monshanjik
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TAIL SPIN
By Joe Fuoco
(Honcho.Aug.1985.)
Looking back, it's hard to believe that once I had only a passing
interest in my cousin Robert. Very hard to believe considering the chain
of events that have since led to an obsession.
It's not that I never noticed Robert's obvious attributes: blue eyes,
blond hair, a sly look, a fantastic physique, and the most promising
crotch. But he had always been just cousin Robert. That is, until he
plowed into the ocean with his motorcycle and I had the chance to see
him in a different way.
Robert, always a devil on wheels, defied nature, the elements, and even
fate. One summer night he decided to ride his Harley-Davidson on the
beach. In a gesture of real ballsiness, he aimed his bike right for the
sea. The force of the machine colliding with the crashing waves sent my
cousin flying. He broke a leg in two places and was hospitalized within
the hour. He lay there for days: bored, impatient, and increasingly
horny. Robert was one of the horniest people who ever lived! What a
great time for me to enter the picture.
When I saw him in the hospital he looked absolutely defeated. His left
hand was under his head, and he propped himself up a bit when I entered
the room. There were no other visitors and a curtain concealed Robert
from the patient in the next bed.
"Hey, pal!" That's his typical greeting. His right hand shot out and I
took it. He shook it hard before releasing the grip. I also took notice
of the mound where his crotch rested. The outline of his hips and thighs
was clear; and I was tempted to touch, but held back.
"Dumb fuckin' thing to do," Robert said.
"Yes, it was," I said.
"Rode into the fuckin' ocean."
"Why?"
"For the feelin'! Had to have it."
He moved his left leg which, miraculously, wasn't injured. I could now
see the full shape of his dick and the delicious roundness of his balls.
I sat on the edge of the bed and my side touched Robert's thigh.
Something electric ran through my body; I trembled.
"What's the matter?" Robert asked.
"Nothing," I said. "Uh — where's the Harley?"
"They're fixin' it. It'll be okay. Everything's okay except my hard
ons." I was stunned. He said it so matter of factly.
"What hard ons?" I asked.
"The ones I have all day long. It kills me when those lights go out. It
gets rock hard, and here I am with nothin' to fuck."
He was rougher than I had ever imagined him to be. Strangely, it made
him more appealing than ever.
"Look at this bandage," he said as he ripped the cover off him. His
upper left leg and the area just below the knee were bandaged. I wasn't
looking at his leg; my eyes drifted toward his groin. His dick was big,
thick, and very red at the tip. His balls looked swollen — I later
discovered they were always that size, just about a palm-full. The
hospital gown was pulled above his navel; I saw little ringlets of
golden pubic hair that practically hid his belly button. Robert had one
of the most beautiful bodies I had ever seen. I could feel the heat
coming from him, and it was burning into my body. I pressed myself
closer to him, and gently touched his leg with my fingers. I pressed
where the highest break had occurred.
"Hurt there?" I asked.
"No, that feels good. Keep rubbing."
I gently massaged his leg. I slowly moved my fingers down to the other
break just below the knee. Robert squirmed a little.
"That's my hot spot," he laughed.
"Hot spot?"
"Yeah, the hottest. Just around the knee. I love to have my knee sucked.
I can't wait to get out of here."
I playfully put my mouth over Robert's knee. I licked it, and moved my
tongue rapidly. He nearly jumped out of the bed.
"Is that what you mean?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't guess I was serious
about making it with him.
"Oh, Christ, if you only knew what that does to me," he said. His voice
cried out for more, and he had that glistening look in his eyes; my 21
year old cousin was practically begging for more, and I was going to
give it to him.
I drew the curtain around his bed and dimmed the light to conceal our
shadows. Robert spread his legs further apart and raised the hospital
gown above his chest. He was definitely ready. I placed my mouth over
his knee, and sucked his kneecap. His dick hardened and the head was
throbbing. He reached down and caressed his balls. I gently removed his
hand, substituted my own, and rolled his balls gently. I blew a steady
stream of air over them and watched the hairs quiver. I put the tip of
my tongue on one of the balls; Robert moaned so loudly that I
instinctively covered his mouth with my hand. He laughed softly and
promised to control himself.
Now I did what I had dreamed of doing — what I must have secretly
yearned to do for years. I took Robert's balls into my mouth and sucked
them until the little tight valleys of flesh softened and became warm
and moist. I inhaled his skin and touched his swollen dick.
