Here’s a long read for you if you have some time to kick back - the first mud story I wrote that I’m posting here - hope you like it!
‘Uncle’ Pete - Sun, Mud & Dad’s Best Bud!
Original story by Dirty Dave
“Really, Dad, I mean, I just don’t think…I just wouldn’t feel comfortable…I…errr…isn’t there some other way to reschedule this?”
“Bill, I’m so sorry to put this on you. I have go get this deal closed now by late Saturday, and I really want Pete to have this weekend up north…I think it will really be good for him.”
I began to get that sunken feeling in the pit of my stomach…I knew I should help my busy lawyer Dad, but was really hoping to chill in town over the weekend…a nice, hot summer weekend in the city all to myself…but not having any really good excuses I could cover with made my good-natured guilt rise to the surface.
Pete…or “Uncle Pete” as I had called him growing up, was one of Dad’s best buds from University days. Although he’d graduated with my pop, he’d never had the same success, experiencing one short-lived marriage, and moving from job to job over the years. He wasn’t a bad guy…just a little quirky. I wasn’t sure why the two of them had maintained their friendship, as they were so different now. They’d usually hang out over a couple of weekends each year - one in the winter going to a couple of hockey games, and then in the summer for a fishing weekend up at our cottage a couple of hours north of the city…the weekend Dad was now backing out on. I’d gone on a few of these weekends when I was younger, but it had been a while since I’d seen him…he just wasn’t someone I thought I could spend a lot of time with.
Uncle Pete had moved southwest of the city to get a job at a branch of a mid-sized insurance firm…and where the cost of living was cheaper. His latest trouble, aside from getting involved with a couple of small town bimbos, was a DUI. The suspension of his license was having a significant impact on his overall well being…apparently.
“Look, Bill, I know you have your issues with Uncle Pete, but he was really there for me in school, and I know this weekend would mean a lot to him. He wants to get his life back on track again…maybe you could be a good influence in my place. He’s not coming into town until around 7 on Friday…you could just pick him up and take him directly north, crash…get up for one day of fishing on Saturday, and tell him you need to leave first thing Sunday morning. If you get back to the city by early afternoon, I can take him for lunch…and that’s it! you’ll still have your Sunday afternoon”
“Okay…okay, Dad…I’ll help you out this time…can you send me some cash to at least cover some expenses?”
“Done!! Thank you so much for doing this for me…I really appreciate it! I’ll be in touch again in a couple of days to confirm everything.”
“Okay…just hope he’s at least had a hair cut since the last time I saw him…that mullet should have been long gone.”
“Ha ha…yeah…I agree…I think it is finally gone.” Dad acknowledged, trying to be reassuring.
“Well, at least he has some former glory days he can look back on.” I added, trying to think of some redeeming qualities. Uncle Pete had played football in high school, and had been on at least one wrestling team while in first or second year university. He was a big guy, with broad shoulders and a barrel chest with tank-sized arms to match. I remember when I was quite young, he was still quite fit…but that had faded over time to an ever-growing belly. I always found him somewhat attractive, knowing I’d liked guys from a very young age…but his awkward sense of humour, and sort of geeky personality were turnoffs to wanting to be too close with him. He was just over 6 feet tall with thick short brown-blonde hair that had thinned over the years. He had started wearing a moustache as his hair started to go…I recalled that his one feature that I admired…was the beautiful coat of hair over his body…especially over his chest and stomach…it had caught my eye more than a few times growing up. I recalled one time when he was visiting us at our family home for a pool party over a decade ago when I was in my mid-teens…puberty flowing, that he caught me checking him out while sitting in his swim trunks by the side of the pool.
