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The United Way

by Mike Hunt


I've decided technology is fucked up. Like computers, for instance. I don't like them. Did I ever tell you about the time I mixed up my folders and started sending my stories to people who had just written to say "Wow" and didn't really want the stories showing up on their machines at work? Funny thing is the people who *wanted* the stories and didn't get them were even more pissed! Hey, and how about the time I mixed up folders with my neighborhood garden club newsletter? I don't even want to talk about it! Computers. Except for this free smut, who needs them? Like spreadsheets are fun or something. Like they make you smart or something. I'm sure you know the richest guy on the planet is a nerd who runs a Seattle software company that's trying to take over the world. And sometimes he even smells bad! Hey Bill! It's easy! TAKE A SHOWER! You'd think his computers would tell him how to fix his dandruff if they're so fucking smart. At the very least these machines should be able to tell me your age, and if you're over 18. You're supposed to be if you're reading this stuff. Over 18? Computers can't tell me shit about you. Hell. They don't know shit about me! I just got my AARP card. Computers are fucked up, you know? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The United Way - by MIKE HUNT -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Some of our best friends in the neighborhood are Pete and Mary Sikes. They live about 4 doors up in the little green house on the corner. We've been friends for a few years, ever since we moved into the neighborhood. Pete and Mary stopped by to introduce themselves on the second or third day we were in the house I think. They thoughtfully brought over some pizza and a few beers; I guess it was obvious that we weren't exactly ready to entertain yet. Hell, we'd barely found the silverware. Over the past couple years we've gotten to know them pretty well. We see each other every couple of months for a movie, or to go bowling, or to rent a video, or just for dinner. We've known they've been trying to have kids for several years. June and I don't want any of the little buggers, but Pete and Mary are just the opposite. They'd make great parents, you can just tell. It was last Friday when I stepped in it. I mean, I didn't know. I casually asked how "the project" was going. That's how we referred to their attempt to have kids. The four of us had talked about it for many months and they weren't shy about telling us what was going on. They had progressed from making love whenever they felt like it (no pregnancy) to making love on the day when she expected to ovulate (nope) to taking her temperature to know when the egg dropped (nada) to going to a fertility clinic (nothing). We hadn't talked to them since their appointment last week. And that's when, as I say, I stepped in it. We had Pete and Mary over for cards. The four of us sat in the game room. June was across the table from me; Mary was to my left. "So how goes the project?" I asked. Silence. Suddenly I noticed Mary's eyes welling up, a tear pooling at the pocket at the bottom of each eye socket. She waited for a moment to try to regain her composure, then excused herself and walked into our kitchen. "Oh shit," Pete said. "Whad I say?" I asked. "Hell, I'm sorry, I..." Mary was dabbing at her eyes in the next room. June pushed back her chair to get up and help, but Pete motioned her to stay. "We went to the clinic on Friday. They checked both of us out. It seems, ah, we can't have kids. Ever." "Oh no," June exclaimed. Her hand fluttered to her mouth. "What did they tell you?" "Well, she's fine. It's, ah, me. They tell me I'm shooting blanks. A natural born, perfect vasectomy poster boy, that's me. Sperm count, minus 14 or something." "I don't understand," June said. "You had a vasectomy and you're trying to have children?" I turned to my wife, who can be a little thick at times. "No, dear, he didn't have a vasectomy. It's just as though he had a vasectomy, but it's natural." I didn't want to say it, but I wasn't sure she understood. "He's sterile." I turned to Pete. "Isn't there anything they can do?" "Oh sure. For $7000 I can have an operation which has a 10% chance of being successful, and has a 10% chance of leaving me impotent. No thanks. For $15,000 we can get in vitro fertilization, 5 tries. If I have $15,000 lying around somewhere, wop me in the head, OK?" Pete was bitter. Mary returned to the table. Her eyes were reddened. Now we knew why. "Isn't it terrible?" she said. "No children." "You could adopt," June said, trying to be helpful. The tears came back in Mary's eyes. This time she stayed in her seat and dabbed at the moisture with a napkin. "We've talked about that, and we probably will. But we really wanted to have our own. Now we never..." Her voice trailed off. "How can it cost that much to get some sperm from a sperm bank and, uh, put it in, or, I mean, do whatever they do to, you know,..." I was fumbling my words. Pete answered me. "It's not the sperm. It's all the fucking doctors, and the tests, and the hospital, and the lab, and the specialists. It's ridiculous. If I had the money, you know, I'd probably do it. But I don't. So now our option is to let her loose on the street and hope she gets lucky." "Peter," she screamed in mock anger, "Stop that!" She slapped him on the arm, but at least she cracked a little smile on her face. "Anyway, I couldn't just 'do it', you know, with a stranger. I mean what if he had some