My Nephew Mark – Chapter 3

 

Here’s the next action-filled chapter. Thanks for all your feedback so far; I love hearing from readers about my stories. My email address is at the end. Thanks to Shini / Nick for helping with the proof-reading.

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CHAPTER 3

The holiday weekend arrived at the end of May and I prepared for my camping trip with Mark. I decided to drive up to my brother’s house on the Saturday morning, so as to avoid a lot of the holiday traffic rush. I packed my tent and sleeping bag together with a rucksack full of kit for two days out on the fells. As I drove north for a couple of hours, my mind was churning with a whole mixture of thoughts.

Should I be doing this? At one level, it was entirely natural and innocent for an uncle to show interest in his nephew and agree to take him on an introductory walking and camping trip, particularly if the boy’s parents were less keen to do it themselves – and had given their consent. I was an experienced walker and mountaineer, so I had the necessary skills; no serious harm was going to come to the boy in my care for the weekend. This was just the sort of thing that well-intentioned families did for each other.

On the other hand, maybe this trip wasn’t quite so innocent. My nephew had already quizzed me about my sexuality. He’d also made it perfectly clear to me that he was a typical teenager, interested in his own physical and sexual growing up. I suspected that his actions over the Easter weekend had been designed to tease me in some way; he’d deliberately exposed his body to me – and his arousal. Then he’s set about creating the opportunity this weekend for the two of us to spend time together. I wondered just what he had in mind – and whether I was going to have to be firm with him to resist whatever game he might be playing. Or, more truthfully, whether I could actually be firm with him if that situation arose. Oops – did I mean ‘firm’ – and if so, just what kind of ‘firm’ was I thinking of?

The truth was, since that Easter weekend, I’d had plenty of lustful thoughts about my nephew. Mark was a cute and very attractive adolescent boy. He’d featured in my erotic thoughts and wanks throughout the last few weeks. Teenage boys and young men were what turned me on. After my years living and working in Bangkok, I’d returned to Leeds and recently become friendly with a young Thai student at the university. When he wasn’t around, my thoughts and fantasies always returned to Mark. The prospect of spending two days with him – outdoors and in the close confines of a shared tent – was exciting, arousing, dangerous, risky ... and probably something I should avoid.

But it was too late now. I’d promised I’d take Mark on the camping trip. His parents had agreed and entrusted their son to me. I was on my way.

I arrived at Ben and Debbie’s house around midday. They’d invited me to share lunch with the family before Mark and I set off. As I turned into their driveway, the door opened and Mark stood there grinning at me. He was clearly excited at the prospect of the adventure ahead. I just wondered again what else might have been going through his head. I didn’t have long to wait to find out.

oOo

After a tempting lunch of pizza and salad, accompanied by a rash couple of glasses of wine, I was ready for an afternoon siesta, but Mark had other plans. He asked for my car keys so he could put his gear into the car. Not long afterwards, Ben and Debbie were wishing us a fun weekend with good weather as I reversed out of their drive and set off for our adventure.

Mark was sitting in the front passenger seat and eager to find out more of what I had planned. He wanted to know which area I’d chosen for our hike and camp. I’d thought about this for several weeks. At that time of year, the Lake District fells can be very busy, especially in the high mountains. I wanted somewhere that would give him the full mountain experience yet without being over-crowded. In the end, I’d selected the Coniston fells. Though these were further to drive to from Mark’s home in the Eden valley, I hoped that they offered a quieter environment amidst some very rugged scenery.

It took around ninety minutes to drive to Coniston, from which a narrow single-track road led upwards out of the village towards the old quarry mines on Walna Scar. The height gain meant that we would have less uphill walking to do later. As the roadway came to an end, I counted around ten cars; most of these probably belonged to day-walkers, so the chances were that we would be relatively isolated by the time evening came.

I parked up the car and we unloaded our rucksacks. I’d checked Mark’s gear before we left his home to make sure he’d not forgotten anything critical. His sack was relatively heavy so I identified one or two items that he probably wouldn’t need and we left these in the car. I also gave him some cooking equipment and food to carry in his load so that we were sharing the communal responsibilities for the weekend. The weather had been improving throughout the day and the mid-afternoon temperatures were surprisingly hot for late-May. I knew we had a two hour walk to reach my proposed campsite alongside Goat Water tarn and I encouraged Mark to walk at a slow and steady pace as he got used to the load on his back. We locked the car and set off uphill.

We chatted most of the way as Mark walked alongside me, or closely behind on the narrow sections of the path. He was clearly very excited, although I could see that the weight of his sack was probably more than he’d anticipated. He wanted to know about the mountains that increasingly surrounded us as we climbed. He asked about the ancient quarry workings. And he shared greetings with the people we met on the path who were descending from the hills.

There was no breeze in the air and the heat became increasingly oppressive as we approached the hollow cwm below the steep cliffs of Dow Crags where Goat Water lay nestled in its hollow. A popular path ran alongside the northern shore but I knew that the southern and western shores offered plenty of wonderful, grassy spots for wild camping close to the water’s edge. I explained my plan to Mark and asked him to select a suitable spot. He spent a few minutes walking backwards and forwards across the area to find the best place and eventually settled on a green grassy sward, part-sheltered by some boulders, and just a few feet from the edge of the tarn. We dumped our rucksacks with some relief and sat down to recover our breath.

Almost without thinking about it, I suggested what I’d often done before when out with friends in the hills: “Do you fancy a swim to cool off a bit, before we put up the tent?”

“But I didn’t bring my swim costume,” replied Mark quickly, a look of concern on his face.

“Oh, you don’t need a costume,” I suggested, “Out here in the wilderness lots of people go skinny-dipping.”

“Oh. Um. I’m not sure I could do that. There might be people about.”

“Don’t worry – they’ve probably done it themselves. Nothing they’ve not seen before.”

“Well ... I might ... if you do, Uncle Steve.”

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea; but I’d made the suggestion and now I had to go through with it. There are not so many ways to keep clean and fresh amidst the hills after a sweaty walk. I stepped across to my rucksack and took out a towel before walking to the water’s edge. I removed my books and socks and tested the temperature of the water: despite the heat of the day, the tarn still retained its spring coldness. I stood to remove my shirt and then my trousers and underwear. I kept my back to Mark as I faced the water. I stepped forward across the rocks and boulders on the shoreline. The water felt freezing. I walked out and the water rose to cover my knees and then my crotch. I wasn’t going to stay in long! I splashed water onto my chest and face, rubbing under my arms and around my neck. I turned to escape back to the dry land. I wasn’t worried about getting embarrassed in front of Mark. After that immersion, I knew my tackle would shrink and stay flaccid.

