Christmas With Uncle Reg: by Hamilton Joyce (c)  Mm

The fiction was that Dad was a geologist working for an oil company in the 
Middle East. 'He would try to get home soon, perhaps for Christmas'. The fact 
was he was serving life for killing a guy in a brawl in a bar, over football on 
the television, of all things. A 'helpful' neighbour had told me this a year or so 
before. I never let on to Mother that I knew.

So I had no father, effectively. Mother's brother, Uncle Reg, used to visit us 
every Easter, Christmas, and once during the summer holidays. How I used to 
look forward to these visits, and after the one I am about to describe, I'm sure 
he did too!

It was just after my twelfth birthday. I'm sure of that because I was born in 
December and this was a Christmas visit. I remember we had had the 
traditional family dinner, just the three of us, and then the young couple in the 
apartment above us dropped in for a few drinks in the evening. I'd been 
allowed wine with the dinner, and a couple of sherries after, and  I was 
probably slightly drunk by the time the couple left and Uncle Reg announced 
he was going to bed. Certainly my level of inhibition, in so far as a twelve year 
old boys has inhibitions, was lowered.

Uncle Reg was certainly drunk. Very!

Our apartment only had two bedrooms, so I was always put into bed with him. 
(What innocent days they were! What mother would do that nowadays?) 
Anyway, this was not the first time it had happened. It always did every visit. 
The difference was that I had reached puberty. And Uncle Reg was drunk.

I was in bed before him, and I can remember fleeting glimpses of his strong, 
hairy body, and above all his cock, hanging like a thick hose-pipe in front of 
him as he pulled his pyjamas up. Just a quick 'Good Night, Paul.' And the 
light was out.

My cock was hard, waiting for my usual night-time wank. I had learned how to 
do this a few months before, quite spontaneously. I was still young enough not 
to have enough cum to need a handkerchief with me. Softly, gently, and I 
thought discretely, I stroked my cock as I lay on the bed. I thought about the 
broad-shouldered, sun-tanned guy in my picture, the one sucking the slim 
guy's cock. Then I was fantasising about Uncle Reg's prick. I wondered how it 
would look erect. Suddenly a hand grasped mine, enfolding it and my cock 
together, his hand round mine, my hand round my cock.

'I'll do that for you, Paul.' He removed my hand, and I felt his running up and 
down the shaft. I remember thinking he did not do it as well as me, either too 
loose or sometimes gripped too tight. But it was nice the way he cradled my 
balls with his other hand, tickling them gently. I lay back, enjoying the 
sensations, and thinking mainly now about his hairy body and the cock with its 
great black bush of hair. I wanted to reach out and feel him, but ludicrously I 
did not dare.

Then, suddenly, the covers were thrown back, and I felt his lips and mouth on 
me. The feeling was incredible, warm and wet as he sucked, and his tongue 
licked round my shaft at the same time. I felt I was coming, and I must have 
moaned, because he sucked harder and faster, rubbing my cock as well with 
his free hand. And I had the biggest orgasm of my young life.

Afterwards he lay silent beside me, not embracing, but I could feel his hairy 
body laying against mine, especially his legs. I knew he was stroking his own 
cock now, could feel the vibration in the bed, and hear the rustle. I reached 
down and found my hand on his, his cock under both. 'Let me, Uncle.' He 
removed his hand, and I found myself grasping his cock, which seemed to a 
twelve-year-old to be huge. (In fact, as I later found out, he was on the small 
size of average, and a good thing too, seeing what was to happen later that first 
Christmas!) I stroked him and because I had just learned this, cradled and 
tickled his hairy balls. The skin tightened and went wrinkly as I did this. I still 
love that in a partner when making love!

Then I found I really wanted to, and knelt over him in the pitch-black of the 
room. I ran my lips over his hairy belly, and then touched his cock with the tip 
of my tongue. He groaned, and on an impulse I closed my lips round his knob. 
He was not so large that I had any difficulty getting half the shaft into my 
mouth. So I sucked him, while still stroking the base of his shaft with one 
hand, and his balls with the other. 

There was no warning. Suddenly my mouth was filled with the warm, thick, 
wetness of his cum. I swallowed and swallowed. It was just slightly salty that 
night (it did not always taste exactly the same I later learned). 