terrible hereditary disease, or his father was a serial murderer or something. I'd have to know the guy and be comfortable with him. And know his medical history, and all. "I have my records right upstairs," I said gallantly. Mary blushed a deep red and let out a little yelp. June kicked me under the table. "Hey, hey, it was a joke. For god's sake, take it easy you all. Where's your sense of humor?" It was Pete who thought about it and spoke up. He said, "You know, Mike, you may have something there." Mary's blush got even a deeper shade, if that was possible. "No, no, listen to me. I don't mean that you, uh, you know, I mean, you could be a sperm donor. You could be the father, sort of. I mean, we do know your medical history and your personality ... but we can overlook that ... and, well, it sort of makes sense on a lot of levels." It was my turn to be uncomfortable. June looked at me with that "What the fuck is this?" look in her eyes. I didn't respond. I didn't say anything. I couldn't. My wife was going to kill me after they left, I just knew. Mary said, "You know...." and her voice trailed off. I tried to change the subject, but both Pete and Mary wouldn't allow it. Grasping at straws, I thought. Desperate, I thought. Crazy, I thought. They talked about it for the next hour, back and forth across the table. I sat quietly, only speaking when directly spoken to. June didn't contribute much either. But Pete and Mary were transfixed with the idea, and a short 60 minutes later were practically begging me to help them. June nodded, giving me permission. The plan was that I would jerk off in a cup, give the sperm to them, and they would, uh, apply it. No doctors, no hospital, no lab tests. Just neighbors helping neighbors. Sort of like the United Way. A week passed, and June and I went over to their house. This was going to be weird. We socialized, and the subject of our mission for later that evening scarcely came up. We joked about all the things we usually joked about, drank a bunch of wine, and had a good time. About 11:00 Pete announced that it was about time to "get started." Mary said her goodnights, and went into their bedroom to change. Pete followed her, and returned a moment later in his PJs. He had a plastic cup in his hand. "Here, fella," he said, offering it to me. "The bathroom is just down the hall." June just smirked at me, as if to say "See what your big mouth has gotten you into." I knew she'd never let me live it down. I walked to the bathroom. I unzipped my pants and let them drop. Pete had thoughtfully provided some pornographic magazines, and I leafed through them as my tool began to enlarge. Dicks in pussies, dicks in mouths, dicks in assholes. Pretty girls with cum on their face. Girls with two guys fucking them. I turned page after page of porno pictures, getting an erection and stroking myself. But I wasn't here for pleasure, I was here to do a job. And I had practiced for this since I was 12! I came in the little cup, cleaned myself up, and pulled up my pants. I knocked on their bedroom door. Pete cracked the door open and looked out at me. I offered him the cup. I could see Mary sitting on the bed in a see through nightgown, but I couldn't see all that much in the dim bedroom light. I tried, but I couldn't tell if she had her panties on because the blankets were bunched up in front of her. "Wow," Pete said, looking at the cup. "Good volume. Good job." He winked at me. I didn't know if he was going to use a turkey baster or what. I didn't want to know. "I feel like an idiot," I said. "And you're welcome." June chimed, "We'll see ourselves out. You guys have fun." We left. A couple of weeks went by, and June called Mary. Nothing yet. We got together the following weekend, and everyone decided it was too soon to tell anything. But as more weeks passed, it became apparent that the experiment had failed. We repeated it a month later, again on a day when Mary was scheduled to ovulate. With the same results. Now June had relaxed with the idea, and so had I. In fact, the idea of Pete dripping my cum into his wife's cunt was kind of a turn-on for me, although I wouldn't say anything of the sort to my own wife, of course. Mary and I seemed to form a closer bond than just neighbor to neighbor, as well. I suppose it was only natural. Here we were sharing the most intimate of experiences. Sort of. The experiment failed again. And failed again another month after that. Mary and Pete and June and I were at our house. The Bulls were on TV again, and we had a big screen and they didn't. We all had a few beers as we watched the game. The subject of the experiment came up, of course, and we talked in some detail about it. "Maybe we're doing something wrong," Pete said. "Maybe you pay for all those specialists for a reason. Maybe there's some special technique, or something..." "Don't be silly," June said. "People have been making babies for thousands of years. How hard can it be?" I guess she realized the insensitivity of her remark just as the words left her mouth. "Oh. I'm sorry," she said softly. She was talking to a couple for whom it wasn't just difficult, it was impossible. I tried to backpedal and lighten the conversation. "It's hard," I said, with a leering emphasis on the word "hard." I smiled at no one in particular. "Oh Mike, you're incorrigible," June said. "Still. Maybe there's something else we should be doing that we're not doing." Mary spoke softly. Her eyes were cast down, averting contact with anyone else in the room. "There is," she said, almost in a whisper. "I've been thinking