So this was the weapon, the great tool with which he had opened so many
willing victims. I licked its tip, tasted it, the little shiny and
sticky substance so sweet on my tongue. Then I placed my mouth over the
dick and took it into my throat. I felt it touch the back of my gullet,
and I allowed it to slide in and out. Robert was doing the fucking and
enjoying it immensely! The hot juice gushed into me, and I felt my mouth
swell with his
. It had the scent of coconut, the taste of sweet
chunks of fresh coconut. I drew the last drop out of him and his body
tightened, all wired and tense, until he collapsed with a final moan. He
didn't care who heard him. I wiped his dick and pressed the sheet
lightly to his balls. His face was flushed, damp to the touch, and he
looked drained.
He was also a little too grateful. He gave the impression that he had
just received the finest gift imaginable. I left without saying a word,
with only the sweet, fresh taste and the strong scent of Robert as my
companion.
I wondered if our session would be one of those isolated things never to
be repeated. Would Robert ever acknowledge that anything had happened,
or would he be overcome by shame and guilt?
All my fears and wonderings were cleared up the next day. Robert was
waiting, the curtain already drawn three quarters of the way around his
bed. He was propped up with the sheet raised to his belly. He had
removed the hospital gown and his wonderful chest heaved with
anticipation; he was ready. With a gentle tug, he took my hand and
pressed it to the bulge of his crotch. He moved my hand back and forth
until I felt the delightful hardness of his dick and the tightness of
those great balls. He threw the sheet off with a dramatic flair; his
cock stood on its own strength. It reared and seemed ready to challenge
me. I accepted it grandly! Robert had timed the appearances of the
nurses with their thermometers, little paper cups, and pills so we
wouldn't be disturbed. He also eliminated all afternoon visits from
anyone in the family. He virtually prepared the place for us.
When I returned the following day I noticed that the patient in the bed
next to Robert was gone. I was assured the man did not die, but whatever
was wrong had healed. On our third day together Robert obviously wanted
something different. He was on his stomach; by some inventive
manipulation he had managed to get on his belly without disturbing the
broken leg. With his arms outstretched, he looked more vulnerable than
ever. He asked me to stroke his back and then his buns; I spread his
cheeks wide and stuck my finger up his ass.
I felt his body jerk, heard his moans, and saw his butt rise. I pressed
my lips to taste the sweet skin of Robert's buns, and I licked the
saltiness of those great golden-white mounds. He gasped for more, and I
inserted another finger into his asshole, spreading it, feeling it
expand. I opened him as wide as possible and gently tongued his anus,
lightly licking the matted hairs. Robert nearly fell off the bed.
Victory! I had anticipated it. It bolstered my belief that most
straights, once aroused, want the final, complete penetration; my cousin
was no exception. His buns remained high and they moved with a will of
their own. It had been a long time since I had fucked a virgin; I was
going to enjoy this. Robert's asshole was hot and tight; it seemed to
grab at my dick, wrap itself around it, pull my cock in without letting
go, and hold just tight enough so that it couldn't slip out. Robert
seemed made for fucking, built for it. His buns were all muscle.
"I want to feel it shoot in me. I never felt like this before," Robert
screamed.
When I shot I gave him the full thrust of my dick, reaching the deepest
part of him. He gasped, moaned, and then whimpered deliciously.
I stroked his neck, kissed his ear and inhaled the wheat scent of his
golden hair. He seemed relieved, and so wonderfully rested. He had shot
a load of sperm on the bed, and his belly was coated with.
He loved the fuck I had just thrown him. All the time he had spent
indiscriminately fucking the world was a cover; he really wanted the
world to fuck him. Well I wasn't the world, but it was a fuck; one to be
repeated, on a daily basis. Robert and I had the luxury of this hospital
room privacy for several more days. We enjoyed each other, and invented
new games like " the doctor's examination."
Robert had secured a thermometer — still in its little container of
alcohol. He wanted me to pretend to take his temperature. What he really
wanted was an object in his ass, something different, something other
than fingers and a dick. So we played doctor!
I pretended he had a high temperature, and the only thing that would
bring it down was a good fuck and then I applied the remedy. We
pretended the solution to nameless, ambiguous illnesses was a long, hot
suck which led to a miraculous orgasm relieving all illness and
discomfort.
For five days my cousin and I played our games in the little room. The
one thing Robert wanted to do seemed impossible. He wanted to fuck me,
but he couldn't manipulate his body. I provided the solution. The two of
us stripped, and I placed myself between his legs. I raised my buns and
sat on his red-tipped erection. Slowly I eased down, feeling his dick
part my asscheeks. I had never felt so filled, so swollen. I rode Robert
until he exploded. I bent over him, letting the tip of my tongue touch
his. The fire and wildness of that moment blocked out everything, even
the scream of the nurse who had suddenly entered the room and thrown
back the curtain; Robert was released from the hospital the next day.
