Date: Sat, 20 Dec 2003 20:37:39 EST From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com Subject: Skipped by Santa SKIPPED BY SANTA By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM "Boy! It's really coming down out there." I said, looking out the window of Uncle Jack's cabin that Christmas Eve, and up at the sky. "There's going to be a lot of snow this Christmas." Dusk was getting heavy, but you could still see the snow falling, like black clumps out of a deep gray sky, it was like they appeared out of nowhere. Uncle Jack was listening to the television, which had interrupted the Christmas show for a weather forecast, which was why I was looking out the window. He had to pay attention to the weather; he lived way up the side of a mountain and he got snowed in sometimes in winter. "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of." Uncle Jack said. "What do you mean?" I asked. "So Mom and Dad may not make it for Christmas morning?" Uncle Jack looked at me. "Tim, I'm not even sure Santa Claus can make it this Christmas." he said. "What?" I scoffed. "Don't be silly! Santa Claus doesn't get stopped by a little snow. It's going to be a great Christmas, I just know it." I said. "It's not a little snow this Christmas, it's a lot of snow." Uncle Jack said. "Santa Claus may not know you're up here with me this Christmas until it's too late. He might have to leave your presents at your house instead." Being six years old is a funny time. You're old enough to figure things out, but people don't think you're old enough to figure them out. Like Mom and Dad. They had brought me up here four days ago when school let out for Christmas break to stay with Uncle Jack while they went back home to spend some time together. They explained it to me that they had to do a lot of work, and I wasn't supposed to know that they were fighting a lot and wanted to spend some time alone together so they could try to work things out. Being the only child of parents who are about to break up (something else I wasn't supposed to know) has its advantages; I could (and did) play on their feelings of guilt mercilessly to get whatever I wanted. Like the bicycle I wanted for Christmas, which they had promised that Santa would bring me. Santa! At six, you're still supposed to believe in Santa! Well, I still pretended to believe (they might decide to not give you any presents if they find out you don't believe, you know), but I had made sure Daddy was close by when I sat on Santa's lap and told him I wanted a bicycle for Christmas. Even looked over to make sure he got it. He had. So as I had said to Uncle Jack, this was going to be a great Christmas. But this was confusing me. Santa might not make it? Santa always made it! Santa was Mom and Dad and both of them knew I wanted a bike for Christmas! "Santa may have to leave it at my house?" I said. "Why would he do that?" "Because it's snowing so hard." Uncle Jack said. He was trying to not spoil the Santa-secret. "I mean, it's snowing so hard that he might be too busy thinking about the snow to remember that you're really up here for Christmas, so he might just leave it at your house instead. Along with your mother and dad, for safekeeping, because of the snow." "Is it going to snow that hard?" I asked, looking back out the window. Uncle Jack always had a lot of snow every year; I had been looking forward to Christmas at his cabin, so I could play in the snow along with my new toys. I don't want you to think Uncle Jack's cabin was primitive, like those things they rent to people on vacation or for hunting. He lived here year-round, so it was a regular one-bedroom house, with a big fireplace and lots of regular furniture and a cooking stove and furnace to heat the house when he wasn't burning a fire in the fireplace. But the fire was big and roaring, and it made the whole house nice and warm. A little too warm, actually, but fires are like that. I went back over to the couch and snuggled up to him. The show was starting again. "Well." I said, trying to be generous. "If Santa wants to leave my presents at my house, that's okay, I guess. I can get them when I go back home." "We'll have a good Christmas even if Santa doesn't get up here with your presents." Uncle Jack said. "Your Mom and Dad can bring them if Santa doesn't." "You think Mom and Dad will make it here later tonight?" I asked. "I hope so." Uncle Jack said. "We're going to fix up your bedroll in my bedroom for tonight, so they can rig out the sleeper sofa when they get here without waking you. Not to mention that Santa