about it." She paused. We were all silent. "Maybe we should just try, you know, the old fashioned way. I mean, sort of, well..." The words hung in the air. It took June a moment to realize what Mary was saying. When she did her eyes got wide, and blinked rapidly. Then she said, "You don't mean.... I guess you do mean.... I mean...." She was at a total loss. It was Pete who spoke next. He also looked down as he talked. "Mary and I talked about it. Maybe, you know, maybe it would work... I mean, we would understand if you don't want to. Or if June would object," he added quickly. "Totally understandable. It's just that this is so important to us." It was so quiet in the room you could have heard a sperm swimming. June broke the silence. "This is bizarre," she said. Mary spoke quickly. "See, Pete? I knew it. It's too much to ask." Her eyes welled with tears. It was pitiful. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to cry. And I understand. Really." A tear dripped down her cheek. June must have been deeply touched, because she said "I suppose it could be OK. I mean, only for the experiment. You know. Not for sex." She paused. "I would at least think about it." She thought a moment. She looked into Mary's reddened eyes. Then she said "If it's OK with Mike." Yahoo! Whoopee! Zowie! I kept my composure as best I could, and although my voice cracked as I said it, I said "I could do that." I smiled at Mary, who smiled back. I figured we'd set up a "date" and consummate the dirty deed later in the month. I asked, "So how do we set this up? I mean, when, and where, and... uh, you know?" I paused. "When's the time, I mean when's she ready?" I asked Pete. I stumbled over the words. Big surprise. It was Mary who answered the question. "Actually, today's the day," she said. "But I know that's rushing things, and you guys probably want to talk it over and all. So we can wait Ôtil next month, if you want." I shrugged. June said, "It's really OK with me. Sort of. Might as well get it over with." "You mean, tonight?" My mouth dropped open. My dick began to get erect inside my pants. "Yes, tonight, lover boy," Pete said. "You guys can just, uh, retire somewhere, and June and I will wait here." "Oh no," June said. "If this experiment is going to happen, I'm going to be part of it. I have a stake here, like not letting my husband get involved with another woman." I didn't see the logic in it, since she had just given me permission to fuck Mary. But what was I going to say? "What do you mean, hon?" I asked. "I mean I'm going to be in the room. I want to make sure that it's just for procreation, not for recreation." "You're what? You're going to be in the room?" You could have knocked me over with a feather. I lost my erection. "That's right. Or no deal. Deal?" she said. I looked at Mary, then at Pete. June was driving a hard bargain, so to speak. "It's OK with me if it's OK with you guys." They had no choice. Neither did I. We all finished our beers and headed for the bedroom. June gave Mary a nightgown that didn't reveal much. She decided that I would wear pajama bottoms. Mary and I climbed onto the bed. June took one of the two reading chairs at the far end of the room. Pete waited outside. I sat next to Mary and waited for my body to take charge. Nothing happened. I mean nothing. No problem, I figured. I thought of a dirty movie I had just seen. Nothing. I remembered the time I got jerked off by a nurse. Nothing. After several minutes June called out "What's going on?" "Nothing." I said. "Nothing." Mary added, "Boy I'll say." Thanks. As if I didn't already feel the pressure. I guess that must have been it, that and the fact that my wife was at the foot of the bed, waiting for this to be over. "I need a little help, here," I said. "Do you mind, hon?" It had been long enough that she could see I wasn't lying. "Go ahead," she said. I took my flaccid penis out of my pants. Mary stared at it. I reached up and cupped her tit. She had a nice set; they were still round and firm. I felt her nipple become aroused. I wished I could say the same for myself. I said "Maybe if you touched me..." Mary's hand reached for my tool. She took hold of it as though it was a month old banana. Nothing. She stroked me up and down. Nothing. I reached for her pussy, and her legs parted. Nothing. "What's going on?" Pete called in through the door. "Nothing." June shouted back. "Absolutely nothing." "Why not?" he asked. "Do you want to tell him?" she asked me. I shook my head. "My wonderful husband who gets horny at the sight of a bagel can't get it up." "Jesus," I exclaimed. "Give a guy a break." "Really?" Pete said. "I think I'm insulted." "You're insulted?" Mary said. "How about me?" June got up and walked over to handle the situation. Or at least try. She came over to the side of the bed and knelt to get a better view. With one hand she reached up and cupped my balls, keeping her hand away from Mary's, which still held my limp dick. With the other she unbuttoned her blouse. She knows that I love to look down women's blouses, it's one of my biggest turn ons. One of 592 that I've cataloged so far. Nothing. "Maybe if I helped," she said. She pushed Mary's fingers away from my penis and bent over me. She took me in her mouth and began to suck. Nothing. Really nothing. The stress was just too great. "Anything?" Pete's voice came through the door. "Nothing," Mary said. "Shit," I said. "Would you people stop it? I feel like I'm a blue light special at the Kinsey Institute. What pressure!" Pete appeared in the doorway. "Can I see?" he said. I thought