A throng of anxious young women escorted him home, and they did
everything Robert asked. It was over, I thought. Those wonderful
afternoons in the hospital room would be only memories. Robert was home
and that meant an endless procession of cunt. I was inwardly furious,
but outwardly smiling. I remember the pain of standing in Robert's
bedroom, leaning inconspicuously against the wall, and recalling those
afternoons. Would it ever happen again? I watched the girls, their eyes
darting hungrily over my cousin's body. No, I would never have him
again.
Just when I expected to be placed in a private, quiet pocket of my
cousin's memory, he called. We got together. I asked no questions.
Robert, still hobbling, managed to get himself on his motorcycle. He
insisted that I ride with him. It had been years, but I took a chance. I
was not about to let this go.
"What do I hold onto?" I asked.
"My dick," he said. "You just hold on to that cock for dear life!"
So I grabbed his meat and we enjoyed the warmth of an early afternoon
ride. We rode to the beach, the scene of Robert's accident. We drove on
the hard packed sand and felt the spray of ocean.
Later that afternoon we discovered a private dune, and its high, sharp
grasses provided a blind. We stripped and spent the day fucking, sucking
and licking each other. Robert truly craved me. Everything else had been
a pose, a pretense, made necessary by the role playing that he felt was
expected. Now he didn't care. He had felt the wonderful, sweeping
pleasures of dick up his ass and wanted more.
We rode off bareassed, holding each other and laughing. We rode into the
ocean as well, but were careful not to be reckless. We rode as lovers,
as cousins who had experienced the greatest blood-thrill possible.
"Incest is best," he shouted at the top of his lungs, and the beach and
the breakers seemed to echo the cliché.
"Kissin' cousins," I said.
It was the greatest summer possible. We made love in the dunes, wrapped
ourselves in seaweed, licked the salt from each other's bodies and, at
least once each week, we tested our bravery by riding into the ocean.
Nothing much has changed. Robert and I have been making it for many
years, but the memory of that summer is something special. The sight and
scent of that golden young man; his proud ass raised, demanding that I
enter it; my dick throbbing and exploding deep into his hot body; the
tongues meeting and the saliva mixing — all remind me that Robert and I
were more than just "kissing cousins." Fucking considerably more!
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
Thanks to original poster in Yahoo! gaymagazinefiction group!
Enjoy!
By Joe Fuoco
(Honcho.Aug.1985.)
Looking back, it's hard to believe that once I had only a passing
interest in my cousin Robert. Very hard to believe considering the chain
of events that have since led to an obsession.
It's not that I never noticed Robert's obvious attributes: blue eyes,
blond hair, a sly look, a fantastic physique, and the most promising
crotch. But he had always been just cousin Robert. That is, until he
plowed into the ocean with his motorcycle and I had the chance to see
him in a different way.
Robert, always a devil on wheels, defied nature, the elements, and even
fate. One summer night he decided to ride his Harley-Davidson on the
beach. In a gesture of real ballsiness, he aimed his bike right for the
sea. The force of the machine colliding with the crashing waves sent my
cousin flying. He broke a leg in two places and was hospitalized within
the hour. He lay there for days: bored, impatient, and increasingly
horny. Robert was one of the horniest people who ever lived! What a
great time for me to enter the picture.
When I saw him in the hospital he looked absolutely defeated. His left
hand was under his head, and he propped himself up a bit when I entered
the room. There were no other visitors and a curtain concealed Robert
from the patient in the next bed.
"Hey, pal!" That's his typical greeting. His right hand shot out and I
took it. He shook it hard before releasing the grip. I also took notice
of the mound where his crotch rested. The outline of his hips and thighs
was clear; and I was tempted to touch, but held back.
"Dumb fuckin' thing to do," Robert said.
"Yes, it was," I said.
"Rode into the fuckin' ocean."
"Why?"
"For the feelin'! Had to have it."
He moved his left leg which, miraculously, wasn't injured. I could now
see the full shape of his dick and the delicious roundness of his balls.
I sat on the edge of the bed and my side touched Robert's thigh.
Something electric ran through my body; I trembled.
"What's the matter?" Robert asked.
"Nothing," I said. "Uh — where's the Harley?"
"They're fixin' it. It'll be okay. Everything's okay except my hard
ons." I was stunned. He said it so matter of factly.
"What hard ons?" I asked.
"The ones I have all day long. It kills me when those lights go out. It
gets rock hard, and here I am with nothin' to fuck."
He was rougher than I had ever imagined him to be. Strangely, it made
him more appealing than ever.
