The Lake House

"Big, right?" He repeated, elbowing my side for a response. He sat up a bit, bringing his lap above the water. Beaching his heavy endowment for my benefit.

"Yeah. Huge..." My eyes were locked on his prick, unfurling like a hose from his crotch. He was shaking it at me.

"Fucking A, boy. Biggest you ever seen?" He had a half-grin and his eyes were narrowed at me smugly.

"Yeah, definitely. Soft, I mean."

"Yeah, soft, that's a problem, huh. Little guy like you oughta see this thing fully boned up. I got an idea. That computer of your's got internet?" He gestured back towards the house. I nodded and he stood up, dripping wet cock and balls thrust near my face as he clapped his hands and beckoned me to come with him inside.

I don't know why I went along with it, but before I understood what was happening I was out of the tub, following his big hairy ass back up into the house, picking up our clothes along the way, and tracing his wet footsteps back to the living room. He grabbed my computer, had me log him in and took it back out of my hands. He snapped and pointed towards the kitchen. I shuffled out, bare ass like a slave, and I brought beers back from the fridge.. Rather buzzed, I giggled despite myself, feeling my nakedness, the awareness of my bare skin and my new friend's bare skin, his big hairy body, and the big fat rod, starting to shoot up from between his legs. My laptop looked tiny atop his bristled thighs, his half-mast hard-on bobbing against the keyboard as he loaded up a porno.

He was pleased when I hit a button on the remote and the filthy contents of the computer's screen were mirrored onto the TV.

"Aww I knew there was a reason I kept young guys like you around. Wonders of technology." He cooed sarcastically in his deep voice.

He leaned back on the couch and started to beat it to some very raunchy gangbang movie, some blonde slut getting destroyed by about 10 dudes. He cranked himself to a full erection.

"Now, look at that, That's a real man's cock. Biggest hard-on you ever seen, kid?" He demanded my attention again, his free hand pointing at his boner.

"Yes, biggest I've ever seen. It's... fucking massive, Mitch." I praised him, even though the words sounded pathetic the moment they left my dry mouth.

"Don't just stand there like a retard. Sit your ass done, and jack your little thing off." I was dumbfounded. He patted the spot on the couch right next to where his big hairy ass was sitting. When I hesitated, he pressed.

"Didn't you ever beat off with friends? That's all it is. Sit down and play with your little pecker. You know how." Confused and red-faced, I sat down beside him and began pawing at my crotch. I found myself becoming hard. Somehow, being with this big fat pushy old fucker, completely bare ass, getting put down and ordered around, having his big fat hog waved in my face, was making me hard.

"What's a matter, cantcha get it up?" He taunted me as I stroked myself to full tumescence.

"Come on, wack it off with me. Pull that pud with your bud." I gripped my little stiffy and began playing. Mitch was right- if there was anything Billy boy knew how to do, it was playing with his pecker. Might not be such a good fuck but he is one hell of a jack-off.

There was something so nasty about doing this with another guy - it had been probably 15 years or more since I had jerked off with friends, always in darkened rooms, all attention on the porno playing, and certainly no open cock-talk like Mitch was gleefully engaging in.

We sat knee to knee, his thick hairy thigh bristling against mine. He pulled an ottoman that we both put our feet on. His big thick hairy feet kept banging into mine as he pumped his prick.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw what he was working with. I could tell that once hard it was monstrously huge.

"Put your little foot over mine. That's it." He goaded as I laid my calf atop his, feeling the bristle of his leg hair. The closeness made my heart beat even quicker.

"Yeah, that's ok son you can look at my big one. I know you little fellas are curious. Check out that big dong, kid." His deep voice was breathy and insistent. I turned my head, gawking at it openly, in awe of the big staff Mitch was playing with beside me.

"Big, right boy?" Again he bade me praise his manhood.

"It's massive. It's... it's amazing." I fawned, my voice slurred.

"Yup. 9 1/2 fucking inches. Drives women insane. I can get any slut with this big hammer." He boasted while presenting it to me, showing off for me. He laughed as I watched his penis pumping, my mouth agape in drunken awe.

"Good boy, that's it. That's just how we'll do it. I'll watch the porno, and you watch my big fat cock." He snapped his fingers and pointed down at his groin.

"Eyes on my cock, boy." I felt flush with a queasy thrill, being ordered to stare at another man's dick as we both jerked off.