My eyes had focused in on beads of sweat trickling down through his thick nest of chest hair and dripping on to his furry belly. I had looked up to his face after staring at his chest for a moment, and saw him leer at me quickly, and chuckle…just before he had gotten up…yelled “Cannonball!”, and jumped into the pool, making such a huge splash that he soaked about ten guests…and my mom, who was carrying a tray of sandwiches. She was not impressed. Pete had then swum over to me and tackled me…pushing my head under the water and towards his crotch. I had raised my head out of the pool quickly, gasping for a breath and pushing him away. “Tag! You’re it, Bill!!” he guffawed “try to catch me!” he continued…laughing and swimming into the deep end. A bit shocked and disgusted at him…and likely a bit turned on…I said nothing…and feeling a bit embarrassed by what he had done in front of the guests…got out of the pool, threw on a towel, and went into the house. Looking back out the deck door, I could hear my dad apologizing and saying just to ignore the “moody kid”. Moody?? Shit, I’d say more like horny. I went up to my bathroom to take a shower, and recall shooting a big young load of cum soaping up my dick and thinking of stuffing my face in Pete’s chest of fur.
I remembered these feelings now as I thought about Uncle Pete. The fascination had certainly worn off about him a very ling time ago as I started to meet my first boyfriends when I attended University. Any thought of older guys evaporated as my interests turned to guys my own age…although now heading into my later twenties, my appreciation for more mature guys was again starting to take more of an interest…especially thanks to a few random late night encounters at my favorite watering hole downtown. In any case…this weekend would come and go quickly, and Uncle Pete would soon be a part of my past once again.
Friday rolled around in no time. I had packed up the car in the morning and driven into work, ready to go to the bus station to meet Uncle Pete. I stopped the car across from the station and braced for the worst.
The worst arrived about ten minutes later, as I saw Uncle Pete emerge from the station, big knapsack in hand…although I was a bit taken aback with his appearance. Gone was the mullet, replaced by a razor sharp short cut with some hair on the sides…nothing on top. He wore military motif baggy shorts and a quintessential wife beater tank over which he sported a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His slightly larger gut was barely contained by his shirt. He was also wearing aviator-style sunglasses - with his slightly bushy mustache and scruff, he seemed to have stepped out of the seventies…but his muscular upper chest and arms were still as pronounced as ever. His ageing sneakers were the only part of his appearance that were ruining an otherwise acceptable look…but not a bad try for a guy who was around 53…my dad’s age.
“Oh, hey, Bill - this is really awesome of you to do this for me…I know it’s an imposition…but I just couldn’t bear the thought of missing this weekend away if possible.”
“No problem,” I replied, forcing a smile. Pete smiled back at me, locking his eyes on me for a moment, almost as if he was checking me out…odd…
“Looks like we’re in for some good weather over the next few days…humidity’s supposed to build in over the weekend, so it will be nice to be outside the city.” I added, trying to make a go at general conversation.
“For sure!” Bill chimed in…“hope the fish won’t mind the heat!”
The drive north took almost 3 hours with all the rush hour traffic. Conversation on the way varied from chatting about my dad and good times, to his new job and hating work, to the upcoming football season, as Pete was a big fan. I had nothing to add to that part of our talk…but we found common ground talking about baseball, which I very much enjoyed.
“So…any boyfriends at the moment?” This surprising question came as we were nearing the cottage and caught ke right off guard. I wasn’t even sure my dad had mentioned anything to him about me being gay, but there was the answer. I knew dad had had a bit of a hard time adjusting to my coming out, so he must have confided in Pete for some consoling.
“Ummm….no….not right now. I’m not really looking for anything permanent at the moment.” I replied…feeling a little embarrassed. Pete picked up on this right away.
“Oh…sorry, Bill. Didn’t mean to put you on the spot.” He apologized, rubbing his hand over his mouth and then his brow. He seemed a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden as well. “I mean, your dad told me about you some time ago. I really just wanted to let you know..as someone who’s known you for a long time…that it’s cool with me. I’m really open-minded that way. I have a couple gay friends, and know someone at work who’s gay, so just wanted you to know you that you can be yourself when you’re with me.”
“Err…I appreciate that,” I replied…wondering why he’d want to get this out in the open - I mean, what did it really matter?
“How ‘bout you, Pete, any babes in your life these days?” I shot back.
“No one permanent…but I have a couple on the go for when the going gets tough…if you know what I mean!” Pete replied, pulling his sunglasses down and winking at me…then rolling his eyes downward towards his crotch while he squeezed his big, hairy legs together.