"Look at this bandage," he said as he ripped the cover off him. His
upper left leg and the area just below the knee were bandaged. I wasn't
looking at his leg; my eyes drifted toward his groin. His dick was big,
thick, and very red at the tip. His balls looked swollen — I later
discovered they were always that size, just about a palm-full. The
hospital gown was pulled above his navel; I saw little ringlets of
golden pubic hair that practically hid his belly button. Robert had one
of the most beautiful bodies I had ever seen. I could feel the heat
coming from him, and it was burning into my body. I pressed myself
closer to him, and gently touched his leg with my fingers. I pressed
where the highest break had occurred.
"Hurt there?" I asked.
"No, that feels good. Keep rubbing."
I gently massaged his leg. I slowly moved my fingers down to the other
break just below the knee. Robert squirmed a little.
"That's my hot spot," he laughed.
"Hot spot?"
"Yeah, the hottest. Just around the knee. I love to have my knee sucked.
I can't wait to get out of here."
I playfully put my mouth over Robert's knee. I licked it, and moved my
tongue rapidly. He nearly jumped out of the bed.
"Is that what you mean?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't guess I was serious
about making it with him.
"Oh, Christ, if you only knew what that does to me," he said. His voice
cried out for more, and he had that glistening look in his eyes; my 21
year old cousin was practically begging for more, and I was going to
give it to him.
I drew the curtain around his bed and dimmed the light to conceal our
shadows. Robert spread his legs further apart and raised the hospital
gown above his chest. He was definitely ready. I placed my mouth over
his knee, and sucked his kneecap. His dick hardened and the head was
throbbing. He reached down and caressed his balls. I gently removed his
hand, substituted my own, and rolled his balls gently. I blew a steady
stream of air over them and watched the hairs quiver. I put the tip of
my tongue on one of the balls; Robert moaned so loudly that I
instinctively covered his mouth with my hand. He laughed softly and
promised to control himself.
Now I did what I had dreamed of doing — what I must have secretly
yearned to do for years. I took Robert's balls into my mouth and sucked
them until the little tight valleys of flesh softened and became warm
and moist. I inhaled his skin and touched his swollen dick.
So this was the weapon, the great tool with which he had opened so many
willing victims. I licked its tip, tasted it, the little shiny and
sticky substance so sweet on my tongue. Then I placed my mouth over the
dick and took it into my throat. I felt it touch the back of my gullet,
and I allowed it to slide in and out. Robert was doing the fucking and
enjoying it immensely! The hot juice gushed into me, and I felt my mouth
swell with his
. It had the scent of coconut, the taste of sweet chunks of fresh coconut. I drew the last drop out of him and his body
tightened, all wired and tense, until he collapsed with a final moan. He
didn't care who heard him. I wiped his dick and pressed the sheet
lightly to his balls. His face was flushed, damp to the touch, and he
looked drained.
He was also a little too grateful. He gave the impression that he had
just received the finest gift imaginable. I left without saying a word,
with only the sweet, fresh taste and the strong scent of Robert as my
companion.
I wondered if our session would be one of those isolated things never to
be repeated. Would Robert ever acknowledge that anything had happened,
or would he be overcome by shame and guilt?
All my fears and wonderings were cleared up the next day. Robert was
waiting, the curtain already drawn three quarters of the way around his
bed. He was propped up with the sheet raised to his belly. He had
removed the hospital gown and his wonderful chest heaved with
anticipation; he was ready. With a gentle tug, he took my hand and
pressed it to the bulge of his crotch. He moved my hand back and forth
until I felt the delightful hardness of his dick and the tightness of
those great balls. He threw the sheet off with a dramatic flair; his
cock stood on its own strength. It reared and seemed ready to challenge
me. I accepted it grandly! Robert had timed the appearances of the
nurses with their thermometers, little paper cups, and pills so we
wouldn't be disturbed. He also eliminated all afternoon visits from
anyone in the family. He virtually prepared the place for us.
When I returned the following day I noticed that the patient in the bed
next to Robert was gone. I was assured the man did not die, but whatever
was wrong had healed. On our third day together Robert obviously wanted
something different. He was on his stomach; by some inventive
manipulation he had managed to get on his belly without disturbing the
broken leg. With his arms outstretched, he looked more vulnerable than
ever. He asked me to stroke his back and then his buns; I spread his
cheeks wide and stuck my finger up his ass.
I felt his body jerk, heard his moans, and saw his butt rise. I pressed
my lips to taste the sweet skin of Robert's buns, and I licked the
saltiness of those great golden-white mounds. He gasped for more, and I
inserted another finger into his asshole, spreading it, feeling it
expand. I opened him as wide as possible and gently tongued his anus,
lightly licking the matted hairs. Robert nearly fell off the bed.