needs to bring in and decorate the tree, too." "Okay." I said, snuggling up against his chest some more. It was nice and soft, Uncle Jack worked construction so his chest muscles were really big, which made them really soft when you rested your head against it. He smelled good, too, kind of warm and strong and comforting and natural. Mom used a lot of perfume and Dad smelled heavily of tobacco and sometimes of beer, too. But Uncle Jack just smelled...nice. Just like him, really nice. He'd made me feel very welcome these last four days, just the two of us, he had helped me build snowmen and took me riding on his snowmobile and we had snowball fights. It was like having a full-time friend, for he didn't have to work much in winter-time. I thought of something and looked up at him. "Uncle Jack?" "Yeah, Tim?" he said. He had a really nice face, kind of serious and kind of little-boy at the same time. His face had no lines on it, just his hair, deep brown like mine and Mom's, his eyes were deep brown, too, but with black lines you could just see, not solid, his cheeks were round beneath his eyes and sloped softly around his mouth to his chin. His nose was as neat and its sides slanted just like the roof of a house, his mouth was soft and clean and his teeth when he smiled--which was often--were shiny, even and unmarred. Not like Dad's teeth, which were stained brown from his smoking, and Mom, who had those two teeth missing from when she was in a car accident about the time I was a year old (I wasn't in the car then) and she had never gotten them replaced, just left them open and showing every time she opened her mouth. "What are we going to do for Christmas dinner?" "Oh, I got everything for Christmas dinner." Uncle Jack said, smiling broadly. "Santa won't have to skip the dinner then?" I said. "No." he said and his smile slipped. "What are we having?" "I bought a turkey and we'll make cornbread dressing and mashed potatoes and a big, thick chocolate cake. And your mother is going to bring stuff, too, like candied yams and a salad and ice cream and soda pop." "Cool!" I said and meant it. And yawned. "I'm getting sleepy." Uncle Jack turned off the television. "Let's get you into bed. Nothing we can do about the weather no matter how it turns out." I sleepily stripped out of my clothes to just my briefs and got into the sleeping bag. It was cooler in the bedroom but not too cool. With the sleeping bag, it felt good after a while and I went on to sleep. Uncle Jack woke me up in the early morning. "Tim? Tim? It's Christmas morning." I yawned and sat up and he said quickly, "Santa didn't get up here, and neither did your Mom and Dad. They called to say he left your presents at your house, and they'd bring them up when they come up later today, if they can." Uncle Jack was wearing just a pair of pajama bottoms, and I could see his chest, all thick with hair that made circles around his tits and a heavy line down to his belly button. I looked at him real good and he looked at me looking at him, looked down, and I thought I'd better look away. So I looked out the window, and there was a real blizzard blowing outside. Made the house sort of dark, no wonder I hadn't wakened until Uncle Jack came and got me. "But Santa did bring me my bike?" I asked him. "Do you know if Santa brought my bike?" "Yes." he said, sure enough that I knew Dad had told him. "Santa left your bike at your house, it'll be waiting for you when you get home." "Cool!" I said. "But there's no presents and no tree just now." Uncle Jack said, worried, as I climbed out of bed. "But for today, until your Mom and Dad arrive, we'll do whatever you want to, okay?" "Okay." I said. "So get dressed." "No." I said willfully. "If I get to do anything I want, I'm not going to dress. Not until Mom and Dad get here." "Okay." Uncle Jack said. "You don't either." I said. "You wear your pajamas like now until they get here." I looked at his chest again, how wide and strong it was, how his waist was rippled with muscles like square bumps, making him look really strong. If he stayed like this, I could look at his chest all I wanted to. "Really?" he said. "You want to run around like this all Christmas Day? Your Mom and Dad probably won't get here until nearly nightfall." "Yeah." I said. "All day long." "Okay." he smiled and shrugged. "You're the boss today. Whatever you want to do, we'll do." "Yeah." I said. "Let's go start fixing things for Christmas dinner." "Okay." he said. "We'll start with breakfast and then we'll make a cake." Breakfast was cold cereal and then he started