Not gonna lie, the next week was crazy. Uncle Jay and I started sleeping together, but more than that, we were crazy-horny and doin' stuff all the time. He couldn't keep his hands off me and I couldn't get enough of his cock and feet and nastiness.
It was weird -I was pretty sure Unc wasn't gay - except, it seemed like he was hard all the time and a couple of times I caught him kind of going off into a daze, like he was trying to figure his own shit out.
A few times he made comments like, "Shit - no bitch ever done anything this freaky with me" or "Damn kid - I love the way you love my funk."
Every night we'd hang out on the couch and I'd end up on the floor, massaging this legs and then kissing his boots or sneakers or socks. We barely showered that week - just our faces, basically - so our man-smells were compounding. He loved it when I shot loads on him, too. He'd scoop it up and feed it to me - and then he'd smell it and rub it on his body, sometimes licking his fingers.
And he couldn't get enough of my throat and ass - his big uncut Unc cock would always end up inside me. It was non-stop sex, even though we both had jobs, but the minute we were off work we were either cooking up food or cooking up sex. I was in a daze.
Every once in a while I'd think we should talk - and I could tell maybe he wanted to open up, too - but then one thing would lead to another and I'd be licking the bottom of his feet or he'd be grabbing at my ass. He'd come up behind me, slipping his fingers in my butt, and say "Can't get enough of this hole." I pretty much stopped wearing underwear around him. In my dreams I'd just shuck naked and be ready for him at all times, but like I said, we weren't talking that much about it and I didn't want to rock the boat.
That Saturday he hit the gym while I ran errands - had to get food in the house and had to get some laundry done, even though the thought of washing his underwear bummed me out - so I kept some aside, sniffing them between loads. I was crazy horny when he came back, but he was kind of on a work out high - sweaty as all fuck and really beginning to smell rank. I expected him to finally hop in the shower, but he grabbed a Gatorade and flopped on the couch, turning on the game.
I'd been horned up all day and with him sitting there, all pumped up and sweaty and stanky, I couldn't help myself. After I put away the laundry I knelt at his feet.
"Really rank, kid," he said, mindlessly, but opened his legs, nonetheless.
"I know," I said, then dove into his crotch. I was so fucking horny after snorting on his underwear that I had to get at the real thing.
"Fuck yeah, Stew," he growled, pulling aside his gym shorts. "Get in there."
I did, scrounging between his balls and thighs - then I began mouthing his cock through his free- balling gym-shorts, but the smell - fuck ... the smell - suddenly I didn't care about his cock - I reached up and pulled off his shorts. His cock was semi but I dove on his sweaty balls. Uncle Jay moaned louder, spreading his legs wider.
"Fuck," was all he said, but he gave me complete access. I had first one testicle in my mouth, then the other, but I wanted more, so I pulled on his legs, letting his ass fall off the edge of the futon, and dove into his taint as I pushed his thighs apart as wide as they would go.
I was on a mission.
I could tell he was at war with himself at first - this much vulnerability was probably taboo for him. At the same time I was like a truffle-pig, huffing and licking and groaning to myself. I knew what I wanted and showed him that - showed him this was heaven for me
"Fuck, Stew," he whispered, like there was an audience or something, getting all shy. "You really wanna lick my ass, kid?"
"Unhuhnnnn," I said, nodding.
"Don't know, bud - could be pretty rank down there."
His mature self was winning the argument, so I told my truth. I pulled up, eyes glazed, face covered in mouth-slime and crotch sweat.
"I know, Uncle Jay - that's why I wanna - been thinking about it all day -"
I was grabbing at my cock now in my sweats. Drool dropped out of my lips.
"Been sniffing on your underwear, Unc - the ones you wear and wipe your ass with - want the real thing now." Admitting this embarrassed me. I felt my face flush red. But, I was being honest, and that let me hold my head up. I was also too horny to care that much. I mean - I loved licking his dirty feet. He shouldn't be a surprised I wanted to lick his butt.
He just looked at me - eyes narrowed - as this last piece of the puzzle fell into place.
"I sniff my own shorts, too, kid. Every night."
My eyes widened in understanding.
"You're a little piggy boy, aren't ya, Stewart?" His cock flexed rock hard - balls tightening up, head drooling out of his foreskin.
"Yessir," I said.
"Want to stick your tongue up my rank butt, huh kid?"
"Uhhuh," I nodded, mouth open.
He kept looking at me.
"Bitches never do that," he said, not to me - just to the universe - or maybe to himself.
