Gay Erotic Stories

You'd think nothing ever happens in the Mississippi woods. I used to think that, too, until last summer. My nephew, John Michael, lives less than a mile from us. "On the next hill," as we usually say. He's my younger brother's oldest, an eighteen year old with a smile to die for. He used to be really blond, until he turned about fourteen, then his hair began darkening a little and is now a beautiful ash blond color. His skin is creamy white, his complexion clear as the day he was born. His eyes are that kind of dark green that can turn one color one minute, another the next. Big, beautiful eyes. His body is long, slender, and willowy. And he has the most beautiful rear end I've ever seen on a young boy. It's not one of those Tom of Finland overdrawn butts that protrude half a foot behind a stud's body. No, this lovely behind is perfectly formed, rounded but not too pronounced, rides fairly high but slopes down to gorgeous thighs. Even in winter when he's wearing camos, his butt is a thing of beauty. During the winter he likes to lie in front of the fireplace, and I find myself gazing at his lovely cheeks. A classic boy's face with the sweetest disposition I've ever encountered in a teenage boy make him the perfect young man to drool over. And I do! I have this little habit of walking in the woods, usually to sneak away and have a cigarette or two. There have been times in the spring, summer, or early fall when I've taken my clothes off and indulged myself in foolish fantasies of John Michael and fantasy boys from the Internet. One afternoon in late spring I had remembered to take a little tube of lotion with me. I was really planning ahead this time! After a couple of cigarettes, I found one of my favorite fallen trees. It's the kind of big, wide tree that is sort of flat on one side, and that's the side that landed facing up. It makes a great outdoors bed to lie on and masturbate to my heart's content. I was doing just that on this particular afternoon when I noticed, through the budding trees and brush, John Michael's fair head among the foliage. Jesus! I thought. Busted by my own nephew! I immediately pulled my cargo shorts up and sat up. He slowly withdrew from the thicket and I heard him walking away. Oh, damn, I thought, where's this going to lead? Later that evening, my wife informed me that she had invited my brother and his family for dinner the following night. This is something we do routinely, living so close by, and we always enjoy evenings filled with good food and laughter. But I supposed I looked as if my wife had told me we would have to entertain Osama Bin Laden or Saddam Hussein. "What's wrong? You have something to do tomorrow night?" she asked me. "Uh, no. I was thinking of something else," I lamely replied. I'm not sure that she believed me, but it seemed to do for the moment. God, how do these things happen? What's it going to feel like having dinner with your brother and his family, including your nephew who has just witnessed your perverted woodland masturbatory shenanigans. Goddamit! I thought. This is just shitty. The next day I had work to do around the house and didn't go into the office. When you own your own business you can usually set your own hours, especially when you have someone capable to run the damn thing. I was lucky, since Ben Harding was actually more than capable. The day dragged on in some ways, then in others it zipped by. I just wished for it to be over! The smells of a beef roast and hot rolls filled the house, and finally I heard my brother's brood coming up the hill. They usually walked over since it wasn't that far. I looked out our bedroom window and saw John Michael bringing up the rear. Oh, God, I thought, he doesn't want to face me either! But then, he didn't look too downcast or worried. I almost never answer the door, and they never knock. They came straggling into the front hall, kicking off their shoes as they came in. I made a joke with John Michael's little brother, another little towhead who is going to be a gorgeous boy too. I averted my eyes when John Michael walked in. As he passed me I didn't say a word. He hit me in the stomach with the back of his hand and said, "OK, you gonna speak or not?" "No, don't think I will," I said. "You're on your own tonight." I tried to be witty, but I knew I was failing miserably. "Oh, great," he replied. "Does that mean I have to do everything myself?" And then his big famous grin that lights up the room spread across his lovely face. Good God! What does he mean by that? Dinner was torture. He sat right next to me around the corner of the table and did his usual routine of bumping my foot with his during the meal. I tried to ignore it, but his foot was insistent. After the meal we ordered a pay movie on satellite and sat and watched. Thank goodness I didn't have to say much. I caught John Michael looking at me a few times, but never looked back. When it was over, my brother announced it was almost bedtime for his bunch and they got up to leave. I walked to the kitchen and dragged another beer out of the refrigerator. John Michael apparently followed me in and was standing by the open fridge door. When I closed the door, he said, "Hey, I don't want my uncle to ignore me the rest of my life, OK?" He said it with such a serious face I knew he wasn't kidding. "I know, but put yourself in my place, Bubba." That was our pet name we affectionately called him. Typical Mississippi style. "Uncle Dan," he said quietly in his Mississippi drawl, "No one is ever gonna know." "OK," I lamely told him. And with that little interchange, they left for the evening. I couldn't sleep much that night. I was tired all the next day, a Saturday. It was one of those warm spring days, just beautiful. My wife got it in her head to