“Nice…yeesh” I thought…it seemed typical for him, though, so I uttered a slight chuckle.
Just before getting to the cottage, we stopped for gas and got a bite to eat. By the time we rolled up the drive at our destination, it was getting dark, and the bugs were out in full force. We unpacked quickly, trying to swat off the bugs as we went.
“Looks like dad’s got the place well stocked with beer!” I noticed, seeing a two-four in the fridge, and seeing another in the pantry.
“Great…please toss me one…I’m beat, but I’ll have one, then hit the sack.” Pete said.
I joined him for one, as well. We watched a bit of tv - Pete sprawled out on our old family couch. Eventually I excused myself.
“Night, man. I"ll see you in the am…want to get an early start?” I asked.
“Let’s play it by ear…if I sleep in too late, just give me knock on the door.” Pete responded. “Guess you don’t need to be tucked in any more now, do ya?” He continued…winking once again.
“Ha ha…not unless you’ve got some good stories.” I responded - again not too sure how to take this. As he lay on the couch, he started to yawn, stretching his arms up resulting in his shirt rising up on his nice hairy tummy to reveal that beautiful coat of fur. I felt my dick move a bit at the sight of it.
“Rrrraaaaargh” was the noise he made as his arms came down and folded over his chest after yawning. “I may even stay right here…it’s a comfy spot.” He said, closing his eyes.
“Suit yourself” I put in, and turned to head into the master bedroom where I would sleep tonight. As it had an ensuite, I knew I woudn’t have to cross paths again with him this evening.
When I crawled into bed about 20 minutes later, I could hear Pete snoring on the couch…I popped in my ear phones and dozed off to sleep.
I awoke to sunlight streaming in through the bedroom window, and a warm summer breeze gently moving the curtains. The sounds of the birds chirping away was a welcome change to the din of city noise that I usually heard outside my apartment.
Getting up, and opening the door to the living room, I could see that Pete had finally made it to the bedroom last night. I was a little relieved, hoping I wouldn’t have to encounter him still on the couch as I started to prep breakfast.
Just as I was getting the coffee machine filled with water, though, I heard the guest bedroom door open, and out emerged a shirtless Uncle Pete in all his masculine glory. I gulped, looking squarely at his chest moving towards me, again with arms up and yawning.
“Morning, Bill…wow, do I ever sleep well up here…I am feeling so rested!” He smiled.
“Great, I’m really glad!” I said, trying to avoid staring at him too overtly. “Listen…why don’t you grab a shower and I’ll put some breakfast on the table…eggs and toast okay?” I asked.
“Awesome!” he replied, “be right back, and then I’ll help prep some stuff for later and get our cooler ready. I’ll try to keep enough room for some food aside for just the beer! Har har!” Pete guffawed, turning and heading for the guest bathroom and beginning to pull his baggy boxer briefs down as he shut the door behind him.
About 30 minutes later, we were ready to go. We’d managed to find enough supplies to get some lunch together…but Pete hadn’t been lying…there truly was a ton of beer packed! We hooked up our small outboard motorboat to the back of the Jeep and headed on our way.
The lake we usually fished on was only a twenty minutes or so jaunt up the road - Lake Castle Rock, named for the very prominent high rocky cliff section at one end of the it. The other end was surrounded by forest and some fields. At one time there was a quarry in the area, and a strength drained out of it where the water was always murky and muddy. Reeds and big low-lying mud pools predominated that area, and when I was younger, I remember they were always a good spot to find frogs and tad poles either for bait, or just for play.
There were only a couple of other boats out when we got there, so plenty of parking at the boat slip. We launched our craft and put in all our supplies. I’d remembered to bring a change of clothes as well as towels.
“Are you sure you want to wear hiking boots in the boat?” I asked Pete, who was basically wearing what head on yesterday, but with old jean shorts that had a few holes and rips on them…just revealing enough. He’d also found a straw cowboy-styled hat dad had in the cottage that he’d wear on days such as this.
“Yeah, I guess…” he replied, seemingly wondering what my problem was for asking him about it.
“Okay,” he continued, “I guess I better get in the back to steer so aren’t bow heavy.”