I picked up the towel without looking up at Mark and starting drying myself. “Well – that’s me,” I exclaimed, “Your turn if you want to – but make it quick. It’s too cold to stay in long.”

Maybe he’d felt challenged by what I’d done. He gave me a half-laugh and opened his sack to take out his towel. He picked another bit of the shore a few metres away from me. “Ok, if you can do it, so can I,” he said defiantly, “But I’m too embarrassed to get naked like you; someone might see me from the path over there.” I tried not to watch and simply focused on drying myself as Mark started to undress. First the books and socks came off. Then the tee-shirt was pulled over his head to reveal the smooth pink chest that I’d fantasised about for so many nights with his sharp brown aureoles. He turned away from me to drop his hiking trousers and pull them off his leg. I turned to see his compact bubble butt held within a pair of white briefs. Without looking back at me, he started to walk into the water. I stared at his perfect backside. This boy was so desirable. I needed to hold my towel in front of my waist to disguise my interest. Despite the effect of the cold water, heat was surging into my cock as it began to thicken and lengthen against my thigh. I could hear Mark’s sharp intakes of breath as the coldness of the water affected him. He was standing with water up to his thighs. He gingerly lowered himself into the water until it reached his waist, then rapidly stood up. His wet briefs were now almost translucent. I stared out at the sight of his crevice between those two mounds of flesh. My shaft rose quickly to full attention. Mark started to turn and return to the shore and it took all my self-control not to look longer at the darker bulge of his genitals held within his briefs. I held my towel and turned away from him, bending forward to quickly retrieve a pair of sweatpants from my rucksack. My ass must have been on full view to the boy but I needed to get covered up quickly. I pulled the sweatpants up and then found a dry jersey to pull over my head. With some modesty restored, I picked up Mark’s towel and stood by the shore to pass it to him.

“Shit, that’s really cold,” he muttered almost shivering, taking the towel from me and beginning to dry himself. He stood in front of me and I could have hugged him to help him warm up. But my hands would have roved across his back (and lower) and he would surely have felt the size of my tumescence against his slim body. I looked down to see my enlarged cock pushing out against the fabric of my sweatpants. Had he noticed? How could I control myself? In my mind, I just wanted to push them down and give myself over to a fast and furious wank in front of this near-naked boy.

“Well done for your first wash in a mountain tarn, Mark,” was all I could say. “Come on, you need to get dried quickly and get into some warm clothes again. Then we’ll put up the tent and I’ll make us a hot drink and we can think about eating some dinner before long.”

oOo

A few hours later, with camp established, food cooked and eaten, and hot drinks to enjoy, we were sitting outside the tent as the evening light started to fade from the sky. The last of the day-walkers had long since left the mountains and we almost had the high valley to ourselves. Just as the sun was setting, we saw a couple of walkers descending the slopes at the head of the valley. They spent some time searching around the shores of the tarn some distance away from us until they eventually chose a spot to set up camp. By that time it was almost too dark to make out much about them. Anyway, they were sufficiently far away that we wouldn’t be disturbed by them in our tent.

Mark had been helping with tasks around our camp: pitching the tent, laying out the sleeping mats and bags, fetching water for the cooking, rinsing the pots and plates afterwards. He’d wanted to make a fire but there was no timber at that altitude so we had to make do with the fuel stove and our torches. As the light faded, the temperature dropped. “Well, I think it’s time to get into those sleeping bags,” I suggested.

“But it’s still early. I never go to bed at this time,” Mark protested.

“Early to bed, early to rise – that’s the rule when you’re on an adventure camp. You’ll start feeling cold soon unless you get inside the bag. And tomorrow we have a long day’s walk ahead of us.”

I let Mark get himself ready inside the tent whilst I went to brush my teeth and pee. I waited until he was fully settled before crawling into the tent and taking up position on top of my sleeping bag. It was a decent 2-3 man lightweight mountain tent so there was plenty of room inside. Our mats were lined up alongside each other with our kit stowed at the head end. There was just enough light coming through the tent walls for me to see what I was doing. I didn’t expect to be too cold in my four-season sleeping bag so I stripped off most of my clothes and climbed into the bag, before zipping it up. Normally I slept naked, but in Mark’s close presence this didn’t seem appropriate. Besides, I might want to get out in the night to relieve my bladder.

I didn’t think Mark would have fallen asleep yet. “So how was today, Mark?” I asked, “Has it been good so far?”

“Yeah, it’s been really great. Thanks for bringing me Uncle Steve. I’m really enjoying this wild camping. I just hope nothing comes to get us in the night. But that water was really cold. I don’t think I could get used to that – or do what you did.”

I laughed. “Yes, it was pretty cold. It’s still early in the season and the water’s not had much chance to warm up yet. But you get used to that sort of thing in the mountains.” We chatted on for several minutes. Mark was moving around in his bag trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Although I’d brought a couple of sleeping mats, the ground beneath was still hard. Eventually he seemed to settle and our conversation dwindled. I hoped he might sleep and I would be left to my dreams and fantasies.

Several minutes passed. “Uncle Steve? Are you still awake?” His voice was soft and quiet in the tent.

“Yes – what is it Mark?”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep just yet.”

“That’s OK – you can just close your eyes and rest. Sleep will come when you’re ready.”

There was a pause. “That’s not quite what I meant.” I waited for him to continue. “Normally I can’t sleep at night until after I’ve played with myself and made myself cum.”

Shit. What was I supposed to say to that? The boy was horny – like most lads his age – and if he did anything about it, sure as hell he would make me horny and hard – and then what could I do?

“Oh,” was all I could manage to say. And then: “Well I guess that’s pretty normal for a young guy of your age, Mark. I was pretty much the same when I was a teenager.”

“Really? That’s good if it’s normal. Since you showed me how to lubricate myself, it’s been a lot easier. Now I can rub myself really easily.” He stopped for a few moments. It was a good job it was almost dark as my cock was rapidly rising to full attention again inside my sleeping bag. “I get hard like this most nights,” he continued. “You don’t mind if I make myself cum before I sleep?”