mixing the cake. A chocolate cake, my favorite. "I want to lick the bowl." I said, and tried to stick my finger into it. He whacked my hand with the mixing spoon, not hard, but I yelped and acted like it hurt. "Hey, you said I could do whatever I wanted to!" I complained. "I didn't mean sticking your dirty fingers into the cake mix." he said. "But I want some." I whined. "You said we could do whatever I wanted, and I want some cake batter." He ran one big finger around the edge of the bowl and extended it to me, all thick and covered with batter. "Here." he said. I took his finger into my mouth and sucked on it. Nice. It was sweet from the cake batter, of course, but there was something more, something that I really liked. I kept on sucking on it even when I had it clean, looked at him with his finger in my mouth kind of walleyed, and his eyes kind of grew big and his mouth opened a little like he was about to say something, but he didn't. "What?" I asked him. "Nothing." he said. "Give me some more." I coaxed him. "On your finger for me." He lifted up a fat dollop of it just on his fingertip and I caught his finger in my mouth again and sucked on it and I heard him give a very soft groan as I tasted his finger, it was like he smelled, all warm and big and comforting. He kind of shook himself and pulled his finger out. "Tastes good." I said. "You'll have to get a spoon if you want any more." he said as he began to whip it really good and fast with the spoon. I watched his body as he stirred, how one of his breasts kind of jiggled like Jell-O when he stirred like that and I wanted to reach out and feel how that breast jiggled. But he finished before I could figure out a way to grab hold of him like that and he poured it into two flat round pans he had greased and floured. "You want to put it into the oven?" he asked. "While I make the cornbread?" "Okay." I said. When I opened the oven door, which he'd turned on before he had started mixing, I noticed something. "Uncle Jack? The oven isn't working." "What?" he came over and checked it. "Pilot light must have gone out." he said. He opened the bottom door of the oven and got down on his hands and knees, looking like a big dog when he did that, and peered inside. "Yep, the light's out." He got a match and a length of paper and lay down on his back and I watched his muscles move in slow rhythmic harmony as he fed that paper back inside the oven to the back near the wall. He did this for a time and said, "Not lighting. It must be busted. We'll have to fix things on top of the stove. How am I going to fix the turkey, though?" He got up and turned on the stove's burners. "The entire stove is busted." He looked at me. "Is it getting colder in here?" "Yeah." I admitted. I'd felt cold for a while, but thought it was just because I hadn't put on anything, was just wearing my briefs. He went to the living room where the thermostat was. Fiddled with it, but the heat didn't turn on. "Shit!" He said, not realizing he'd said it. "That's what's wrong, the gas lines have frozen solid. Can't clear them with this blizzard going. We'll have to build up the fire to keep warm even. And how will I cook anything with no stove?" "Build a fire." I said. "We'll be all right. Nice and warm." Uncle Jack put some more logs on the fire, which had burned down, and he poked it until the fire began to build up again from the hot coals. "Some Christmas this is! No presents, no tree, no parents, now not even a proper dinner. Shit!" He said, and sat down, thoroughly bummed out. I had an idea and went in and got one of the cake tins out of the oven. Carried it into him in the living room and said, "Can I have this?" "Uh?" He looked at me, at it. "Sure, kid, do anything you want to with it. We can't bake any cakes today." "Anything I want to?" I said, to be sure. "Sure, it's all yours." "Okay, then." I said and I turned the pan up and I dumped it right on his chest! He yelped in outraged surprise and I giggled. "You look funny." I said. That thick cake batter was clinging to him and running down his stomach slowly. "It's getting all over you." And I giggled again. He looked down at it and at me, and suddenly he laughed and laughed nice and loud and said, "Yeah, it sure is." I reached out and ran a finger over that batter on his chest and then stuck it in my mouth. "Tastes good." I said. The hairs on his chest where I'd run my finger looked funny, all covered with chocolate batter but still sticking up. Like Uncle Jack was made out of cake batter. "You know how it'll taste better?" he asked