Date: Sun, 13 Mar 2016 18:40:36 -0600
From: jordan.bradders@nym.hush.com
Subject: Freak of Nature - Chapter One

The following story is a work of complete and utter fiction, meant for
adults.  That means that it isn't a true story.  If you are under 18 or
under the age of consent where you live stop reading now and do not
download this story.

If you have difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality, please stop
reading now, do not download this story, and consider getting psychiatric
help.  If you have already consulted a psychiatrist, please take your
medications.

The story involves mild sexual contact between a thirteen-year-old boy and
his adult uncle.  The boy is NOT a real child, and the uncle is not a real
adult.  THAT IS, NO REAL PEOPLE, WITH THE POSSIBLE EXCEPTION OF THE AUTHOR,
WERE INVOLVED IN THE MAKING OF THIS STORY.

If such stories offend you, stop reading now and do not download this
story.  If such stories are illegal where you live, stop reading now and do
not download this story.

I really like SPECIFIC feedback on my writing.  Good or bad, it helps me
improve.  Email me at jordan.bradders@nym.hush.com

   =================================================

Freak of Nature

By Jordan Bradders

(c) Copyright 2016 Jordan Bradders.  The author reserves all rights.
Permission is granted to download this story for personal use only.  It may
not be published in any other forum, web site or book without my prior
permission.

Peter was thirteen years old when he learned that he was a freak of
nature.  It all began when one of his four sisters walked in on him in the
bathroom.  He'd just stepped out of the shower and was standing in the
middle of the room, both hands over his head, toweling his hair.  She
couldn't have had a clearer view.  The fifteen-year-old froze, then
apologized and backed out of the room, her face red with embarrassment.  He
cursed himself for forgetting to lock the door but had forgotten about it
by bedtime.  The same could not be said of his sister, who'd been shocked
by what she'd seen.

Peter's father had died when his mother was pregnant with her fifth
child, Peter's youngest sister.  She'd never gotten over her firefighter
husband, and had not dated or remarried, so Peter was the only boy in a
household of females.  Small for his age, He'd shied away from sports and
other typical masculine activities.  As a result, he had no idea just how
unusual he was.

Peter was thrilled when his uncle Pete came for a visit the following
weekend.  His favorite relative lived on the other side of the country and
visited only when he had business in the area It didn't occur to him at the
time, but his godfather had never before made the trip without at least two
or three months planning.

Pete had arrived Friday night.  Saturday morning he made a show of
asking for a volunteer to help him with some errands.  He'd looked to each
of Peter's sisters first, as if there was any question that his namesake
would be his co-pilot.  Each had shaken her head so he said "Well, I guess
I'm stuck with young Peter.  You sure you know your way around town?"

Peter grinned, quickly rinsed his dishes and put them in the dishwasher,
then led the way out to the rental car in the driveway.  This was one of
the many reasons he liked his uncle: he always drove really nice cars.
This time, it was a Mazda MX-5 convertible; red, or course, with all the
bells and whistles.  `Only the best for my uncle,' he thought as he slid
into the leather passenger seat.

In truth, Pete had grown up in town and didn't need a guide.  He'd
always taken his responsibilities as his nephew's only living male relation
seriously.  This, he reflected, was one such mission for which he was
singularly qualified.

They drove around town, completing a series of unnecessary tasks.  This
didn't seem unusual to Peter; He'd long known that one of his uncle's
purposes in visiting was to spend time with him.  He loved it.  Aroudn noon
Pete looked at his watch and suggested that they stop for lunch.  He didn't
even wait for a response before skillfully swinging the tiny car into a
space in the lot of a restaurant Peter had always wanted to visit: Hooters.

Wide eyed, Peter followed his uncle to a booth at the back of the
restaurant, near the kitchen.  He couldn't help but stare at the servers as
they came and went.  He tried desperately to pull his eyes from their
chests, but then noticed that the women, most of whom appeared to be
eighteen- or nineteen-years-old, smiled back at him.  None said "My eyes
are up here, perv," as one of his sister's friends had done.