In the morning the only reference was when I saw him looking at my usual 
morning hard-on. I said to him. 'Better wait till tonight, Uncle Reg. Mother is 
likely to bring our tea and coffee any minute.'

'That's right, young Paul It's got to be our secret. Always.'

                              ........................................................................

Luckily I never had to justify myself, as Paul kept our sex secret and has done 
all these years. But if I had had to excuse myself for what I did, I could have 
asked 'Who could blame me? She put me in bed with a teenage boy, and 
expected me not to want him! And, wanting him, not to have him! And what a 
beautiful boy. I shall describe him for you.

It was that moment when a child moves on to adolescence, when the hormones 
start to rage, when the cock is ever-hard, when sexuality is un-defined, and 
anything, male, female, even inanimate things can be objects of desire. He was 
a pretty boy, with blonde hair, worn quite long, a clear, pale complexion, and 
full, sensual lips. His eyes could have a languid, come-here look in them when 
he was interested in someone. I often saw that. In fact that first day after our 
first night, I was constantly aware of him looking at my crotch, mentally 
undressing me, looking forward to seeing as well as feeling my erect prick. 
And, needless to say, I was looking forward equally to having him naked in the 
full light. We were almost conspiratorial through the day, often catching each 
other's eye and smiling. I would secretly pass my hand over my crotch and he 
would reciprocate with the same gesture. We were working ourselves up into a 
real passion!

But I should describe him. He was not yet muscular, as later he would be. But 
he was not 'feeble' either. He is best described as slender, but well-covered. I 
especially admired (of course!) his boyish, smooth bottom, and that firm, flat 
belly. Sometimes his 'leggy' legs reminded me of a young foal.  He had a 
typical and admirable willingness to dare to 'try anything'.

That first night was incredible. I had lain there beside him, silent, hardly daring 
to move. I swear that all Christmas Day, through the dinner, and even later, I 
had not thought of him sexually at all. He was just my little nephew Paul, a 
child. But then I had seen him naked, from the rear, as he put on his pyjamas, 
and caught him looking at me (from the front, showing him my half-hard 
cock) as I prepared for bed. We lay there in the dark, and I realised he was 
jerking off. Without thinking I reached out, and my hand landed unerringly on 
his busy fingers. If I had considered what I was doing, perhaps I would never 
have risked it. But I did it in a second, on impulse, and now I was running my 
hand up and down that slender, smooth shaft. I fumbled and felt for his balls 
with my free hand, caressing, stroking them.

I had to! I pushed back the bedclothes and placed my mouth over his cock. I 
felt an instant of surprise in him as he flinched, but then it was all delight as I 
sucked and flickered my tongue over him, and almost instantly he came, the 
slightest drops of cum.

I said nothing. Nor did he. But as I lay beside him in the dark, feeling his body 
touching mine, and especially his legs along mine, I started to jerk myself off. 
His hand on my cock. His hand jerking me. His mouth on my prick, licking at 
first, then sucking properly. I lay there luxuriating, allowing the tension and 
pleasure to rise. Then I was coming. He didn't gag. He swallowed, sucked, 
swallowed, sucked.

                         .......................................................................................

All the next day, Boxing Day, I had been in a state of tension. I knew what 
might happen to me in bed later. In the summer I had been walking on the golf 
course, and found a sheet of paper blowing in the breeze. It was torn from a 
magazine. There were four colour pictures. Two were of bronzed guys sucking 
cocks. The other one, the centrefold,  was of a  huge hairy bear of a man 
fucking a slender, boyish-looking guy in the arse as he knelt.  I half-hoped 
half-feared that Uncle Reg would do that to me. I so hoped it wouldn't hurt. It 
looked as if it might, yet the boy in the photograph was obviously enjoying it. 
The cock was right up in him, yet he still had a hard cock, and there was a 
dreamy look in his eyes. Yes, he was enjoying it all right!

I kept on catching Uncle Reg's eye, and we would smile secretly at each other. 
Sometimes when he was looking I would pass my hand over my crotch (hard 
most of the day), and he would do the same to his. By evening I was desperate 
to have some more of him.

In the evening we all three watched the television, a silly Christmas variety 
show. Uncle Reg yawned at the end of it. 'I'm tired, Elizabeth. Bedfordshire 
for me.'