"Eyes on the cock. I don't want you looking at the porno, the porno's for the real man here, you look at my big fat hard-on, that's it, eyes on the cock, son." And I obeyed him. I focused on his powerful, hair-speckled fist pumping away at his thick rod. I ignored the cries coming from the video ganbang and listened instead to his bullish grunts and groans.

"I'm getting close, pal." He groaned. I sped up to meet him at the finish line.

"Fuck I'm gonna bust. Come on, shoot that little rocket, boy!" He yelled as he blasted, growling like a beast as he furiously squeezed out his orgasm, spraying his chest and belly with his thick white spooge. Whatever didn't land on his body splattered on the couch. His big leg kicked mine up into the air. His wild cries filled the empty old house.

I came in a close second, breathing heavily, panting, more restrained in my vocalization. We both kept pumping, the room loud with our breathing and the wet fleshy jerking as we fucked our hands, more jizz running out of our cocks.

After he came he stood up and reached to the pile of clothes I had brought up from the dock. My legs were still trembling, and I watched helplessly as he grabbed my own shorts from the floor. He proceeded to wipe his sizable load up with my shorts, smearing the khaki against his hairy barrel chest and big belly. He picked my polo shirt from the floor to swab at his heavy, deflating genitals. He wiped up all around his inner thighs, his balls, cock and thick bush as I watched. When he was done he dropped my cum-stained clothes to the floor and gave me a salute.

"Allright, I'm gonna hit the hay, kiddo. See you bright and early tomorrow morning." He then stomped upstairs, presumably to the guest bedroom.

After cumming I realized how wasted I was. Sprawled out on the couch I quickly succumbed to the spinning darkness of sleep.

When I woke up a blue pre dawn light was creeping through the windows. My computer was still on the TV, Mitch's porno movie now just playing a series of filthy ads. I was still spread out on the couch, feet on the ottoman. A dried up lake of semen on my belly and chest, tangled into the light brown hair of my happy trail and bush. I had a half-hard morning wood boner, which struggled to get halfway to my belly button.

I stood up with wobbly legs and bent down to close windows on my computer. For each porn video I'd closed, three new raunchy ads would instantly pop up. What sketchy sites had Mitch gone to? He had clearly let my computer get ravaged by adult video adware. I closed the laptop in frustration, three different ads cooing at me in ridicule.

I knew I had had to pee, hence the boner, but instead of turning on a light in the bathroom I just stumbled outside to the back porch and basked in the peaceful sounds of the still sleeping lake and forest. I stood there for a while until I became soft enough and enjoyed a nice long piss. Mitch was right about one thing- taking a leak outside was deeply satisfying.

Feeling better after relieving myself, I figured I would catch a few more hours of sleep in my own bed. When I got upstairs, I saw that Mitch had in fact helped himself to the master bedroom. Leaving the door open, he had apparently yanked off the comforter, put my pillows in a headlock, and passed out.

He was face down, his gigantic hairy ass pointing up, his big body spread out possessively over the entire King size mattress. I knew moving him would be impossible. And for some reason the idea of waking him up felt unthinkable. I looked at his bulky form a few more moments, his wide hips, broad hairy shoulders, the way his big form took up space.

I was too tired to be pissed. Sighing deeply, I crept to another bedroom on the second floor, the only other one that had a mattress on it. I drowsily attached a linen to it and got a pillow then went to sleep without any comforter or blankets, still buck naked.

A few hours later I was awoken by a booming voice.

"Allrighty, son, rise and shine." Mitch loomed over me, shaking my shoulder. He was wearing my forest green cashmere bathrobe, but had left it open, his big hairy hog hanging down to his mid-thigh.

He stood right at the edge of the bed, smiling down at me. His large penis swung back and forth as he shook me awake. I stared at it, my eyes wide. This was the clearest look I'd gotten at it, inches from my face and in the daylight. It was huge, a mighty tool with two equally large nuts, cock and balls all wreathed in a big bush of manly hair. Like a lion's mane.

I realized that I was naked too and reflexively covered myself with a pillow as I sat up.

"Oh come on son. No use in hiding it. Got an eye-full last night. 'Sides, not too much to hide, is there?" He cracked up at his own cruel joke. He was making fun of my penis size, just as he had last night. I laughed along sheepishly, my face warm with embarrassment.

"Sorry, just let me get dressed." I made to walk towards my bedroom, the one he had claimed for himself,

"Here. Throw this on" He tossed me the t-shirt he had been wearing yesterday. It smelled like him, sweat and cigars.

