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Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 2

by Acton


This wasn't the typical 'motel,' but a 'motor hotel,' and our room was on the third floor, and its easterly windows faced a large pasture; we had not pulled the drapes closed and morning sun filled the room and slanted across the bed--and across me, still safely in the arms of my dear uncle, my face buried in his fuzzy chest. The raking rays brightly picked out his manly, but angelic face, and his powerful chest. I slowly and gently unfolded his powerful hairy arms, sat up, and enjoyed studying this portrait of masculine beauty. His tousled blond hair picked up the sun, and glinted, even the locks falling onto his forehead. His fontal ridge featured sun-bleached eyebrows, and his closed eyes yielded an excellent opportunity of appreciating his long lashes, also golden. His beard, now beginning a third day, was now distinctly gilded stubble, very thick on his cheeks (so readily dimpled) and square chin. His powerful neck was punctuated by a prominent adam’s-apple, and curls of the dark-blond hair that so thickly covered his powerful pectorals impinged on the lowest part of his neck. (Even when he wore a crew collar tee shirt, these curls were always visible.) The hair ran in a dense but defined trail down the middle of his washboard belly to his navel, and there the trail widened into a dense tangle that merged into the his very thick dark blond, or almost light brown, pubic hair. His magnificent legs were splayed apart, emphasizing the boyishness of his waist and hips. Between his legs hung his balls, loose and large, but his penis was lying on his belly, erect, yes, but not oaken. His feet were those of an athlete, and the hair of his calves continued down onto them, only gradually thinning out toward his toes.

He stirred; and opening his beautiful eyes and smiling very widely, he looked right into my face and, without a word, reached up and putting his right hand behind my head, pulled me down to him for a profound kiss, thrilling me to my roots. Then we broke; and he rose up and rather suddenly, he effortlessly flipped me over onto my back, and pinning my arms almost behind my head with his hands as he straddled me, he leaned down and begin a long series of butterfly-like kisses on my face, my eyes, my ears, my nose, my chin, and then my neck. He said, "Relax, Mikey: Don't move," and his hands moved from my wrists to my neck and then body, caressingly, as he continued moving over my chest and then belly, and then, moving further down, he ran his tongue through my prolific public hair, and then kissed my rock-hard penis on one side and then another. I was in transports as he knelt between my widespread legs.

This was the beginning of an elaborate lovemaking to my penis. It was masturbation, yes; but much more than that. It was fellation, yes, but far more than that. It was delicate; it was firm; it was deliberate; it seemed capricious. He seemed never to let go of my erection with his two hands -- they seemed always clasping, grasping--but somehow he was also kissing it, swirling the head with his knowing tongue, and then engulfing it in his mouth, with his wet lips moving up and down and his tongue ever busy. And then suction and release. Hands, then mouth, then hands again, then mouth again. And sometimes when my phallus was in his mouth, he delicately hefted my balls with his fingertips.

"Uncle Mike," I said, "I can't stop; I'm coming." He nodded, and I jetted again and again deep into his mouth: and with suction and firm, artful handwork he intensified the orgasm far beyond any I'd ever experienced before. As a real high school stud, at least in my high school, I'd dated several girls, and, by my count -- how could I have forgotten any of them! -- I'd been sucked by six of them. But frankly, most high school girls are no damn good at oral sex, and only my long-time high school love, Cassie, with my patient training, learned to be a fairly talented fellatrix. But Cassie was never anything like this! It was my godlike uncle, the idol of my life, fellating me! And it was the first time any male had ever come close to anything like this kind of intimacy.

Mike, my cum slightly leaking from his lips onto his bristly chin, moved up my body and, holding my face in both his hands, again gave me a deep and passionate kiss, his tongue and my cum invading my mouth. When we broke, my own cum dribbled out of the corners of my mouth, and at that point I was the happiest man in the universe.

I reached up and touched his cheek, and with both hands he stroked my forearm and said, "Get up, man, let's get some breakfast."