me. "How?" "When it's all over you!" he grabbed me and pulled me down onto his sticky, gooey chest, me on top of him and him lying on the couch, and he rubbed himself against me, getting me all sticky with the cake batter. I yelped and squirmed and giggled while those big pecs of his chest rubbed over my body. "Now I'm all sticky." I said when he stopped, our bodies stuck together. "We both are." he said. "Now how are we going to get clean? Take a shower?" "No hot water." he reminded me. "Just have to stay messy, then." I said. "Or we can lick each other clean." He got that wide-eyed, open-mouthed look again but this time I didn't hesitate, I leaned down and licked that cake batter straight off from his chest. The hairs felt funny under my tongue, the way they'd sort of stripe my tongue as I ran it over it. "Mmmh." I said. "It tastes even better this way." I leaned over to his left nipple, which had the cake batter on it and I got hold of it and sucked at it, ran my tongue around that little button. That's when I felt his dick against my leg. All kind of hard and warm and it felt kind of funny and kind of nice at the same time. I began to move my body so I could rub against it and Uncle Jack again gave one of those low moans of his. "You like it when I do this?" I asked him and reached down to lick at his body again while I kept rubbing against his dick. "Yeah." he sighed. "Oh, yeah. Feels great." "Your dick is hard." I reminded him. "I can feel it against my leg." "Yeah." he said. "I never felt one that big before. You must have a really big dick, Uncle Jack." "You felt them before?" Uncle Jack was surprised. "Just my friends at school." I clarified. "We get in bed at time when we sleep over and rub each other. You ever do that?" "I did when I was little." Uncle Jack agreed. "Can I?" I asked him. "Can you what?" "Can I rub your dick?" "Tim, I...." That's as far as he got before I reached down into his pajamas, all sticky with the cake batter, and down and caught hold of his dick. "Ooh, it is big." I said. "I never felt any dick this big before." "Ohh! Ohhh!" Uncle Jack groaned. "You like that?" I said as I gripped it nice and tight. "Yeah, oh, yeah!" Uncle Jack moaned. "Then I want to play with it." I said. "You said we could do anything I wanted to this Christmas, so I want to play with it." I thought of something. "You can play with mine, too, if you want to." Uncle Jack just looked at me, his big warm eyes all open and vulnerable and soft as I sat upright and I got those pajama bottoms pulled down on him, tucked the elastic band under his balls. I couldn't believe how big his dick was. I'd never seen a grown-up's dick before, but I had no idea they got this big. "Man, I could put both my hands on this!" I said in awe. And I did, I got hold of his cock with both hands and I pulled up on it and Uncle Jack let out a loud groan like nothing I'd ever heard before. "Ohhh! Oh, baby!" he said as I pulled that thick foreskin up and it wrinkled and puckered at the top of his glans like a rosebud. "You like that?" I asked. "Yes, baby, yes." he moaned. "Do it some more." "Like this?" I said as I pushed my hand back down and then pulled it all up again. "Ooh, yeah, like that, baby, like that." Uncle Jack coaxed me. "Only faster." I did it again, faster, and again and again and Uncle Jack groaned every time I pulled it up and down. He was really enjoying this, I could tell. "Wow!" I said, "I never saw anyone groan as much as you do, Uncle Jack. The guys at school only groan just a little at the end, but you like every bit of it, don't you?" "Oh, yeah!" Uncle Jack groaned. "More, baby, more, please!" "I want to see how fast I can do it." I said. "Yeah, baby, see how fast you can do it!" He urged me. "Yeah, please!" "Okay." I agreed and I began to really move my hands up and down that thick shaft. Uncle Jack loved it when I did that fast, he was twisting and moaning like it was just the best thing in the whole world. His eyes were wide as he looked up at me, his little nephew pumping on his dick, and his mouth was wide open, then he'd screw his face up all shut and throw his head back and moan out real loud and fall back and then his eyes would open up and he'd look at me again, like he couldn't believe I was here and doing this for him. His dick was acting funny, too, it was all warm, really warm, and the top of it was all gooey with a clear liquid like the glue you buy which sticks really hard. His body was smelling, too, all thick and musky and a little salty-smelling, a really thick smell, it was all over the place and I