“If it helps you sleep Mark, you go right ahead,” I said softly, my fist holding my own cock close to my body to try and hide it.”

I heard the zip on his sleeping bag being undone. In the dim light I was aware of his hips rising from off the mat; he must have been pushed down his pants or his trackies, whatever he was sleeping in. I could dimly make out his arm as it moved to hold himself. Then the unmistakeable sound and motion of a cock being wanked seemed to fill the tent. “Oh, I need this,” he muttered. ‘And so too do I,’ I thought as my hand itched to make the same motions to myself. The smell of his sex started to fill the air within the tent. I could l almost taste his pre-cum juices in the atmosphere. He moaned and groaned for a time. I could make out the blur of his hand as my eyes became more accustomed to the darkness. “Oh, yes,” he exclaimed a couple of times. I tried to lie still as his climax approached. His body started to jerk as the orgasm began to convulse his young body. My own balls were beginning to ache now and there was nothing I could do about it. I wanted to reach out and touch this boy’s skin, to grasp him and help to take him over the edge ... but I kept myself contained within the zipped confines of my sleeping bag. “Arghh, yes!” I heard him exclaim, as his hips rose from the mat for one final convulsion and he must have fired his load out and onto his belly or into his hand. His motions slowed with a few more strokes and his body began to subside. Eventually he came to rest on top of his sleeping bag.

“Oh, I needed that,” he said finally and quietly. I smiled in the dark but didn’t comment. “Oh shit – now I don’t have anything to clean up this mess with. Normally I keep a little towel at home by my bed. I guess I’ll have to use my shirt or something.” I daren’t tell him that I’d found that same towel and used it myself.

“Wait a moment,” I said, “I’ll get you the roll of toilet paper.” I sat up and rummaged amongst the kit until I found the roll of tissues. It was too dark to make out much of Mark’s body, though I was aware of him lying flat on his back beside me, his sleeping bag still lying open and his body exposed. I tore off several sheets and passed them to him. “Here – use these.”

“Oh, thanks,” and he proceeded to wipe his hands, his belly and his cock. I passed him some more sheets of paper until he seemed done. Then he crawled to the tent entrance and pushed the cum-covered paper outside the zipped door. “I’ll clean those up in the morning,” and he returned to his sleeping bag and zipped himself in again.

We both lay still in the tent. I daren’t move in case I revealed myself. Listening to Mark wanking himself had kept me very excited. I was still holding myself. The thought of what the boy was doing had made me incredibly horny. I really wanted to cum, but there was no chance of doing that in such close proximity to him. I wondered if I would be able to do it once he’d gone off to sleep. I waited and listened. Gradually, Mark calmed down and moved around less. Eventually, his breathing seemed to have become slow and even; I guessed he’d drifted off to sleep.

I needed another pee and slowly unzipped my sleeping bag to crawl out of the tent. In the darkness, I doubted he would have seen my hardness hidden in my underwear. Once outside, I contemplated having a hasty jerk but the night air was too cool on my skin to be comfortable. I climbed back into the tent, slid into my sleeping bag and closed my eyes.

Two or three minutes passed in silence. “Uncle Steve – are you still awake?” a quiet voice asked in the darkness.

“Yes. What do you want Mark?”

“You know you said before that I could ask you anything?”

“Yes ...” I wondered what was coming. “What is it?”

“Well, I was thinking ... will I always want to do that? Or is it something I’ll grow out of soon?”

“You mean, playing with yourself and making yourself cum? I reckon for most guys its something you never grow out of. Maybe when you have a wife or a partner you’ll be more interested in sex with them. But I think most guys still feel the need to wank on their own sometimes.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I mean, it’s so much fun. I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop. It just makes me feel so good.”

“That’s fine, Mark. It’s not anything you should feel bad about. Don’t stop if it makes you feel good. It won’t do you any harm – no matter what other people might say.”

“Thanks, Uncle Steve. I don’t plan to stop.” He was silent for a time, then: “Can I ask you another question then?”

“Sure, what is it?” This time I was more apprehensive still.

“Do you still do it? You said you’d done it when you were my age, and you also said you’d had boyfriends before. I was just wondering if you still need to touch and wank yourself like that sometimes?”

I took a deep breath. This was definitely getting onto tricky ground. “That’s a very personal question, Mark.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Sorry. Forget I asked.”

“You haven’t upset me. It’s just not the sort of thing that one guy tends to ask another. But you’re right, I did promise that you could ask me stuff before.” I was silent for a time, and Mark didn’t say anything to break the silence. He was clearly waiting to see whether I would answer his question. “So, yes, I’m like most guys. There are times when I get excited and need to touch myself and make myself cum.” My hand was clutching my hardening cock again. “It’s quite natural.”

I sensed him sitting up a bit on the mat beside me, his face turned towards me. “Do you sometimes need to do it before sleeping – like I just did?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“I don’t mind if you want to do it tonight, Uncle Steve.” He paused. I was both shocked and excited at what he was suggesting. “I mean, you said it was natural. And it would kind of make us equals. It’s very dark anyway, so we can’t see each other. If you want to, that’s ok.”

Oh shit! The heat was raging through my groin. This cute adolescent boy was making me so horny. I’d never get to sleep if I didn’t cum soon. The thought of him being so close in the tent whilst I stroked myself – of him actually encouraging me to do it – was making me incredibly hot.

I began to slowly unzip my sleeping bag. “You know – when a guy gets horny and starts to cum, he releases a sexual scent or odour. You can smell it in the air. And it has an effect on other people nearby – it can start to make them excited to. So when you were making yourself cum just now, it began to affect me too. That’s the way it works, Mark,” I said to him as some kind of adult explanation.

“That’s cool,” he replied, “It’s such a great feeling isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“And I’m kind of glad that you want to do it too. Then it’s something that we share on this adventure trip.”

I had to rely on the dark inside the tent to ‘hide’ what I was doing. With the sleeping bag now unzipped, I lay on my back and pushed my briefs down to free my rock-solid boner. I gripped it with my right hand and started to stroke myself slowly, letting my left hand cup my balls. I could feel the air being sucked in and out of my mouth.

“Are you doing it now Uncle Steve?”