' Me too, too much good food and drink. You'd better go as well, Paul. 
Otherwise you'll only wake your uncle up when you go to bed.'

Need I say I didn't protest being sent to bed early! 

We undressed beside the bed, and I had my first chance to see him naked. I 
pressed my face to his hairy chest, and felt his cock harden pressed against my 
chest. My cock went stiff as if in sympathy. He leaned down and we kissed, 
my first ever kiss. It was certainly exciting, and there was so much to learn. 
His tongue forced in between my lips and then I put mine in his mouth. I was 
surprised how open our mouths were, how slippery and slobbery. But I loved 
it! He was making panting noises in his passion, and his hands were on my 
back and bottom, caressing, stroking, kneading the flesh. I did the same to his 
back, covered in hair, even his bottom.

He lifted me up and laid me on the bed, which he had turned back to the white 
sheets. Then he was beside me, a hand on my cock, kissing me again. I could 
just close my fist round his cock, which seemed, wrongly, to be huge. I 
thought he would suck me off like the night before, but he had other ideas.

He turned me on my belly and I felt the roughness of his cheeks against my 
smooth skin as he kissed first one cheek then the other. Then his hands parting 
me, and the roughness between my cheeks. I giggled as the point of his tongue 
tickled my anus.

'Tickles?'

'Yes, it's nice, Uncle. Don't stop.'

'Sh! No noise!'

His tongue was licking now, and I could feel his lips as he kissed me there. He 
was still holding my cock lightly, and I felt his tongue slipping in and out. I 
had never imagined such a thing. It was so good, and so grown-up!

There was a plastic bottle of baby-oil on the bedside table, beside the light. He 
reached for it and squirted some between my arse cheeks. Now I knew what 
was going to happen. In the picture you could see they had used oil as it 
gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting from the boy's buttocks and the man's 
shaft. My heart leapt, but I was also very afraid. His fingers now, spreading the 
oil over my anus, stroking, pressing, penetrating perhaps a half inch. This was 
good. I found I was relaxing. Then I felt his finger slipping into me, slipping 
out and then in again.

He turned me on my side so I was facing him, his finger still deep in me. As 
we lay there kissing, he was whispering all sorts of endearments, promises, 
and suggestions, so quietly. But all the time his finger was moving in and out, 
relaxing my anus. Then I was sure it was two fingers, and somehow he had 
found a sensitive place. Not only the kissing and caressing was good now ; I 
was getting a nice feeling from my arse.

I almost forgot to stroke his cock I was so enthralled.

Then, with his fingers still in me he had me kneel.

'Don't hurt me Uncle.'

'You'll love this, Paul. It may hurt for a second, but after that it'll be good. I 
know because I do it too. Be brave and we'll make a man of you!'

I felt his hand parting my cheeks, and his knob pressing my anus. 'You're 
quite open from my fingers, Paul.' The feeling of his knob pressing on me 
there was very good. Then it slipped in. It hurt! But I didn't cry out. I believed 
him, and as the shaft slid in and I contracted on it, it really did hurt. But now 
he was moving in and out, and suddenly the pain had gone, and was replaced 
by ... well nothing really. No pleasure and no pain. His fingers had been better.  
My cock was still hard, and I stroked it as he fucked me. Gradually I was 
feeling something there. A feeling of fullness, warmth, and something 
communicating itself to my cock!

'Oh! Uncle. Do me harder, please.'

'Shh!' Mother was in the next room!

But he was fucking me hard and fast now, his thighs smacking onto my 
bottom, his hands grasping my shoulders. I felt his mouth on my neck kissing 
me there and then I knew he was coming, as the thrusts were slower, deeper, 
and the cum made him slip easier. He collapsed on me and we rolled sideways, 
his cock still up me.

I felt him caressing my chest, my belly, and then my cock. I had not come. 
With a little spasm my arse expelled his cock. I giggled. The feeling of it going 
out was nice! 'That was nice, Uncle.'

'I'm so glad. Now let me.' And his mouth was on my cock. It only took 
seconds this time for me to come in his mouth.

'You had much more cum that time, Paul. Sex must be good for you!'

                                  ...................................................................

All that day Paul had been catching my eye and smiling. I knew exactly what 
he was feeling, even without his stroking his hard cock when no-one else was 
looking. The evening dragged on as all I wanted was to get him into bed again. 
And I was sure that was all he wanted as well. Finally it was late enough for 
me to decently suggest bed, and we went upstairs together, leaving my sister to 
clear up downstairs.

