Date: Mon, 15 Apr 2024 03:54:35 +0200 (CEST)
From: fbravo@tutamail.com
Subject: Grinner and Smiler - Chapter 2

GRINNER & SMILER

This is a story inspired by my own experiences growing up in the UK in the
1960s and 1970s. That doesn't mean it all really happened.

Nor does it mean I condone the actions of the characters. They are simply
depictions of boys and men who get up to certain intimate male activities
that might have taken place a long time ago, but certainly should never
happen now, regardless of how much they enjoyed themselves in the past.

If you are likely to be offended by this story or it is illegal for you to
read such fiction in your country or jurisdiction for whatever reason,
please stop reading now, close this file and step away from the words.

Category: b/b, m/b/ m/bb

			      ***************

Since the story takes place in the UK around 50 years ago, the language
reflects both that period and culture and uses terms commonly used by boys
for their sexual parts and activities at that time. This is how we spoke,
though I admit I'm not aiming for perfect period dialogue. It's the general
sense of the times I'm hoping to convey.

Needless to say, in the UK "pants" are and were "underpants" not trousers.

Also "willy" is rarely a person's name, "spunk" is not "pluck" and "wank"
is not a town in Austria. Hopefully the context should make it easy for
non-UK readers to grasp the intended meanings (amongst other things).

Chapter 2

On the fifteen minute walk to his uncle's, my new friend told me more about
himself than he had in the whole nearly twenty-four hours since we first
met. It turned out that his name was Robert and he didn't mind being called
Rob or Robbie, but drew the line at Bobby.

He had two brothers one older, one younger and they all got on well. Like
me they lived on a council estate, though theirs had a slighter rougher
reputation, but back in the early 1970s this mainly related to different
ways of living and a bit of petty crime as opposed to anything more
serious.

Robert's mum was mainly at home when she wasn't working at a local pub. His
dad on the other hand was rarely at home, since he was a merchant seaman
and worked away at sea for several months at a time.

Robert didn't actually have a snake, but he wanted one when he could get a
paper round to pay for the mice. But he needed a bike first and he was
saving up for a second-hand one from a mate of his big brother's.

And finally the dirty uncle, who was called Uncle Vince, wasn't really his
uncle, but his dad's cousin and best mate since they were kids. He wasn't
sure if they were first cousins or something more distant and neither of us
could work out if that made Rob and him second, third, fourth or fifth
cousins or maybe none of the above. But the important thing was that Uncle
Vince was a good laugh and of course, dirty.

That grin again, that dirty grin.

Robert sounded as excited about seeing Uncle Vince as I felt, although of
course he knew what being dirty meant and I just had vague impression of
something thrilling and probably, hopefully, naughty.

Soon we arrived at the block of flats where Uncle Vince lived and took the
lift to the right floor. It was a typical 1960s block of flats with an open
walkway on each level and rows of front doors.  Robert paused in front of a
red front door that looked quite freshly painted.

"Course, he might not be home" he said.

"Oh no!" I replied, really quite disappointed, though, since I didn't know
why we were there, I was a bit surprised by how much I wanted it.

Robert grinned.

"Doesn't matter though, `cos I've got a key and I know where he keeps all
his dirty stuff."

No need to be disappointed after all then. Either way, Robert and me were
going to be doing something dirty and I felt my willy give a little twitch
in my pants.

But as it turned out, when Robert rang the doorbell, Uncle Vince was at
home.

And even better Uncle Vince was just wearing a towel wrapped around his
waist.

The next few moments were all a bit of blur for me as Uncle Vince welcomed
us in, let us into the hall, shut the door behind us and my stomach flipped
over at the sight of his bare hairy chest, hairy legs, hairy armpits, dark
moustache and dark wavy hair. He looked just like the pop stars and
footballers on TV, except of course he was naked apart from the towel.

I should point out here that back in the 1960s and 1970s it was not at all
rare for little boys to be able to see grown men naked. Male swimming pool
changing rooms and showers were communal and open and everyone wandered
around in the nude, big hairy cocks and little bobbing willies everywhere
you looked. I'd even seen some of my male teachers naked on swimming trips
and so forth.

Footballers and other sportsmen were often photographed for newspapers or
seen on TV in communal baths and though their cocks weren't on display, you
could see every other part of them and posing with their hands over their
privates was viewed as harmless fun. The same was true for male pop and
rock stars because after all this was slap bang in the age of music
festival nudity.

I'd also seen my dad naked many times, though mainly when I was younger
when we shared baths or went swimming. Lately I hadn't had the chance for a
proper good look at his privates.

