At the Pool with Uncle Tony.

[MAXXXX100]

A Day at the Pool​

The sun was blazing like a disco ball in the sky, and the community pool was packed with kids cannonballing and old folks doing their best not to slip on the slick tiles. I was 19, home from college for the summer, and my Uncle Tony—big, thicc, muscled, and hairy as a bear in a barber shop—had dragged me along for a "family day" at the pool. His new girlfriend, Sasha, was tagging along, and let me tell you, she was a knockout. All curves, big sunglasses, and a neon pink bikini that screamed, "Look at me, but don’t stare too long or you’ll trip."

Uncle Tony was strutting around in his red swim shorts, his barrel chest puffed out, black beard glistening with pool water, and hairy legs like tree trunks stomping through the shallow end. The man was a walking testosterone ad, all 6’3” of him, with a bush of chest hair that could double as a bird’s nest. Sasha was splashing him playfully, her laugh like a bell, and he was eating it up, flexing his biceps every chance he got. I was just trying to keep my sunglasses on and not die of secondhand embarrassment as he attempted a belly flop that sent half the pool water airborne.

“Kid, you gotta live a little!” Tony bellowed, tossing me a beach ball that I fumbled into the deep end. Sasha giggled, adjusting her bikini top, and I swear the lifeguard nearly fell off his chair. The day was a blur of sunscreen, chlorine, and Tony’s booming laugh as he tried to teach Sasha how to do a backflip off the diving board. Spoiler: she nailed it; he ate it. Hard.

By late afternoon, the sun was dipping, and we were all pruney and starving. Tony clapped me on the shoulder, his meaty paw nearly knocking me over. “Change room, kid. Let’s get out of here and grab some burgers.” Sasha winked at me as she sauntered off to the women’s locker room, her hips swaying like a metronome. I shook my head and followed Tony into the men’s change room, my flip-flops slapping the wet floor.

The change room was a steamy, tiled echo chamber, smelling of sweat and cheap body spray. Tony was already peeling off his red swim shorts, humming some old rock tune, his back to me as he rummaged for a towel. I was minding my own business, or trying to, when I glanced over—purely by accident, I swear—and there it was. His junk. Fully shrunken from the cold pool water, it looked like a tiny pebble nestled in a jungle of black pubic hair. I froze, eyes wide, like I’d just seen a UFO land in the locker room. And, okay, maybe it was the shock or the raw confidence of the man, but I felt a flush of heat, and to my horror, I realized I was getting a semi, my own shorts tightening as I stood there, caught in the moment.

Tony caught my stare in the mirror and burst out laughing, a deep, rumbling guffaw that echoed off the tiles. “What’s the matter, kid? Never seen a pool prune before?” He turned, completely unbothered, and gave a dramatic shimmy, making his hairy thighs jiggle. Then his eyes flicked down, catching my not-so-subtle situation before I could snatch a towel to cover up. His grin widened, mischievous as hell. “Well, damn, kid, looks like you’re growing your own pool float! Don’t get too excited over my pebble now!” He cackled, tossing me a towel with a wink.

I choked on my own spit, face burning hotter than the sun. “Uncle Tony, oh my God, shut up!” I stammered, wrapping the towel around my waist so fast I nearly tripped. But I couldn’t help laughing too, the absurdity of it all hitting me like a tidal wave. The man had zero shame, standing there like a hairy Greek god, hands on his hips, grinning like he’d just won a comedy roast.

“Cold water’s a cruel mistress,” he said, still chuckling as he finally wrapped a towel around his own waist. “But don’t worry, kid. Sasha doesn’t complain about my pebble, and you’ll find someone who appreciates your… enthusiasm.” He cackled again, and I groaned, pulling my shirt over my head to hide my face. “You’re disgusting,” I muttered, but I was cracking up.

We met Sasha outside, her hair still damp and her sundress clinging in all the right places. She raised an eyebrow at Tony’s smug grin. “What’s so funny, big guy?” she asked, poking his chest.

Tony slung an arm around her, still chuckling. “Just bonding with the kid over the perils of pool shrinkage—and his, uh, growing admiration,” he said, dodging my attempt to elbow him. Sasha snorted, rolling her eyes. “Oh, Tony, you’re hopeless. Let’s eat before you traumatize him any more.”

As we headed to the burger joint, Tony ruffled my hair, his voice low and teasing. “Don’t worry, kid. One day you’ll have a pebble and a pool float to laugh about.” I shoved him, laughing despite myself, while Sasha shook her head and led the way, her laughter floating back to us like summer itself.

 

[Cllm2296]

I need mooooooreeees

 

[MAXXXX100]

Does this need the part 2 ? - 10 likes to get it

 

[Sexy123789]

We need to see if Tony grows at all. So hot!

 

[MAXXXX100]

6 more likes to get a part 2

 

[MAXXXX100]

A Night at Uncle Tony's​

After the burger joint, the sky had turned a deep purple, stars poking through like pinpricks. It was late, and Uncle Tony’s place was closer than mine, so he insisted I crash there for the night. “No sense driving half-asleep, kid,” he said, his voice still carrying that teasing edge from the pool. Sasha, curled up in the passenger seat, yawned and agreed, her sundress now swapped for a loose hoodie that still somehow made her look like a magazine cover. I didn’t argue—Tony’s house was a sprawling old place with a guest room that beat my dorm’s lumpy mattress any day.

