Date: Mon, 19 Sep 2022 17:20:08 +0000 From: SFWolf Subject: "Hunting with Uncle Mike" Chapter VI The following story is is an original work of fiction, based on some actual events. The author is over the age of eighteen. This story depicts sexual situations between adult and minor males. If this context is illegal where you reside, or you otherwise find it offensive, please do not read it. Move on to a more suitable story for you. If you are under the age of eighteen, do not read this story. This story is a slow-build that will unfold over multiple chapters. I welcome feedback, both positive responses and constructive criticism, at sfwolf@protonmail.com. If you like what you're reading on Nifty, please make sure to donate at https://donate.nifty.org/ to keep this FREE site going. Hunting WIth Uncle Mike CHAPTER 6 The next Saturday, I had to be up and out early for my community service time that's required for graduation. I was doing a ride-along with a police officer. I slept through my first `soft' alarm, then woke up for the hard one a half-hour later. I had raging morning wood, and I was feeling super horny. I pulled out my shoebox, unwrapped Uncle Mike's boxers and the lotion and started stroking as I breathed through the crotch. I shot a nice big load, then fell back asleep. I didn't wake up again until I heard my mom knocking hard on my door. "KEVIN! It's 8:00. You need to be there in 30 minutes and it's going to take that long to drive there!" `FUCK,' I thought. "OK, I'm up." I grabbed some not-so-dirty clothes off the floor and pulled them on as I ran out the door carrying my shoes. "Is your laundry ready," Mom asked as I passed the kitchen. "It's in the corner, by the hamper." I made it just in time, and I was paired up with a female officer. Mostly we just drove around making awkward conversation and we gave out one traffic ticket. I was done at 4:00 and made my way home. When I opened the door, my mom was sitting on the couch with my shoebox open on the coffee table. I was horrified. She was calm, but looked concerned. "I understand what some of this is. I had brothers, and the lotion and the sock I would expect. But whose are these?" she asked picking the boxers up by the waistband. The undershirt was in its bag underneath the empty boxers bag. "Mine." "No, they're not. I know what you wear, and these aren't even your size." "Well, they're not yours," I added sarcastically. "Right. Then who's were they before they were `yours.'" `FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!' I had to think fast. "Those are...some guy...from school's." "And what are they doing in your shoebox with an undershirt?" "I stole them as a prank. It was me and a couple of other guys from the team." "And you kept them individually-wrapped in plastic bags with your personal items as a `prank?' What's really going on here?" She stopped for a moment gathering her thoughts and carefully planning her next words. "Are you gay, Kevin?" "I don't know. I'm not sure. It's complicated." "You can tell me. I have no problem with it if you are." We sat in silence, looking at each other for a long time. "You can tell me. I've already been through this once before. Your Uncle Mike is gay, and I don't love him any less." "What!? How long? How long have you known?" I played along. "He is. I've known since we moved back. He wanted to tell you himself, someday when he was ready and you were old enough. "Why hasn't anybody ever said anything?" Now I was curious about what and how much she knew. "Your Uncle Norm and Aunt Jeanette were never very supportive of his lifestyle. He told me way before he told anyone else." I waited. A long time. Was this the right time? How was I even going to say this? Fuck it, Band Aid yanked off. "Well, ok then. I've never been into girls, and I like guys. So, I guess I'm gay then." "And you're sure about this?" "Pretty sure. I've been thinking about it for a long time." "I think you and your uncle have some things to talk about. You should tell him yourself. Now come give me a hug." she said as she opened her arms wide. I felt the corners of my eyes start to water as we hugged; awkwardly leaning toward each other. I kept myself together and didn't really start crying. We stayed there for a while, then I sat back on our respective sides. "Then who's are these?" "They belong to a guy from school that I like. One day he left his locker open and I grabbed them." "Does this boy have a name?" I thought of the one guy on the team I would have totally stolen underwear from, if I ever had the balls and the opportunity. "Devin." "Well, you need to give Devin these back." "NO! That's a horrible idea! How would I even do that? I would be totally fucked at school." "Language, Kevin!" "Sorry." "I don't know. You took them, you need to find a way to give them back. They're not yours, and the idea of stealing someone else's underwear is more than just a little creepy." "He doesn't need them back." "Yes, he does. I didn't raise you to steal. Give. Them. Back. Figure it out. Now take this upstairs and put it away. Except for the underwear. I mean it: Give them back. Then come back down here. We have some things to talk about together." I took the things back upstairs. I carefully folded the boxers and re-wrapped them, packing the box up like I should have that morning. I stashed it under my bed and went back downstairs. I brought them back to Uncle Mike the next time I saw him. And so our relationship began. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________ If you like what you're reading on Nifty, please make sure to donate at https://donate.nifty.org/ to keep this FREE site going.