"That's all you need. Just us guys, right?" He looked down at me, arms crossed, exposed cock still swaying, waiting for me to put it on.

"Mitch, I don't -" I trailed off, hesitation in my voice. I used the t-shirt to cover my groin and he gently pulled my hands away.

"Pal, you got to learn to relax. It's about male bonding. Fellas bond better when their cocks are out, don't they?" I sat up in bed, hands at my sides, penis on display to him. Between my thighs it looked particularly small to me, mostly just a little pink peckerhead poking from my neatly-trimmed blonde bush.

"C'mon. It'll be fun, like last night." He insisted with a wink. When I didn't respond he nudged my shoulder.

"Billy I promise you, I am not offended by the sight of your little penis. Are you offended by the sight of my big penis? Does my big penis offend you, son?" He asked pointedly, spreading his robe open even more, putting his hands on his bare hips. He moved his waist back and forth to the side so that his heavy hanging hog shook.

"No... no Mitch." I lowered my eyes so as not to stare at his cock, looking at my own naked crotch instead.

"Good. Cause us guys gotta to let it all hang out." He said with a jesting twinge in his voice, stepping even closer to where I sat on the edge of the bed, shimmying his hips so that his big cudgel batted back and forth, nearly slapping me in the mouth. He patted the top of my head and turned away, letting me get up.

"Just the t-shirt, that's all you need. Now get that little butt to the kitchen and make us breakfast, the Bossman's starving." I reluctantly pulled his well-scented shirt over my body, looking in the mirror to see that it plainly left my pecker on display, poking out obscenely from beneath the hem, as well as my naked behind when I turned around. Letting it all hang out indeed. Somehow just wearing the t-shirt made me feel even more exposed than if I was fully undressed.

Downstairs I made a pot of coffee. I brought him a cup as he sat on the deck overlooking the lake, his big bare feet propped up on the railing. His robe was flung open, and I avoided looking directly at the chubby flaccid cock and big balls hanging between his hairy legs. He accepted the coffee without thanks, patting me on my bare rear end as I turned back to head back inside the house. Instead of being angry or offended I was secretly thrilled, feeling like a diner waitress being sexually harassed by a trucker.

I cooked a huge breakfast for both of us and Mitch set upon it with gusto. He talked about all of the work ahead. It felt strange to sit there on my naked bottom as I listened to him set out the days tasks.

"Figured you'd help out. Teach you a few things. We're gonna start with some demolition, clearing up the rotted wood and broken masonry on that front porch. You don't mind pitching in, do you boy?" I felt my stomach roll as I realized that this strange man would continue to push and take advantage of me as far as I was letting, and so far I hadn't found a limit to what I would accept.

"Sure thing Mitch." I answered, my voice weak.

Mitch went into my wardrobe and picked out a pair of shorts and tennis shoes, but I remained bare chested for the day's labors.

Mitch worked me like a dog in and around my own home. He did the stuff that took finesse or skill, but otherwise he directed me like a foreman as I performed all the grunt work. Mostly I was tasked with removing planks of wood from the front porch, filling a wheelbarrow with the debris, and emptying it into a dumpster one of his buddies had dropped off, parking it my drive. This took hours, completely exposed in the hot sun. He had me clean up after him or prep a work area, moving materials and tools to and from different sites, clearing other debris and hauling it off in a wheelbarrow.

My whole body was slick with sweat, and when I saw my face reflected in a window I realized I was covered in grime from the opened ruined wood and old stones. I looked at my unrecognizable reflection, like a photo of an Okie from the Dust Bowl, mesmerized, until Mitch barked at me to move my ass.

At one point I needed to clarify his instructions and called out his name, and he stomped over, poking me roughly in the naked chest.

"Now pal, I know you're the customer. But when we're working, I call the shots. I'm the man in charge. So I want you to call me 'Boss Sir.'' Two words, Boss Sir. Got it?" He spoke aggressively, as if this is something I should have known already.

"Uh, yes Boss Sir." He said "attaboy" and slapped me on the rear end, a vigorous swat that made me jump a bit. He had taken to regularly whacking me on the butt, sometimes in encouragement, sometimes to lightly chide me when he was displeased with my work. I can't say I didn't feel a little thrill from it each time, just as when coaches would pat our asses back in the day. Then as now it felt both rewarding, an expression of approval and intimacy, while also an assertion of authority.

A few hours later, Mitch took it one further after I bothered him again, asking him to explain a task.

"I'm gonna have to train you like training a kid." He grabbed the back of my shirt and pushed me up against the side of the house.