Uncle Pete grinned as he gestured toward the bench seat facing into the
restaurant, from which his nephew would have the best view.  "Don't worry,
Peter.  I told your mom I planned to bring you here.  She's okay with it."
He made a point of examining the menu, leaving Peter free to continue
avidly scanning the restaurant.

Peter started to realize that the girls didn't have any one look or
"type." Some had large breasts; some small.  Some were tall; some short.
Some, he noted with surprise, were almost flat-chested.  Some were
strikingly beautiful; some a bit plain.  Some were even a bit overweight,
though they were in the minority and still very pretty.

A particularly well-endowed woman brought them two glasses of water.
She pulled out an order pad and stood there, as if unaware that she wore a
tiny pair of red "booty shorts" and that her breasts were almost bursting
out of her low-cut half-tee-shirt.  Peter couldn't help but stare, and
stammered when she asked for his order.

Chuckling, his uncle ordered cheeseburgers with onion rings for both of
them, a chocolate milkshake for Peter, and a beer for himself.  He plucked
the menu from the nonplussed boy's hands and handed it to the server.  She
smiled but remained in place for a few more seconds, as if to give Peter
another look at her assets before going to place their order.

Pete cleared his throat to gain the boy's attention.  "I love places
like this.  Everybody's so comfortable about sex and sexuality.  None of
these girls ever make you feel bad for looking.  It's not like it's our
fault; it's how we're programmed."

Peter listened intently to his uncle; he always did.  He wondered,
though, if there was some subtext he was missing.  'What,' he wondered,
'did he mean about our being programmed to look.' "Thanks for bringing me
here, Uncle Pete; but...  umm...  why are we here?"

Pete didn't miss a beat; He'd been prepared for this question, and had
decided to jump right in.  "Your mom and I figured it was time for me to
have a talk with you." He paused.  "You know -- about sex and your body and
stuff like that."

Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but said nothing.  Not only was
this topic embarrassing, but his half-hard penis was twisted painfully in
his jeans and he didn't feel he could adjust it without drawing attention.
This had been a problem for him in school of late, as he needed to stand to
complete the necessary maneuvers; something he could not do without drawing
attention to his growing problem.

Pete was unsurprised by the boy's discomfort, both emotional and
physical.  He had a special insight into the latter, which he planned to
share.  "I know, buddy.  This is a tough thing to talk about, but we
figured you'd rather it be me than your mother." He grinned and looked
around.  "Besides; what better place could I have picked for this
discussion?"

Peter laughed nervously as he followed his uncle's gaze out into the
restaurant.  The waitress picked that moment to bring their beverages, so
when he turned his head his eyes fell directly onto her breasts.  She
leaned forward as if to give him a better view of her cleavage, and then
lingered for a moment as she adjusted the drinks on the table.  Peter
moaned softly as she walked away, his eyes now on her swaying hips and
rounded butt.  He started to wonder if she was deliberately torturing him.

Pete leaned forward, his voice almost inaudible over the sound of the
music.  "Look, dude.  I found out this week that you and I have a..." He
paused to consider his next words.  "...  a problem in common." He laughed,
and then added "Of course, most guys wouldn't consider this to be a
problem, and it really can be a good thing." He paused, realizing that he
was on the verge of babbling.

The waitresses forgotten for the moment, Peter looked concerned.
"Problem, Uncle Pete?  What problem?"

Pete momentarily lost his nerve and vacillated.  "Well, you know how
your mom always says you got your looks from your dad?" Peter nodded.
"Well, you seem to have gotten at least one thing from your mother's side
of the family."

Peter looked around, confused and a bit frustrated.  His uncle was
usually straight with him, but today he seemed almost evasive.  He blurted
out "Can you get to the point, Uncle Pete?  You're driving me nuts!"

The man's laughter was tinged with nervousness.  "Okay.  I'll just say
it.  Apparently, you're hung like a horse." When he was met with a blank
expression, he explained "Your sister reports that your penis hangs almost
to your knees."