Victory! I had anticipated it. It bolstered my belief that most
straights, once aroused, want the final, complete penetration; my cousin
was no exception. His buns remained high and they moved with a will of
their own. It had been a long time since I had fucked a virgin; I was
going to enjoy this. Robert's asshole was hot and tight; it seemed to
grab at my dick, wrap itself around it, pull my cock in without letting
go, and hold just tight enough so that it couldn't slip out. Robert
seemed made for fucking, built for it. His buns were all muscle.
"I want to feel it shoot in me. I never felt like this before," Robert
screamed.
When I shot I gave him the full thrust of my dick, reaching the deepest
part of him. He gasped, moaned, and then whimpered deliciously.
I stroked his neck, kissed his ear and inhaled the wheat scent of his
golden hair. He seemed relieved, and so wonderfully rested. He had shot
a load of sperm on the bed, and his belly was coated with
.He loved the fuck I had just thrown him. All the time he had spent
indiscriminately fucking the world was a cover; he really wanted the
world to fuck him. Well I wasn't the world, but it was a fuck; one to be
repeated, on a daily basis. Robert and I had the luxury of this hospital
room privacy for several more days. We enjoyed each other, and invented
new games like " the doctor's examination."
Robert had secured a thermometer — still in its little container of
alcohol. He wanted me to pretend to take his temperature. What he really
wanted was an object in his ass, something different, something other
than fingers and a dick. So we played doctor!
I pretended he had a high temperature, and the only thing that would
bring it down was a good fuck and then I applied the remedy. We
pretended the solution to nameless, ambiguous illnesses was a long, hot
suck which led to a miraculous orgasm relieving all illness and
discomfort.
For five days my cousin and I played our games in the little room. The
one thing Robert wanted to do seemed impossible. He wanted to fuck me,
but he couldn't manipulate his body. I provided the solution. The two of
us stripped, and I placed myself between his legs. I raised my buns and
sat on his red-tipped erection. Slowly I eased down, feeling his dick
part my asscheeks. I had never felt so filled, so swollen. I rode Robert
until he exploded. I bent over him, letting the tip of my tongue touch
his. The fire and wildness of that moment blocked out everything, even
the scream of the nurse who had suddenly entered the room and thrown
back the curtain; Robert was released from the hospital the next day.
A throng of anxious young women escorted him home, and they did
everything Robert asked. It was over, I thought. Those wonderful
afternoons in the hospital room would be only memories. Robert was home
and that meant an endless procession of cunt. I was inwardly furious,
but outwardly smiling. I remember the pain of standing in Robert's
bedroom, leaning inconspicuously against the wall, and recalling those
afternoons. Would it ever happen again? I watched the girls, their eyes
darting hungrily over my cousin's body. No, I would never have him
again.
Just when I expected to be placed in a private, quiet pocket of my
cousin's memory, he called. We got together. I asked no questions.
Robert, still hobbling, managed to get himself on his motorcycle. He
insisted that I ride with him. It had been years, but I took a chance. I
was not about to let this go.
"What do I hold onto?" I asked.
"My dick," he said. "You just hold on to that cock for dear life!"
So I grabbed his meat and we enjoyed the warmth of an early afternoon
ride. We rode to the beach, the scene of Robert's accident. We drove on
the hard packed sand and felt the spray of ocean.
Later that afternoon we discovered a private dune, and its high, sharp
grasses provided a blind. We stripped and spent the day fucking, sucking
and licking each other. Robert truly craved me. Everything else had been
a pose, a pretense, made necessary by the role playing that he felt was
expected. Now he didn't care. He had felt the wonderful, sweeping
pleasures of dick up his ass and wanted more.
We rode off bareassed, holding each other and laughing. We rode into the
ocean as well, but were careful not to be reckless. We rode as lovers,
as cousins who had experienced the greatest blood-thrill possible.
"Incest is best," he shouted at the top of his lungs, and the beach and
the breakers seemed to echo the cliché.
"Kissin' cousins," I said.
It was the greatest summer possible. We made love in the dunes, wrapped
ourselves in seaweed, licked the salt from each other's bodies and, at
least once each week, we tested our bravery by riding into the ocean.
Nothing much has changed. Robert and I have been making it for many
years, but the memory of that summer is something special. The sight and
scent of that golden young man; his proud ass raised, demanding that I
enter it; my dick throbbing and exploding deep into his hot body; the
tongues meeting and the saliva mixing — all remind me that Robert and I
were more than just "kissing cousins." Fucking considerably more!
----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----
Thanks to original poster in Yahoo! gaymagazinefiction group!
Enjoy!