We drove out to a spot fairly close to the big rock to try our luck. Pete dropped anchor.
“Hey…pass me a beer, would ya….I’ll use my can cover” he stated. I was always concerned when there was drinking going on in the boat…but the cops never seemed to come these smaller inland lakes, so I wasn’t too concerned we’d be caught. The sun was getting warmer…and I kept myself covered with a long-sleeved shirt, sunscreen and a baseball cap. We had a few nibbles on our lines, but not much other action. About an hour passed…and so did the beers. Pete had already had 3 to my one…
“Aaaaaaarp,” He burped…“Well, there goes another one. I guess we should eat something…I’m getting a bit hungry. Do you think we should re-locate…what about trying the southwest end?”
“I’m not sure we’ll have much better luck down there…but sure, we can move. Might be easier to land the boat down there near the reeds if we want a break.” I offered.
Pete started up the motor and weighed anchor. This would have been another DUI had the cops been here to check on things, but I shut up about it and let him putter our aluminum boat down to the muddy end of the Lake.
He pulled up the motor as we got to a more shallow area, and I paddled us closer to shore.
“Sorry, Bill, I gotta take a wicked piss at the moment…not sure I can make it off the boat.” he admitted.
Slowly, he got up, and peeled his dick out of his jean shorts to start pissing off the side of the boat. I held on to the sides of the boat to steady us.
“Phew…that’s better.” he uttered, as I saw ounces and ounces of yellow liquid empty into the water.
“Protein for the water!!” he said, finishing off and stuffing his cock back in his pants. I had noticed he wasn’t wearing underwear.
“I’m getting so fuckin hot, too.” he mentioned…and off came his undershirt. He put his overshoot shirt back on, leaving it open to expose his hairy midrift.
“Why don’t you strip a bit, man, you’re looking a bit warm too,” he asked.
I took off my cap and removed my shirt, taking the opportunity to apply sunscreen.
Pete was looking at me…“You’ve filled out some, haven’t you?” He said, smiling. I worked out about 3 times a week now and had made progress with a trainer at the gym. My arms were now pretty muscular, and my chest was popping out a bit more, too, covered by a brush of brown hair that had started to come in more over the past couple of years.
“I guess so…I’m not 16 any more!” I replied…and this time I winked!
Pete smiled and looked down at me across the top of his glasses.
“Let’s head up the creek a bit and park, we can grab some of our lunch there,” he offered.
The sun was reaching up eve higher now, sparkling over the shallow waters near the muddy inlet and dancing on the pool just beyond the reeds of the creek. We paddled the boat up the narrow opening of the stream, with muddy banks on both sides.
The boat rubbed up against the bottom of the creek next to a short muddy embankment and came to rest. Pete pulled out some sandwiches and more beer, which he downed very quickly…aaaarrrrp, came another burp.
“You might want to slow down,” I said, finally offering some open comments to his drinking behaviour, “you’re going to get the spins in this heat.”
“Why…making you nervous?” he retorted back.
“Ummm…no, just airing on the side of caution for you, I guess,” was my comeback.
“Guess daddy’s boy is just looking out for me, huh?” he snorted out…seeming a bit ticked off…but I could tell this was due to the likely buzz he was getting off the beer.
“Whatever…” I replied, but the beer had gotten to me, too, and I had to pee now fairly badly. I got up off my seat and straddled the side of the boat, placing one foot on the soft, muddy bank to steady myself. The piss started to flow out of my shaft and into the mud below me, making a bit of a gurgling sound.
“Shit, now I have to go again, too,” Pete said, getting up and edging to his side of the boat, which tilted over a bit. His piss stream was more violent than mine, and arched its way towards my leg. It seemed as if he was aiming at me.
“Aaaaaaahhhhh,” he sighed, his barrel chest heaving as the golden liquid flowed. His piss was hitting the mud that was bouncing back up onto my leg. I was just finishing off…
“Hey…easy…” I asked, moving my leg out of the way of his urine…although I found it quite playful.
All of a sudden, as I was trying to move my leg back up to the boat, my foot started sinking into the mud. Pete pulled back a bit from where he was standing, and the boat moved. I could feel my body heading towards the mud.