“Uh-huh,” was all I could reply.

“Good – go for it.”

The speed of my hand picked up. I couldn’t believe I was wanking in the dark just a couple of feet away from Mark beside me. My whole cockhead was wet with pre-cum that leaked onto my fist. I had to spread my legs more to hold my balls. Even my ass was feeling hot and in need of major stimulus. For a brief few moments, I fantasised about Mark’s boy-cock pressing against my ass, and my anal muscles spasmed in response.

“Oh God, that does feel good,” I muttered.

“And I’m beginning to get that sex smell you talked about. It’s making me go stiff again.”

My head was in over-drive. The idea that he was getting excited again by my wanking. Even though neither of us could see anything, I could feel the blood trying to enlarge my shaft even more. I knew I was going to shoot a big load very soon. “Oh yeah, I’m almost there.” Did I really say that out aloud.

I could hear Mark moving on his mat as my climax began to approach. I was holding my cock upright in my fist. My buttock muscles were beginning to clench and my hips lift off the mat.

Flash!

The tent was momentarily filled with white light. “What the ...?” I shouted. I’d reached the point of no return. There was a giggle from Mark alongside me. My cock began to shoot jism up into the air. I felt the first blast land back on my belly.

Then, Flash, again.

I suddenly realised it must be the camera flash on Mark’s mobile phone. He was actually taking pictures of me! I ejaculated again and again, my belly getting covered in sticky juices.

Mark laughed aloud. As my final cum seeped out over my hand, Mark must have switched to viewing the photos on his phone. The light from the image was dimly illuminating the inside of the tent. I could see my shaft resting on my abdomen with streaks of cum looking milky and wet on my skin.

Mark was sitting up on his mat, looking at his screen. “Wow, you really are big,” was all he could say. He looked up at my body. “That was amazing. I’ve only ever seen a man cuming in porn photos and videos. But seeing you do that for real is so much more exciting.” I was pretty speechless – what could I say? This boy had just taken pictures of me in my most exposed and aroused state. “Hope you don’t mind, Uncle Steve. But you’ve seen me like that, and I wanted to see you too. It’s just so exciting to see a real man do that.”  And then, “Here – do you want the tissue paper to clean up?” He passed me the roll of toilet tissues, tearing off a few sheets as he did so. I took the paper from him, and as I did so he dropped his fingers to scoop up some of my pooled cum and took it to his mouth. “Mmm, that’s different to mine – it’s stronger and stickier.”

After I finished wiping myself I said to him: “Mark, do you know what you’re doing here?”

“Yeah, I think so. I’m having a great adventure. I’m just really enjoying doing stuff with you – walking in the mountains, camping, swimming, and finding out more about myself – and about you. I’m growing up. I couldn’t do this with mum and dad, but it just feels really easy with you. I want to know what it’s like to grow up as a man. And sex and stuff is a big part of that isn’t it?” He paused to think some more and I waited for him to continue. “I’m discovering that I like looking at other boys ... and at men. Maybe that means that part of me is gay too, like you Uncle Steve. And I really like that you tell me things and show me things. You treat me like a young man. Anyway, watching you doing the same as me was really exciting. Look, there must be something in the atmosphere – it’s even making me hard again.” And saying that he pushed down his pants to reveal his erection rising again. It was all I could do to resist leaning over to touch him.

“Mark, you just need to be very careful. You’re still quite young. Most people wouldn’t understand what you’re suggesting. I’m happy to talk with you but you just need to be really careful. This is only the sort of stuff you can talk about in private.”

“I know. I will be careful. I promise. And I really appreciate how you’re helping me to grow up.”

oOo

Maybe it was all the exercise, or maybe it was the wanking, but I slept surprisingly well in the tent that night. I only woke up when I heard the tent door being unzipped and I opened my eyes to see Mark’s backside sheathed in his trackies as he crawled outside. The events of the previous evening came back to me almost as a dream. I looked around and saw the dried bundles of stained tissue paper: they were certainly real. So we really had wanked off in front of each other.

Mark must have gone outside to relieve himself. A couple of minutes later I heard him scrambling at the tent flaps again. “Uncle Steve, are you awake? Quick, you should take a look at this.”

“What is it Mark?” I enquired.

“Quick, come outside and see,” he replied. His hand reached inside the tent to find his phone. He sat just inside the flysheet, half-concealed from outside view. I poked my head outside the tent door to look at whatever he wanted to show me. At first I couldn’t see anything unusual. Mark was adjusting his phone to the camera setting and raising it to his face. “Look, over there, by the water near the other tent.”

I looked across to where the other tent had been pitched. Standing at the water’s edge was a guy, probably aged 25-30, just about to walk into the tarn probably to wake himself up and rinse himself clean. He was tall, slender, quite hairy ... and entirely naked. But what was most noticeable about him – and what had clearly attracted Mark’s attention – was his penis. It was remarkably long with a large flared and uncovered helmet at the end of the shaft. It was so long that it bounced from one thigh to the other as he walked into the water. The length of it made me wonder whether he had recently ejaculated and the flesh was still engorged with blood.

“He’s just so big,” was all that Mark could say. “He’s like a porn star or something.” Mark was busy using his phone to zoom in and take some pictures. As I watched, a second figure emerged from the other tent. This time it was a woman, relatively small and slim with distinctive hips. She too was nude, the pubic hair of her crotch quite visible. She said something to the man and walked to the water to join him. He stepped towards her as she approached. I thought the coldness of the water would have an effect on the man but it didn’t seem to. As they both stood together, the water reaching to the mid-thigh of the man, he reached out to embrace the much smaller female figure and then bent down to kiss her. They stood like that for several moments. As the man pulled back, I thought I detected a further lengthening and rising in his cock. He was certainly incredibly well endowed.

“Come on Mark – get back inside the tent. Give them some privacy.” He crawled back in somewhat reluctantly.

“I’ve never seen a guy as big as that before. He’s given me my morning hard-on.” And again, he pulled his trackies away from his body to show me. I was relieved that most of my own body was still concealed by my own sleeping bag.

