Had an ongoing thing for several years with an uncle by marriage. Since I was a young teenager, there’s always been a kind of affectionate tension between us, probably because I wasn’t so good at concealing my crush on him. I don’t think anyone else noticed. But, as I learned, we both knew what was going on.
The first time happened when I came home for spring break my sophomore year and dropped by my aunt and uncle’s house one Saturday afternoon. My aunt and cousins had just left to go shopping and he invited me in to watch football and have a couple of beers. He said he was just about to shower and disappeared after he got me a beer and turned the TV on. He came back shirtless and barefoot, wearing an old pair of jeans. The top button of his fly was undone. When he sat next to me on the sofa, I could see a few tendrils of pubic hair tumbling out of the fly. From time to time, as we pretended to watch the game, he’d absent-mindedly slip his hand into his pants. Of course, I was rock hard and a couple quick glances revealed he was headed in that direction.
We didn’t say much—he wasn’t very talkative—but the conversation soon turned to how I was doing at school and whether I was getting laid. He caught me off-guard by acknowledging he knew was I gay. He said he hoped I was sowing plenty of wild oats. Not really, I told him; there was always a lot of drama attached to hooking up. He recommended looking for a mentor, an older buddy, maybe. When I replied that finding someone like that was tough, he answered, “Maybe not as tough as you think.”
In no time his jeans were off and I was on my knees with his legs locked around my shoulders. His dick wasn’t the biggest I’ve seen. But it was thick, powerful, and uncut, which surprised me. I hadn’t blown a lot of guys and had never dealt with an uncircumcised cock before. He coached me through it. By the time we finished, he’d shot such a huge load into my throat that it backed up into my mouth and spilled over my chin. He sealed the deal with a deep kiss and held me against his chest for a while before he said, “I should get dressed. And you need to do something about that stain.” (I came in my pants the instant I started sucking him.) I groaned and he asked what was the matter. I said I wanted to go again; maybe this time he would fuck me. Don’t be greedy, he said, all in good time.
That kicked off about ten years of fun. Worries about getting caught forced us to be creative. But we always found ways. We’d sneak off at family gatherings—my favorite was the time he fucked me in my folks’ laundry room while everyone else was busy clearing the table after Christmas dinner. He drove up to school one weekend, on the pretense of going on a fishing trip with some work buddies. I could barely walk after that. About 15 years ago, his job transferred him across country and that put an end to it. Or so I thought. Last fall, I was near where he and my aunt now live and dropped by to see them. He had a work shed out back and wanted me to see it. He’s in sixties now, but still fine and strong and we went at it just like the good old days. So it’s probably not over yet—going back to visit soon.