said, "Well, if you like it this fast, how about this fast." and I really began to pump on him really hard and fast, so that my hands were a blur on his cock, and he moaned, moaned, moaned, oh, oh, oh, oh, and then he groaned out, "UH-UH, GUH-HNNN-KUH!" and that's when everything happened. I didn't know what had happened at first. It was like seeing a volcano erupt, thick globs of white goo sprayed out and all over the place, it landed on me and on him and on the couch, just flying everywhere, and Uncle Jack was groaning so loudly I couldn't believe it, only I knew that he was really liking whatever it was going on and so I kept right on pumping, and that white stuff sprayed all over both of us and it was hot and sticky and like the cake batter only it smelled like he'd been smelling only more so, really thick and musky and Uncle Jack was moaning and gasping and panting hard. And then, suddenly, it was all over, and he wasn't doing anything but lying there and breathing hard. I kept pumping his dick, but it got soft pretty quick, so I gave it up. "Gee," I said, "that was great! But what was all that white stuff? Did it hurt you?" He smiled and looked up at me. "No, that didn't hurt me. It's called come, and yours will do it too when you get older." "Will my weinie get as big as yours when I grow up?" I asked him. "Maybe." he said. "Yours is so big and thick." I said. "I don't see how you keep this thing in your pants when it gets hard." "I try not to get hard when I'm wearing pants." he admitted. I giggled. "I bet it really sticks out in front of you when it does." "Yeah, it does, sort of." "I want to see that." I said. "Maybe you will." he promised. "I'll be sure to let you see when it does." I leaned over, saw how the white stuff he'd shot out was sitting on top of the cake batter in almost separate little pockets it had made for itself, like it was floating just above it. "You really are a mess." I said. "Is this white stuff like pee?" "No, not at all." He said. "It's salty and sticky but it's not anything like pee. Some people like the way it tastes, even." "Really?" I leaned over and caught one big blob of it which was nestled in a clump of cake batter and picked it all up in my mouth at once. Ran that around my mouth. "Hm." I said as I swallowed. "Sweet and salty." "Come is just salty." he pointed out. I leaned over and touched my tongue to just a clump of come on his chest. Tried to lift it off that way but couldn't. I got cake mix with it, too. "I can't tell what it tastes like." I complained. "I want to see if I like it." "Uh." he looked at himself. "On my arm, there's one with no cake batter." I leaned over and scarfed it off. Licked my lips and smacked them. "Tastes pretty good." I said. "Tastes like you. I like the way you taste." And I realized one place he wasn't covered in cake batter that had a lot of his come on it. His dickhead. I scooted back and said, "Ooh, here's a bunch of it." and I leaned over and pulled that cockhead into my mouth and sucked on it. Nice and salty, really nice. "Tastes like I'm licking salty peanuts." I chuckled. His cock was getting hard again as I did that. "Wow, Uncle Jack, are you wanting to do it again?" I asked him. "The guys at school, when they finish, they want you to just let go and leave them alone." "I can go again a little later." He agreed. "But we haven't given you any fun, and we have to get his cake mix cleaned off us. We're both a mess." I got up off of Uncle Jack and as he sat up I skinned down my briefs. "Like this, Uncle Jack?" I asked him. "Yeah, like that." He said and I stepped up and he surprised me by taking my dick into his mouth right away. He was using his lips like I used my fingers! I couldn't believe it, it felt really incredible, and my little dick got so hard in his warm, wet mouth. "Ooh, Uncle Jack!" I groaned. "This feels great!" His head was bobbing back and forth on my tiny little hard dick, his lips clenched into a small circle so he could hold it tightly as he did it. I didn't last any time at all, you can believe, between having Uncle Jack sucking me and me watching him suck me, that big, strong body of his, I watched the muscles on his back as they flexed back and forth and his lips were velvety smooth, warm and slippery and I quickly hit that tiny little climax you have at age six, just a sort of tingle that feels really good and then stops without anything happening at all. Now that I knew it would be so much better later on, it was almost disappointing how it felt. I wanted my body to shoot big, hot streams of come into the