“So just what have you been photographing Mark?” I asked him directly. “Let me see your phone.” And I stretched out my arm to take it from him. Somewhat hesitatingly, he handed over his phone and I clicked on the photo album icon. In the first image he’d zoomed in on the body of the guy from the next tent. I swiped leftwards to see a series of three of four photos all focused on the same naked man standing in the water. After that were the two shots he’d taken of me wanking in the dark of the tent, the white flash light giving the scene a very sharp accent; my ramrod erection was in clear view in both shots, and the second one had captured some cum flying upwards from my cockhead. I kept flicking back. There were some shots of our camp and our approach walk up the hill; he’d taken several pictures of my backside as I’d gone into the tarn to bathe the previous evening.

I looked across at him. He was looking sheepish. “I’m not going to show them to anyone. Honest. I just want some souvenirs of our time together this weekend. I want to be able to remember everything that happened.”

“You can’t let anyone else see these, Mark. It wouldn’t be good for you.” As I spoke, I switched the phone back to camera mode. As I held the phone in my hands, I altered the angle of the lens. Then I fired off three quick shots.

“What are you doing?” he asked quickly.

I selected the photo album again and turned the phone around so he could see the images. I’d taken three pictures at short range of his groin. His hard erection and his boy balls were unmistakably outlined in each image. “There, maybe that’s my payback on you,” I joked. He laughed. “Yeah – I do look good like that, don’t I?” I refrained from telling him just how good I found his lean and youthful body, and just how excited he made me feel. “Come on then, let’s get some breakfast sorted and then we can organise our camp and get out for a good walk on these mountains.”

I made us hot drinks to accompany some filling porridge; we had some bread and cheese, with biscuits and fruit that I organised for lunches. I put the sleeping bags out to air over the ridge of the tent and left the flaps open to blow the night-time odours away. The couple in the other tent had packed up and left quickly as we ate, giving us a friendly wave as they walked around the tarn. I asked Mark whether he wanted to strike camp and carry everything all day, or whether he wanted to leave the tent pitched where it was, have a day’s walk and come back to the same spot for the second night. He opted for the latter. Maybe he’d found it hard carrying everything for the first time.

An hour or so later we were ready to leave. We carried just day sacks with spare clothes, waterproofs and lunches. I zipped up the tent to make it secure; it was very unlikely that anyone would disturb it in the mountains. We set off climbing to the low pass between Dow Crag and Coniston Old Man. This mountain is particularly popular with walkers and commands fine views. Our start on the hills meant that we reached the summit before the hordes of day-walkers who were likely to be following. From there, it was a beautiful long ridge walk over several minor tops to the far end of the massif. Mark was telling me about his life in school, his footballing exploits, and about some of his friends. I listened carefully to the stories of his everyday life, asking a few questions; it was all typical teenage boy stuff. I felt quite privileged to be hearing it.

We stopped for a rest and some snack food by a large cairn. There was no-one else in sight. “Uncle Steve,” he began – and I knew from the tone that the conversation was going somewhere more risqué. “You know that guy who was camping in the other tent? He looked really big, down there. Is that normal? I can’t image how big he must get when he gets hard.” I agreed that he had looked quite big, and probably quite a bit longer than the average man in my experience. Mark continued: “But the woman he was with ... I mean, I don’t really know that much about women ... but she was so small by comparison. And they were obviously very friendly with each other, you know, sharing a tent and washing together and giving each other a hug. Do you think there were doing stuff together, like sex and that?” I looked at him and told him that it was quite likely there were in some kind of relationship together, and that maybe they did enjoy making love together. “But I just don’t see how that could work, Uncle Steve. I mean, him being so big and her being so small. How could she possibly take all of him into her ... pussy?” I tried to explain to Mark something of vaginal biology, stressing that the body was able to accommodate all kinds of different sizes and that part of the fun of making love was discovering ways of making it work between the two people involved. I wasn’t sure he was entirely convinced. The conversation had clearly moved back onto sex – again!

“I think my mum and dad are quite open about sex,” he confided. “I know they were boyfriend and girlfriend from when my mum was quite young. They both told me that. And I think mum was only 16 when she had me ... so they must have been doing it before that.” He looked at me for some kind of confirmation. “They still do it, you know. I’ve heard them having sex at night when I’ve gone down to the main bathroom and they think we’re all asleep. And last year, when we were on holiday together in this seaside chalet, the walls were so thin I could hear them doing it in the next room early one morning.”

“People don’t stop having sex just because they get married,” I said. “As you keep growing you’ll find that having sex – making love – is something that you’ll keep wanting to do, and keep looking for new ways of enjoying it.”

“Yeah, I hope so. Dad doesn’t seem embarrassed about it at all. I’ve walked into the bathroom when he’s been taking a shower. And sometimes he walks between the bathroom and the bedroom without any clothes. His body looks quite like yours – except you’re much younger, and he has a lot more hair than you on his body. Mum’s much more careful though. She always has a dressing gown.” He stopped for a few moments as he thought some more. “I did see them making love a few months ago. I’d come home from school early because of some teacher shortage. For some reason dad was at home – maybe he’d come home for lunch of something. They didn’t hear me enter the house. As I went up the stairs to my bedroom I could hear the noise from their bedroom. The door was open. Mum was lying on the bed. Dad was on top of her, his trousers still around his legs. I could actually see his hard-on as he pushed himself up and down and went in and out of her. They were both making more noise than usual. Dad seemed to have his eyes closed. I daren’t stay when I realised what was happening. I crept back down the stairs and went outside. I came back half-an-hour later making plenty of noise. By then dad was downstairs and mum was in the bathroom. They acted just like normal, and asked me what I was doing home so early.”

“Well, sex is a very personal thing,” I told him. “You did right not to disturb them or let them know what you’d seen or heard. Do you want your mum and dad to watch what you’re doing with yourself in private? For most people, making love is something very private. After all, they’re making themselves very exposed and vulnerable. They can only do that with someone they really trust. It’s just between the two of them.”

“Yeah, I know. Like me and you last night. I couldn’t do that if I didn’t trust you, Uncle Steve. I didn’t think you would laugh at me, or tell me to stop. I felt like you would understand, because of your own experiences with other guys. It’s almost like you’re a really good friend – someone I can talk with about anything – a ‘best friend’.”

I tried to thank him for showing me so much trust, and I also tried to warn him about being very careful; that there were very few people who would accept this type of friendship with a teenage boy of his age.

