Uncle Phil's Legacy

by Tim Mead

Chapter 8


Jeff worked the week between Christmas and New Year's.  Since many of his fellow UbiCo employees had taken vacation time that week, the large building seemed deserted.  Macey was one of those who had taken off, so even his lunches were solitary.

He did have a couple of new hires to process, however, one of whom was transferring from elsewhere in the company and another who was new to UbiCo.  Both were to start on January 4, the first work day of the new year.

He also used the time to get caught up on all of his "paperwork," most of which was actually done on his computer.

Each morning and afternoon he checked his personal email.  He received a message from Doug Curtis saying that Mark Mason was doing well, though he still had a long road ahead of him.  Doug suggested that Jeff and Sam come for supper at an unspecified date early in January.  He said they'd be back in touch soon.

How did they know about Sam and me? Jeff wondered.  It's a small town, of course, but we haven't been out together, just the two of us, in Lake Polk since we had dinner at Arpeggio.  

One day that week he got an email from Ian with a folder attached.  When Jeff unzipped it, he found a dozen pictures of Agatha, some of the many snaps the boy had taken that Sunday afternoon.  Ian also told him he'd gotten an A on his paper, and he thanked Jeff for all his help.

Another day, with little to do and none of his co-workers nearby, Jeff found himself thinking about his new life in Lake Polk.  For one thing, he'd always hated to go back to work in Illinois after the holidays.  Januarys were gray, damp, and, from a Floridian's perspective, very cold, especially hard to face when he'd been with Buddy and Phil in Lake Polk at Christmas.  But January here was invariably dry and sunny.  Some of Central Florida's coolest weather came in January, but it was nothing like the Illinois cold.  And Jeff had to admit he loved that brief respite from the pervasive warmth.

Socially he was making progress.  Although the loss of his uncle had been devastating, he'd come to be on friendly if not intimate terms with a number of his co-workers in HR.  Macey had become a close friend, though Jeff expected she'd inevitably pull away a bit now that she'd found Captain George . . . whom Jeff was really curious to meet.

He'd also met people through the church and the car club and he expected as time passed to get to know some of those folks better.

And then there was Sam.  He wasn't sure that he and Sam were destined to become lifetime partners, but he had no doubt they were pretty much into a relationship that had long-term possibilities.  The word boyfriend had actually been used, and that was promising.

They'd talked about what to do on New Year's Eve.  Neither had been invited to a party.  Sam said his parents were going to a formal affair at the Lake Polk Country Club and wouldn't be home until late.  

"Dad claims to hate putting on what he calls his monkey suit, but he thinks it's good for business.  I'm not so sure of that.  We don't get too many of the country club set in here.  I think he does it just for Mom, who likes to get all dolled up to see and be seen at the C.C."

"I think it's nice.  Be sure to take a picture of them in their fancy duds."

"Terrific idea!  Now, I have a suggestion.  My place is small and isn't as, uh, imposing as yours but would you like to come over?  We could order in pizza and watch movies.  And open a bottle of the fizzy stuff for when the ball drops."  There was a twinkle in his eyes as he continued, "Of course you wouldn't want to be out when all the drunks were on their way home.  So you could spend the night."

Jeff chuckled.  "Dude, my place is less than ten minutes from there by foot."

But an evening on a sofa with Sam sounded just about perfect to Jeff, so he agreed.


New Year's Eve was on a Friday.  Jeff had come home at noon.  Actually his boss had said he didn't need to come in at all, but since the boss was taking the day off and Jeff was second in command, he decided he'd be there for the half-day.  

That afternoon he busied himself getting papers together for his income taxes.  Stan had told him that he and Doug would take care of doing the taxes, especially since they were complicated by the settling of the estate, but he'd given Jeff a list of the various forms they would need.

In going through Phil's files earlier, Jeff had found a 9"x12" manila envelope with a note clipped to it:  "Jeff, please give this to Stan Mason."  He put it with the other tax documents he was assembling for the lawyer.

