Stick Shift: Pancakes with Family


Lulled by the sonorous night sounds wafting through the open bay windows over the big bed, I lazed half in and half out of sleep. What a wonderful spot to exist in, I thought, knowing the dream I had been enjoying was actually a recent memory of the trip into the big city the previous weekend. Memories of which I would hope to carry a long time, what with the steamy and sultry happenings at the ‘cocksucker palace’ my man had turned me on to…

My early morning wood throbbed under the weight of Cal’s leg resting on my groin as he slumbered, arm over my chest, face softly nuzzling my neck. His amazingly sweet morning breath sighing musically while he dozed in a protective half-covering position over my butt-nakedness.

A very endearing house rule, I loved the fact that he had set the hard-and-fast dictate from the inaugural night of our relationship for ‘no clothing in bed’. He was a semi-nudist as it was, preferring only saggy boxers when home, never anything tighter, front opening usually widely gaped, and the freedom of air-cooled skin whenever possible. Big, wide bare feet a given.

My luck, as it were, considering the silky smoothness of his superbly toned body. With less than four percent body fat, the sight of him never went unnoticed (or unfelt) and my mind’s eye contentedly pictured us tangled in skewed bedsheets as if I were peering down from a perch at the ceiling corner. What a lucky man I was.

As I gradually roused without any body movement other than some muscle stretching/ tensing-and-releasing- oh, and the boner, of course, pulsing against his thigh- he faintly responded by a soft, purring change to the rhythm of his breath, coming up from the deepness that was his sleep mode. Licking his lips, he “shooshed” a breath at my neck in exhalation and I felt his smile at the action, “You my sexy baby, dude-boy?” All I could manage was a muffled,”Hmmmmmm”, from behind a closed-eye half smile.

“Baby, you gettin’ me goin’, now…you keep up that slo-mo down there and you gone’ make me cum, you know that, right…? I’m ’bout ready-to-climb-on-up there, bay-bee”, he whispered in my ear.

I loved when he reverted to the local patois of northern Georgia as opposed to his highly educated articulation. Made my dick harder…but wait…

Both of my hands were presently raised up over my head and I hadn’t moved…we both tensed together and sat upright, surprised by the sudden realization of a nappy head between us down low.

“Small Boy– Dawg!” Cal exclaimed, yanking on Boy’s little arm to separate it from where his little palm slowly rubbed the hugeness that was Cal’s woodness, “You little bugger, whatchyoubedoin downintherepissant?”

The little nephew popped up, busted, and leapt out of the tiny gap unrealized between the two of us where the boy had sometime before snuck up to cuddle. He skiddled to the floor and raced out the cracked door, slamming it on his escape, giggle fading around the corner as he went…

“Damn,” Cal hissed, “that little mess is gonna get on my last nerve, damnnn it!” As he reclined back to the mattress, drawing me down with him.

A few forced-hrrrumphs later, the swollen heat of my man’s curving drippiness inched to my hip and rubbed hornily all up on me. It never took anything more than a brushing touch from any part of this man’s body to raise my fever and the desire for a slow-ride before breakfast came unnervingly easy. My buoyant cock bounced expectantly as I stretched out my enjoyment, feeling my tubular underdick whisk rhythmically off the smoothly dark hard belly next to it. I nibbled the earlobe and blew lightly for effect. He shivered his notice, enwrapping my lips with his own.

It almost bothered me, this hold he held, but I smashed that feeling as I pushed his leg over and sidled up on to his flattened lap, intensifying the stud’s already tumescent boinging state. His sexy-ass foreskin rolled sensually back from the sensitive phattened head. The imp that was Boy had readied him perfectly and Cal wasn’t even gonna admit to that. He froze as I lifted up to get the ten inch pre-cumming monster-of-my-eye targeted to its preferred location.

Cal peered around my own bouncing, boned-up whiteboy piece to assure Boy’s absence, then groaned as I descended down over the one-eyed 10’s ’til our black-on-whites met and melded. Squeezing the cheeks strongly and deliberately-it made him nuts- I began a slow loping motion, all the way up, then down, in hopes of long, rolling spurts.

