Lord Iron’s got a vintage Handjobs tale with all the hallmarks of the stories we love here: exploration, joy, connection, and consent.
While lots of the stories in classic Handjobs issues go unattributed or are credited to single first name authors who are never heard from again, a handful of illustrators also authored the many stories that accompany their boner-inducing art. Lord Iron is one of those.
A more prolific contributor to the magazine over the years than many, Lord Iron didn’t end up receiving the name recognition of illustrators like Bruno B, and Josman. But his work is still quite exceptional and he remains one of my particular favorite artists.
Iron draws beautiful men. And because he’s also a storyteller, he makes his men match his worlds, and makes their emotion match their experience. Josman is a fantastic illustrator and cartoonist, but his bodies and faces tend to lack real distinction. Instead, they are often adhere the muscular superhero V-shape, with square jaws and typical Chelsea Boy aesthetics. Even when they’re painted to depict men of color.
Lord Iron’s men live in a more genuinely diverse universe, and are more often non-white individuals. This is something of a rarity in the gay erotic art genres, outside of the specifically racially fetishized bodies of some creators who focus on exaggerated traits in order to illustrate their “exoticness.” Iron draws men with muscular but realistic bodies full of pubic hair and beard stubble and receding hairlines. They feel less comic or graphic, and more like photo-based watercolors of real people who really experienced these things.
The expressive and sometimes inelegant faces of men in the throes of passion with one another (or with themselves) make me feel sure that Lord Iron based his work on models, porn actors, or his own personal conquests.
They’re too precise to be pulled exclusively from his imagination in the moment of creation. And that imbues an eroticism and depth of experience that escapes flatter, more cartoony depictions of sex. The glazed, cum-dumb countenance of a man still pouring sperm from his penis will never make the LinkedIn headshot, but it sure makes my penis harder when it’s so true to life.
Today’s story comes to us by way of the April 2010 issue of Handjobs Magazine, and features exactly the sort of “cool uncle” I was warning this guy never to try and be. But since we’ve talked about the moral neutrality of sex as a part of our larger existence, and know that stories from this magazine exist only in high, high fantasy, there’s no harm in boning up and blasting off with Neal and his Guido uncle Bud.
Bud is a sexy and very Sicilian bluejeans and white t-shirt dirtbag in the 1962 of this story. Lord Iron doesn’t say exactly where he lives, aside from the fact that he’s got an apartment “in the city.” And he’s got plans to guide his (explicitly stated 18 year old) nephew toward manhood by way of elaborate masturbatory example.
I always love to share and discuss stories where the timing is exactly right for both parties to experience something special together without shame or any lasting harm. Everybody cums and leaves the encounter feeling pumped about themselves and the adventures yet to come. Neal’s first adult experience with penis pride, as he’s informed that it’s big and special, made me smile like a dumb goober while I rubbed by boner ever harder and faster.
Neal ‘n’ Unk
Written and Illustrated by Lord Iron
Handjobs Magazine, April 2010
“Wild stuff, huh, kid?”
The fresh-faced eighteen-year-old gave a little dry-throated murmur
of assent. He knew that his Uncle Bud wasn’t referring to the remote-controlled color television set, or even the bulky video-cassette player wired to it—both rare marvels in the year of 1962—but to the hardcore sex movie playing out before him. Bud’s job in TV production gave him access to all kinds of wonders the average Joe could only dream of, but this took the cake!
Bud Carlucci snuck a sidelong look at his nephew. Neal’s face was slightly flushed, his puppy-brown eyes unblinking, taking in every detail of the scenes on the tube. Bud knew that the sights and sounds were burning themselves into his brain. He had been waiting for the chance to introduce the shy teenager to the special pleasures that only an unattached bachelor could enjoy. The boy had been sheltered too long. Now that he’d come of legal age, Bud had taken their buddy- hood a little farther on each of Neal’s weekend visits to his apartment in the city.
“This’ll give you something to beat off to when you go home,” Bud said lewdly. In response, Neal’s cheeks flooded with color, but he didn’t flinch. He only nodded quickly, biting his lip in a bashful grin.
Bud’s own blood rushed to his loins, making his thick Sicilian cock balloon obscenely across his hip. Neal’s crotch was showing some activity, too, and the boy’s fingers kept twitching there. His cock badly needed some adjusting, but he was too shy to do it overtly.
Emboldened, Bud stretched his big, powerful legs, momentarily lifted his butt off the couch, and pulled on the crotch of his jeans, giving himself some slack. His hand casually fell to his bulging fuck- bone, gently kneading the knob, which lay under his left pocket.