Mid-afternoon his phone beeped, alerting him that he'd received a text message.  It was from Sam, asking what he liked on his pizza.  

anything but anchovies, was his response.

closing store @ 6:00.  come anytime after that.

okay.  can I bring a flick?

yeah, but I got 1, 2.

good.  that'll get us thru til midnight.

Since he wanted to be awake, alert, ready for anything that evening, Jeff stretched out on the sofa in the family room.  His last thoughts before drifting off to sleep were that it seemed silly to call it a family room when he lived there alone.

When he awoke, he shaved, showered, and douched.  He put on a tee, a button-up shirt, and a comfortable pair of khakis.  No underpants.  He wondered how long it would take Sam to discover that lack.


He put clean socks and a tee shirt plus his toilet kit in his shoulder bag. When he arrived at the Dudeks', he parked on the street since he didn't know whether Sam's parents had left yet.

Jeff walked around the house and knocked on Sam's door.  It was a minute or so after 7:00.

"Nitwit," Sam said, after hugging Jeff and giving him a brief kiss.


"When I said to come anytime, I hoped you'd give me a clue when you'd be here.  I didn't know when to order the pizza."

"Poor baby.  You've worked all day and you're starved?"

"Yeah, I'm hungry.  But this is New Year's Eve.  Who knows how long it will take to get a pizza?"

"Sorry, babe.  Would it help if we called Pizza Hut and then picked it up?"

"It might.  Let's see."  Sam pulled his phone from the pocket of his khakis and pressed a button.

"You have Pizza Hut on speed dial?  I thought you ate with your parents."

"Not always."  Then he turned his attention to ordering a pizza with pepperoni, Italian sausage, green peppers, mushrooms, and extra cheese.

"It'll be half an hour."

"I should have brought beer.  I'm sorry."

"I've got beer.  And red wine, if you'd rather."

"I'd rather kiss you."  He pulled Sam close so that they were chest to chest, groin to groin.  Jeff put his hands on Sam's hard little butt cheeks and began to knead as they kissed.  

Sam put his hands on Jeff's back, one above the other and began to make small circles with them.

No, no!  Grab my ass!  Jeff thought.  But then he realized that what Sam was doing felt great.  The kiss went on for what seemed like ages, yet all too soon they had to break apart to breathe.


Sam shook his head.  "Pizza first.  We've ordered it, so we have to pick it up."

"But I'm so hard," Jeff whined.

Sam felt Jeff's hard cock through his khakis.  "Yes, you are!  Maybe you'll have to stay in the car."

Matching Sam's actions, Jeff said, "But so will you.  Unless you want us both to go into Pizza Hut with our boners showing."

"That'd be kind of a hoot.  It is party night, after all.  But this is Lake Polk, so we'd better try thinking pure thoughts or something."

They stood there, still facing each other, still horny.

"Somehow, I can't seem to come up with any pure thoughts.  What are we gonna do?"

"Pull it up and tuck the head in the waistband of your underpants."

"Jeez, I haven't done that in years!"

"Can you think of anything better?"

Sam unfastened his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and began arranging his cock as suggested.

"Christ, Dudek, how'm I gonna get mine to go down when you do that?"

"Sweetie, it was your suggestion.  Looks like you'd better do the same.  And while you're doing that, I'll get my car keys."

Jeff was grateful for the change of topic.  He didn't want to come right out and admit he was free-balling.  "My car's out front."

"Cool."  They walked around the house and down the driveway to the street.  "Dude, why do you drive that Subaru when you could be driving Phil's Beemer?"

"Well . . . .  As you said, it's Phil's Beemer.  Besides, I feel a little ostentatious driving such an expensive car."

"But it is a great ride, right?"

"Oh, yeah!"

"So are you going to keep it stashed away in your garage until it's a classic?  That could take twenty years, you know, and you'll be an old man of, what?  Forty-eight by then?"

"Okay, I get the point.  Whenever I'm going to be around you I'll bring the BMW."

Sam sighed.  "Babe, you've missed the point entirely."

Puzzled, Jeff asked, "What?"

"You should be having fun!  Why make an antique of the BMW when you could be enjoying it now?  Besides, you've got a classy antique already."

