Hard Hike with Uncle Mike Ch. 01
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Editor’s note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content, as well as scenes of rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, or non-consensual sex.
The soles of my shoes slipped, ankles angled to grip the blunted tips of granite piercing the near 90-degree incline, the wall punctuating an otherwise consistent switchback. My thighs burned. The accumulated lactic acid over ten hours permeated every muscle fiber, stiff and stabbing with every effort. Justin, my friend’s son, a recent high school grad and muscular All-American heavyweight wrestler, waited for me to scale the natural rock barrier before climbing it himself.
I looked down at Justin ascending from atop the ledge, admiring his arms, the stretch lightening the color of the smooth, young skin over the flexed bugles. Nothing but a tank-top, runners shorts, and backpack straps hung on his solid frame.
Teeth clenched, eyes squinting, the sound of Justin’s breathing grew labored. He was near the top. I laid down flat on the dusty trail and offered my hand down to him. A pained yell blasted from his open mouth, pulling his sizable body up far enough to reach. Our hands clapped each other’s forearms, one after the other.
“Fuck, Justin, you’re a heavy motherfucker,” I said, the words escaping through my clenched teeth.
Justin scanned the surface and pushed up against any granite structure his feet could find. He let go of one of my arms to hook under one of my pits. Hands freed, I laced my fingers together and hit his upper thigh, prompting him to lift his knee. He did. I pulled up, lifting the stout boy with all my might. Justin bent his torso to one side. A knee cleared the top’s edge, grazing against the side of my shoulder and leveraging to pull the rest of him up, bending his upper body over onto my back. He lay on me, hyperventilating, his crotch resting on the back of my neck, my ass pillowing his face.
My groin twitched. I chuckled to myself. The bitch lucky enough to rummage around in that nest had my envy. The weight smashed my ribcage and face into the gravel and stones on the trail. Had the situation been just a little different, I’d have relished him crushing me under his mass.
“I wasn’t kidding, you cow. So get off,” I said, insistent but playful.
With a grunt, the flex of his chest and stomach against my back triggering a roll to one side, his legs dangling over the edge.
“God damn it, Uncle Mike,” he said. “Why’d you take me on this ball-busting hike?”
“Hmm, let me see why, that’s a good question, why—” I paused, giving him a side-eye, tapping my index finger against my jaw theatrically. “Because your pussy ass has been bugging me to take you since you were seventeen, that’s why.”
Justin laughed. I offered my hand and pulled him to his feet.
He bent over and put istanbul travesti his palms on his knees, head down, taking deep breaths.
“Just a little over a mile left, boy,” I said, motioning at him to follow.
Taking one last deep breath, he stood upright, and we continued to navigate the winding, dusty trail.
It was technically illegal to camp outside designated areas in the park, but I’d been to this spot a dozen times over the decades. The view and pristine wilderness couldn’t be beat. My big mouth wouldn’t shut up about the fantastic spot to my best friend, Justin’s dad. Its location was one of my few secrets, but when Justin kept asking me to show him, my resistance consistently eroded. His dad wasn’t athletic and didn’t take him hiking. If it weren’t for his mother, perhaps he’d have skipped sports altogether. Thank god for her. Wrestling had transformed Justin into a fine-looking young man with a strong jaw, cleft chin, warm sepia baby-soft skin, thick, short, black hair, and deep russet eyes with flecks of glowing ember.
At the campsite, the two of us lay atop our sleeping bags on a huge flat boulder, its base two feet above the ground, at least twenty feet wide and thirty feet long. It was too nice out to be inside our warm sleeping backs. We both laid on top. Our small fire glowed orange with foraged wood embers, at our feet, smokeless, serving mostly to cook our meager tinfoil wrapped food and to embellish the ambiance. On that moonless, cloudless night, we gazed, enraptured, at the mind-shattering view of the Milky Way, our heads resting on our fingers.
Silence was default on my trips here alone, but Justin streamed his thoughts.
“You could never see this from home,” he said.
I agreed flatly.
“It’s so nice to get away from, from, ya know, all the bullshit.”
I said nothing.
He rolled and adjusted on top of his sleeping bag, “Always trying to be cool and act the part, ya know.”
“Yeah,” I said. “There’s a kind of freedom up here.”
Justin briefly hummed in agreement.
I heard him take a breath to say something, but then nothing. He did it again, but again, nothing.
“Happy high school’s over?” I asked, trying to open him up.
“I guess,” he said. “It wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.”
“No?” I asked. “What do you think you missed out on?”
“I, uh, I don’t know,” he said. “I guess I was hoping to, uh, you know, have more luck in the bedroom; you, uh, know what I mean?”
“Wow, I’m sorry and a little surprised to hear that, Justin.”
“You and me both,” he said. “I got to second base with lots of girls but couldn’t seal the deal.”
“Bitches,” I said. “Their loss.”
“Well, uh,” he paused. “I think they wanted to, but I’d get so nervous and scared. I, uh, you know, uh, I couldn’t like stay, uh.”
“Couldn’t istanbul travestileri stay hard?” I asked.
“Uh,” he swallowed loudly, “Uh, yeah.” There was a long pause. “I was so anxious that I wouldn’t be any good, or it’d be obvious I was a virgin.”
