From: nogarder@ix.netcom.com(*** )
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: The First Hunting Trip
Date: 15 Feb 1996 23:14:11 GMT

			  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 seven and a half 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 eighteen, his body was approaching the peak of its 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 ten 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.