Peter turned bright red and looked down at the table.  He silently
cursed his sister, remembering how she had walked in on him in the
bathroom. Then his mind started to whirl.  `That,' he thought, `was only a
few days ago.  Uncle Pete flew out that quick just to talk about my dick?'

The man rushed on, still talking around the main topic.  "How long do you
think the average penis is?" Smiling nervously, he clarified "On a human,
that is."

Peter blushed.  Some of his friends liked to burn one another with jokes
about penis size, but he had no idea what "normal" might be.  His school
had provided a single "puberty class" in fifth grade, but it had been short
on specifics, and certainly hadn't addressed issues like size.  He
swallowed, and then choked as he started to speak.  "Umm...  I don't know.
Like...  nine or ten inches?"

Pete smiled.  "Yeah, I can see how you might think that.  If you
Google it, you'll read that it's about five inches." He smiled ruefully,
then added "But how would you go about studying something like penis size?
Ask for volunteers?" He paused to give the boy time to think.

"Umm...  yeah, I guess so." When his uncle didn't respond, Peter thought
some more and added "But I guess only guys with big...  umm...  penises...
would volunteer."

His uncle smiled proudly.  "Exactly.  You could also do it by
self-report, but most guys are gonna add a couple of inches, at least."

Peter was now engaged in the kind of discussion that might happen at
school.  "So...  five inches is probably wrong?" When his uncle nodded, he
asked "So how big is the average penis, Uncle Pete?" He was starting to get
over his hesitance to use the unfamiliar vocabulary.

"Believe it or not, the average is about two to four inches, when you
drop the self-report studies and just look at the ones where someone else
held the ruler." He pulled a six-inch ruler from his pocket and put it on
the table.  "From what I hear, you're quite a bit bigger than that."

Peter's voice took on a defensive tone.  "So?  What does that mean?  You
came all the way across the country just to talk about my dick?"

Pete reached out and took his nephew's hand.  "Calm down, dude.  It's
nothing bad.  Just, I had the same problem when I was your age, and your
mother thought I might be able to help you deal with it.  It's gonna get a
bit...  complicated...  when you start high school next year.  Ya' know?"

The waitress returned with their meals then.  Noticing that he hadn't
touched his drink, she asked "Your milkshake okay, sweety?" She leaned in
as she spoke.  `Maybe, Peter thought, `pushing her tits into customers'
faces is just a habit.' He grinned when it occurred to him that it probably
helped her tips substantially.

Peter picked up his shake and sucked on the straw for a moment, and then
smiled.  "No, it's great." He noticed that his erection had subsided while
he and his uncle spoke, but it returned with a vengeance now, throbbing
painfully in his tight jeans.  When the waitress left.  He looked at his
uncle and said "I'm gonna have a hard time standing up when we're done.
Can we talk about something else `till we get outta here?'

Pete nodded, smiling.  The hard part of the discussion was over.  "Yeah.
I learned some tricks when I was your age.  I'm going to take you shopping
after lunch." They finished their meal.  Peter smirked "Be sure to leave a
good tip," then collected the car keys and hurried out of the restaurant.

When Pete joined him in the car, he apologized.  "I guess having this
conversation at Hooters was a mistake.  But we're through it now." He took
his nephew to a department store, where they bought an assortment of
athletic supporters and boxer shorts.  He made Peter try on several brands
of jeans, until they had found some that were baggy enough to obscure the
shape of his genitalia.  He paid for several pairs but waited until they
were out in the car before explaining "You'll have to try these on at home
to see if they do the job when you're hard."

Not surprisingly, Peter blushed and a very large bulge formed in his
pants.  "Could you please stop talking about my dick, Uncle Pete?  At least
`till we get home?" Gesturing at his crotch, he added "This is
embarrassing!"

Pete nodded, and then pulled the car into traffic.  "One more stop." At
a sporting goods store, Pete selected some compression shorts, as well as
several pairs of board shorts.