to myself, "What're you, the fucking doctor? You can't even knock up your own wife." But I stayed silent. He came in to survey the situation. He looked down at my paltry pecker, then at his wife. "Well, *I* can get turned on," he said. Mary leaned over and hugged him. Since she was sitting on the bed and he was standing, her head went into his crotch. She could feel him through his pants. "God, you're hard, at least." This was humiliating for me. Me! MIKE HUNT! Dirty story writer. Sex fiend. Pervert. "Would this help?" Pete said, lowering the zipper on his pants. "I know you like pornography. At least I know you used it in the bathroom when you were jerking off in my cup." He withdrew his dick. He was a good 8 inches, nearly 2 inches longer than me. About 7 inches longer than me at the moment. "As if I'm not feeling insecure enough, you take out your schwantz and you're a lot bigger than me," I pouted. June, who had her eyes pointed down as she continued her efforts with her mouth now released me and turned her head. She gasped. "Oh my god," she said. "Mary, you are *so* lucky!" "Holy shit," I thought. "I'll never get it up now." Mary's hand had reached out and she was grasping Pete's dick, softly stroking it. He pushed his mid-section forward and she leaned toward him. He wanted her to put him in his mouth, and she was complying. Now, do you think that was enough for me? No. Nothing. I watched her work on him orally for a few moments, and realized that nothing was happening. To me, I mean. It was obvious that a lot was happening for them. June, with her hand still on my dick, knew my predicament. She didn't know what to do. "Listen guys," I said. "This isn't working. I don't think I'm going to get it up, here. No hard feelings, you know what I mean? No hard anything, apparently." Mary made some little sucking noises. Pete moaned. June released me and turned toward the couple, now engaged in sex just a few feet away. She was looking at Pete's dick with awe. "We weren't supposed to be having sex, anyway," she said. "This was just for, you know, to make a baby." But she couldn't take her eyes off his dick. "I am feeling a little flushed, though," she said to no one in particular. The way she was twisted, her unbuttoned blouse was no longer open to me. But it was to Pete, who I realized was staring down at her chest. I felt my dick twitch. When she suddenly figured out that Pete was looking down her blouse she involuntarily jerked back and straightened her shoulders. "No hon, lean forward," I said. She looked at me. Pete pulled his rod out of his wife's mouth and we could all see it's angry red head bobbing in the open air. June was mesmerized. She bent forward, and her blouse opened. Pete stared into the gap in the material. I felt my dick twitch. "Uh, good," I said. Mary wanted to put her mouth back on his member, but he pushed her away. She grasped his manhood and began pumping it with her fist. He pointed at June's chest and wiggled his finger. Her hands involuntarily went up to the front, and she began to undo another button. My dick twitched again. "Hey guys, I'm getting something," I said. Everyone's eyes turned to look at my dick. It didn't look much different than it had minutes earlier, but I knew something was happening. "This is being a turn on, having Pete look down June's blouse." Now she unbuttoned the final two buttons on her shirt. The front hung open and the sides of her breasts were clearly visible. She wasn't wearing a bra; she rarely did. But in spite of the size of her tits, there wasn't a sag or stretch mark anywhere. I knew. I had plundered that real estate hundreds of times over the years. June had larger breasts than Mary, and Pete was enjoying the view. I felt some movement in my penis. June never looked at me but continued staring at Pete's pole. "Glad to help, hon," she said. Her hand reached out for him, and she cupped his testicles in her upturned palm. I felt a major twitch. He closed his eyes. Mary looked over at me and shrugged. I bent my finger and told her to come to me. She moved away from her husband and crawled along the bed. She reached me by crawling on all fours, and I reached into her top and grabbed one of her tits. I looked down the top and saw the other one swinging free, its red tip pointing down. I looked up and saw that June's free hand was no longer free. She had grabbed Pete's hard-on and was stroking it. She turned slowly and looked at me. I looked into her eyes and gave permission. She turned back to him and lowered her mouth. Pete reached for her shirt and pulled the sides apart, releasing June's pendulous breasts from the loose confines. She momentarily released his dick so that she could take the shirt off. My cock slowly continued to grow. Finally Mary had decided to help and reached for me. As she made contact with my member, it jumped up slightly. I was now perhaps half-erect. Not exactly home-free, but getting there. Mary brought her mouth down to my mid-section, and began to lick my balls while she stroked me. The soft piston action of her hand, coupled with the wetness of her mouth soon brought more hardness to that instrument that had malfunctioned just minutes earlier. June was now eagerly sucking on Pete's dick as well. I could tell she liked it because of it's larger size. I watched as her mouth sank down on him, and I knew his mushroom head was pushing against the back of her throat. June does that for me all the time, and even occasionally deep throats me, but I only reach about an inch into her throat. Pete was a good two inches longer than