for me, propositioned me at the shower and now he was sucking his own dick with his sweet, hot bubble butt presented open and waiting for my hard, fat cock to feed him.

I started to unzip before I even knew what I was doing. My dick was hotly throbbing and I reached inside and pulled it out. It was huge and hard and a drop of clear honey appeared at the tip. He heard my actions and opened his eyes, not releasing himself from his mouth, and moaned deeply as he eyed my ample tool.

I pushed my jeans off my hips and moved toward him, dropping to my knees and sticking my tongue in his pulsating shower-cleaned hole. He was sweet inside, and warm and I was drooling and licking and tonguing his amazing ass like it was my last meal. I felt his moans against my face as I dug in deep and when I could no longer wait, when I thought I was going to cum at any second, I straightened and started moving the head of my prick against his hole. He was hot and ready, and I spit a wad into my palm and slicked myself up. I could smell him, his personal deep funk of sweat and sex wafting from him like cologne. I leaned over him, against his legs, and moved inside.

He pulled me in. He was tight and fine and hotter than hell, and I closed my eyes and rode his ass as he sucked his own monster dick.

He was bucking against me and I thrust harder and deeper and felt my load close to delivery. A shining pleasure erupted all through me as I came inside him, and I opened my eyes to watch his mouth spilling his own cream from the corners as he pumped into his own mouth.

We came together, watching each other, and I had never experienced an orgasm that powerful and full before. I filled him with cum and it came out his sweet hole and dripped down his ass, so I bent and licked it up, cleaning his butt of my seed and swallowing my own salty cream greedily.

I fell back, collapsing on the carpet, breathing heavy and heard him slurping and swallowing his second load in 10 minutes and felt dazed and giddy and dirty and remembered, fuck! No condom! And then, fuck! My nephew! I just fucked my nephew! And finally, fuck! I just fucked my 16-year-old nephew!

I would have started crying except that Joseph chose that moment to apply his lips to mine and push his tongue inside my mouth and fill it with the sweet cream of his own load. I nearly choked but managed to swallow it when I noticed a sort of wet, slick sound and felt a weight on my legs and looked up to see his behemoth muscular form straddling mine, his cum-socked dick in his hand, still hard, and he was steadily jerking himself off to what I was sure would be orgasm number three.

"Mind if I give you a shower to repay the one you were kind enough to offer me?" He grinned and started breathing in quick bursts and I knew he was already close. The man could cum on command, apparently, and load number three was about to be delivered all over my hairy chest.

Before I could say "Wait!" or "Stop!" or "Yes, please!" his body tensed, throwing his muscular form into sharp relief, and a fat, thick, hot volley of cream shot from his enormous cock across my face and chest. Another, just as full and just as powerful, followed quickly and his aim improved, hitting me square in the chest. I was licking my lips of his hot cream and he said, "Hungry?" and shot another fat load at my mouth. I opened my lips and was rewarded with another creamy load, his fourth shoot of his third orgasm was as full as his first. I moaned and I think I even laughed as I felt another sudden flash of wet heat on my tits.

He stroked himself until he'd covered me in cum. Drenched me, in fact. No one had that much cum in his balls from his third time, let alone his first. Then he laid that amazing and powerful form down across mine and I felt his lips on my own again and this time our kiss had no pause or awkwardness or embarrassment, we kissed deep and true, and like everything else about him, Joseph was an excellent kisser.

Now we were both painted with his wealth of salty cream and he slid against me, rubbing his dick on mine and thoroughly enjoying the situation he was now completely in control of. "Fuck, Joe, that was…"

He kissed me. "Shut up, Jerry. And fucking kiss me."

I did.

We made out like boys who had just discovered sex. His hands were as talented as his cum was copious. His mouth and tongue found every sensitive area on my body and I learned that, given the right stimulation, I could cum twice in a row, too. Just not quite as fully as Joe. And for the record, before we were done, he came again, this time in my mouth as I sucked as much of his fat dick as I could manage.

"Five!" he said proudly. "Only four more to go. Ready for a shower?"

I looked down at my cum-coated skin and said, hopefully, "Another one?"

He laughed and got to his feet, offering me his hand. "No, a real shower. I have something I want to show you."

"If you mean the Waterpic enema trick, I already…"

"No, Jerry. Something even better."

"Even better than sucking your own dick?"

He nodded, "Even better than that."

"Mind if I ask you a question first?"

We were eye to eye, and he kissed me and said, "Of course not."

"You're not like any 16-year-old I've ever met. And I'm not just talking about how you look, I mean everything. How you fuck, how you cum, how entirely comfortable you are with this situation. What did they teach you up at that commune – and what the hell did they feed you?" I was squeezing his baseball bicep as I said this, and he flexed it, swelling it to enormity with obvious pride.

"What they taught me was that sex is good. Sex is something to share and have without boundaries or expectations. They warned me that it would be different here, that there are prejudices against sex, that people hoard it or refuse to share it except in special and certain circumstances, but they also said that I shouldn't accept those rules, that they're wrong, that there is nothing wrong with sharing pleasure and yourself with another human, or with many. They taught me how to enjoy sex, and how to allow others to enjoy sex with me. And how to tell what others will enjoy, and how to gain enjoyment through that. They began teaching me sex when I was nine, and initiated me when I was 12. I have been having sex with others – many other – for four years. I would estimate that I have had close to 500 sexual partners in that time and that I have learned how to make my body do what is most pleasurable.

"As to what they fed me, it's funny you should ask." He retrieved his bag (and I watched his ass and wanted it all over again) and unzipped it and pulled out a plastic bag. "This was what I wanted to show you, Jerry." He opened my hand and poured something small and shiveled and black into it.


Joe grinned. He raised his arm again and made a muscle. He stroked his broad chest and pinched his nipple and looked down, and I followed his gaze and watched his dick inflate in second again to erection, pulsing and throbbing and rising until it stood fully at attention, and moments later a drop of precum swelled at the tip and suddenly it was flowing out like honey. As I continued to watch in amazement, his dick, without either of us touching it, and without any other sort of obvious external stimulation, grew suddenly red, swelled visibly, extended from his groin and shot a thick volley of cum so full and powerful that it struck the ceiling 12 feet over our heads. I looked at his perfect face, he smiled and nodded at his upright cock and it happened again, exactly as before, leaving a dripping puddle of his cream above us. "It's a little bit more than shrooms." And he grabbed his huge cock by the base, barely able to wrap his hand around the girth, and smiled as he shot another load from his balls – this one practically cracking the plaster. "Well, a lot more, I guess." He shot again.

And again.

And again.

"Eight times?" I asked.

He laughed. "Hmm, more like eighteen, but I didn't want to scare you." •

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