Peter nodded his approval when he saw that they reached to his knees.
He'd worried about how he was going to keep his dick in his pants when he
went swimming over the summer.  `This,' he thought, `will work.'

When they got home, they went to Peter's room.  Pete said "You don't
have to show me if you don't want, but..."

Without hesitation, Peter pushed his jeans and briefs off his hips,
exposing himself for his uncle's inspection.  The adult stood and did the
same, commenting "You might be bigger than me, Peter." He laughed " I guess
I can't call you `little dude' anymore."

Peter stepped out of his jeans, freeing his feet, and went to his desk.
Returning with a ruler, he smiled shyly and asked "Can you measure me,
Uncle Pete?" His penis had started to stiffen and thicken immediately, but
did not increase in length.

Pete cleared his throat as he took the ruler.  "I see you're a `shower,'
not a `grower.' That's something else we have in common." Laying the ruler
along the top of the boy's semi-hard penis, he grasped the head and
stretched it to its full length.  "Wow!  Ten-and-a-quarter inches.  That's
bigger than I am now, and you're only thirteen.  You'd be even longer if
you weren't circumsized."

The man stood back and asked "So, you gonna measure me?" He handed the
boy the ruler.

Peter stepped toward him, but hesitated before touching him.  "What do
you mean I'm a `shower?' What's that?"

Pete explained "When you get to high school, you're gonna have to take
PE.  You'll see that some of the boys have tiny penises that hardly hang
down at all.  They're called `growers," because their dicks grow when they
get hard.  Others, like you, will hang down and swing back and forth when
they walk." He swayed back and forth, causing his still flaccid cock to
swing back and forth like a pendulum.  "We're called `showers' because our
full length and thickness `shows' all the time." He stepped forward.  "So,
you gonna measure me or not?"

Peter touched the ruler to the base of his uncle's penis and laid it
down along its length.  "No," said Pete.  "You have to stretch it out to
get an accurate measurement.  Like this." Pete gripped the foreskin of his
uncut penis and pulled it up toward his nephew.  This caused it to cross,
like a sword with the boy's length.  "Measure from the base to the tip."

Peter leaned down, almost forgetting that he was measuring his uncle's
penis as he squinted at the ruler.  "Nine-and-a-half," he pronounced,
obvious pride in his voice.  It wasn't lost on him that his uncle hadn't
been kidding; he really was bigger than him.  He was sure he was bigger
than any of his friends, too.

"I beg your pardon, boy," his uncle grinned.  "I'll have you know that's
nine-and-five-eighths.  It's bad enough that you beat my record by almost
an inch.  Don't cheat me out of that last eighth!" They laughed together
companionably.

Peter spent the rest of the afternoon trying on the various items they'd
bought, testing to see the effects of the jock strap under boxers, the
compression shorts under both his older, tighter jeans and the new, baggy
jeans.  His uncle also showed him that if he allowed his penis to extend
down the leg of his pants, rather than trying to contain it in his briefs,
it was less noticeable, but could be quite painful if trapped that way when
erect.  They were dressed and ready when Peter's mother called them to
dinner.

Uncle and nephew shared many knowing looks over the course of that meal.
Peter also exchanged several glances with his sister as he considered what,
if anything, he should say to her.  He decided he'd consult his uncle, who
must have had to deal with the same question with his own sister.  He
blushed when he realized that his mother also knew about his "problem," and
wondered how he'd ever be able to talk with her about it.  'Maybe Uncle
Pete can help with that, too,' he thought.

Pete knew the boy would have many adventures related to his rather
prodigious organ, but felt that he'd done what he could to prepare him, at
least for the time being.  He planned to have a long talk with his sister
about some of the issues with which she would have to deal over the next
four years, as her well-hung son navigated high school, dating, etc.

   ---------------------------------------------------

Did you like this story?  Want to hear what happens over the summer?  When
Peter starts High school?  What do you think SHOULD happen next?  Email me
at jordan.bradders@nym.hush.com