“It’s normal to be anxious about your first time,” I said, trying to reassure him.
Poor kid, a sexy mountain of muscle and cum. I didn’t realize he was so anxious, and I doubt his parents did, either.
“It’ll happen,” I said.
With a beleaguered tone, he exhaled with a “Yeah.”
“When did you lose yours?” he asked after a long quiet.
“Oh, I was 22.”
“Really?” he asked with a mix of surprise and fear, sitting up slightly, his silhouette twisting toward me. “I hope it happens earlier for me.”
“I expect you will, boy.”
Justin lay back down atop his bag. “What was it like?” he asked.
My first time was with an older guy, but I couldn’t tell Justin that. His dad knew but was very don’t-ask-don’t-tell about it. Telling me that part of my life was my business. It wasn’t great to hear that from my best friend, but I had to respect his boundaries. We didn’t talk about it again.
“It was quick,” I said, chuckling.
He joined with an awkward laugh. “What do you mean?”
“I was too excited. I finished in like a couple of seconds,” I said.
“Yeah, I’m afraid of, uh, of that.”
A faint silhouette of his hand and arm moved to his waist. I could just make it out in front of the stary glow
My cock jerked, picturing him railing some bitch. The porn producer in my mind focused on his hard shaft pumping. I wonder how often he jerks off. Would he now? How big and fat was he? How does he taste, smell? He probably comes a lot. Mouthwatering, my cock ticked up the surface of my groin below thin fabric of my shorts.
Justin was quiet. I didn’t see him move. His breaths slowed, steadying.
What seemed like hours passed, but my dick refused to let me sleep. I could discern my pulse in its tip. Finally, it seemed safe, so I dragged off my briefs, my dick slapping against my gut when freed. I cupped my balls and choked my shaft, leaking immediately. With my thumb, I dabbed the pre-cum and sucked it off. A week’s worth of cum undulated in my balls. I released my sack and caressed my lower belly. I shivered, wetting my lips. Thoughts of Justin fucking flashed as subliminal messages on the screen of my mind. Repeatedly, I returned to Justin, a horse cock, enormous balls, discharging his load deep inside me. My mouth ran dry, chest tight. I needed to see.
My phone was virtually useless up here, but the flashlight and camera worked. I proceeded to the side of him, leaned over his crotch, the warmth radiating against my face, skimming over his tiny shorts with my hand, feeling travesti istanbul for a bulge. When I found his shaft tucked on the side closest to me, I reached through the leg hole, hooking my index finger around his shaft, pulling it down and out.
From my pocket, I retrieved my phone and tapped on the face. It glowed too bright. I unlocked it and dimmed the display. My hands shook with adrenaline. What would he do if he caught me? His endurance wasn’t great. I could probably outrun him, but if he caught me, he’d overpower me, beat the shit out of me. My cock throbbed. Breaths were a challenge to keep quiet. I could feel streams of pre-cum dripping onto my legs. The ruminations of Justin having his way with me, overpowering and holding me down, gave me goosebumps all over my limbs and back.
I triggered my flashlight, blocking the glow toward Justin’s face with a palm. The motherfucker was thick, really thick. I couldn’t tell how long, a humble 3 inches soft, perhaps. It wasn’t enough. I wanted to see him hard.
I wrapped my fingers around his coke can, tugging and stroking. It was impossible to resist, I licked the underbelly of his head. His cock jolted, filling fast. I stroked it, my eyes wide as it grew, and angled upward. A good six inches long, thick as hell. Fuck, this kid had the perfect cock. I took the tip into my mouth, circling with my tongue. Justin didn’t move.
Jaw wide, I took more and more of his soft, uncut cock down my throat. My tongue, flat and soft, caressed the undercarriage. His pre-emissions were so sweet, the quantity generous. I couldn’t believe how bad I was being, but he needed this. He needed to bust a huge nut. It’d relax him.
Bolder, I gripped his large danglers, rolling them around in my palm, my other working shaft, mouth swallowing him whole again and again. His leg twitched, pre-cum thickened. The erect tissue flanking the soft tube on my tongue was rock hard. A whimper came from his face. A powerful pulse thumped against my knuckles that handled his balls. He flooded my mouth. I swallowed, trying to quiet a moan. Again, he flooded my mouth, then again, faster than I could swallow. Perhaps I’d drown in his jizz. Ah, to drown in this young stud’s cum, what a way to go. Almost sad when the ropes stopped splashing against my throat, I squeezed out the remaining juice into my mouth. A stream trickled down both sides of my mouth. I wiped my face with a finger and sucked it dry. My eyes starred with streaming lights, head swaying back and forth. I felt lightheaded and dizzy. I returned to my sleeping bag and busted the biggest nut for as long as I could remember.
Immediately, my body craved another hit. What if I never got another chance? I didn’t think I could cope. I needed him, needed to feel him in my mouth, in my ass. Would he want that? Could I get it while I slept? The boy was a deep sleeper, for sure. Maybe I could. Still, I wanted him to overpower me, fuck me hard whenever he wanted. Use me and fuck my brains out. Holy fucking shit, I was obsessed. Who could blame me, though? The boy was a god.
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