Mrs. Foster was happy to cook and clean for the family every day while Mr. Foster, now retired, sat around reading his newspaper and smoking his pipe. I sat all day long on the sofa devouring novels I had brought over from Europe. We made quite the old-fashioned family in many ways, but I knew it couldn’t last forever. Today was Christmas day. Mrs. Foster had invited a couple to dinner that she and Mr. Foster had known for many years, and a friend that they called Uncle Joe. Joe wasn’t really an uncle, at least not to them. He was Mrs. Foster’s sister’s boyfriend, although many years younger than her, and he had been coming to Christmas dinner for the last eight or nine years since Mrs. Foster’s sister, Mary, had died in a tragic accident on a ski lift. I had met Joe once before while we were touring the region. He lived in an isolated cabin on the side of a nearby mountain. We had stopped at his place for a couple of hours for refreshments and he had asked me loads of questions. My hand was around his cock and pressed thgitk against me, I could feel each spurt as it shot out of him.Thick white ropes of a strangers cum blasted out of his cock and soaked my shirt. He moaned each time he shot cum and as he finished I felt his hands drop from my shoulders. I thought he would touch my cock still hard and throbbing. But he didn’t, he pulled away as if nothing had happened and turned towards his urinal. He cleared his throat like he was going to spit but didn’t. I heard him grunt and groan, forcing his piss past whatever valve we have inside of us and then I heard his piss hit the porcelain and knew this was over. He stood there ignoring me as if I was nothing more than some tree or fence post that he shot his cum on.Just like the recordings I had been listening too, no emotion, no love, just raw lust played out between two consenting men. I got my erection back in my pants and ran into the end stall. His cum was all over my shirt, soaked into the front and clammy.
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