I had decided I was going to have him properly tonight, and the thought had 
been exciting me all day. My only fear was that he might cry out if it hurt at 
first, with his Mother so close. I decided that it would have to be a 'nightmare 
in his sleep' if that happened. I was also worried that, over-excited as I was, I 
might cum before getting my cock solidly into his tight little bottom!

He stripped off quicker than me and, naked, watched me as I took my socks 
and pants off. My cock was at least half-hard, and I realised this was the first 
time he'd really seen it. And it was the first time I'd seen his pretty little 
pecker, so straight, slender and white, with its bright pink knob. I was glad his 
father had not had him cut! When I was naked he came and embraced me, his 
face against my chest, and kissing my nipple till it was hard. I could feel his 
cock against me, and I'm sure he could feel mine, really hard now. I licked and 
kissed his neck, and fondled and stroked his lovely bum. He was combing his 
hand through my body hair, holding me tight to him with his free hand.

I lifted him, and laid him on the bed. I had turned the sheets back ready.

The secret would be to get him really wanting it, I knew. And completely 
relaxed. So I rimmed him. That was delightful in itself. He loved it, of course, 
and giggled as my pointed tongue penetrated and licked. He had a pretty 
smooth brownish arsehole, and his cheeks were, of course, completely smooth 
for me. I hoped my bristly chin didn't hurt him as I had not shaved since 
morning. But it was clear he was enjoying this.

So now it was the baby oil and one, and then two fingers, up him, searching 
for 'the spot', masturbating him while we kissed, and I told him how much I 
wanted him, how handsome he was, and how much he was going to enjoy 
'being made a man.'

When he was completely relaxed, I had him kneel and had him. As I shoved it 
in I felt him flinch, and knew it hurt. But within seconds I could feel that had 
passed, and could see he was even jutting his buttocks out with each of my 
strokes, to meet me half way. And his little hand was beneath him, wanking 
away at a hard cock. So it was good for him too!

And for me it was good. My best fuck ever, and I mean ever! A virgin boy, 
with lovely smooth skin, blonde hair on the back of his neck, white, tight buns, 
a tight but willing hole for me. I soon came. Too soon!

Then I sucked him off, and this time there was actually some cum for me to 
swallow. My little nephew was growing up!

                                            .........................................................................

I slept so well that night, after the anticipation of the day and the excitement in 
bed that Uncle Reg was up before me, and I missed the pleasure of watching 
him walk naked round the room, dressing. When I went downstairs, Mother 
had already gone out to work at the Bakery, and there was a note from Uncle. 
'Got a bit of shopping to do in the sales. Be back about eleven. We'll carry on 
where we left off. xxxxx Uncle R.'

I took my shirt and trousers off and waited for him in my best white 
underpants, my cock usually making a tent in them!

It was just after eleven he came in with a big parcel and a smaller one. It was a 
cheap dvd player, and three disks in the smaller one. 

Luckily it was easy to set it up, and within minutes we standing in front of the 
television, him in his shirt sleeves, me in my underpants.

There were two boys on mountain bikes, one looked a bit like me I thought, 
and the other, a bit older probably, looked rather like Marcus Summerlands. 
They raced each other down a steep, rocky path, and stopped at the bottom. 
They must have been here before because they pushed their bikes through 
some thick, prickly gorse bushes beside the path and into a secret, grassy 
glade. The darker boy spread a sheet on the soft grass, and they stood on it 
kissing, and feeling each other up under their t-shirts.

Uncle Reg was behind me and I leaned back onto him. I felt him kissing and 
licking my bare back. It made me shiver with pleasure. Then his arms round 
me, one hand on my chest, pulling me back onto him, the other stroking the 
outside of my underpants. I could feel his cock hard against me, through his 
trousers. I reached behind me and grasped his cock through the cloth. He 
gasped, and fixed his mouth on my neck in a long kiss. I found the zip, pulled 
it down, and slipped my hand inside. I held his cock though his cotton 
underwear. Then I slipped his cock round the side of the pants, and held it 
naked a moment. I placed it in the crease of my arse, and leaned back onto him 
again. I could feel the knob penetrating less than half an inch. The pressure 
there was very exciting.