Jeff laughed. "Chill, man.  I hear ya.  I'll allow myself to drive the Beemer sometimes.  And you know what?  I've already got it on my calendar to bring Aggie to the January Lake Polk car cruise-in."

"We're expecting a good turn-out for that one."

With the talk of cars, by the time they got to the Pizza Hut their erections had subsided . . . temporarily.

Jeff insisted on paying for the pizza.  "You bought bubbly for later, right?"


"And it probably cost more than the pizza.  Or at least I hope it did."

Sam chuckled.  "Yeah, since you mention it, it did.  But still. . . ."

"But still nothing.  I'll get this."

When they got back to the apartment, Sam asked, "Beer or red wine?"

"Red, I think.  If I drink beer all evening and then have champagne I'll be full of gas."

"How romantic.  But I know what you mean.  So what are we watching?"

Sam had selected To Have and Have Not.

"It's not as good as Casablanca.  And I don't think whoever wrote the screenplay had ever read Hemingway's novel.  Obviously they adapted it to fit in with World War 2, which was going on at the time.  But it's Bogey and Bacall.  And I think they're even better together than Bogey and Bergman.  They were married not long after they made the movie, so the chemistry had to be great, yeah?"

"Okay, okay.  I haven't seen this one, so let's do it."

They ate pizza and drank zinfandel as they watched the movie.  Later they snuggled closer together.  As he enjoyed the heat from Sam's body, Jeff felt comfortable, very much at home, though this was his first evening at Sam's place.

When the movie ended, they took their plates and the empty pizza box to the kitchen.  Sam poured the last of the wine into their glasses.  Jeff put his DVD into the player, and they settled down again on the sofa.

Sam ran his fingers through Jeff's blond locks.  "Why do you wear your hair so short?"

"Because it's so damned curly.  If I let it grow out even a little bit I look like a friggin' choir boy."

"Come to think of it, you'd look a lot like Ryan Phillippe."

"And he doesn't look like a friggin' choir boy?"

Again Sam's sexy chuckle.

"Not so much these days.  But yeah, like back when he did 54 he did.  Sexy, though.  I was sixteen at the time, and he really turned me on.  Have you seen the film?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Well, it seemed like he had his shirt off during most of the movie.  And I was hot and hard the whole time."

"He was a lot blonder then than he is now.  Wonder how that happened?"  Jeff said, smirking.

"Okay, okay, you're a real blond.  But he was cute then and still is.  You're sexier.  And you'd look awesome if you let your hair grow."

"Ya think?"

"Uh huh."

"If I let it grow out much it'd look like an Afro.  Have you ever seen Josh Koschek?"

"Who's that?"

"He's a UFC fighter.  Has curly hair which he bleaches most of the time.  And it looks like a blond Afro."

"Oh.  Well, it's your hair.  And I'll think you sizzle however you wear it, okay?"

They kissed awhile, and then Sam asked what movie Jeff had brought.

"An Affair to Remember."

"Oh, I love that!"

"That makes it official.  We're both gay!"

"Did you have any doubt?"

Although he knew the movie well, Jeff enjoyed watching it again.  And being there next to Sam didn't hurt his appreciation of the experience.  In other circumstances he might have been eager to get the movie over with or simply start letting his hands rove.  But he knew they were supposed to watch the Times Square celebration of the New Year and drink some champagne.  There'd be plenty of time to explore Sam later.

He wasn't surprised to see tears in Sam's eyes when the movie ended.  He'd always found it impossible not to sniffle a little when the story was finished and the credits started to roll.

"Glad you brought that one," Sam said.  He leaned toward Jeff and pulled him into a sweet, slow, searching, tender kiss.

"Oh, wow!" Jeff said when they finished.  Their foreheads and noses touched.  "We'll have to watch it again soon if it gets me kisses like that."

"Honey, you can have kisses like that anytime you want."  Sam proceeded to demonstrate what he meant.

After a period of exploration, Jeff's glance lit on a clock near the TV.  

"Sam, I'm happy to do this, just, like, all night.  But if we're gonna watch the ball drop, we'd better turn on the TV."

