Date: Tue, 2 Mar 2010 15:52:56 -0700 From: Jay roberts Subject: "Uncle John is s-o-o-o Hot, Part One" by Jay Roberts Gay Incest +++You probably feel like you are grown up. I guess I did too, at your age of under 18, but you are still an infant under the law and in my eyes. Immediately after you turn 18 I will consider you an adult, one who can stay and read this stuff. I believe that at fourteen years guys like me are at their most emotional peak. I know they say nineteen is guy's sexual peak, but love hits hardest at fourteen. I think Romeo was that age. That brings me, Shane, to confess my overheated feeling in the existence of Uncle John. John is my Mom's youngest brother. He's just twenty. How can I describe him without making a fool of myself. Well, if he walked into the room right now you would stop whatever you were doing and stare. He's six feet of perfect body, one that might have been fashioned by a master sculptor. Oh that full chest tapering down to a narrow waist (30" same as mine, and I'm thin.) His head is square with crisp, curly brown hair, some curls fall over his smooth forehead and form a frame for his bright blue eyes and impossibly long, tangly eyelashes. He looks kinda Irish, which he is. That full mouth and cleft chin are erection- causing to boys, especially me. I left out his deep buzzy voice that vibrates one's sternum, not to mention balls. Here's a secret, he doesn't know he's so gorgeous. He doesn't know that his smile lights up every dark corner in our house. And to top it off, Uncle John is a really nice guy. He's my only relative who's really interested in what I think and do. But I must say, when he fixes me with those blue eyes and talks to me, I have trouble breathing and I have to put something over my crotch. He must think I'm a weirdo. He comes to visit, usually for dinner. John likes to drink. By the time he is ready to leave, his eyes are blurry and he has a silly look on his face. Mom calls it a shit face. I don't care. He still looks good to me and I can't help by fantasize that I could get it on with him when he is a little wrecked. My time finally came. My folks run an antique store, very posh, on Columbus Avenue in New York City. Each year they make a European trip to make buys of furniture and paintings for the shop. In past years they hired a baby sitter, usually an old lady to watch me. But this year, they asked Uncle John to stay at the house. He works at a brokerage house in midtown. He packed a large bag and moved into my room. No not my bed. We have one of those old apartments on Riverside Drive. The ceilings are high and the rooms are really big. The bed he is to sleep in is in a corner, under the eaves in my bedroom. Oh heaven, can I live through having Mr. Hunk right across the room without attacking him? He can cook. He said, "After all, I'm a bachelor. I had to learn, otherwise I'd starve." He made a steak, salad and baked potato. I guess they aren't very hard to make. Uncle Johnny I began calling him to cozy up the situation. He was getting more and more buddy-buddy with me as he made his way through a six pack of ale. He had one bottle before dinner and two with dinner. Afterward we watched a basketball game and he finished the six pack and started a new one. It was a Knicks game. I'm not into basketball, especially since they began wearing those long shorts. Old games shown on TV from the sixties, those are better. The guys wore those short tight ones that advertised their stuff. Oh those long legs coming starting out right at the jock strap! Johnny was an enthusiastic fan. Whenever a basket was made, he'd jump up and down and shake his bottle at the screen in joy, but pretty soon he was getting over beered and twice he tried to stand but couldn't make it, or he stood and fell back on the couch. This caused him to grin at me in the most cutest way you can imagine. I almost made my move right then. He was squiffed enough not to notice my leg against his full thigh. Anyway the game came to an end. I asked him if he wanted something to eat. I mean, I could pour pretzels into a bowl. He shook his head no. I stared at him. Yeah! He had that shit eating face. I had been waiting for it. He slurred, "Sch-ane, I'm kinda fucked up. Ya want to help me to bed? I'm sooo tired." "Sure Unky," I cooed, "I'll be your nursey-nursey." I put my hand out for him to grab. Oh shit, his big mitt grabbed my hand. It was smooth and hot and I could see the glistening back hairs on the back of it. Pulled and he came off the couch, listing a bit. I put my arm around his slim waist, (remember 30"?) And lugged him out of the room and down to hall to the bedroom. I took him to my bed cause it was larger and I could maneuver him better there. He kept thanking me. "You're such a good kid. I owe ya." He didn't know how he was going pay me back, but I did. (Imagine me twirling my villain's moustache.) Finally we were at the side of my double bed. I pushed him and he landed on his back, his legs sticking off the bed. He began laughing hysterically. I thought, "Laugh now, later you I'll be with joy, I hope. I took off his shoes. They were big. You could bring one down to the Central Park Lake and go rowing in it. Next came his white athletic sock. They were a bit moist and great smelling. I know, I smelled them. I also leaned down and took a sniff of his actual foot. Yummy. The top of his perfectly arched feet had a matching patch of shiny hairs, like the back of his hands. Symmetry was Uncle John. I'm sure he carried this on to his balls as well. I looked up at him from my position bending down over his feet. His eyes were closed and his pretty full mouth was slack. Oh no fella, no sleep now, now is sex time. I woke him up at I undid his belt and opened his fly. I grabbed the bottom of his pants legs and pulled. They slid nicely over his hair decorated legs and pulled his undershorts off with them. Now a great sight lay before me. I cute line of fine hair acted as a road directing ones eye to his full luxurious pubic hair, curling up and out and settling also under his prick and behind his balls. What a nice protection against the cold....but not from me. I could see he wasn't completely out of it because he put one large hand over his junk. I ignored that and proceeded to the next step. I put my arms around his neck and pulled him to a sitting position and unbuttoned his shirt. It opened easy and I pulled it off his wide shoulders. My dear Uncle John fell back on the bed and lay before me, totally naked. He was drowsing again so I could feast my eyes on him. Yeah, the days in the gym were working. He had a pretty fair six pack and his pecs were excellent. The development had pulled his tits to the side and they lay toward the lower part of the muscle. The color was perfect, not dark brown like some, but salmon and nice and nubby. I know you mumbled, "What about his stuff?" Oh yeah. I just wanted to make you wait. What can I say? Well, he's circumcised like I and the whole male part of our family is. Mom and Dad emigrated from England and they follow the Royal family's custom: You know, Pomp and Circumcism. It's plump, meaty and lays snugly into the hollow formed by his full plum-sized balls. This is a cock and ball sight for the Gods. I shook my head to clear it. "No more lollygagging, let's get this show on the road." End Part one