Organization: Transponder 5 Comm./N9CSA BBS (312) 776-9768
THE HUNTING TRIP
Deer season in November has long been a tradition time among the men in our family for long before I was born. It is an Arkansas ritual of total maleness where women are not allowed, a time when the men go together deep into the woods to camp and hunt.
Imagine ten or so middle-aged and young men cooking for each other, drinking,talking sex, then culminating the day of camaraderie by crawling into small tents to sleep together.
At last, after years of waiting, I was old enough to go -- considered strong enough to keep up on the run, to handle a gun and to participate in the lewd talk and innuendo that fill the days.
Finally the morning came and our little caravan of pick-ups and cars left for the hunting grounds. The anticipation built as we moved along and I began to wonder about what lay ahead in the week to come.
At sixteen my body had just entered manhood. Our family mix has produced a very pleasing genetic arrangement. My mother is dark Italian -- blue black hair, sharp features and olive skin, while my father is a hulking 6'2" Norwegian with white blond hair and a golden tan. My chest was just forming a fine spray of blond hair which would eventually whirl over my stomach. Already my crotch and legs were thickly matted with a tangle of hair -- it even spread somewhat down the length of my cock. When hard, my dick was 71/2 " and it showed no signs of slowing down in growth. Even then, I could only just barely fit my fingers around it.
The first day at our campsite, we spend most of the morning setting up, one central tent for cooking and meeting which would sleep four, and then three smaller tents which would sleep two each.
I was glad to see that I wasn't the only newcomer -- there was my cousin Linda's new young husband, Kevin. I couldn't help wondering how his new blood would affect the family look. He is from strapping Irish stock, bright red hair, flawless skin, green eyes.
We were just finishing dinner and since Kevin was to sleep in the mess tent he was one of the first to begin to undress.
I had to suppress a gasp when his tee-shirt came over his head revealing a wide expanse of red hair covering his chest and stomach. The most unusual thing about it was the way it stood out between his nipples -- the hair there being so thick and long it stuck out about two inches from the surface of the skin.
From my chair at the foot of his cot I had a perfect view up the wide leg of his boxer shorts. Clearly visible were his two huge hairy nuts, so large they filled the large gap and obscured any view of his dick shaft.
We were all so tired that first night I don't even remember lying down. My hunt partner was my mother's youngest brother Tony. Just before dawn he was shaking me awake to get dressed and I saw to my disappointment that he was dressed already.
On entering the mess tent my Uncle Jeff was cooking and he told me that he hadn't been able to wake Kevin so would I mind shaking him again. After going through the small partition at the back of the tent, my first sensation was the strong scent of fresh sperm, then I did a double take!
Kevin was lying flat on his back, the covers kicked down to his knees. He was in the final throes of a wet dream! His cock head and four inches of incredibly thick shaft were above his waist band far past his navel.
The finger-sized tube on the underside was still belching blobs of come onto his stomach, but those first shots must have been massive: there were globs in his hair, on his cheek, across his lips and even in the deep cleft of his chin; his chest was streamed with great splashes of semen, the hairs of his stomach were down and the great pool which filled his navel was running off both sides of his abdomen.
He was still sleeping soundly, but I couldn't wake him like this, so I grabbed a nearby towel. After a few seconds of mopping, the towel was pretty well soaked with sperm, but at least Kevin was clean enough to waken. His eyes came open groggily. He looked at me, then at his slowly relaxing meat. He smiled shyly and made some lame joke about missing his wife, or something.
Thoughts of Kevin kept me so horny all that day I wasn't much into the hunt, but Uncle Tony didn't seem to mind much and the hours passed fairly quickly.
After supper that evening, I could hardly wait to get to bed: I was going to see Uncle Tony undress and tonight I wasn't sleepy. He had that super,healthy look of an extraordinarily dark Italian stud. At 18, his body was approaching the peak of it's glowing health.
Dark black hair covered his chest and stomach, so thick that you could hardly see the skin of his ridged belly underneath. His legs were hairy, and even the tops of his feet and toes had little patches of wonderfully dark hair.
He wore blinding white jockey shorts and the mound in the front was so filled with soft dick and balls, the leg holes were pushed open and a wide expanse of ball bag showed on either side.
It was really getting colder that night, and as Tony slipped into the double sleeping bag, he just naturally wrapped his big muscular arms around me and drew me close.
"No sense in shivering when I got all this fur," he said.
"It feels great," I replied nervously, wondering if he caught the anxiety in my voice.
After about fifteen minutes I could hear the rhythmic breathing of steady sleep coming from Tony. I had my back to him and could feel the warmth of his breath on my neck. And, there was an inviting, warm mound pressing into my rear.
I began to slowly grind my ass and massage his dick with my buns. Instantly I felt the thick tube snake along my crack.
I scooted the sweat pants that I slept in down over my hips, but I knew it was important to maintain the illusion of being asleep and, as far as I knew, he still was.
The head of his dong made it over the top of his waistband; then I could feel the thick foreskin pulling off the huge bell shaped head.
His hips began to move ever so slowly. He was pumping so much pre-cum that soon my ass was slick with lube.
I had never been fucked before, as much as I had thought about it, and I knew I had to try. Tony was so big and handsome, I just had to try to get him inside me, to feel him press his rod in my hole.
Finally the head was positioned against my asshole. It felt like a small apple being pressed against a hole the size of a dime but with the help of the steady flow of the pre-cum, the head pushed/popped inside, then the shaft, inch by inch, till I felt like I was going to burst.
I was trying not to cry out, yet I just had to know how much shaft was left. I was afraid he might rip me apart. But still I tried to pretend sleep. I found that when I raised my right leg the pressure was much less, and eventually the discomfort subsided and was replaced by an incredible warm glow.
I was in full jack knife position when I felt his mammoth hairy nuts pressing into mine, and I knew he was in. There must have been at least 10 inches of wrist-thick cock up my tight virginal asshole, at least that's how it felt to me, and I loved it.
Almost too soon, I felt a hot splashing pressure inside my rectum and I knew he was shooting his load. Not a wild passionate orgasm, but a slow surging release that gave me a full, warm feeling.
His dick lost none of it's hardness and after about ten minutes, he began making longer and longer strokes, this time making a muffled grunt each time his rod fucked into my ass.
Now that there was the added lubrication of his first massive cum load, I felt nothing but pleasure. His wide dick head was massaging my prostate and the thick hair on his lower shaft was teasing my sphincter.
Without even touching my own dick, I suddenly came in great belching spurts that shot onto my face - a large amount going into my mouth and the rest on my chest and the sleeping bag.
And we continued for what seemed a sweet eternity.
Sometime after Tony had come a third time, I truly did fall asleep, feeling as stuffed as a Thanksgiving turkey.
During the early morning hours, I awoke with a blinding need to shit. I crawled out of the tent and tried to hold the load in my bowels, but great streams of thick white ooze were running down my hairy young legs to my ankles.
When I was far enough away from the camp, I let loose with what felt like a quart of the warm Italian sperm that had been fucked up my shitter-hole by my beautiful Uncle Tony.
As I've gotten older, the hunt has become the anchoring point of every year. No matter where I travel or what I'm doing, nothing has ever been more important than returning in November. And, of course, tradition just wouldn't be complete unless Uncle Tony is my partner on the hunt.
- SLMR 2.1a *