"Oh, yeah, right," Sam said, sounding as if he couldn't have cared less about the Times Square celebration.  He picked up the remote, switched the source from the DVD player to the satellite, and there were all the insane people in NYC.

"Come on, you can help."

They went into the kitchen.

"Get the fizzy out of the fridge."  He picked up two flutes sitting on the counter next to the dish rack.  

Jeff figured Sam had washed them earlier since they'd probably been in the cupboard for a year at least.  He couldn't help wondering how Sam had spent the previous New Year's Eve, but it really wasn't any of his business.  They'd agreed when they'd first started doing things together that they weren't ready to talk about their exes.

"Do you want any munchies with your bubbly?"

"No, I'm good, thanks."

They carried the bottle and the glasses back to the living area.  Sam had a tea towel draped over his arm.  The design on it was so faded it had to be a hand-me-down.  Jeff thought briefly about how nice it must be to have family.

They put down the things they were carrying and watched the TV.  Their timing was perfect, as the countdown had begun.  When the ball hit bottom, they kissed enthusiastically.

"Happy New Year, Jeff!"

"Happy New Year, Sam!"

Sam draped the towel over the top of the bottle and worked the cork out with his thumbs.  The towel caught the cork, preventing it from flying across the room.  And from spilling champagne on the floor.

He poured some of the golden fluid into each glass.

They clinked glasses and drank.

"You know," Jeff said, "I think this is gonna be a really good year.  I'm glad I could see it in with you, Sam."

Sam put down his glass.  "Come here, choirboy."  When Jeff set his glass beside Sam's and moved closer, the two kissed again.  

While frenetic twaddle from the TV filled the air, they sat and sipped their champagne, taking time occasionally for a lick or a nuzzle.

After a while, Sam said, "This stuff's crap."

"What, the champagne?"

"No, the stuff on the TV."

"Well, what do you expect?  It's just shy of 1:00 on New Year's morning."

"We could go to bed."

"I'm down with that, but what about the bubbly?  It won't keep."

"Let's have another glass and then go to bed."

When Jeff nodded his agreement, Sam refilled their glasses and dumped what little was left down the kitchen drain.

He lifted his glass.  "To a great year!"

"To a great year!"

Jeff practically chugged his, as if he were throwing back a shot of whiskey.

"Hey, man.  That's pretty good stuff, and you're dissing it."

"Sorry.  I just want to get naked with you.  That's the way to celebrate a new year."

"Or the ending of an old one.  Or just about anything else.  Besides, it's been driving me crazy that you're freeballing."

"Oh, you noticed that, did you?"

"You better believe it!"  Sam finished his wine, washed, rinsed, and dried both glasses, and began turning out lights. "You can use the bathroom first."

Soon both men were lying naked in Sam's bed, once more nuzzling, stroking, and kissing.  Jeff unfastened Sam's pony tail, loving the cascade of honey-colored hair that resulted.

After a while Sam said, "The Brits call this `snogging.'  Good word for it.  It's nice."

"Yeah.  Now snog me some more!"

The tender, gentle mood lasted.  At some point Sam got on top of Jeff, supporting himself on his forearms and knees as they continued to kiss, their hard cocks pressing against each other's bodies.  And from pressing to grinding.  And from grinding to nearly simultaneous explosions.  

Suddenly there was a lot of creamy goo, which changed the feel of the grinding.  So they continued the kiss, giggling occasionally, enjoying the new slipperiness.  

Finally, Jeff rolled onto his right side, pulling Jeff onto his left side.  They held each other tight, coming down from their high, occasionally stealing a kiss or giving the other a pelvic thrust.  

Jeff, thoroughly contented, had almost drifted off to sleep when Sam said, "Hang on.  I'll be back in a minute."

Jeff whimpered.

Sam returned with a warm, moist wash cloth and a dry towel, with which he cleaned up first Jeff and then himself.

"Mmmm.  `Preciate the service, lover."

"Hold that thought."

Sam took the cloth and towel back to the bathroom and returned to bed.

"Lover, huh?  Like that."

"Love you!  `Nite."