I was. Would she even try? I motioned Mary to turn around. She got up on her knees and faced away from me. I didn't plan it, but we were both pointed directly at Pete and June. I found the crotch in Mary's panties, pulled it to the side, and rubbed my dick against her pussy lips. I found the opening. I pushed. As I did, I watched my wife also push, trying to get Pete's entire penis into her mouth. Judging from his length, he was already part way down her throat, and I knew there was more to follow. "Oh god, look at that," Mary said. She too was entranced by the activity on the other side of the room. I began bouncing against Mary's ass, finally fucking her with abandon. My dick was now fully erect, and her love juices covered it from top to bottom as I slid in and out of her hungry box. Pete stopped his moaning long enough to say "You really should be lying on your back, hon. That way the sperm will have a better chance to travel..." Mary cut him off with a grunt. I said, "Let's not push it, OK Pete? I'm just lucky to be here." "You sure are," Mary giggled. "But I feel lucky, too." June backed off of Pete's throbbing dick. She turned to me and said "He's right, you know. She should be on her back." Christ. Technical details in the middle of a fuck session. Jeez! "Fine," I said with a trace of frustration in my voice. "Mary, if you wouldn't mind?" "Oh I don't mind at all," she said. As she rolled onto her back, she whipped off the rest of her clothing, then lifted her legs straight up in the air and split them, presenting her cunt as the target. I leaned forward and presented my arrow. Talk about a bulls-eye! I sank into her, her cunt folds again wrapping themselves tightly around my cock. Her warmth enveloped me, and I leaned on my elbows above her looking down into her face. I felt so tender toward her. I leaned down and gave her a little kiss on the lips, which turned into more, then into a passionate embrace. "Hey," June exclaimed. "What are you doing? This is supposed to be for sex. Don't do that." Like it was OK to have my dick in my friend's wife's cunt, but I wasn't allowed to kiss her. Still, there is an intimacy to a kiss that just fucking doesn't have, as any hooker will tell you. "This is unfair, anyway. You're getting fucked. She's getting fucked. Pete is getting a blow job. I'm the only one not getting any." "Go ahead hon," I said. I never took my eyes off Mary's face. "It's fine with me." Mary gazed into my eyes as the tempo of our rhythmic coupling increased. June was on her feet in a millisecond, shedding her clothes. She pushed Pete down onto the edge of the bed, and as he sat there she sat in his lap. I turned my head to watch. I could tell by her contortions that she was lowering herself onto his erection. I saw the passion in her face that told me when she had hit bottom. "Don't get too used to a dick that size," I said. "I wouldn't want you to be disappointed when you get home." "I don't think she'll be disappointed," Mary said, bouncing against me. "You're pretty good at this. I like having your dick in my pussy." "I'll bet he doesn't mind it either," Pete said. He leaned back and lay down on the mattress, and his head came to rest just inches from my leg. June was bouncing up and down on his lap, and I could see that his hands were busy grasping at her tits as they bounced in front of him. June had her arms outstretched, her palms open against his chest to use for leverage for her bouncing. Up and down. Up and down. With Pete lying on his back, I could see the juncture of their sexes, and watched his fuck tool slide in and out of my wife's cunt. "This is great," June said. "I have a nice big dick inside me, I have my husband's permission, and I don't have to worry about becoming pregnant. This is just great." "Yeah," I said. "And my job tonight is to deliver a load of sperm into this lovely lady's pussy." I looked back into Mary's eyes; they fluttered with my compliment. Her hips bucked. "This is not a bad job at all." My hips returned the favor. My head slid down and I grasped her breast. Even though she was smaller than June, her tits weren't quite as firm, and I had to hold my hand around the outside to get it to stick up in the air. I licked the nipple, bending my head down as far as I could in the process. I heard Pete start to moan. "Oh I'm going to cum," he said. "I'm there already." "Go ahead," June told him. "I'm close myself. And one thing that gets me off is feeling a nice hard dick in my pussy when it erupts. It's the ultimate turn on. Come on, big boy." She was bouncing up and down with abandon; his hands continued to squeeze her tits, twisting and squeezing them like they were some sort of nerf toy. "Ahhhh," he said, and I knew he was peaking. "Ahhhh," he said as the second wave passed him. "Ahhhh," he said more slowly this time. "Ooooo," June said. I knew that sound. That was her cum sound. Her hips were bucking violently against his, she slammed herself down on his pulsing dick, and moaned again. "Oooooo," she said. I knew there would be another four or five of those, but then I felt a rush of my own, taking over my body and my mind. I looked down at Mary. I spoke softly and said "Get ready, the delivery man is here." She looked up at me and pulled me close. I felt her legs spread even wider as she tried to sink me as deeply as she could. I didn't know if it was passion or just her attempt to get my sperm closer to her egg, but she bent her legs and surrounded me, pulling me as far in as I've ever been inside a woman. I felt the buzz of my orgasm begin in my loins. I