"I'll do it whenever you want, Daddy," I said. It was the first time I'd called him that. He came out of his self-reflection and looked at me even more directly. Whatever hesitation had caused him to pause our perversion was burned away with that word. His desire dictated his direction.
"Then get to work, son," he said, and pulled up his legs.
I didn't hesitate. I dove right in, sticking my tongue out and licking his trench from bottom to top - up to the taint and back down again. It tasted sharp and tart and salty, and the fetid musk was overwhelming, but I was in nirvana - this was (nearly) every fantasy I'd ever had.
He threw back his head and groaned like a bear, nearly howling in pleasure.
"AAAAWWWWWFUCKYEEEEAAHHHH, KID," he growled, throwing his legs back even farther, gripping his thighs with his worked-out arms, and then I dove, shoving my tongue in his hole, lapping the ridges, swirling, lunging, pushing in, sucking out and just going hog-wild on his hole.
"So good - fucking so good - " he huffed, and then he grabbed his cock but I batted it away -
"Make it last, Unc," I grunted. It was my first real assertion and his eyes got wide when I did it, but he complied. I was going on instinct now - I dove back and as I did I said, "Open up for me - let me taste it - ALL of it."
He grabbed my head and pushed my face in his funk, then pushed out his lips and I groaned like a slut, lapping up the edges of his hole, diving deep, tasting the very essence of him and his darkness. This went on for a few minutes with him groaning and calling me a slew of nasty names - then he pulled me up by the shoulders and we were face to face.
His eyes were wild - crazy even -
He sniffed me.
"Can smell my butt on your face, kid."
"Uhhuh," I said.
"Want to taste it -"
"Want you to taste it, Uncle."
His tongue lashed out, licking my lips - then his mouth covered mine but it was more like sampling: he wanted to experience what I was experiencing; to smell what I was smelling.
"Stewart," he whispered, kissing me hard now, but suddenly the tenor had changed. He was intimate - secretive. I tried to control my breathing, but we were both huffing with ragged passion. Then I felt his hand on my ass, fingers moving into my crease.
"Yes, Uncle Jay?"
"Do you ever - you know - stick your finger down there and then bring it back up -
"To smell it? Yeah - I do."
"Fuck."
"Do you?"
"Fuck yeah, kid - all the time." Now it was his turn to blush - it was slight but it was noticeable nonetheless. "Every day."
"Show me," I said. We stayed like that, on the edge of deviant precipice, then I felt his other hand reach down between us. His hole was wet with my slime so his finger slipped right in. Then, he pulled it out, bringing it up between us.
"Smell it, Unc."
He did - sniffing deep.
"Smell good?"
"Fuck yeah - love my own stink."
"You want me to smell it, too, huh?" I asked, lasciviously and with a hint of eager youth, which made the whole thing even more lewd. I knew the answer to this question but couldn't fucking wait to hear him say it. I wanted him to engage with me in our shared perversity.
"Yeah," he grunted, eyes searching mine, trying to tread gently on delicate erotic ground. "But, I know - like, you know - OTHER stink ain't as good as your own, sometimes - know what I mean?"
I nodded.
But like I said, I was all in.
"I mean - I know that," I replied, trembling with quiet excitement. "But also - I LIKE the way you smell, and I'm thinking the more we ... you know ... get -"
"Get used to it?" he said, encouraging.
"Yeah," I nodded, excitedly. "Get used to it, then maybe -"
"Yeah maybe..." he said, letting that trail off in our shared imaginations. He was nearly breathless now - as was I. "That's what I been thinking."
"Fuck, Uncle Jay - been thinking that, too."
It was weird. We were suspended, having an intimate conversation about our deviance - our love of stank and smell and funk and grunge - but the sexual tension kept building. We had plateaued, but our fevers were rising as we revealed our secrets to each other.
We kept looking at each other - he sniffed his finger funk again, then slowly put it under my nose. I breathed in.
It wasn't bad - fuck it was actually good - but there wasn't much scent. He hadn't gone deep is the problem.
"Like it?" he asked, almost shyly. His gaze was expectant.
"So fucking hot, Uncle Jay," I said.
"Fuck yeah," he growled, quietly.
"But -"
And then I took his finger into my mouth and sucked it all in, drooling on it, wetting it, licking it - tasting it.
"You didn't go deep enough."
His eyes narrowed. Then he nodded. Our gaze didn't break as his hand moved between us and then into his trench. I felt his arm flex, then his body jerk. I leaned into him and whispered in his ear. "Go deep, Uncle Jay - please - "
There was a pause as his other hand caressed my back, then my head. He was trying to articulate something but I finished the thought for him.
"You know you want to - Daddy."
I pulled back.