However, none of this was the same as standing in Uncle Vince's hallway so
close to his nearly naked body that I could see the individual dark hairs
on his chest and poking out from his armpits. He wasn't a giant, but of
course I was only nine, soon to be ten, and as we were both standing, his
face was quite a bit higher than mine, so I had no choice but to stare at
his hairy belly button and pinky-brown nipples.

Uncle Vince tousled Robert's hair playfully.

"How's the Grinner today then?" he said and there was no need to wonder why
because Robert was indeed grinning from ear to ear.

"Alright thanks, Uncle Vince".

"And who's this Smiler you've brough to visit?"

I hadn't realised I was smiling until he said it, but yes I was, and when I
looked up at him I couldn't stop smiling. It was part shyness, part nervous
excitement, but also because I was very happy to be there. I liked Robert a
lot and he obviously liked Uncle Vince a lot, so it seemed only natural
that I would like him too.

"I'm Rick" I said, still smiling, because honestly I couldn't stop smiling.

"Nice to meet you, Tricky Ricky, how's your dicky?"

Robert burst out laughing, which set me off too. I couldn't believe the man
had actually said that to me and we'd only just met. It was shocking,
astonishing, but I loved it. It was like being treated as an equal by this
big, handsome, hairy, nearly naked man. At nine, nearly ten, I didn't have
much experience of that.

"It wasn't that funny!" said Uncle Vince, but he was laughing too, just not
as wildly as us two boys.

Robert put his face close to me and said "Told you!"

If it was meant to be a whisper it didn't work.

"Told him what?" asked Uncle Vince, "Have you been telling tales about me
young Grinner?"

Robert smirked at him.

"Yeah. I told him you were dirty."

Uncle Vince winked at me.

"Well, I suppose that's all right. I mean there's nothing wrong with a
dirty joke, is there, Smiler?"

I smiled and shook my head.

"He said he likes dirty things" said Robert.

"Is that right, Smiler? You like dirty things do you?"

I couldn't deny it and I didn't want to.

"Yes."

Uncle Vince tousled my hair.

"That's makes three of us then, Smiler. Dirty things are a great laugh. I
like dirty things and Grinner here is a proper dirty boy given half a
chance."

"He plays with his willy in bed" blurted out Robert.

He was clearly enjoying this and getting a bit giddy with the naughtiness
of it all. I instinctively grabbed him and put my hand over his mouth.

"Ssshh!"

But I didn't really mind. I was just taken by surprise. Somehow I knew
Uncle Vince wouldn't be shocked by the news and he wasn't.

"Well of course he plays with his willy in bed. It's his willy and he can
do what he likes with it. And you play with yours all the time, Grinner, so
you can't talk."

Robert grinned. Dirtier than ever.

"Anyway," said Uncle Vince, "you've caught me in a bit of a hurry. I've got
to have a bath and go out in a bit."

Robert looked sideways at me.

"Can we come and talk to you when you're in the bath then?"

I held my breath waiting for the answer.

"Course you can" said Uncle Vince "We're all boys here, got the same bits."

He smiled at me.

"But only if you want to, Smiler."

I didn't hesitate.

"Yes, please."

Uncle Vince turned around in the hallway.

"Come on then."

As he turned, he whipped his towel off. Suddenly he was totally naked. He
stuck his bum out and smacked both his bare hairy cheeks just like Robert
had the day before in the woods when he was peeing.

"Smack, smack, who's going to wash my back?"

He ran down the hall, waving the towel in the air, and disappeared into the
bathroom with Robert and me in hot pursuit. Obviously I couldn't help
noticing that his bum cheeks were also hairy and when he bent over the
hairs carried on into the crack, where, assuming men's bodies were the same
as boys', his bum-hole must live.

For some reason it made me feel a bit light-headed thinking about Uncle
Vince's hairy bum-hole.

But suddenly we were in the bathroom, Robert, me and naked Uncle Vince and
I could see EVERYTHING!

He had obviously been running the bath when we rang the doorbell, because
it was half full with water and still steaming a little. He was turning on
the taps to finish the job, sitting on the edge of the bath. Obviously my
eyes went straight to his lap and what I saw made me gasp. Uncle Vince's
willy was huge. At least it was to my eyes. It was a fat, long sausage of a
willy that hung down over two big fat dangly balls covered in wiry dark
hairs. There was so much thick dark hair all round his privates, a wide and
deep springy triangle above his willy, that spread either side of his balls
and across into the tops of his thighs. His foreskin looked soft, veiny and
generous and covered his knob completely, not that I knew much about knobs
at that point.