thrust forward, shooting my first load into her hot cunt. I pulled back a little, and then pushed forward again, delivering my second spurt into her. As I pulled back again I felt the flush of heat deep in her cunt that told me she was about to join me on the roller coaster, and I bucked forward mightily, as my third wave crashed over my head. She cried out "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Her own orgasm overtook her and her cunt gripped my dick with a series of contractions that squeezed out the last precious drops of my spunk. I collapsed on her even as her cunt continued to grip me, our sweaty bodies now slipping and sliding over one another. Finally, we were done. I gave her a peck on the lips, and started to get up. She pulled me down, and we stayed that way for several minutes. June did the same with Pete. Finally the four of us were sitting, standing, walking around completely nude and exhausted. Then somehow our modesty got the best of us. Mary dressed quickly. Pete followed. June climbed into the bed and under the sheet. I just walked around in a daze, my spent dick hanging low between my legs. I walked them to the door; Mary just said "Thanks." June glanced back at my exhausted penis as I walked back into the bedroom. I said a silent prayer of gratitude. What a way to end the evening. But the story doesn't end there. About two weeks later Mary called to give us the news. She had missed her period. She had a doctor's appointment the next day. As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, the news came in rushes. She was pregnant. It would be a boy. The baby was healthy. She was due in October. Finally the big day came, and she had a healthy baby boy after a fairly routine delivery. She was in labor just 7 hours, pretty good for a first-timer I've learned. Pete told me they were naming him Carney. It's Irish for "victorious." But his nickname was going to be "Hunter", in honor of *me*. Pete wanted to know if I would be the child's godfather. Of course I said yes. A few weeks after Mary returned from the hospital she felt good enough to socialize and let us coo over the baby. We sat around, reminiscing about the "experiment" as we all called it. I spoke up. "Anytime you want little Carney to have a baby brother or sister, you just call." Neighbors helping neighbors, you know? Like the United Way. "I'll be glad to help out again." "So will I," said June. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- So help me it's all true. Except the part about Carney. His name's actually Dave. He's now 26 and drives a truck. I hope he doesn't read this, because then he'll know I fucked his mother and he'll probably get a gun and kill me. He's a weird dude. It's probably hereditary. Speaking of weird dudes, you are too if you're not getting these swell stories by e-mail, all in one piece, and early delivery to boot! Almost everybody else is. Except Dave of course. I took him off the list last week. To get 'em by e-mail, send me a note. Make sure you say something like "I'm over 18" or another witty saying. To protect your identity from other recipients the stories are sent out as "blind" carbons. There's actually no carbon used, of course. I think it's all done with electricity. If you print the story on your laser printer there IS carbon in the toner, which if you put in your eyes can make you "blind". Be careful. Also, if you get it on your hand and play with yourself it can turn your dick black. But this will NOT fool most women into thinking you have a big black dick, I've learned. Casual conversation and other drek at M1ke@hilarious.com . Please note that the 2nd character in M1KE is a "one" (1) not an "eye" (I). Thanks. Yes, the mailing address has changed. But I still can't spell M1KE very well. As a friendly and neighborly service, I've made my older stories available at my website at . Some of my older stories are about me when I was younger. I have no older stories about me when I was older, because I'm not older yet, but by next week I will be older, and then some of my older stories will be even older. However I'll still be younger in my older stories. I've also added "M1KE's Graffiti" to the website. If you've ever wanted to peek over someone's shoulder and read their mail, this is the place. In fact if you've ever sent me an e-mail, it might be posted here. Maybe I posted your return address. Maybe I even included a credit report and the information I got from the FBI about you. You never know. Please don't try to sell this story. You'll embarrass me when nobody wants to buy it, and you'll experience a painful disfiguring death when I get Dave to kill you by running over your head with his truck and squashing you like a cantaloupe. You can give the story away if you want. Good luck. Some people won't even take free shit. This story is Copyright 1997 by M1KE HUNT. Like somebody would steal it or something. Although I do think it has potential as an NBC mini-series, don't you? Maybe in the next episode we could all watch little Carney smash his tricycle into a fire hydrant and be rushed to the hospital and get 47 stitches. Maybe he could even get tuberculosis or some other horrible disease, or maybe a wacky doctor could cut off his foot by mistake. Oh, the possibilities are endless! Does anybody know anybody at NBC? I hear it works better if you have an inside connection. I think that's how Seinfeld got started. Supposedly he was fucking the top guy's wife or something and got caught and they made him do a TV show to make up for it. At least that's how I heard it.