We resumed our walk, meeting various other people along the way. We reached Great Carrs summit at the other end of the ridge before turning back. Later, we cut off down the flank of the ridge to cross the col and then walked up onto the summit of Dow Crags. The cliffs dropped away beneath our feet and we could look 1,500 feet down at Goat Water and see our own tent on its shore. We rested on the summit for a time enjoying the warm sunshine, the feeling of physical exhilaration after a day in the mountains, and the amazing view in all directions at the panorama of hills around us. After half-an-hour it was time to descend to camp. We made our way further along the summit ridge and then descended steeply across easier grass slopes to arrive back at the tarn. There were still other people walking past on the other side of the water as they descended the hill towards their cars. We were going to enjoy another night of camping surrounded by these high hills.

I pulled out the cooking stove to boil some water and make a brew. It’s one of my greatest pleasures at the end of a good walk – to sit outside in the open air, enjoy the views and drink some tea. It only took me a couple of minutes but by the time I was ready to sit on a boulder and enjoy my drink the view had definitely changed – and improved even further!

Mark had taken himself down to the water’s edge. He’d stripped off and was now squatting down with his feet in the water to rinse himself. And this time, he’d stripped off completely. I looked out at his back and my eyes drifted lower to his exposed buttocks and the crevice between them. As he squatted down, his crease was forced further open, exposing more of his vulnerability. The boy was scooping up handfuls of water and rubbing himself – his head and face, his chest, arms and armpits, his legs and feet. He stood up again to wash his genitals and his bum. A teenager standing there in all his wonderful prime. As he turned to step out of the water, I bent into the tent to pull out his towel and passed it to him. As I stood before him, I could take in the full sight of his lean body.

“So, what changed your mind today?” I asked humorously, “You didn’t want to do that yesterday.”

He grinned. “Well, if you can do it, so can I. Anyway, those people on the other side of the tarn probably can’t see that much. And I don’t mind you seeing – you’ve seen it all before anyway.” He stood there, towelling himself dry.

“So should I be photographing you this time?”

“Yeah, you can if you want – but you have to keep it private, remember.” This time it was my turn to laugh as he quoted my own words of warning back to me.

“Well, I’m just glad that you feel free enough to do it. For me, it’s one of the joys of being in the mountains.”

“Yeah, it does feel kind-of good. It feels very free to be naked like this – and outdoors. Maybe I’ll do it again,” and he laughed.

As he pulled on some tracksuit bottoms and a shirt, I set about preparing food for dinner. The atmosphere between us felt very easy. We’d both enjoyed the day, we were comfortable together, we were relaxing, and I sensed that the whole trip was adding to Mark’s dawning maturity.

As the evening drew on, the sunshine was replaced, first by light clouds and then by some more threatening clouds. Fortunately, we’d finished eating and had rinsed off the plates and utensils in the water. The evening air was still but the temperature was dropping. The last walkers seemed to have descended from the hills and we were alone in our mountain camp. This seemed to be the moment to turn in.

There was still plenty of light filtering through the tent walls as we lay back on our sleeping mats. I remembered back to the night before and wondered just what would happen this evening. Mark was chatting away, recounting the highlights of our walk and telling me something of his friends and social life. He asked me more about my life in Thailand and seemed keen to know more about the boyfriends that I’d had. He wasn’t prying – just inquisitive and eager to hear of my experiences of adult male life. Eventually his conversation slowed and I wondered if he was about to climb into his sleeping bag. Maybe he was tired after all our exertions.

No way!

He lay out on his sleeping bag. “Uncle Steve, I know it’s cold outside but it’s still early. I’ll never get to sleep yet. I don’t even feel tired enough to sleep.” He stopped for a moment and looked across at me. “Do you think I could, you know, do what I normally do before going to bed ... like last night ... make myself cum again?”

I looked back at him. This was getting serious. A big part of me wanted nothing more than to watch him enjoying his youthful body and wanking again. The adult part of me felt horrified at the idea that somehow I was encouraging him or taking advantage of him. I also knew instinctively that if he did expose himself again, I would get incredibly horny just watching him.

“Mark – I don’t mind if that’s what you want to do – but you should think carefully about whether that’s the right and proper thing to do when you’re not alone.”

“Oh, Uncle Steve – you’re sounding just like my mum and dad when you talk to me like that,” he objected. “And you’re not my mum and dad – that’s why I like being with you so much. They’re always saying ‘Mark, do this’ and ‘Mark, you should think about that’. Please don’t do that with me. I really felt we had a different kind of friendship.”

I didn’t know what to say. It was like the boy was making some kind of appeal to me.

He went on: “Mum and dad are always calling me ‘Mark’, like in serious way. And all my friends call me ‘Markie’. I’d love it if you called me that too. Then it would be like we were good buddies and could say anything to each other.” He looked at me with big open eyes.

This was the crux of it. Was I his friend or his uncle and close relative? “OK ... Markie ... I can be your buddy – but only when we’re together like this. When we’re at your home or with you family, it has to be ‘Mark’. Understood?”

“Great, Yes. Thanks, Uncle Steve.”

“So another thing then ... Markie. If we’re buddies, you have to stop treating me and calling me as your uncle all the time. You better just call me ‘Steve’ – except when we’re with your family of course.”

“Wow, yes, that would be great ... Steve. I never thought of that, but now you say it, it makes loads of sense.” He turned away from me for a minute, perhaps to think of all the implications. I noticed his hand creep down to hold himself in his trackies. He turned back with a smile. “So is it OK then Steve if I do give myself a wank to help me sleep?”

“Yes, Markie – you can if you need to. Though as a ‘buddy’ you don’t actually need to ask permission.”

He grinned, beginning to push down his trackies. “And I don’t mind if you do too, Steve – you could keep me company.”

His tracksuit was now below his knees and his briefs quickly followed. He was already hard. His maturing shaft was pointing directly up his body. The light brown pubic hair formed a small triangle above the base of his cock but his balls and his thighs were still smooth. His glans was just visible beneath the fold of his foreskin. As I watched, he lifted his shoulders and pulled his tee-shirt up and over his head to reveal his smooth chest; his two brown button nipples were standing proud and erect on his skin. He was pretty much perfect in every way. (If he turned over onto his stomach, I knew I’d have real difficulty in restraining myself from parting his bum cheeks and then exploring his crack; and that would definitely lead me to wanting to fuck him right there on his sleeping mat.)