His large and manly hands cupped my rounded globes in a pretension of control but his rolled-up eyes told a different story. I had this man… It only took a few dozen full, slow, deep strokes before I was rewarded by a hot, goopy sliminess of a release. He rumbled at me, “puleeeze don’t stop that honey, puleeeze don’t…”

Fat chance of that. I kept up the motion, right through his vulnerable after-cum spasms while he winked one squinted eye open to see my own eruption-he perfectly xslot giriş well knew the effect his implanted, spewing dick had on my prostate- and my rotations roiled my sensation of climax for his added satisfaction. He reached the big-boned fingers of his hand to my mushroom head and swirled the goo marking me as totally dick-whipped. As he intended.

We fit. And, we knew it.

Boy pogo’d up and down by the stove, impatiently demanding pancakes from his aunt’s griddle. Holding a plate in one hand and fork in the other, ninja-turtle do-rag flapping hilariously, he was impossible to avoid laughing at as Cal and I exited our upstairs bedroom and descended after a buddy-shower wake up following the morning fuck.

The Boy’s loose white boxers, in mimicry of his idolized uncle, provided the ball-of-energy’s only other covering and the little man took satisfactory note of their like outfits as we sniggered at his antics. Cal’s own sagging, over-sized boxers mostly hid his recently sated snake behind only a minimally gapped opening due to it’s resting mode, now. God, what a hunk I had married.

Attempting nonchalance was not a tactic well-mastered yet by the lovable tadpole nephew and Sophie smiled at the seven-year-old’s transparency, instructing the boisterous boy to hold his plate for delivery of the blueberry-stuffed flapjacks.

Even at the early hour of 7 AM, Cal’s younger sis looked ravishing. Her short-cropped black hair, blood red-tipped and spiked, accentuated the two-piece red and black spiraled spandex body suit. Her ab fab abs smoothly accentuated the outfit and her make-up free beauty rendered regular mistakeness for Halle. The lithe young seductress was completely at ease in her skin and amongst her six brothers. My acceptance into the setting had pleased me no end. She and I communicated.

She was well aware of the effect she had on people. Those negatively affected were most commonly treated to a vamp-like act for the shock value. In our presence she exuded a motherly affection honed to an art since the loss of the family’s matriarch several years before.

Cassandra had doted on her husband, Calumet Senior, and when he had succumbed to a horrific head-on collision with a drunk driver a decade before, the aristocratic woman had desolately faded without her soulmate, diminishing and passing in her sleep then, leaving an indisputable legacy of elegance rarely seen outside European aristocracy.

Boy concentrated on getting to the breakfast table without spillage and succeeded in joining Vivian, his little sister and mini-him version of unassuming liveliness who now patiently awaited pancakes like the small lady she could occasionally pull off.

Mostly, she worked at keeping up with her older brother and the two shared a curiosity and frenetic mobility typical for Blackhearst children. Soph glanced at Cal and me noticing her mannered patience and told us, “Viv just let me know she is expecting company any minute…she wants to be ready.” Perplexed, we wordlessly asked ‘what was up’ by our faces and she added, “I have no idea-she just does this sometimes, you already know. I am sure we’ll find out- she sees everything. So, just watch out, boys. Come get your cakes.”

I gave my sis-in-law a cheek peck as I took the offered plate, scooping up a glass of oj as she poked me in the ribs playfully. ‘You gettin’ pretty used to the mood around here, aren’t you, boii?” she teased, pointing at my Cal and Boy matching boxers, “only took a month… Welcome home, finally.”

Cal grinned and quipped, “come on Sis, you know I’m keeping him barefoot and PG, and I don’t want a lot of crap in my way when I’m ready, right?” As he bit into his honey-slathered breakfast jacks.

“Well, big Daddy, you sho’ didn’t seem to have any o’that problem an hour ago, now, did you?” She smirked in the direction of my tush as she waited. My expected face, neck and chest flush was a source of joking discussion and it surfaced right on cue. Soph loved doing this and as the token white member of the family, the weakness was regularly provoked. I should be used to it and wasn’t mortified anymore, as in the beginning. Only embarrassed a bit. To everybody’s amusement.

The Blackhearst siblings were all close and each exhibited elevated sex drives. The tendencies were recognized and accepted quite matter-of-factly. They all had been brought up understanding the healthy benefits of a full sex life. I, on the other hand, had been raised in a puritanistic household, sex existing only in a world of sinful nastiness.

Procreation was the only use my folks and siblings had for the frowned-upon pastime. The totally debasing moments when I had been caught in the act of jacking off had bred my lasting reaction at the mention of the subject.

Cal’s family had entered me into ‘active rehab’ through their ease of manner and I was gradually responding. But the blushing thing was a source of high hilarity, xslot all the way down to the five-year-old Viv. While obviously never talking of sex (well, not intentionally), even the girl knew just how to cause me to redden by multiple methods. Damn it.