Right over our bodies crusted with cum we pulled on tee shirts and running shorts and our Nikes, and went down to the coffee shop, where we took a booth in the corner with a view of the highway. Mike sat opposite me, as often before, but we had entered a new world, a whole new sphere of existence. This time, under the table, he very deliberately and precisely positioned his hairy right leg so that it was just barely tangent with my hairy left leg, and his left ankle gently caressed my right, while he looked more deeply into my eyes than ever he had before. He said, “Mikey, though you know I have always loved you, this is something entirely different. I think we will always have something very special together for the rest of our lives.” He maintained a constant slight contact with both my legs, when I extended my hand partway across the table, he gently placed two of his fingers on mine, for just a few seconds, as he held my eyes, giving me still another frisson of passion, though I felt I was already overcharged.

It was another beautiful early summer day, and soon we were back in the truck and on the road. But now it was different. Much of the time as we drove, his hand was on my thigh, or at least on my shoulder, or perhaps running through my hair; or my hand was on his, resting on the gear shift, or on his thigh, and often our legs were touching, but somehow, every minute we were somewhere tangent. It was easy in the roomy cab of the truck, with its generous bench seat.

Of course we had everything in the world to talk about. School, work, women, sports, books, politics, music, you name it. Mike played keyboards and sometimes was featured on brass in a raunchy bar band that had a certain following in the Palo Alto area; I played bass and dobro in a little C & W band I got together with some guys at school. We’d gotten a few gigs in the area, and I loved it. Though our bands were very different, we both seemed to like some of the same Indie groups, and we both loved Brahms, Buxtehude, and Berlioz. Sometimes I wondered whether our tastes and preferences just happened to run in the same directions, or whether I was intensely influenced by Mike even more than I could have imagined, in matters great and small. But in any case, there was a great deal of commonality. But we both were men of opinion, and both natural leaders, used to having our own views attended to by our friends, classmates, and colleagues, so we had a certain space for contention; and when it came to matters of fact and taste, friendly dispute was one of our preferred manners interacting.

Midmorning passed very pleasantly in this fashion. But much of the time, our shorts were tented, especially when a hand on a muscular hairy thigh would move up and into the loose leg opening of the running shorts of the other. Because we were riding higher than all but semis, no one in cars could see into the cab of the truck; and because we had chosen to avoid the interstates for smaller, two-lane more scenic routes, at least part of the time, essentially no one could see in. So it wasn't long until we had shed our tee shirts, exposing our chests and rock-hard abs; and the passenger, by turns Mike or I, had dropped his shorts too (keeping them around one ankle for a fast recovery), and spread his legs, so that his pole, in all its glory, stood free. And some of the time, the driver had his right hand gently but firmly grasping the other's phallus.

And it was still just midday of the second day of the trip. -- To be continued.


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30 Gay Erotic Stories from Acton

Alice, My Uncle And Me

This is the account of the first of five nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike's fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancé Alice. The room was completely dark. But my senses had never been so alert! I was sitting in an chair upholstered in a rather nubby fabric and with any tiny motion, any slight shifting, my naked arms

Alice, My Uncle And Me, Day 2

This is the account of the second of five nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike’s fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancé Alice. The next morning I awoke with a boner. I was in a puddle of sun on the floor beside Alice’s bed. Someone had thrown a comforter over me, and I had had a deep and restful night. Lying

Alice, My Uncle And Me, Day 3, Part 1

This continues the account of the third of five days and nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike's fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancée Alice. The beginning of their story is told in "Cross-Country with My Uncle," and continued by "Alice, My Uncle, and Me," day 1 and day 2. I woke up in a pool of bright morning

Alice, My Uncle And Me, Day 3, Part 2

This continues the account of the third of five days and nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike's fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancée Alice. The beginning of their story is told in "Cross-Country with My Uncle," and continued by "Alice, My Uncle, and Me," day 1 and day 2. The only way that Mike, as a key

Alice, My Uncle And Me, Day 3: The Bachelor Party, Part 1

This continues the account of the third of five days and nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike's fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancée Alice. The beginning of their story is told in "Cross-Country with My Uncle," and continued by "Alice, My Uncle, and Me," day 1 and day 2, and Day 3, parts 1 and 2. You might think

Alice, My Uncle And Me, Day 3: The Bachelor Party, Part 2

This continues the account of the third of five days and nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike's fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancée Alice. The beginning of their story is told in "Cross-Country with My Uncle," and continued by "Alice, My Uncle, and Me," day 1 and day 2, and Day 3, parts 1 and 2, and "My Uncle's