“This is how I like it, Steve,” he said, hopefully unaware of my lustful thoughts. He’d dug a tube of lubricating oil out of his rucksack and was smearing it over his hand and the head of his cock. He lay out flat on his back resting on his mat, using his rucksack as a pillow from which he could look down his body. “This is my favourite position.” With his cock fully lubricated, he’d pulled his foreskin back down exposing a beautiful purple head to his shaft. With this arousal, he wasn’t too far off an adult size. “Oh, yeah, that feels so good.” His eyes were closed as he gave himself over to self-pleasure. I’ve watched lots of boys get hard and then jerk themselves, both on video and for real, but being alongside Mark like this it just felt completely different again. I knew I was fully aroused myself but I didn’t do anything about it. I just couldn’t take my eyes off him.

“Steve – ,” his eyes were still closed and he spoke in a low husky voice, “ – if this was one of your boyfriends lying here – back in Bangkok or somewhere – doing this, what would you want to be doing?”

I was hardly aware of myself answering as I became so caught up in the scene. “Mmm, probably, I’d want to touch him.”

“Touch him? – where?”

“On his legs or his chest most likely.”

There was another short silence. “Would you touch me then, please, Steve – so that I know what it’s like?”

I couldn’t stop myself. My arm moved across. His eyes remained closed, his hand stroking up and down. My finger tips opened out and I touched him very lightly on his inner thigh, stroking gently and then moving across to repeat the movement on the other thigh. “Oh shit, that feels just amazing,” he exclaimed, “Don’t stop.” His knees spread further apart to give me more room. I continued to gently finger-brush his smooth thighs. “Oh, yes.” I watched his chest move up and down with his urgent breathing. His other hand grabbed my fingers. He lifted them up and put them on his balls. “Touch me here. Please. Just here.” I found myself stroking his smooth ball-sack with my fingers. “Oh fuck, that feels so hot.” My hand moved to cup his balls; my finger slipped between his thighs to press on his root spot. “Oh, yeahhh,” he almost squealed. He opened his eyes to look at me directly. “I didn’t realise how different it would feel when someone else did it to me.” I released his balls and he looked momentarily disappointed. I quickly put my fingers back on his chest instead, taking one of his hard little nipples and squeezing it between my forefinger and thumb. “Arghhh, what the .... shit ... that’s so sensitive Steve.” I let my fingers play around his nipples and then gently tweaked them again. His hips lifted up off the mattress as he forced himself into his hand. I wondered how long it would take for him to shoot. He was jerking himself ever-faster and the head of his cock was glistening with pre-cum. “Steve – does me doing this make you hard too?”

“Yes,” I replied honestly and almost under my breath, “Of course it does.”

He stopped wanking himself and his hand moved swiftly across. He was feeling my sweatpants and quickly located my very rigid shaft; the tip was making the front of my sweats wet through the fabric. His hand quickly returned to stroking himself. “Oh yeah, that’s so good.” I wasn’t sure if he was referring to his own state of arousal, or to mine. His hand broke off again and moved back to my groin. He grabbed my shaft and jerked me a few times inside my sweatpants. Then he reached up for the waist band and attempted to push them down. “Show me, please Steve. I want to see it again. You can cum too. Just like we’re buddies together.” He was trying to reach inside my sweatpants. I lifted my hips slightly and he pushed the elastic down beneath my balls. My heavy cock sprang forward towards him.

His hand went back to stroking himself vigorously again. “Oh shit, this is making me so hot. More than ever before. I’m going to cum very soon Steve. Touch me again, please – anywhere – everywhere ...”

I moved to kneel up beside him. There was only just sufficient headroom in the tent. My sweatpants were around my folded knees and my thick, rigid shaft was sticking out in front of me. With one hand I played with his tight, hairless ball-sack; with the other I tweaked and pinched his brown nipples. He squirmed and writhed on the mat, opening his legs, wanking himself hard, and lifting his bum and hips off the ground as his climax approached. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” he urged. He opened his eyes to look up at me briefly. Then his hand moved quickly across to grasp my flesh and jerked it two or three times before returning to his own shaft. “Oh God, I don’t want this to stop,” he exclaimed. I continued to play with his balls and his chest, looking down at the boy in the heat of his intense pleasure. A string of pre-cum had leaked from my cock and was stretched like a spider’s web between my cockhead, my thigh, and the mat. “I feel so hot,” he murmured. Then, “I can feel it coming ... Fuck ... Oh my God ....“ His fist was pumping ferociously to bring himself to ejaculation. I couldn’t take my eyes off his body and what he was doing to himself. “Ugh, ugh, .... arghhh!”  A long string of pearly white cum shot out of the end of his cock. It flew in an arc up into the air and fell back to land on his shoulder. More bursts followed in rapid succession, each splattering across his chest and abdomen. He continued to squeeze and wank and two more dollops of cum were ejaculated and spread across his belly and his hand. Gradually, very gradually, his hand slowed and his body subsided back onto the mat. A succession of ‘after-shocks’ shook his body causing him to convulse and more drops of cum were squeezed out of the end of his cock. His laboured breath began to ease and slow. At last, he released his hand from his cock and the engorged boyhood lay across his belly amidst of pool of sticky fluid.

“Oh my God, Steve ... that was amazing ... I’ve never ever experienced anything like that. It was like it was never going to end. I can still feel it all through my body – my legs, my balls, my bum, my belly. Look how much cum came out: it must be some kind of record.” His fingers began to trail up his body through the milky juice. He brought his fingers to his mouth to taste himself before scooping up some more and offering it up to me.

“Mmmm,” I responded, looking down at him and smiling, “You’re a very tasty boy. That was a proper orgasm – not just shooting out your cum but energising your whole body. It’s always a great sensation. I guess that was your first full-on whole-body orgasm.”

“I loved it – even though I have made a complete mess all over myself. And look, my cock’s still half-hard.”

I kept looking down at him – the beauty of his young body, the sight of his adolescent excitement, the smoothness of his skin. I turned slightly to look around for the roll of toilet tissue to help him clean up.