Neal’s eyes glanced toward Bud’s bulge, widened briefly, then darted back to the screen, where a young stud, not much older than him, was tit-fucking a buxom blonde.
“How’d you like to be doing that, kid?” Bud softly growled in Neal’s ear. “Sliding your cock between those creamy tits ….”
Neal gave a shaky little sigh, indicating that he would like that very much. His hand wavered at his crotch, where his expanding flesh looked painfully constricted.
“Go ahead, buddy,” encouraged his uncle. “Go ahead and fix it. Make room for it … get comfortable.”
Neal pulled out his pants just as Bud had done. As he raised his hips his hardon became prominent, its banana curve outlined by the straining fabric. Its size surprised Bud a little; there was no question the kid was nicely hung.
“’Atta boy. From the size of that package, it looks like you take after the Carlucci side of your family.”
Neal blushed again, cupping his hands down over his bulging groin. his teeth dug down into his lower lip as he suppressed another half- pleased, half-embarrassed grin.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, kid… all us Carluccis have big ones. You should be proud of your Italian heritage.”
Neal was shocked and excited to hear this kind of talk from his uncle. Nobody had ever talked about his penis before. Apparently it liked the attention; it had gotten almost painfully hard.
“Yours is really big, isn’t it, Unk?” Neal asked in a shaking voice.
“Judge for yourself,” said Bud, and in almost one movement he unzipped his jeans and yanked it out. He knew it was a beast of a cock, and he knew it would impress the boy. He didn’t allow himself the time for second thoughts, to wait for the right moment; he just wanted Neal’s eyes on it. His eyes, for starters.
“See that?” Bud gripped it at the base, pulling down and squeezing, making the cum-slit flare and the head turn a dark shade of plum.
Neal did see. He stared and swallowed. “Gee, Unk … I didn’t know dicks could get that big.”
“It likes your company. It wants to get off, like the dicks in that fuck-flick … don’t you need to get your rocks too?”
Neal started to shrug – then he nodded instead.
“You don’t have to wait till you get home,” Bud said, working the shaft a few times. “Unless you got something better to beat off to there.” Neal thought of his meager collection of pinups and blurry snapshots he swapped with friends. “I don’t … but ….”
“Aww come on, buddy, don’t be shy,” Bud egged him on. “Go ahead, pull yours out. We’re both guys … come on, yank it out and beat off with your old Unk.”
Neal could hardly believe what he was doing as he unfastened his jeans and liberated his aching young manhood. Two beautiful stiff cocks rose up side by side for comparison. Bud had a good two inches on his nephew. His rugged manmeat was bone-straight, while Neal’s smooth boner had a streamlined curve. Both man and boy sported large, heavy balls hanging like perfect ballast for their soaring rods.
“I see you got the Carlucci balls, too,” Bud said. “Built for pumpin’ out lots of little bambinos.”
Neal giggled. He had never really known whether his equipment was big, small or just average, until now. He felt a swell of masculine pride that he’d never known before.
Bud was slowly masturbating, precum starting to drool from his generous slit as his eyes drank up the sight of his nephew’s aroused genitals. Both guys paid less and less attention to the video and more and more to each other.
“You beat off a lot, kid?” Bud said, his voice thick with barely contained lust. “You a horny dog like your uncle?”
“I … I guess so,” stammered Neal, his hands fidgeting on his own dick as if they desperately wanted to wrap themselves around it. “I do it … every day, Unk.”
“Yeah? What do you do every day, Neal?”
“I … beat off.” Neal heard his own words as if they had been spoken by someone else. Only a short time ago he would have never admitted to playing with himself. But now he wanted to say it … he wanted to share these things with his uncle, to masturbate together in this free and private environment they shared. The real world seemed far away and he wondered if this was another one of his occasional wet dreams. Would he wake up in a moment, in his bed, sticky with sweat and cum?
On the TV screen the blonde was taking the young stud’s ample cock down her throat. Neal had heard of blow jobs before, but had never experienced them. Like most boys his age, the majority of his orgasms came from his own hand.
“Unk?” he asked dreamily as they both jacked off. “What does it feel like to get your cock sucked?”
“Well …” began Bud. Once more, his natural boldness took over. “It feels kinda like this.”
Bud slid over and replaced Neal’s hand with his mouth. At the feeling of Bud’s lips closing around his sensitive organ, Neal thought he might lose control and cum right then. But he fought it, and held on. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. He leaned back, his legs extending out before him, his toes clenching.