Just then, a bang and a crash followed by a rash of stringed cusswords erupted down the long hallway from the other brothers’ grouping of rooms. Vivian straightened up and put her fork down, “Here it comes,” was all she said, and we all watched the hall doorway. Within a few seconds, Doy’s door sounded open and we all watched as a very naked and aroused unknown young hispanic man appeared, highly agitated and in a hurry.

Doy came barging down the hall after him, cussing and waving, “You fucking asshole thievin’ bitch! Get the fuck out my house! Steal my shit and I’ma tear that ass up- get the fuck out!” he insisted. Doy was a volatile personality and easily riled. Right now, he was hot. And naked. And, boy was his dick handsome when he was pissed off…I hadn’t noted this until now.

The typical overhung male family jewels waggled side-to-side, angrily, in mid-air, raising hell and dribbling spunk as it preceded the rest of the youngest brother’s body and head through the doorway, making for a surprising picture to our breakfasting selves. He rounded the corner and we saw his face matched his weiner… Swelled up, pissed-off and blustering. The girls just lowered their heads but us boys were looking.

The olive-skinned young man twirled in angst, sputtering ill-attempts at apologies, all very noticeably unaccepted by the erect Doy. He spewed cusswords and saliva non-stop as we watched, enthralled.

The smaller visitor abruptly realized he was on display in front of us, kids included. He turned deep shades of purple (this feature warmed my whiteboy heart) by the knowledge, attempted covering the teeny-tiny up-pointing sprig of a dick and managed to seek out a stilted request for his clothes.

Doy was having none of it. He reached out and grasped the little wank of a cock, manhandling the trick to the back door by pulling on it and physically ejected the object of his anger, slamming the heavy old solid door on the little butt still filling the doorway as it closed, not comfortable in his outdoor nudity.

A high little shriek matched the clank of the door as it slapped his ass and Doy turned on us, dick still fully erect and flopping madly, low-hangers bobbing. “What the fuck ya’ll starin’ at? The little thief-ass prick tried to lift my wallet right when I was pokin’ him, goddammit!” Had my iPad and iPhone already packed up and hid, too. I knew I shouldn’t trust the bitch- anyone with a two inch, on-hard dick’s always a thief. I always tol’ ya’ll that! Shit, I’m just glad I didn’t give the ho’ but two loads or he woulda’ got the damn TV.”

Suddenly remembering, he turned back and yanked open the door, “Where’d you hide my damn phone, wench?” But the boy seemed to be gone already.

This, all the while dripping an obviously interrupted load-dumping moment. We couldn’t tell which was pissing him off more- the thievery or the messed-up cum. His thick nine inch piece continued haranguing us by its wagging and upward arch, and the cum-laden ‘cussing’ it was still spewing was demonstrative.

Sophie reached over and handed her brother a dish towel, Cal and I and Boy couldn’t stop staring between both erupting heads, trying to understand. Viv just shook her pretty little head sagely at Boy and opined, “I know, I know.”

Doy disappeared, still pissed, down the hall and into the bedroom. Emerging again a minute later, hands filled with the trick’s clothes and shoes, he strode barefooted to the door, exited, pretty bare ass bouncing cutely behind him and calling loudly for Aloysius, the family’s nubian goat.

We tried to finish our fast-cooling pancakes and make sense of the situation in the post-tirade calm but found the blow-up too funny to ignore, all but Boy and Viv losing our appetites. We were roaring over the happenings and I was particularly vocal about the mini-dicked boy’s blushing episode. Cal and Soph allowed that his was worse than my own, by far. I was satisfied.

Cal left for his study to do some work and the rest of us cleaned up. Little Viv thoughtfully worked on her iphone and Boy went outside to find out the happenings there.

A half hour later, Soph was on her way out the door to several of her day’s errands, still smiling at the episode. Viv hadn’t looked up once from her phone, completely absorbed, so I thought to see if the goat friend of mine was still alive.

Nobody answered as I descended the backporch steps so I headed over to the neighbor’s yard where the social goat commonly slunk off to for “talks” with the Missus Brown. The two had an understanding of some sort and I had overheard some amusing goat-on-woman dialogues more than once.

I found Aloysius tied to a tree on the side of the house, pawing at the little trick’s clothes as he dug asparagus stalks from the pockets and inside the wrapped clothes where more had been stuffed. In digging out the delicacy, of course, the clothes had been very thoroughly pawed and gnawed to shreds. Clever, I thought, but why hadn’t Farmer Brown had a fit over this, per usual?