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18 Gay Erotic Stories from Mike Hunt

Drive In

This is maybe the third or fourth story I ever wrote. I never showed it to you before because I figured it was just a simple fuck and suck story, and who wants to read one of those, anyway? OK, maybe a bunch of horny 17 year olds, but they're not allowed. Tell them to go away. However I've had enough requests ("Hey, this one goes out to Lorraine and Dave in the Valley, and to all

Feet Are Neat

You're not allowed to read sexually explicit material like this until your 18th birthday. Men's sexual performance declines after age 18. I'm sure there's a connection. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Feet Are Neat - by MIKE HUNT -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was my first

Fun In The Tub

Oh no! You've downloaded SPAM from the world of MIKE HUNT!!! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! I've been fighting with my publisher (that's also me!) about my insistence that I begin including SPAM in my stories to help defray the ever increasing cost of my medical care. You should see my dick! Last week I thought I'd rubbed it raw and I rushed to the ER. I'm OK, it's just a rash. But now come the

High Rise

I swear there are two of me. The shrinks will tell you that "multiple personalities" are rare, but they're wrong. I think everybody has them. Like I'll be driving down the highway, and suddenly I'm five miles further than I thought. Who was doing the driving for those five miles? It must have been the other me, because it wasn't me. Or some mornings I'll be in the shower, and

I Am M1ke's dick

Dear Readers: This is the all true story of a short period in my life where I was involved in the television industry, when someone hired me to produce a program about sex. Go figure. I've had to play detective and even filch some stuff from other people's computers to find all the correspondence, notes, e-mails, etc. that tell the story, and while I didn't find everything, I've