Fwatch! I went down into the muck. Trying to grab the boat, I inadvertently pushed it off the bank. Pete lost his balance and fell back on to the boat seat, pants still open, and piss now on his jeans shorts.
“Crap!” I uttered, wet now and muddy up to my knees…but I was still sinking down. I had forgotten just how soft the bottom of the stream was here, with years of silt flowing down into this area from the old quarry…it was like sinking into quicksand. My running shoes were getting buried ever deeper, but I managed to pull my legs up slowly one at a time as I headed up the embankment. I pulled myself up a bit by grabbing on to some of the reads on the shore…but noticed right on the other side of the slightly higher bank was another big mud pit….
Pete had recovered himself on the boat seat and began paddling the boat back towards the shore, as it had slipped out a bit. I stood up slowly on top of the reeds, but the ground here was really unstable. Taking one step forward didn’t help, as the entire bank gave way and my whole body went over and down into the muddy pit. Both my arms went down into the muck, and my chest slid towards the silt. The cool, soft mud felt cool against my hot skin…but I was now covered up to my shoulders. I pushed myself up a bit, and edged back towards the bank.
“It’s a fucking quagmire in here, Pete…Should have known better,” I admitted.
Pete had the boat back to shore, but I could tell he was smiling…he was getting a charge out of my accident.
“Need a hand, Bill?” He thundered…laughing at me. “Didn’t expect we’d be mud wrasslin’ today…I usually reserve that for my party weekends in town.” He continued laughing…again..the beer…
“You want some mud wrestling…then come and get me, ya big goof!” I exclaimed, half jokingly and half pissed off.
Reaching down, I grabbed two heaping handfuls of soft muck, and one at a time, launched them towards him. Thwack! One handful landed partially on his leg…Thud! The other squared him on the bottom of his chin and dripped down onto his chest and slowly onto his belly and still open shorts.
“Shit! You fucker!” He yelled, making his way over the boat quickly and pulling it up further on shore behind him.
“You wanna play? Okay…let’s play…come on…go for it!” I beckoned…reaching down and reloading my hands with mud. Pete moved quickly towards me with a slight look of depravity and desperation in his eyes…I’d never seen this look on him before. I threw the mud at him, but aimed at his legs…then turned to get away from him as he started to move into the pit of soft goo.
“Aaaaurgh!” he grunted, falling towards me into the mud pit and going down face first, missing me entirely as his arms went outstretched towards me.
“You wanna play with me, then your gonna end up my bitch.” He grunted, lifting his big hairy body now covered in glorious muck up above his mouth.
“You know what, Pete, I think I’m actually going to enjoy this!” I said…letting myself go to get him worked up, and rubbing my hand over my growing muddy bulge.
“I’m gonna have to put you through some paces before you get that kind of relief, brother…come here!” he grunted at me, as this big slab of muddy beef moved towards me. I ducked to avoid him as he lunged at me again, but in doing so, got my shoe wedged in a pocket of muck. He didn’t miss me next time, as his massive muddy arms came up on my shoulders, pushing me down into the grunge.
“Ha ha…got ya now! Tag!!! You’re it! Remember that, Billie boy? I knew what you wanted that day…too bad you had to wait this long!” he taunted me. His big hand was now on the back of my head, and he began pushing my face into the mud, lifted it back up, then slammed it back down again. I could hear myself gurgling for breath as my mouth opened into the rich brown slime. I had to get him off me to catch my breath, so I elbowed him lightly in the groin and he reared up and off of me. Turning over on my back, I could see he was getting ready to pounce again, so I quickly grabbed another handful of mud and hurled it towards his crotch…with good aim!
“Ooooo….ugh…Shit…I felt that!” He uttered, moving back slightly. He stopped and looked down at his muddy shorts…groaning slightly I could tell he wanted to check his package, and he put both his hands in his pants to pull out his now muddy cock and balls. I was getting a raging hard on at this sight, and Pete knew it.
“Well, you like this scene, don’t you?” he said provokingly. He wagged his fair sized dick around with one hand as he pulled on his balls with the other.