Alice, My Uncle and Me, Day 4: Jeff tells Mikey his sexual history

This continues the account of the five days and nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike's fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancée Alice. The beginning of their story is told in "Cross-Country with My Uncle," and continued by "Alice, My Uncle, and Me," day 1 and day 2, and Day 3, parts 1 and 2, and "My Uncle's Bachelor

Alice, My Uncle and Me, Day 4: Mike and Jeff's Reunion, Part 1

This continues the account of the five days and nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike's fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancée Alice. The beginning of their story is told in "Cross-Country with My Uncle," and continued by "Alice, My Uncle, and Me," day 1 and day 2, and Day 3, parts 1 and 2, and "My Uncle's Bachelor

Alice, My Uncle and Me, Day 4: Mike and Jeff's Reunion, Part 2

This continues the account of the of five days and nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike's fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancée Alice. The beginning of their story is told in "Cross-Country with My Uncle," and continued by "Alice, My Uncle, and Me," day 1 and day 2, and Day 3, parts 1 and 2, and "My Uncle's Bachelor

Alice, My Uncle and Me, Day 4: Mike and Jeff's Reunion, Part 3

This continues the account of the of five days and nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike's fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancée Alice. The beginning of their story is told in "Cross-Country with My Uncle," and continued by "Alice, My Uncle, and Me," day 1 and day 2, and Day 3, parts 1 and 2, and "My Uncle's Bachelor

Alice, My Uncle and Me: Day 4: Jeff & Mikey

Part 11 This continues the account of the five days and nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike's fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancée Alice. The beginning of their story is told in "Cross-Country with My Uncle," and continued by "Alice, My Uncle, and Me," day 1 and day 2, and Day 3, parts 1 and 2, and "My Uncle's

Alice, My Uncle and Me: Day 4: The Rehearsal Party

Part 12 This continues the account of the five days and nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike's fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancée Alice. The beginning of their story is told in "Cross-Country with My Uncle," and continued by "Alice, My Uncle, and Me," day 1 and day 2, and Day 3, parts 1 and 2, and "My Uncle's

Alice, My Uncle and Me: Day 4: The team shower

Part 10 This continues the account of the five days and nights that studly 18 year old Mikey spends together with Mike, the 24-year old uncle he idolizes, and Mike's fascinating and beautiful 22-year old fiancée Alice. The beginning of their story is told in "Cross-Country with My Uncle," and continued by "Alice, My Uncle, and Me," day 1 and day 2, and Day 3, parts 1 and 2, and "My Uncle's

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 1

My mother married young; I was born when she was only 18. Her younger brother was only 6 when I was born. We lived only three doors away from mom's folks, and my uncle was like a god to me. When I was 9, he was 15, and kayaking in the Pennsylvania mountains, and shooting rats at the Doylestown borough dump. He was the star on his high school baseball team, an enormously talented second

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 2

This wasn't the typical 'motel,' but a 'motor hotel,' and our room was on the third floor, and its easterly windows faced a large pasture; we had not pulled the drapes closed and morning sun filled the room and slanted across the bed--and across me, still safely in the arms of my dear uncle, my face buried in his fuzzy chest. The raking rays brightly picked out his manly, but angelic face, and

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 3

Off a small road in north-central Indiana, we pulled into an obviously little used lane between a wood lot and a pasture. And 500 feet down the lane there was a turnout to a rutted drive into the wood lot, where we turned in. We got from the cooler the last of the egg salad sandwiches and carrot sticks my mom had packed for us, and had a pleasant little picnic parked in the shady grove, with

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 4

We stopped in Galena, Illinois that night; early enough to check into a motel, and quickly getting some directions from the desk clerk, went out for a brisk four-mile run around the pretty old town. We ran in just the same shorts we’d being “wearing” all day. My uncle was a regular jogger, and in great shape, but since I’d been in training for three sports all the year round, I found it was no

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 5

Mike dialed Alice’s number, and getting her machine, left a message. We went out to grab some supper, and, getting back to the room, we stripped down for bed, planning to get up early the next day: We had a long haul, planning to make it all the way to Cheyenne. We crawled into the queen bed, leg to leg, shoulder to shoulder, and divided up this morning’s New York Times. The phone rang. Mike