Uncle Bud’s mouth glided up and down his shaft, taking the full length before going back to suckle the head like a lollipop. Neal, who had never so much as masturbated with lubricant, had never known this slick, smooth friction. It was a revelation. He could feel his eyes rolling back in his head, the breath filling his lungs with ragged jerks. He knew he wouldn’t last through much more.
“Unk … Unk …” he moaned. Bud kept sucking, the speed and power of his mouth-work steadily increasing. Deep inside Neal’s loins, the sensations were coming to a head, gathering toward a mighty climax. He felt like a pot about to boil over. The bubbles were popping in his head; the dizzying rush of an impending mother-of-all-orgasms made his head swim.
“It’s … it’s happening, Unk!” Neal hissed urgently. “Watch out, Unk! I’m gonna … I’m gonna ….”
Then he went over the edge. With his uncle’s mouth still wrapped firmly around his cock, young Neal reached orgasm. The bubbles exploded, sending his mind reeling with a pleasure that obliterated anything he had experienced or imagined. He was aware of his own voice gasping and grunting profanity, the delicious warm freedom of gushing out his sperm into a welcoming mouth, the final shuddering ecstasy as Uncle Bud’s hand came up between his legs and gently fondled his tightly-drawn balls, coaxing them, gently but firmly encouraging them to give up all their load, then moving lower to knead and massage the boy’s rigid, engorged perineum, the root of his cock that pulsed so magically when he reached climax.
Bud tasted the gusher as it filled his mouth. The furious, hard squirts hit the back of his throat. The fresh young sperm ran down the shaft and glazed Neal’s balls as Bud gradually slowed his tempo, eased the pressure and expertly brought the boy back from his Nirvana. Neal puffed out a sigh of relief and floated back down to reality.
Bud had figured that they had gone as far as the boy would be willing to go for now, and that he’d take care of his own blue balls by himself. But he was mildly surprised when Neal wasted no time in returning the favor, bravely wrapping his lips around the older man’s thick meat.
Bud sighed and let his head fall back. For the first time the thought crossed his mind that this might not, in fact, be Neal’s first man-to-man encounter. He thought of Neal’s best friend Mike, a hunky little high school jock who he’d caught checking him out once. Bud didn’t have to instruct Neal to keep his teeth out of the way, and the boy had no trouble taking Bud’s eight inches all the way back in his throat. The boy’s suckable lips were talented too. Bud felt his nuts start to pull up for the big moment.
“Oh fuck, baby,” he croaked sweetly. “I can’t take much more of that; your old Unk’s gonna cream ….”
Neal pulled up off the dick, and to Bud’s amazement, locked lips with him in a mind-blowingly hot and sensual kiss. If Neal had intended to forestall Bud’s orgasm by easing off on his dick, that kiss had sabotaged his plans.
“I’m cumming! Oh fuck, baby, I’m cumming!” Bud moaned into Neal’s lips.
The boy grabbed Bud’s slick cock and pumped it with hard, tight, fast strokes. Bud felt his mind going silly with pleasure as his virile body exploded in the most devastatingly powerful orgasm he’d had in years.
Neal felt the wide Italian cock swell so thick and hard in his hand he thought it would burst. Then Bud gave an agonized grunt as long white ropes of goopy man-sperm started erupting from his pulsing slit, pelting his chest and sluicing down his heaving, furry abs.
“Oh, goddamn! Fuck!” hissed Bud, slamming his head back and forth against the back of the sofa as he pissed out his stallion load.
“Goddamn motherfucker it feels so good, baby!”
Neal slowed his strokes as the flow of sperm ebbed, concluding his hand job with the same suspicious expertise that made Bud almost certain the boy had handled another guy’s dick before.
“Whew!” whooped Bud, a wide smile on his face. “That was swell, baby. Something tells me you’ve done this before – or else you’re the biggest goddamn natural walking the earth.”
Neal just shrugged, once again a shy, reticent teenager. Maybe he’d tell Uncle about it next time – and Bud was pretty sure there would be a next time.
In fact, the following day, Bud was taken by surprise when Neal phoned to ask if he could bring his buddy Mike over the following weekend to check out Bud’s home theater.
“I don’t see why not,” Bud said, grinning devilishly into the phone. “The couch is big enough for three.”
It was going to be a long week.
I love almost everything about Lord Iron’s art and storytelling. What a magical way to learn to feel proud of your penis and how you can connect with others through pleasure and sexual vulnerability. We should all be so lucky to have a guy like Bud in our lives.