Sticking my head around the front corner of the old farmhouse, I noted the absence of the Missus’ car, so that answered one of my questions. Stepping back between the hedge and the side of the house heading back to the goat ‘s picnic site, I heard a muffled sound from the open window and drew closer to see in it.

There, lazing back in an easy chair, spread-legged, head lolled all the way back, arms on the armrests, was a still naked Doy, moaning to the tempo of an ongoing blow job being expertly administered by a totally busy Farmer Brown. Ha, I thought. You Go, old boy. The man was amazingly bent over Doy’s full dick, slow-sucking the thing, seemingly oblivious to anything but that good hard-on. Can’t blame the old guy for that, I thought. Doy had no problem with it by the look of things.

Interested, I decided to watch a bit. Another surprise, I told myself. These country folk sure were innovative. And uninhibited. At least the menfolk were proving to be. The older man knew his way around a dick, now, to be sure. He worked the thing for several minutes before Doy finally warned the old gent to get off it, and they and I watched as that dick popped off several good arcs of cum while Doy gripped the chair and I quietly backed off, returning to our house. Things that make you go, “Hmmmm.”

When I entered, there was Viv, now busily punching buttons. She looked up as I opened the door and waved me excitedly over. “Hey, Viv, I didn’t even know you had a phone. When did you get that,” I asked her. She grinned at me conspiratorially and pointed at the screen, “Uncle Jake, this is Uncle Doy’s. I took it out of that man’s pocket when I saw him put it there and I set up the iPad for skype- look what came up.”

I was amazed as I came over and viewed Doy’s shadowy bedroom the hour before breakfast. The five-year-old tech wizard had ably set the scene. As I watched, Doy and the kid awakened from the night, some inaudible pillowtalk going on; the boy went into the bathroom awhile, then Doy did so afterwards.

The trick proved mighty curious while alone, poking through various drawers and pockets, just spotting Doy’s pants as the younger brother opened the bathroom door, re-entering to his desired pusuit of hitting the little butt noticeably distracting him. Doy missed the trick’s cleverly strategic drop of the pants close to where he placed his head for the upcoming reaming.

Doy got lined up behind and slightly out of the picture frame. The proceeding fuck was heard but not seen and the next minutes showed no hard core porn shots (thank goodness) due to poor positioning, but the backdoor work Doy was doing was quite audible and at the 9 minute mark, we watched as the boy reached out for Doy’s discarded pants. Carefully covering his act of removing the wallet, just as Doy had accused. As he put it into his own shorts pocket, Doy apparently opened his sex-blinded eyes and saw the action. All hell broke loose as Doy knocked the kid from the bed, crashing to the floor, and we all knew the following occurrences.

Wow. No wonder little Viv had predicted the future. She had watched the whole set up by the scype connection.. I could never have thought of it, let alone carried it out. The ‘why’ of the matter didn’t occur to me…

A little later, with Viv disappeared to her next plan for her five-year-old agenda, Doy swept in the back door looking much relieved and much quieter. Still completely nude. Happy to find his missing iPhone, he settled at the kitchen table, half-hard dick lolling to the side on his thigh, uncaring for his uncovered state. He told of his packing of the little thief’s clothes and shoes with the asparagus. Aloysius had thoroughly enjoyed the filling treat, he informed me.

Unable to help myself, I had to ask how he had convinced the old farmer to part with his precious crop. Doy smugly replied, “we bartered for it.”

Unashamedly nude and at ease in front of me, I should have figured his openness. As I looked at him funny, he replied to my unasked question, “Hell, Jake, that old dude? That wasn’t no deal. He gots those blue pills and I let him suck my dick for trade on the greens so it was all good. He was wankin’ that big ole’ man dick off when I left, like he likes to do, so…” He winked, stood up, wagged his happy dick at me, slapped playfully at my crotch and disappeared for a shower. With his phone…

Cal wasn’t going to be interrupted, as borne out by his brush-off of my shoulder rubbing when I tried to tempt him a little later into conversing, mumbling about deadlines and such, so I retreated back to the kitchen. Viv was in her room singing along with some Nickelodeon kid’s show and I suddenly wondered about the erstwhile Boy. Hadn’t seen him since he had left out the backdoor awhile before. I better find the imp or he’ll have gotten into something no good, I figured.

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