air, and splatter all over like Uncle Jack's did. "Ooh, oh, oh, okay, Uncle Jack, I'm done." I told him like I told my friends when they finished me off. He stopped and looked up at me. "And that's called sucking cock." he informed me. "Yeah?" I said. "Is it fun?" "It sure is." Uncle Jack said. "Especially when you do it with someone who's doing it for you." "I want to suck yours." I said. He grinned up at me. "I was hoping you'd say that. Okay, but let's get cleaned up first. We're both sticky with chocolate cake batter, and it's starting to itch." "Yeah." I said, scratching my cake-mix encrusted body. "I'll heat a pan of water over the fire." he said. "Enough to let us wash ourselves off." "Okay." I said and while he fetched a pan of water, I looked outside. "Boy, it's really snowing out there still." I said when he came back with the water. He got the pan fixed up on a couple of the logs which weren't burning yet but would hold it level. Then he joined me at the front window. "Yeah, that's a full blizzard. It must be ruining a lot of kid's holidays. Your parents can't even try to come here until it stops." "Then I hope it keeps going for days and days." I informed Uncle Jack. "So we can run around naked in here and play with each other's dicks all the time." He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. "You know what? I wish the same thing!" We used washrags dipped in the warm water on the fire to wash ourselves off. It was clumsy but it worked well enough. Uncle Jack put a second pot of water on the fire when the first one started getting warm and by the time we had sponged ourselves clean with the first one, the second one was warm enough to let us dip new washrags into it and wipe ourselves clean of the soap and dirty water. "We got some cake batter on the couch." I pointed out. "It's an old couch." Uncle Jack said, standing by me. "Don't worry about it." "I won't." I said and grabbed hold of his dick. "You ready now for me to suck your dick?" "Let's go get on the bed." Uncle Jack said. Uncle Jack lay on the bed and I crawled up from the foot toward him. He was smiling at me, with his head resting against the pillows and headboard, all of his body laid out, clean and inviting. I crawled in between those thick, sturdy legs of his and I said, "This is the best Christmas ever, Uncle Jack. And this is the best toy I ever had to play with, too." He laughed at that. "I like your playing with it, too." he admitted. "I like it a lot." "I can tell." I said. "I'll be glad when my body gets all grown up like yours. Can I play with you then, too?" "Sure." He said. "It's yours whenever you want it. Just think of this as my Christmas present to you." "Great!" I said. I stuck my mouth onto that thick, bulbous cockhead and was amazed again how big Uncle Jack's dick was. I could barely get that huge apple-sized thing into my mouth! "Mph!" I said as I let go. "It's too big." "Slick it up and it'll go in easier." Uncle Jack advised me, looking like some big, sleek cat lying there. "Just wet it all down with your spit." I did what he said, licking that big dick of his like an ice cream cone. Uncle Jack liked that, he smiled and sighed as I did that, slowly worshiping his cock. "That's it, baby." he soothed me as I slathered his cockhead. "Now, try to take it in nice and slowly. Let your mouth get used to it." I did as he said, my mouth now slid over it though it was still a huge mouthful for me. I got it inside my mouth like putting in a plum whole into my mouth, and it was sitting there on my tongue like a huge blob. I looked up at Uncle Jack like that and he said, breathing heavily. "Now, don't try to take any more of it than you're comfortable with. Just run your lips back and forth over what you have. That'll do just fine, baby." I did, I sort of rocked my lips around the flare of the glans and Uncle Jack moaned. "Ooh, yeah, that feels great, Tim. Suck your uncle's dick like that for him. Oh, God, that feels great!" I smiled, glad he was liking it and I began to run my lips over it faster. "Oh, baby, oh, baby!" Uncle Jack was moaning. I got the idea of grabbing hold of the shaft and I began to pump it along with my sucking on his cockhead. That took a little while, but I figured out how to do both of them at once without the foreskin getting caught on the outside my lips. "Ah, oh, God, that's great!" Uncle Jack groaned. "Suck my cock, baby, suck it for your old Uncle Jack, suck it good!" I did, I sucked him a nice, long time. Uncle Jack said later it was because he had come just a little while before that