Without saying a word, I rose and threw myself at his muddy chest…knocking him backwards in the process and falling down on his pecs. He grabbed both my arms and flipped me on to his back, his cock and balls now dangling just above my upper body. I reached down and grabbed two handfuls of muck and massaged a big glob onto his hairy chest while the other hand made its ways towards his face, coating it even more. His grip on my arms got harder…almost painful, as he began lowering his muddy member on to my pecs, grinding it in and getting hard.
“Oh fuuuuuuckkkk,” he moaned…“feels good in there…bet you’re loving this ya little shit.” he uttered, and indeed I was, as his mud covered cock started bobbing up and down in the pool of mud on my chest.
I was in ecstasy! I knew I was about to pop a huge load, but tried to control myself. Pete then turned my arms over and launched me on top of him, pulling my bathing shorts down in the process. Now what? He got still all of a sudden as I perched over his big muddy body. Just then, I felt a pierce of warm liquid over my back…he was taking another piss!
“Aaahhhh….thought I’d offer you a free shower to clean you up a bit,” he offered, still holding on to my arms. I arched my neck back and let his warm piss rush over my hair and trickle down the sides of my mouth.
“You really are a fuckin little pig, aren’t you?” he laughed, squirting out a bit more juice before releasing my arms. He then reached for a handful of mud with his right hand, coating my cock with the glorious muck.
“Oh Shit! Oh Shit!” I exclaimed, as the sensation of his muscular hand on my throbbing cock was sending me into a frenzy. He pulled me closer to his upper body, releasing my dick that ended up in between his huge muddy, hairy pecks. I started grinding on him…feeling my cock bury into the layers of deep dirt covered fur on his chest.
“Ah! Ah! Aaaaaa!” I was heaving as I started to cum…gobs of semen pouring out on to Pete’s mammoth pecs. As my balls emptied, I could also feel him squirming under me, his firm dick now rubbing on my muddy legs. I trapped his cock in between my limbs, and he began stroking. I jumped back off him, noticing the pool of my cum on his chest, wiped some of the mud off his cock, and took him in my mouth for a moment. The dirt made me start to gag, so I pulled off and grabbed two more big helpings of muck that I massaged back on to his cock and balls.
“Oh fuuuuuuckkkk…pump me, man, pump my big fuckin muddy dick” he screamed.
“Aaaaaa….oooooo…mmmmmmm…….here it comes” he proclaimed, as wads oh his semen spewed into the air. I positioned my face over his geyser as I continued stroking his dick. His cum went all over my face and chest.
“Oh…oh…ohhhhhhh” he moaned…relaxing his body into the mud as his orgasm ended. I collapsed back on to his mud covered chest as it heaved up and down underneath me…trying to process what had just happened…but also enjoying the moment.
Exhausted momentarily, I lifted my mud-covered body up and off of Pete and tried to stand up slowly.
“That…was fucking HOT, Pete…phew…where did that come from?” I asked.
“Beer, I guess, it gets me going sometimes,” he replied. “If it feels good, I like to go with it…and man…that felt damn good.“he said, starting to shake mud off his arms as be arose from the muck.
"Ready to do it again??” he continued.
Astounded, I turned to look at him, with his smile gleaming through from his mud splattered face.
“Shit…you’re kidding, right? I am taking a good break and getting cleaned up,” I mentioned, making my way over to the creek slowly, my swim shorts dangling off one leg. There were no boats anywhere in the immediate vicinity, so I edged over the bank and lowered my body into the brown water to start cleaning myself off…Pete joined me a few moments later.
Soon we had the mud off of us, and pushed the boat back out towards open water. Pete anchored a bit further off shore, and we moved our gear to the bow of the boat…spread out our towels in the midst of either side of the seats and lay down to rest for a bit, the warm early afternoon sun drying us off. I looked over to Pete, whose big chest was slowly heaving up and down. He had his sun glasses and hat back on, with the brim mostly covering his face…a couple of minutes later, I heard him snoring lightly…I closed my eyes and felt myself drifting off to sleep, a warm tingle in my balls thinking about what had just transpired…and anticipating what was yet to come.
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