All in all Uncle Vince's willy and balls were bloody lovely!

I heard Robert giggle and I snapped out of what felt like a short, but
wonderful trance.

"Look at you" he laughed "Can't take your eyes off his big old willy and
balls."

Part of me was mortified that he'd seen me staring and said it out loud,
but by now I was coming to understand that Uncle Vince wouldn't mind at
all.

"Nothing wrong with having a look," he said as he swivelled round on the
side of the bath and – oh wow! – opened his legs wide so everything
was now on display in front of me.

"You have as much of a look as you like, Smiler. It's only natural for boys
to be curious about grown up cocks and balls. I loved seeing them when I
was a kid, so I know what it's like and it's only natural. Anyway I'm used
to it because young Grinner here always wants to have a good look at my
privates."

"Shut up!" squeaked Rob, but he was still grinning, so I knew he wasn't
serious.

"It's true. He comes round here all the time hoping to catch me in the bath
so he can see my world famous penis."

"Do not."

"Well I don't mind who sees it. Have you seen many penises, Smiler?"

To be honest, penis was not a word I knew (remember this was the early 70s
and we didn't do proper naming of the parts in school), but it was pretty
clear it was another word for a willy, a pisser, a winkle, a todger or a
widdler, which just about exhausted my nine year old's knowledge of names
for a boy's thing.

"I've seen my brother's and my dad's and some men and kids in the swimming
baths."

"And mine when I was peeing" chipped in Rob.

So he had caught me looking at him after all.

Oh well. Yesterday's quick rude thrill in the woods seemed a long way off
from Uncle Vince naked in his bathroom today.

"But you've not been able to have a proper close look I suppose."

"No."

"Well, here's your chance, Smiler."

Uncle Vince cupped his balls and willy and jiggled them up and down.

"I've got the full set here. One cock, two balls, one ballbag, one foreskin
–"

With a quick movement of his fingers he skinned back and out slid an
astonishing and mysterious dark red plum, which was probably the dirtiest
thing I had ever seen.

" – one knob, one piss slit for the pissing just like yours, but also
for the spunking when you're older."

He let go of his foreskin, but the big fat plum – his knob – stayed
exposed.

"Do you know what spunk is, Smiler?"

I shook my head.

"Well, plenty of time for that."

"Spunk's lovely, really dirty." piped up Rob.

Uncle Vince laughed.

"Spunk, pubes, you've got all that ahead of you boys. I suppose you haven't
got any hairs on your willy yet, Smiler?"

I shook my head again.

"Thought not at your age. But some boys do get them early. Grinner's still
got a bald willy, but it sounds like you know that already."

He reached behind him to test the water and turned off the taps.

"But I do have to get a move on now. Dirty Uncle Vince needs to get clean
fast. Sit down boys and we can carry on chatting while I soap up."

Like most bathrooms there wasn't really much choice of places to sit, so
Rob went and sat on the edge of the bath and I perched on the toilet
lid. For the first time I realised that my willy had become incredibly
stiff in my pants. Hardly any wonder as this was without a doubt the
sexiest experience of my entire life.  I ached to pull my shorts and pants
down and squeeze my erect willy really hard as hairy, naked Uncle Vince
climbed into the bath and eased his body back. I noticed that Rob's hand
was between his legs and he seemed to be pressing against his willy. I
wondered if his was as stiff as mine. And what it looked like sticking
right up.

Uncle Vince had taken a bar of soap from the side of the bath – shower
gel was still several years in the future – and begun soaping up his
arms and hairy chest. The white lather against the dark hairs on his arms
and torso excited me even more. It was so different to when I soaped up my
hairless body in the bath.

"First thing you have to decide when you get in the bath" he said "is
whether you have to piss in the bath or not."

Rob and I both burst out laughing.

"It's true, though, isn't it? Even if you haven't noticed needing a piss
when you get in, the minute the hot water touches your willy, sometimes you
really have to go."

He paused for a moment and wiggled about in the bath, literally testing the
waters, I suppose you could say.

"No," he continued, "Reckon I'm all right for now. I bet you pee in the
bath sometimes, Smiler."

"Oh yeah, sometimes."

I sniggered. It was fun talking to a grown up about peeing in the bath.

"Grinner's special trick is to pee right out of his stiff willy in the
bath. I tell you, he can get some height when he's on form. Like a bloody
fountain."

I looked at Rob.