The boys were naked now, lying on the sheet and sucking each other. It was 
gripping, my first taste of real porn (not counting the three torn pics I had 
found).

'I bet you'd like them, Pauly! Look at them suck!'

'And I bet you would too, Uncle Reg. I'll have the bigger guy, you have the 
blonde!'

'Too right.'

We sat side-by-side on the sofa and kissed and cuddled, hands on each other's 
cocks, fondling and caressing. The older boy was fucking the younger one 
now.

'You brought the baby-oil down then?'

'Yes, Uncle, and a towel.'

'So we can fuck on your Mother's nice new sofa?'

I was embarrassed at being caught so openly wanting it, and I stammered a bit.

'This time you fuck me. I want to feel this in me.'

'I'm not very big.' Both the boys in the film, and Uncle Reg of course, were 
bigger than me.

'I'll like it. Come on.'

He was oiling his arse, and then oiled my cock. I really love the feel of a guy's 
hand massaging my oily prick!  He knelt for me. I remember thinking I was 
missing the video as I placed my knob.

'Easy, Paul. Gently.'

He flinched as I entered him, but sighed when I was finally fully inserted.

'Oh yes! Yes! Yes. Now give it me. Yes!'

I looked down at that strong, muscular back. The arse and shoulders so hairy. 
My white, slender thighs hitting into his hairy thighs and buttocks. It did not 
take long, and I came in him. I wiped myself on the towel, and then cleaned 
his arse.

He had not come, and I was still half-hard, in fact. And as soon as I was 
watching the video again, completely hard. The next film seemed to be of two 
arab-looking boys, playing on the roof of an apartment block. It looked like a 
hot country somewhere.  Uncle Reg had turned the sound down, but I guessed 
they were not talking English. Again one was older than the other, and he gave 
the younger boy  a cigarette to smoke. There must have been something in it, 
because the little boy's eyes went all dreamy, and he seemed to be going into a 
daze. Then the older boy was all over him, undoing the belt and pulling shorts 
down to ankles. It was a pretty, smooth arse! He spat on his hand and wiped it 
on his cock, and then he was in the younger boy, fucking him.

I found I could watch the film while sucking Uncle Reg. Just at the moment 
the boy shot his load over the lad's arse, white cream on the brown skin, Uncle 
Reg came in my mouth.

'You want to fuck me again, Paul?'

'It was nice Uncle, but I think I prefer being sucked and fucked myself.'

'You're going to be very popular then!' He laughed. 'OK. Let's have you, 
then.'

I lay back against the cushions, running my fingers through his hair, and 
watching the films as he sucked me off. 

                                    .................................................................

That night, laying in the dark after being fucked, and sucking him off again. 
This time he had laid me on my back and bent my legs back so my arsehole 
was bare and open for him. He had licked it, oiled it, and then fucked it. I had 
nearly come, but had managed to hold back to give him the pleasure of feeling 
me come in his mouth.

'Uncle Reg.'

'Yes.'

'Can you leave the videos with me please?'

You got somewhere safe to hide them?'

'With my school books. Mother never touches them.'

'OK then. You gonna use them for wanking?'

'I thought I'd show them to Marcus Summerlands.'

'And have sex with him?'

'You never know ...'

'He good-looking, like you?'

'He looks a bit like the dark-haired boy in the first film, and it got me thinking. 
He is always very friendly to me although he's already a fourth-year.  Mostly 
the seniors stay away from us juniors. Always comes over to chat, and 
sometimes I catch him looking at me in a certain way.'

'You reckon he fancies you, then?'

'I'm sure of it now.'

'Fourth-year. That's fifteen?'

'Mostly. He's very strong. He's a swimmer and does gymnastics. You should 
see his shoulders. Broad shoulders and tiny hips. Not hairy, like you, though.'

'You seen him naked?'

'No. He's years ahead of me so we don't do sports together. I hope he's got a 
nice cock.'

'I'm sure he has. though you may have to show him how to use it. But you 
know that now, don't you. And I tell you what. If you manage to have him, 
perhaps we can do a sexy threesome when I'm here next Easter. Now lets 
sleep. I've got to leave early in the morning, and it would be nice to have time 
for one last suck before I go!'

His good night kiss was brief, but full on my lips.

                           ...................................................................................