first time, not because I was doing it wrong. It was a sweet, long, blissful time for me, tasting that hard, hot man cock. It tasted like everything I wanted to be when I grew up, everything I dreamed of becoming. Like tasting concentrated manhood before I could get it for myself. After some time, Uncle Jack breathed out huskily, "I'm going to come again, baby! Do you want to take it in your mouth?" "Mm-hm." I agreed and I began to suck on him as hard as I could and I pumped his dick as fast as I could and he moaned, gasped, groaned and with a long, loud roar, he squirted his jizz right into my mouth! Hot, hot and salty. I could feel it jetting against the roof of my mouth, feel it plop down onto my tongue and onto my tonsils. It tasted like nothing I'd ever had before, and I wanted it forever. It was like drinking down Uncle Jack, making him a part of me. I felt so special, a part of him now inside of me. So I swallowed it happily while he groaned and moaned and when he was quiet again, I crawled up onto that hairy chest of his and I settled down with my head resting between his breasts and I sighed happily and he fondled and stroked my hair with one sleepy hand. "This has been the best Christmas ever, Uncle Jack." I assured him. "For me, too, Tim." Uncle Jack said. "Only with no gas and the blizzard still going, how are we going to cook that turkey?" "Too bad we can't roast it on a stick like a wiener on a campfire." I said. He was silent then said, "Why not? Come on, kid, let's go get Christmas dinner going. If this works, it'll take all day to cook it." He made me laugh while he unwrapped the turkey, saying things like, "See this bag of stuff. Gizzard and liver. They put it in this flap in the neck. Most people think that means you're supposed to eat it, but you and me know better, don't we? Bleagh!" He used a spit he had on his barbecue grill and jury rigged up a spit for the turkey to hang on over and just in front of the fire. It was a haphazard arrangement, and we had to keep taking it off and turning it around and getting it set up right, but the turkey was done by nightfall. Between times, Uncle Jack and I sat on the couch and I held onto his cock and every time it got hard, I'd play with it or suck on it for him. He made me come twice more, but it was still just that tingle. Uncle Jack was still going strong, still spewing come into the air when he came the fourth time the same as the first. "It's because you're turning me on so much, baby." He assured me when I asked him. "Get a guy turned on enough, he'll drown you with the stuff." He also used a couple of his heavier iron pots to put in some vegetables and even tried making the cornbread that way, which worked out pretty good, actually. The storm stopped about noon and Uncle Jack turned on the radio and we heard that the snowplows were out. I jerked his cock for him while he listened, and he said, panting a little. "Your Mom and Dad will be able to get through about sundown." he said. "You and me had better think about getting dressed." "Later." I assured him. "Let me see you come again. I want you to shoot it right on my face this time." "God, you're such a little horn-dog." Uncle Jack said. "I'm going to miss you when you go back home tomorrow." We heard the car pull up and had plenty of time to run grab our clothes. Mom and Dad smiled when they saw the setup, and with what they brought, and my presents except for the bike which they brought me pictures of, and even the tree which we put up even though it was nearly over Christmas, we had a pretty good Christmas that night after all. Afterwards, Mommy said to Uncle Jack, who was her brother, "Jack, would you be okay with Tim staying here with you a while longer?" "Sure!" I said eagerly. Mom looked at Dad. "We still need to...do things," that was for me, "and it would really help if Tim stayed here until the first of the year. Would that be all right?" "That'd be more than all right!" I said eagerly. "Sure, Sis." Uncle Jack said. "Tim's great to have around, we're having a great time." "You better believe it." I said. "Best time I ever had!" "Good, then, it's settled." Mom said. "Now, it's time for Tim to get in bed." "I think I'll turn in, too." Uncle Jack said and yawned. "Come on, Tim. You can sleep with me in my bed tonight. We'll both stay warmer that way." "Okay." I said and paddled off after him. Boy, another week with Uncle Jack! Talk about getting a terrific Christmas present! THE END Comments, complaints or suggestions? E-mail me at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM