Chapter Five
We took turns showering.
I put lotion on my glowing butthole and high-fived him as he came in. Drying my hair in the front room, I could hear Uncle Tom singing into the steaming spray. The clock in the hall cuckooed ten times and the October wind shivered around the corners of the cabin. Wrapping the terrycloth around my waist, I stoked the wood- stove and smiled over how my ass felt like it still had something like a baby's arm shoved up inside.
Uncle Tom has a very deep voice. He also has pretty lame musical taste. If he isn't whistling stuff from the fifties, he's singing songs from groups that are way, way gone. "I'm gonna lay you down in a bed of roses," I heard him through the door, "for tonight I sleep on a bed of nails.....I'm gonna be just as close as the Holy Ghost is....." The brass lamp with the green shade reminded me of his eyes. The log walls with native woven rugs on them reminded me of his warmth. And the old sofa with its beat-up cushions reminded me of........
"Hey, bubba." He was standing in the doorway, his head nearly touching the top of the arch.
"Hey, Hercules." His black hair was slicked back, but that wayward curl still hung over his tanned brow. "Where'd you get those from? --the very back of the drawer?"
He looked down at his frayed undershirt and jockeys. "I dunno. We need to do a laundry tomorrow. Aren't you cold?"
I wrapped my towel a little more snuggly and shrugged. "It's warm in here. The wind's sure picking up, though, huh?"
He tilted his head, listening to the branch knocking on the front window. "We've gotta bring in more wood before we hit the sack." He headed for the kitchen. "C'mon, Billy, we should finish the dishes."
I smiled at how his wifebeater couldn't seem to cover his physique. It was thread-bare in places, his muscles nearly ripping through. His giant shoulders made the straps look ready to snap. And the seat of his jockeys sported a few holes, unable to hold his soccer ball cheeks inside.
I loved how he never seemed aware of his own body. I'd spend so much time looking in the mirror, trying to get my curly hair to behave, while he'd barely look at himself. He hated shaving--bothering only about twice a week--and threw on anything that appeared first in the closet.
At the doorway I watched how his shoulders tapered down to a waist so small, his ass literally bounced out from his hips. His frayed shorts were stretched so thin, I could view the dark, furry crease, mysterious and begging to be explored. Below were hairy thighs so big, they flexed even when he was relaxed.
I watched his triceps and biceps bulge as he squeezed some dish soap into the sink.
"Tell me how you are, Billy," he said, handing me the dish towel.
I could feel his freshly showered body radiating heat over my naked torso. I almost dropped a plate while looking at his hunky ass. I'd never really seen him walking around in underwear before.
"Well, let me see," I said. "My rear feels a little 'broken in'", I admitted. "And, you know....", I hesitated a bit. ".... I feel a little...."
He paused. "....a little....?" He was looking down sideways at me with raised brows.
".... you know," I shrugged and smirked. "Horny."
His eyebrows shot up, a half-smile playing on his dimpled mouth. "Horny?" he queried me. "You're really still
horny
?"
He watched me shrug and shyly nod, looking down at my feet.
"Aren't you even a little bit tired?" He watched me then staring at his big round muscular butt.
"Me?.....Tired?" I crunched my abs and flexed my pecs. "Don't you remember being eighteen?"
He stopped washing the cutlery and turned, his eyebrows furrowing. "Shit. How old do you think I even
am
, dude?"
I burst out laughing. "Dude?" I laughed more and pointed. "Excuse me, Uncle Tom---but did you just call me 'DUDE'?"
I wasn't prepared for how quickly he turned on me, reaching for my towel. I danced away but not before his hand grabbed it free.
"You little shit.... trying to make me feel old?" He nodded at my naked crotch. "Looks like I'm young enough to give you a big fat woody---huh
dude
?" He snapped my towel at me.
I laughed, watching his green eyes hunger over my sexy bushed ramrod cock and bouncing balls ---staring as everything jumped and twitched, boy balls slapping. I snapped the dish towel in his direction. But he kept moving menacingly closer, backing me into the front room.
I was laughing and darting around the sofa--watching his muscles shifting--watching his bulging jockeys heavily sway with sex as he stalked me. It was like being chased by a big turned-on linebacker.
"C'mere boy.... take your punishment."
I waited until he was between the sofa and the wall, then darted in front and shoved the whole thing back, pinning him. Then I leapt onto the cushions and grabbed his shirt in both hands. A second before his huge arms stopped me, I tore the whole front of it open.
A look of surprise crossed his rugged face as we both watched his hairy tits bust out.
"Why, you little fucker," he muttered. "You think your little rearend hurts
now
?" He almost tossed the sofa aside, climbing right over it, heading my way. "I'll spank you till you're pink!"
I threw my arms out trying to stop his advance, my spasmed laughter breathy, my eyes drinking in his tattered wifebeater, his mountainous pecs and fat nipples staring right back at me. I could see the skin of his giant balls peeping through one of the holes in his ancient Fruit-of-the-Looms. His thighs flexed mightily and a thrilling, fearful excitement grabbed my heart.
"I--I didn't mean it..." I laughingly protested. "Honest!" He kept coming towards me. "Uncle Tom!--" I laughed and yelled, and saw myself getting backed into the corner, my stiff boycock tossing around.
His fierce, menacing look couldn't hide the fact that he was staring right at my shit. And even as he backed me further into the log-walled corner, his own mantool began swelling in response. I could see the expanding head pushing against the frayed cotton.
I knew then that this was all a big show. I knew then that I was turning him on.... turning him on bigtime. It brought new laughter to my lips.
"You better apologize pretty damn quick, Mr. Dude."
I got caught in a fit of bent over giggling, which managed to force a crooked smile over his wide, sexy lips.
"
Well?!
"
The longer he had to wait for me, the bigger and stiffer his frayed pouch was getting.