"This is what we both want," I said and he nodded in simple understanding. We were going to cross a line and we were going to do it together. He dug in his ass and then pulled out. Then he slowly raised his finger up. I didn't look at it - didn't need to.
"Smell it," I said. "Like you do."
He stuck it under his nose. Now the sharp grunge invaded my consciousness. For a moment I was torn - between revulsion and desire - and then he breathed in and a look of deviant arousal shuddered through him. This was him in his deepest, darkest closet - the place that no one had ever looked in. But, now a thin light was shining and it revealed a demon that was dripping with sex and taboo and transgression.
"FUCK. YEAH." He licked the underside of his finger, showing me crud on his tongue. Then he closed his mouth, savoring himself, snorted in again, and exhaled - this both cleared the air and mixed his rank with his breath, lessening it, while also giving it more depth and nuance.
"Fuck," he grunted, eyes opening back up, looking at me, encouragingly.
"You can do it, kid - you wanna - I can see it in your eyes - do it for your Daddy." It was the tenderness of his encouragement that pushed me over the line. I heard love in the ripples of his words, even though what he was asking me to do was disgusting.
"Fuck," I said, shivering.
"Come on - you smell your own." His tone was lascivious. "So, smell mine."
And then the light that had shown on his darkest desires crept under the door of my own kink closet. If he had secrets and could reveal them to me, I could do the same. I had always wanted something like this - something this perverse, deviant and dirty.
It was his effortless logic that helped me take the right turn down that wrong road. The fact that we both did this in our private moments unified us in my head. He breathed in one last time and snorted out, then pushed his finger under my nose and I snorted, too. Whatever resistance crumbled because, I think, I was able to tease out the similarities in our stank and then I was lost, moaning like a whore as I grabbed his hand and shoved my nose on his finger, rutting on the couch like a dog in heat, sniffing and drooling and sharing our love of raunch.
He grabbed my head, pulling me in - kissing me intensely. He grabbed my head with his grunge- fingered hand, which allowed me to manage the stank, but more importantly, witness his arousal - which was beyond anything I'd experienced with him so far. Had I found my soul mate? Were my silent, impossible dreams suddenly available? I pulled away, eyes wide - grunge-hunger triggered. My fingers searched for his hole.
"More, Unc -" I growled. "Want more of you."
He saw in me what I saw in him and he nodded urgently, as I pushed in, trying to be gentle. He grunted, reacting to the invasion, but welcomed me. "Dig, kid - get it - get what you want."
And I did - feeling the heat and the grunge inside him, adding another finger, pushing harder, losing myself, pulling out, no longer experiencing any personal resistance and shoving my fingers between our lapping lips. I painted my drooling mouth with his essence, then wiped my fingers on his cheek and my own so we would be marked and so I could smell it on us later, and then we kissed, aggressively, sharing an intimacy that most men never know
"God," he cried. "Fucking God - so nasty -"
"UMMMmmmmmmmnnnnnn," I growled, then dove on my fingers, tasting him.
"Gonna cum," he said, grabbing at his cock.
I just nodded, grabbing at my own cock through my sweats, then diving between his legs, pushing a finger in his hole, stretching it out, then smothering his anus, tasting all of him with my hungry mouth and reveling in it - lunging and grunging and eating his rank, stank ass.
"More - I want more," I begged as his hole twitched and plumed - then slammed shut on my sick mouth because my greedy begging had triggered his orgasm - a huge load that missed his body and flew over his head. I convulsed, face deep in his butt, spewing out my own load, moaning like a whore, clenching on his ass while it clenched on my tongue, spurting out rope after rope of hot male spew in my sweats.
Our bodies shook for what seemed like hours - time was meaningless on this raunchy playing field. Then he pulled me up, gently, and I licked and sniffed his cheek where I'd left a tainted trail.
He whispered ...
"Thank you, son," he said, caressing me. "Thank you, Stewart." Then he kissed me. "So good - so fucking hot - "
And I just nodded.
It was gentle and sweet and loving, given the depths of our depravity, even as the air was filled with his potent smell - a totality of odor - of gym-sweat and crotch funk and cum-spew and hole-scut - that lifted me high as a kite.
"Wanna lie down," he said, quietly, yawning, stretching his legs, and I nodded, getting up and pulling him up after me. We stumbled to our small bedroom. He shucked his shirt and I stripped down, making sure to slop my sperm all over my stomach, and we crawled in to bed. Both of us were breathing heavily soon enough. But just as I was nodding off I felt his fingers trace my ass, centering on my own sweaty hole.
"Wanna taste you, too," he said, pushing into me.
I moaned and then we fell asleep.
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