We pulled into his driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires. The house smelled like cedar and faintly of Tony’s cologne, a musky scent that hit you the second you walked in. Sasha kicked off her sandals and flopped onto the couch, mumbling something about needing a nap. Tony tossed me a water bottle from the fridge. “Guest room’s ready, kid. Don’t stay up playing video games all night,” he said, winking as he headed upstairs with Sasha trailing behind, her hand lazily in his.

I crashed hard, the day’s sun and embarrassment knocking me out cold. The guest room was cozy, with a creaky wooden bedframe and a quilt that smelled like lavender. I don’t know what time it was when I woke up—early, way too early, the kind of early where the world’s still gray and quiet. My mouth was dry, and I needed a glass of water, so I shuffled out of bed, rubbing sleep from my eyes, wearing just my loose cotton boxers, and tiptoed down the hall toward the kitchen.

The house was dead silent, except for the faint hum of the fridge. I was halfway down the stairs when I heard a soft creak from the living room. Curious, I peeked around the corner, and—holy hell—there was Uncle Tony, stark naked, standing in the dim glow of a floor lamp like some kind of hairy statue. His back was to me at first, broad and muscled, his shoulders like boulders under a thick pelt of black hair that trailed down his spine. Then he turned slightly, and I got the full view. His cock was hard, standing proud, about the size of a cocktail wiener, roughly 4.5 inches long—four times bigger than the shrunken pebble I’d seen at the pool. It was thick, veined, and nestled in that same jungle of dark pubic hair, a striking contrast to the cold-water shrinkage from before. His thighs, massive and dusted with more hair, flexed as he shifted his weight, and his chest—God, that chest—was a wall of muscle, the hair curling across it like a map of some wild forest. His beard, still damp from a shower, caught the light, and his arms, thick as tree branches, hung relaxed at his sides, one hand casually scratching his hip.

I froze, my heart hammering, caught in that same weird mix of shock and something else I didn’t want to name. The sight of him, so raw and unapologetic, hit me like a freight train, and to my horror, I felt a stir in my boxers. Before I could process it, my own hard-on sprang up, poking out through the fly of my boxers, exposed and painfully obvious. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as Tony’s—smaller, less commanding, but there it was, betraying me in the worst possible moment.

Tony’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto mine as the floorboard creaked under my foot. His face split into that mischievous grin, and he didn’t miss a beat. “Well, damn, kid! Told ya it gets bigger—see how much bigger? Take a closer look!” He let out a booming laugh, giving a playful thrust of his hips that made his cocktail-wiener-sized cock bob, making no attempt to cover himself, completely unbothered by his own nudity. Then his eyes flicked down, catching my situation, my hard-on sticking out like a sad flagpole. His grin widened, eyebrows shooting up. “Well, look at you, kid, pitching a tent! Not quite the heavy artillery I’m packing, but you’re working with something there!” He cackled, hands on his hips, his own erection still front and center like it was the star of the show.

I wanted to die. My face burned hotter than a furnace, and I fumbled to shove myself back into my boxers, stammering, “I—I just needed water!” My voice cracked, and I pointed lamely toward the kitchen, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.

Tony’s laugh filled the house, that deep, rumbling sound that echoed off the walls. “Relax, kid. Morning wood’s a fact of life. You’ll get there one day.” He stood there, still not covering up, his hard cock unapologetically on display. “Don’t tell Sasha I’m wandering around like this—she’ll make me sleep in the garage.”

I bolted for the kitchen, my pulse racing, grabbing a glass and filling it with shaky hands. Tony followed, still chuckling, his nudity as bold as ever. “You’re too easy to rattle, kid,” he said, leaning against the counter, his hairy chest and hard cock still fully exposed. As he clapped me on the shoulder, his hand warm and heavy, I noticed he was still rock hard, his 4.5-inch erection standing firm. The sight sent a jolt through me, and to my absolute horror, my own cock jumped, instantly hardening again and poking back out through the fly of my boxers, this time their was very noticeable heavy leaking of pre-cum that started to drip to the floor

Tony’s eyes flicked down, catching it immediately, and he let out another booming laugh, slapping his thigh. “Kid, you’re killing me! One look at the big guy, and you’re ready for round two? You gotta get that thing under control!” He grinned, shaking his head, completely at ease while I stood there, mortified, my face burning as I tried to cover up again.

I groaned, hiding my face behind my glass. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack, Uncle Tony.” But I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out, the absurdity of it all hitting me again. He shook his head, still chuckling. “Stick with me, kid. You’ll learn to roll with the punches—and the morning surprises.” As he wandered back upstairs, he turned back with a smirk and said, “Hey, kid, why’d the cock crow so early? ‘Cause it’s got a lot to stand up for!” He cackled at his own terrible joke, his laughter echoing through the house.

I stood there, glass in hand, shaking my head at the awful pun, wondering how the hell I’d survive another day with Uncle Tony’s larger-than-life everything.

 

[Rose1905]

Give us more please, I need it!

 

[Alex472]

Caliente