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 6

The next morning, I awoke spooned with my uncle, my back and rear tight against his firm but plush chest and belly, one of his wonderful arms draped around my waist; and my head lay upon the bicep of his other, folded arm. Leaving his left arm on my stomach where it was, he pulled the other one away, and leaned upon his elbow, and tenderly kissed my ear, and whispered, “Good morning, Little

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 7

We had been in the truck for hours and hours and were ready for some stretching. We stopped at a big rest stop, and after answering the call of nature, Mike went to the back of the truck and rummaged through the cardboard box of miscellaneous stuff he’d cleaned out of his closet back home and grabbed his old football. The three of us (in just our running shorts) ran a few laps around the picnic

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 8

Upstairs, Mike and I climbed into the big king bed in the guest room, frankly exhausted. And moments later, just as Mike was getting ready to click off the bedside lamp, Steve, like us totally nude, entered the room and said, “Guys, can I sleep with you?” With the brightest of smiles we kicked back the covers and reached out and pulled him in. Three things I already knew about Steve, who was

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part 9

As he lay between my legs, Steve and I were still grasping each other’s arms. His arms were extended over his head to meet mine, as I reached down to hold his. He let loose of my left arm and reached over and took Mike’s right hand in his, and squeezed both Mike’s hand and my right arm. He said, “The other thing I want is that I can’t stand to part from you guys yet. I want to stay with you

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part10

Steve had emptied out his backpack and put in a clean tee shirt and shorts, his little toilet kit, and he was ready to roll, almost. He also stuck in a big envelope. Outside, he asked Mike to back the truck up to the garage, and he gestured to a large outbuilding close by. It had a conventional door on one end, and four overhead doors on each long side of the building. Steve and I entered

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part11

“So what about this ranch?” I asked, changing the conversation’s direction. “Well,” Steve said, “I’d better start at the beginning. My mom’s folks own a ranch. Technically, I suppose, you’d have to say they own two ranches, but they are side by side and these days operated as one. They located in Carbon County. Rawlins is the county seat; we went through there about two hours after we

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part12

During a cross-country drive together, Mikey, a studly 18-year old finds himself intimate for the first time with Mike, his namesake 24-year old uncle whom he's idolized all his life. Steve is the 20-year old collegiate gymnast who hitches a ride with them. As I-80 threaded its way through the Rockies and made its descent into the basin of the Great Salt Lake, we were totally engrossed in the

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part13

During a cross-country drive together, Mikey, a studly 18-year old finds himself intimate for the first time with Mike, his namesake 24-year old uncle whom he's idolized all his life. Steve is the 20-year old collegiate gymnast who hitches a ride with them. "So," Steve asked, "Mikey, tell me what do you know about this dude ranch? And what kinda experience do you have with horses?"

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part14

Part 14. During a cross-country drive together, Mikey, a studly 18-year old finds himself intimate for the first time with Mike, his namesake 24-year old uncle whom he's idolized all his life. Steve is the 20-year old collegiate gymnast who hitches a ride with them. We all awoke as the bright, early morning sun stole into the room. Mike and I were in each others' arms, and Steve's front

Cross-Country With My Uncle, Part15 (conclusion & epilogue)

After Mike and Steve had their shower, and they dressed, this time in tee shirts and shorts, it was at last time to part. Steve drew a big envelope from his backpack, and handed it to Mike. "It's a set of photos of me, and a some of me and Mark together. I have your addresses, and as soon as I have developed and printed the pix I shot back home, I'll mail you copies." He and Mike embraced

My Young Uncle Mike and English Crafty Hands, Part 1

This is the account of an incident that occurred to my then 24-year-old uncle, Mike, late in May, in London. Mike and his fiancée, Alice, are principals in the series Alice, My Uncle and Me, and Cross-Country with My Uncle. He got on at the Knightsbridge tube station. He was remarkably good looking, after the English fashion. Trim, close to six feet, probably about 25, with light brown hair

My Young Uncle Mike and English Crafty Hands, Part 2

Piers fixed the right ankle restraint, and then the left, and Mike was fully displayed in all his glory and beauty. In Piers’ earphones, he heard the familiar disembodied voice giving the reading, averaging the current inputs from the spectators moving their dials, but what the voice was saying was, in Piers’ experience, almost never heard: “Nine point five. [pause] Nine point six. [pause].

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