"Put your hands on the wall. Spread your legs open." I stared straight ahead, feeling his feet kick mine apart. Mitch positioned me like he was a cop.

Suddenly I felt his fingers plunge into my waistband, his hairy knuckles against the top of my butt cheeks, and he unceremoniously yanked down my shorts and underwear. For a moment I felt the summer breeze against my bare ass as it hung out, exposed, my pants and briefs at mid thigh. He gave me ten fast, harsh slaps on my bottom, hitting both cheeks at once with his big hand. I cried out for the last few.

He grabbed the back of the neck and squeezed, leaning into my face. He stared at me stonily for a few moments, and I actually trembled. Finally he spoke.

"Don't make me explain things more than once to you, boy." He shook his finger in my face like a scolding parent.

"Yes Boss Sir." I squeaked out. He stepped away and I waited there, hands still on the wall, a few seconds before sheepishly pulling my pants back up and getting back to work. After that point, Mitch would regularly bare my bottom and spank me whenever he felt I was goofing off or not properly paying attention. I even ended up over his lap a couple times that day, he was big enough to easily throw me in that degrading and helpless position.

He worked me to sunset, only releasing me to make us a lunch spread. At dusk we began drinking beers once more. I took a shower, cut short when he bellowed at me from the hall that he was starving and that I needed to "quit jerking that little thing and move my ass." I made us dinner, then we hit the hot tub.

Like last night, he stripped out of his clothes with no hesitation, and this time I quickly followed suit. I had never spent this much time naked with another guy. My friends in high school and college had gone naked after long nights of drinking, but never had we hung out, relaxed like this, while completely undressed. Even though it made me nervous and embarrassed, I also found it slightly exciting.

Mitch sat right next to me and slung his arm over his shoulder. Beneath the water I could feel his hairy leg pressed up against mind.

"You did good today, kid. Don't feel bad that I had to bare your bottom and take you over my lap a couple times. Sure as shit won't be the only time I have to give that little heiney a hiding. You're just not experience doing man's work, but you'll learn." He patted my knee, and I just nodded, not sure how to respond to this statement. It felt like half-praise, half-insult.

"'Love that picture of you two on vacation. The one a the little lady in the bikini? No disrespect but that wife a your's has some grade A tits." As he spoke he idly scratched his own furred breast, digging his fingernails into one of his large maroon nipples.

"Thanks Mitch." He slapped my shoulder then laid his hand there, rubbing it.

"I'd love to get my lips on em. Suck on em for milk, ya now?" He laughed at his outrageous statement, and I just sheepishly chuckled along.

"She like it when you play with her tits?" I nodded and he elbowed me in the ribs.

"Tell me about it, buddy."

"Well, yeah she likes it when I play with them." I nervously admitted.

"I mean what do you do with em, suck on em, lick em, bite em?" He lolled his big tongue out at me to demonstrate and I felt myself blush. When I didn't answer he slapped my back hard.

"I'm horny, man! I'm fucking starving for pussy! Gimme details!" He lifted his ass out of the water, thrusting his crotch forward. His big ugly hog was half-hard.

Despite myself, I began to describe how I played with my wife's tits. The way I would take them both in my hands, gentry stroking the sides before heading to the nipple with my mouth. How she liked me to chew on them, gently at first but then roughly. We sat in the hot tub and Mitch peppered me with questions about our sex life. It started to feel like a police interrogation. Both our voices became ragged with lust, and neither of us tried to conceal the fact that we were both rock hard. I looked down- the tip of my erect penis just breached the surface of the water, whereas his long, heavy pipe stood up proudly, several inches above the water, pulsing as he drew the dirty talk out of me.

"It's OK if you chub up, buddy. It's just us guys." As I continue on divulging my sex life, we both lazily stroked our cocks every now and then, keeping them pumped up and edged.

Mitch wanted to know how and how often we fucked. Positions, if she went down on me or me on her. I divulged our rather lackluster schedule of fucking once every three-four weeks, how the stress of our jobs made anything more frequent impossible, which he groaned at in disappointment. I described a typical encounter, he had me detail it position by positon, and admit that I rarely lasted past 10 minutes if that. He even had me reveal to him my still-frequent masturbation habits. The man laughed at me openly as I answered his increasingly ridiculous questions about how I went about pulling the pud and how frequently, that I usually did it in the shower while naked or on the toilet, pants at my ankles. I admitted that I did it all the time, though- in an office restroom stall, in my car on my commute.