"You said that was your little brother."

"It is" he insisted, "But yeah I used to do it as well."

"I used to call him The Little Pissing Boy" continued Vince, "Like the
statue in Belgium."

Not France or Spain then. I hadn't heard of Belgium but it sounded like a
good place if they liked little boys peeing.

He lathered up his hands, then ran them through his hair and over his face
and moustache.

"No time for shampoo today" he said, "Just a quick soap round all the
bits. Do my back will you Grinner, there's a good lad."

I watched as Rob took the bar of soap from Uncle Vince, who leaned forward
to give access to his back. Rob began washing his back, rubbing his soapy
hands all over his muscles. I really wished it was me doing it. A few
times, Rob's hands disappeared into the water while Uncle Vince hunched
further forward and I realised with a thrill that he must be rubbing the
soap over Uncle Vince's big hairy bum.

No one was speaking now and the atmosphere in the bathroom became somehow
strangely alive as though crackling with invisible, silent electricity.

I watched as Uncle Vince lay back in the bath with his eyes closed, while
Rob began washing his hairy chest with slow, circular, soapy
movements. After a few moments he slid his whole body forward a little and
ducked his head backwards under the water to rinse the soap off his hair,
moustache and face. In the same moment he pushed his hips up out of the
water and I saw his huge willy now fully erect pointing up his belly.

I gasped and Rob looked across at me with that dirty grin spreading over
his face. He pointed a soapy finger at Uncle Vince's erection and then made
a pouty ooh face, which looked incredibly dirty. He moved to kneel down at
the side of the bath and to my astonishment and delight, wrapped his soapy
hand around the man's stiff cock and pulled the foreskin down to expose
that amazing red plum now – or knob as I now knew it was called -
obscenely swollen to three or even four times the size it had been when the
willy was soft.

Uncle Vince lifted his head out of the water, but kept his hips pushed up
and both he and I watched mesmerised as Rob gave him the dirtiest, soapiest
wank in the world. His hands looked small holding and stroking the
comparatively huge, erect cock and sometimes he used both hands at the same
time. The swollen red knob kept sliding in and out of the loose foreskin
like some sort of rude, pulsing lightbulb. Rob kept looking at me as he
wanked it, grinning and obviously proud of both his willy-handling skills
and his dirtiness to be seen doing such a thing by another boy.

Uncle Vince suddenly stood up in the bath, water running off his hairy
body. Rob let go of the erection and Uncle Vince took over, wanking himself
fast and furiously. His voice came out ragged and breathy as he announced –

"Watch me spunk, boys!"

Suddenly jets of what looked like white cream began to squirt out of his
peehole. One, two hit the tiles on the wall at the end of the bath, three
hit the tap, four, five, six hit the bath water. I had no idea what was
going on, but it was the most wonderful and dirty thing I had ever seen. I
watched open-mouthed as Uncle Vince squeezed a few last drops of the cream
out of his slit and flicked them deftly into the bath water.

"Rob gives a great wank" he said, stepping out of the bath and grabbing a
towel, "but when you're in a hurry you don't want the spunk shooting up in
your pubes and belly hairs because it turns to jelly in the water and it's
a bugger to pick out. So it's best to stand up sharpish when you get close,
then wank yourself off into the water, but jump out straight after"

He was drying himself vigorously as he spoke.

"Course little boys like you don't need to worry about spunk and pubes and
hairy bellies yet, but your time will come and now you'll be prepared. Like
spunking scouts."

He laughed and taking the towel with him walked into the hall.

"I've got to get dressed and dash out now, but you two stay as long as you
want. I expect you've got lots to talk about. Let the bath water out first
though, Grinner."

He winked at me.

"Nice to meet you, Smiler. Don't pull your willy off."

I realised my hand was inside my pants gripping my erection for dear life.

Uncle Vince went off to get dressed.

Rob grinned at me.

"Told you he was dirty, didn't I?"



...

So that's Chapter 2. I hope you enjoyed it. Lots more dirty adventures to
follow in Chapter 3.

Thanks to all the readers who have contacted me. It's very encouraging.

I wondered if this story would have most appeal to those British readers
who like me remember their own sexy dirty times in the 1960s and 1970s, but
it seems to work for readers from other countries and ages too, which is
very pleasing.

Old and new readers please feel free to email to let me know if you like
it, make suggestions or just chat. It's always great to hear from you and
meet new friends and fellow nostalgia wankers!

You can contact me on fbravo@tutamail.com

And please consider making a donation to help Nifty keep doing what it does
so well.