“Aren’t you going to cum too, Steve?” he asked quietly as I found the roll. His arm reached out, touching first on the skin of my thigh and then stretching between my thighs to touch my full balls as they hung beneath my erect shaft. A string of pre-cum dripped from the tip and landed on his hand. “Can I watch you do it? I can see how excited you are.” And he gently squeezed my ball-sack in the palm of his hand. “Come on, you’ll never get to sleep with that monster in that state. I know you want to cum really.” His fingers grasped the base of my cock before moving back to my balls. “Watching me made you hard, didn’t it? And I really want to watch you do the same ....  please, Steve. I can help you to cum.” Again, he touched my balls playfully.

I turned back to look at him. I was still kneeling beside his prone body, my sweatpants pushed down and my rampant cock pointing up and out over his body. He was right: there was no way I could go to sleep in this state. My hand moved to grasp my cock. “Yes,” he urged, “Go on, do it.” I lifted my hand and dropped it onto his abdomen. I smeared my fingers through the pools of cum on his belly and chest. He smiled at the intimate touch and the awareness of what I was doing. I brought my hand back and wiped his boy-juices over the head of my cock and down my shaft. Then I grasped my thickness firmly and began to stroke. The sticky lubrication made it easy to slide the skin up and down. I played with the ridge of my foreskin, savouring the feel of my hand as it slid across the highly sensitive, purple glans, mixing my pre-cum juices with Mark’s semen. His hand was cupping my balls again, trying to hold them in his hand as I moved my fist to grasp my shaft. I felt my body lift up and down as I raised my torso upwards and then sank my butt down again onto my heels. I was urging myself onwards, desperate for some release. I could feel his fingers squeezing me and touching me in my most intimate places. I felt the heat throughout my groin, beginning deep within my ass and spreading through my balls, my shaft and my belly. I was stroking furiously now, and Mark was giving me encouraging words and noises. I knew this was going to be a big load. Just the thought of exposing myself and wanking myself off like this in front of this boy was so horny. I’d enjoyed plenty of hot sex with young men, but this was different; I was doing it in front of a hot, cute, sexy teenage lad who was also my nephew and who really turned me on. And here I was, doing it, stroking my rigid adult cock above his smooth naked body, as his hand touched me and his eyes watched every movement of my hand. This couldn’t last much longer. My cock felt thicker and harder than for a long time. In a reflex move, I knelt up again, my cock straining out towards his young body, needing to fire myself over him. His hand reached through between my legs and that started to send me over the edge.

“Oh, shit, Markie. I’m going to cum – big time. Watch out!” His response was to grasp my balls again and try to squeeze the juice upwards and out of them. A thick dollop of creamy cum shot from the tip of my cock with such force and speed that it was still travelling upwards when it hit the sloping tent wall on the other side of Mark. It dropped back onto his body, but I was barely aware of it. My second, third and fourth blasts were spewing out of me. Without conscious thought, I kept altering the direction of my cock to spray my juice across him. One blast landed on his chin and neck; a second in the middle of his chest; and a third fell across his cock. My hand was covered with jism that flowed over my fist before dripping down onto his hand beneath me.

“Of fuck, Steve. That was so hot just watching you. A real guy just shooting off like that all over me.” I looked down at him. “You’ve covered me in cum.” His hand reached up to wipe some of my cum off his chin; then he transferred it to his mouth. He moved slightly to retrieve his phone. I watched as he selected the camera setting and took a couple of shots of his cum-streaked body. His own cock would have been in the shot, and maybe mine too.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself once I started to shoot like that.” There were still a few drops of cum oozing out of my cock. “I’ll get the tissue paper and wipe it off you.”

“It’ll take the whole roll,” he joked. “No, better use my towel. They I’ll put it straight in the laundry when I get home tomorrow.” I stretched my arm out to pick up his towel. I reached for a bottle of drinking water and wet part of the towel. Then I began wiping his cum-covered chest and abdomen. I worked down his body until I was eventually lifting and cleaning his young cock. “Oh, that feels nice, Steve – you doing that to me.” As he spoke, his hand moved to hold my own shaft as I still knelt alongside him. “I’ve been wanting to touch you – my first full-sized adult penis,” and he continued to gently squeeze me as I finished cleaning him up.

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now?” I asked, putting the towel aside.

“Mmm, yes – and maybe now I’ll have some pretty good dreams too.” He was smiling in delight.

I didn’t know what to say to him. I lay back down on my mat and pulled my sweatpants up again to cover myself. His body was still exposed. “It must really smell of cum and sex in here,” he said.

“Yes, I reckon so,” I agreed, “You need to get inside your sleeping bag because the temperature is going to fall tonight.”

“OK,” he agreed reluctantly, “I just want you to know how good that felt, and how much fun it is being here with you.

oOo

It didn’t take us long to fall asleep afterwards. The next morning we were both up quite early. Mark rolled over towards me before getting up and we enjoyed a hug together from within our respective sleeping bags. “Thank you so much, Steve. Thanks for bringing me away for the weekend. Thanks for the adventure in the mountains. Thanks for showing me stuff and doing things with me. I really hope we can do it again soon.”

“Markie – I still really am your uncle. Your dad is my brother, even though I am quite a bit younger than him. We’ve had a good time this weekend, but you need to remember that I’m ‘Uncle Steve’ to everyone. And I’m pretty worried about those photographs you took. They could get us both into a lot of trouble. You just need to be very careful.”

“I know, I know. I’m not a young boy any more ‘Uncle Steve’” and he laughed. “But I’m also learning what I like and what I enjoy. I will be very careful. I’ve really come to trust you, so – please – trust me to take care of everything in my family – and trust me know what it is that I want. Please.”

I gave him a long look and another hug. “OK, Markie, I’ll try. I’m very happy to be your friend as well as your uncle. But you have to be careful once we leave here.”

He nodded. “Yes, I will.”

Over the next hour we prepared a final breakfast and started to strike camp. With a last look around at our mountain retreat, we began to descend towards the car and the drive back to Mark’s home where I would leave him before continuing on to my flat in Leeds that evening.

oOo

The next chapter should appear here within a month. Where next for Steve’s infatuation with Markie? If you can’t wait that long, you can read any of my other complete books that are now available for download from https://payhip.com/tompickles. They all have similar subject matter!. Or use the Nifty Search function to locate any of my previous books in instalment format by searching on the book’s title.

Check out my other books about teen boys

Boy Haiku

Thai Pan – A Jungle Tale

Toby’s Secret Journal

Boy – The Mentoring of a Gay Teen

My Nephew Mark

The Complete Works
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