Perhaps because he was in a strange bed, Jeff woke up first the next morning.  Sam was lying naked on his stomach, still sound asleep, beautiful little butt on display.  Oh, God!  Lying there on his side, head propped in his hand, Jeff was content to admire.  But his morning boner wasn't.

This man has really turned you into a horndog, he thought.

Although he was practically salivating, he lay still, not wanting to wake up his sleeping friend.  Finally, however, Sam rolled onto his side, opened one eye, saw Jeff, and smiled.

"Mornin', lover."

"Happy New Year!"

Sam eyed Jeff's boner and his smile broadened.  "Can I help you with that?"

"Well, yeah.  Eventually, but what I'd really like to do is munch on that ass."

Sam put on a look of faked surprise.  "What?  Before breakfast?"

"Fuck breakfast.  Unless you're really hungry, of course."

Sam's smile disappeared.  "Baby, although I don't see what's so great about it, my ass is all yours.  But there's, um, kind of a problem."

"Like what?"

"It's been over twelve hours since I cleaned out.  And no way are you gonna put any part of you there until I've prepared myself properly."


Jeff realized he'd want to do the same thing.  And he couldn't quite see himself douching in Sam's bathroom while Sam waited outside.  They weren't that domesticated yet.

"So what are we gonna do?

"Your folks are going away today, aren't they?"

"Yeah.  They're leaving late morning to go to Palm Harbor to have New Year's supper with friends.  And they're staying over."

"Okay.  We never talked about what we'd do today.  Do you have any plans?"

"Basically, I'm free until I open the shop Monday morning."

"Okay.  How about this?  I'll go home now.  You can do your cleanup, or cleanout, and I'll do the same.  Then you come over and spend the day.  I don't have any black-eyed peas, but you can help me make a pot of soup for later.  Maybe we coould take Agatha out for a spin or something."

"Let me fix you breakfast first.  I can do bacon and eggs."

By this time Jeff had lost his boner, but he knew he could get it back anytime Sam was around.  "Okay, you hit the john.  Be sure to put on an apron at least if you're cooking bacon.  I'll use the bathroom when you're finished."

Sam grinned.  "I was planning to put on something warmer than an apron.  It's chilly in here this morning."

So, after breakfast, Jeff hurried home to clean himself up and inspect his larder for soup makings.


When Sam arrived Jeff took him straight to the bedroom.  

Chuckling, Sam said, "Man, you're really single-minded this morning!"

"I won't be able to think straight until I've had a go at the most beautiful butt in captivity."


"Okay, poor choice of terms.  I don't want you to feel like a captive.  So, take off your clothes.  If you don't mind, that is."

Grinning wickedly, Sam asked, "What should I take off first?"

Jeff licked his lips.  "Doesn't matter, just so it all comes off.  Do you need help?"

"No, I'll do it."

Jeff began slowly pulling off the USF Bulls sweatshirt he'd worn that morning.  Under it he had a green tee.

"You're certainly in the old school colors this morning."

"Purely chance.  The tee was on top of the pile.  Now, should I take it off next, or do my shoes?"

"Whatever, dude!"

There was an easy chair with a hassock in Jeff's big bedroom.  Sam sat on the hassock and untied the laces on his sneakers.  He slowly slipped one off.  Then the other.  Next with agonizing deliberation he began to peel off one of the socks.

"I'm gonna get you for this, Dudek, I swear I am!"

"You won't have to work very hard to get me, Mr. Elder."

"So get on with it!"

Sam stood and unbuckled his belt.  Then he unbuttoned his khakis and slid the zipper down with all the speed of cold molasses.  

Jeff was already naked and boned up.  He crossed his arms and tried to look pissed off.  Actually he was enjoying the show enormously.

Sam dropped trou to reveal skimpy white bikini briefs.

"Oh, Jesus.  Not many guys can get away with those, but on you they're hot, hot, hot!"

Sam turned slowly.  "Do you really think so?"

"I think you're an evil person."  Jeff bent over, grabbed the scrap of white cotton, and pulled it to Sam's ankles.

"Step out of those!"

"Yes, boss."