June's First

Bad news, dirty story fans. The Smut Writers Guild (SWG) is holding a job action, and I can't write for you this week. If I did they could pull my card, and then where would I be? Seems they're protesting the exploitation of immigrant women, or something. Shit, I've never exploited immigrant women. I've never even fucked one that I know of. Well, maybe that Latina broad in

Reluctant Bride

I'm afraid the Almost True Series of M1KE HUNT adventures may be coming to a close, dear friends. You see, I'm slowly going broke writing these stories. My most recent attempt to leverage these little ditties into some cold hard cash has been a bust, and I can't figure out why! I thought the M1KE HUNT FAN CLUB would be a huge success. Maybe the $250 annual fee was a problem. We

She's A Tease

I was returning Karen & John's vacuum cleaner. Mine had blown up a couple of weeks earlier, and I hadn't spent the money to fix it or buy a new one yet. I didn't know either Karen or John particularly well; they had only moved into our duplex about 3 or 4 months before, and what with work schedules and all, I only ran into them at the mailbox or front door a few times for a couple

Shelly's Sex Life

You need to be 18 to read this. Well actually you don't NEED to be. You've been reading since you were 8. And you've probably been jerking off since you were 12. Come to think of it, I don't understand this rule at all. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Shelly's Sex Life - by MIKE HUNT

Shelly's Trial

Hey! It's Mailbag Day at the MIKE HUNT offices! Here's an interesting e-mail from Pornmerchants.com. They want to know if I want to join their service which would make readers use 'e-nickels' to download my stories. M1KE: No. Bad smut should be free. I don't even like paying the part of the electric bill that goes toward keeping the modem warm while I'm downloading. - - -

Some Things Just Happen

You should be 18 to read this. It is a MIKE HUNT story and there is sex here. But I mostly write these ditties with you readers squarely in mind. And there's usually some decent rock-and-roll fucking or other weird shit going on. Not this time. I wrote this one for me. And for her. If you're looking for that heavy breathing funny bunny mambo action try someone else's. Or wait

The Darkroom - A Sequel

It had only been a couple days since my wild photo session with Bob and his beautiful wife Krystal. It had started out as a glamour photo session (even though I've mostly only done nature stuff as a hobby) and ended up with a three-way. Krystal, shy as I've always known her, really let loose when she had her husband in front of her and me behind, servicing her at both ends, so to

The Lingerie Salesman

I hereby disclaim any responsibility for my wife's debts, the actions of my congressman, or anything that happens to you after reading this story if you're not at least 18. My lawyer told me try to limit my liability. Seems one guy was reading a dirty story when his monitor exploded and killed him. His wife is suing the manufacturer, of course. Personally I think he probably came on

The O'Stikkit Inn

My wife likes men. I've always known that about her. When we first started going out, she was still seeing several other guys, but they just sort of fell away and we ended up together. We dated for many months, then finally got married. We've been hitched for 6 years, and to the best of my knowledge she's been faithful to me, and me to her. Well, I did have a couple of visits to a

The Photographer

I've been fooling around with cameras since high school, when I saved up and bought my first decent one. You know, a 35mm job with two interchangeable lenses. I mean, it was always just a hobby, I never thought I had enough talent to make my living at it, which is why I became an accountant. Yes, just a boring accountant for a large CPA firm. Still, the 9-to-5 hours and decent pay

The Topless Bar

I don't usually respond publicly to one flame. But you know me, I'll make an exception to any rule. Seems one reader took offense that I don't advocate using condoms in my stories, and that I don't warn readers about the dangers of sex at each and every opportunity. He/she further accused me of being a misogynistic asshole, a charge to which I plead guilty, though only in a most

The United Way

I've decided technology is fucked up. Like computers, for instance. I don't like them. Did I ever tell you about the time I mixed up my folders and started sending my stories to people who had just written to say "Wow" and didn't really want the stories showing up on their machines at work? Funny thing is the people who *wanted* the stories and didn't get them were even more

The Wet T-Shirt Contest

I've set up a little web page with all of my stories. I wanted to have the address be M1KE HUNT, but that name made the server get wet and it became unstable. You understand. So I've had to open up yet a THIRD address. It's MrM1KE@aol.com. I asked one of the tech support people at AOL why it wouldn't work at the M1KE HUNT name, and while she was eating lunch she told me "Gruumpg

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