While waiting for Sam, Jeff had stripped everything off his bed except the bottom sheet.

Now he grabbed Sam from behind and pushed him face down onto the bed.  "Scoot up a bit.  Good.  Now, put your ass in the air."  When Sam complied, Jeff shoved a pillow under Sam's hips.

He stood there admiring the view for so long Sam looked back at him and asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing is wrong.  It's perfect."

He got on the bed, bit each cheek hard enough to leave teeth marks, and then buried his face in Sam's trench.


Although Jeff had been looking forward to this moment for days, for him the greatest satisfaction came from Sam's reactions, his moans, gasps, gurgles, and whimpers.  Finally, Jeff's licking and probing came to an end when Sam pleaded with him.

"Jeff, baby, I need . . ."

"What do you need?  Tell me, Sam."

"Bastard!  You gonna make me beg?"

"Not beg, no.  Just tell me what you really, really want."

"I want something bigger and longer and harder than your tongue.  Think you got anything like that?"

Jeff chuckled.  "Oh, do I ever!  But you'll have to wait a minute while I pop on a rubber and apply some lube."

Sam groaned and began wiggling his butt from side to side.

"Okay, okay, I'm hurrying."  But in his hurry it seemed to take him much longer than usual to roll the condom onto his dick and lube it up.  Just for good measure, he applied a goodly amount to Sam's pulsing anus.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!"

"Why Sam!  I didn't think you were so religious."

"Fucker!  Fuck me, fucker!"

Later, he peeled off the condom and put it in the trash can he kept by the bedside.  The one he always emptied himself, not wanting Etta to find condoms or cummy tissues.

"Now, stud, roll over."

Sam complied.  Jeff hadn't managed to fuck the cum out of him, so he began licking Sam's big balls.  

"Oh, Jeffie, you don't have to do that . . . ."

"Of course I do.  I'm not gonna leave my man unsatisfied."

It didn't take long.  There was no mess to clean up because Jeff had swallowed.  He was impressed with how much Sam spent, considering they'd both cum about twelve hours earlier.  He chuckled.

Sam stroked his hair and asked, "What?"

"I guess we're not losing it yet."

"Well, you, shall we say, inspire me?"

"And you, me."

After showering together in the big master bath, they went down to the kitchen where they had sandwiches.  Then Sam helped Jeff chop veggies for a recipe Phil had called Cajun Cabbage Soup.

When the soup was simmering gently, they went to the TV room and watched two bowl games, Jeff going back occasionally to add more broth to the soup.


The next day was Sunday, the day after New Year's.  The two men had breakfast together and then took Agatha for a spin in the country.  It was still cold, so they put the top up.  Jeff thought about calling to see if Ian wanted to go with them, but he didn't, fearing he'd be intruding on Ian's holiday weekend with his mother.

After eating leftover soup for lunch, Sam excused himself.

"Hate to leave, Jeff, but I gotta go do laundry.  Gotta open the shop tomorrow morning."

"But since yesterday was New Year's and that was a Saturday, Monday's a holiday."

"For banks and the Postal Service, yeah.  But the mall stores are open.  More importantly, Lowe's and Home Depot are, too.  So our place will be open as well."

They parted with hugs and kisses, promising that they'd call or text each other.

Though there were skeleton crews at the UbiCo facility, especially in the Claims Processing department, Jeff didn't have to work.  He was tempted to go in anyway.  He'd missed Macey.  But he knew she wouldn't be there, so he stayed home, did some laundry himself, caught up on his email, and read an Anthony Bidulka mystery Sam had lent him.

That night he had trouble getting to sleep.  Much had happened in the last year.  He'd moved a thousand miles from where he'd been living in Illinois.  He'd lost Buddy just over a year ago and Phil a couple of months ago.  He had no other family except his parents, who despised him. He'd had friends in Bloomington, even some fuck-buddies who'd been around for a year or so, serially, not at the same time.  

But since he was a teen he'd always thought of this house as the closest thing to home he had in his life.  Now the house was his.  But with Buddy and Phil gone, was it home?  That remained to be seen.  And whether it was or not might very much depend on Sam Dudek.


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