invite her sister-in-law and all the kids on a mall expedition in town. My brother, an officer in a Navy Reserve unit, had his weekend full. I assumed ALL the kids were going, so I opted to stay home and go skinny-dipping in the pool. I had no sooner taken my first few laps and hopped up on the edge of the pool for a cigarette, than John Michael appeared on the edge of the deck. I don't smoke in front of my family and had always assumed they didn't know and would never catch me. Here I was with a cigarette in hand and exhaling a great cloud of smoke. John Michael walked over and I slid my naked body into the pool. "Well," I said. "You should be a private detective, John Michael." "What's that supposed to mean?" He actually looked a bit mystified. "You've caught me smoking," I whined. "Uncle Dan, I know you smoke. I think everybody does, too. We just don't talk about it." He was serious, I could tell. "OK, Bubba. Now you know. You seem to know a lot about me now," I said as I turned away. He ignored the last remark and said, "Hey, can I get in too?" "Sure. It feels great." I decided to let him make up his own mind about a bathing suit. I turned slightly to see him removing his clothes with no shame whatsoever, so he obviously made his own decision. A few seconds later his nude body sailed through the air and landed close by, splashing my cigarette and me. "You turkey," I said, putting the drowned cigarette in my makeshift beer bottle ashtray. He just grinned and splashed me even more. I pretended to come after him and he backpedaled in the water to get away. We splashed and swam for a few minutes, then I wanted another beer. I realized I would have to get out and go inside, giving him a look at my body. Oh, well, I thought. He's seen me masturbating, so what the hell? I climbed out, retrieved a beer and came back out. Did I just see him looking at me? I slid into the water, lit another cigarette, and hung onto the side of the pool. Without a sound he appeared by my side. I gave him a sidelong glance and said, "OK, let me enjoy this one, huh?" "I'm not going to splash you, so don't worry, you big weenie." He's always been free and easy with me like that, calling me names and kidding me. "Gee, thanks," I said. There was a long pause, then he said, very quietly, "Uncle Dan...?" His voice trailed off a bit. "Yeah?" I looked at him briefly to see how this was going. His head was down, and he seemed to be staring at nothing in particular. "Oh, I dunno..." he trailed off, turning his head away. "Look, about your seeing me in the woods... well, John Michael..." I hemmed and hawed and realized I wasn't handling this well. "I really don't care about that, Uncle Dan." He was now looking at me. Right at me! His stare held me, so I just looked right back at him. "It, it's..." He hesitated. "Just say what you want to say, Bubba. I'm your uncle, you're my favorite nephew." He smiled and said, "Yeah, yeah, I know. You only have two!" We loosened up and both laughed, then he moved a little closer. Warning bells started going off. What's up with this? His smooth teenage leg was grazing my hairy thigh. "Uncle Dan, can I ask you some stuff?" "Sure, Bubba. You can ask me anything." "Daddy doesn't, well, I can't talk to him much about stuff." He was furiously frowning and looked serious as hell. I replied, "Well, he's gone a lot, for one thing. If he were home he'd talk to you, wouldn't he?" I probably knew better than this, since my brother could be laughing and cutting up one minute, but stony and silent the next. And he was a bit heavy handed with his children. A real taskmaster. "No, it's not like that, really." John Michael looked at me then with the most amazing expression. It looked like trust, hope, and a certain expectancy all rolled up into one look. "I don't think I could even talk to him about some stuff." "What makes you think you can talk to me, then? We're brothers, you know." I tried to smile. He wasn't having any of it. "No, you're two different people, the two of you. I know you." He grinned a wicked grin, and then said, "Especially now." I knew what he meant. The little devil. "OK, what do you want to ask me or tell me? My ears are yours now." "I'm gay." The world went silent. Not a tree rustled, no breath of air, no bird sounds, nothing. We were looking at each other, but I wasn't sure we were seeing each other. "Oh, my God, John Michael..." I began. "You think I'm shit now, don't you?" He started to turn away. I grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back, but he got away from me. I needed to stop him cold. I almost screamed, "It doesn't make any difference to me, boy. I don't give a damn. I'm just worried about YOU!" He turned and looked. Tears were beginning to stream down his face. I said, "You know how you said I didn't have to worry about anything...no one would ever know? Huh? Well, same holds true for you too, Bubba. I'm still your uncle, your Uncle Dan. I love you." I didn't know what else to say. It may have been stupid, but it was all I could think of. He looked at me and slowly, at first, moved toward me. Then faster, then he was moving as fast as the water would let him, right into my arms. I threw my arms around him and pulled him tight. The teenage boy moans subsided after a minute or two, and all of a sudden I realized we were completely nude, hugging each other and holding each other. And we both had erections. It just happened. In the middle of being uncle and nephew our bodies responded to each other and we got hard. GEEZ! "Oh, man," he said in a little voice. Then he began moving against me. Just a little at first, nothing more than a slight movement. I tried to move away. "No, Uncle Dan...don't leave me!" I looked down into his face and saw raw emotion, fear, and still that trust, the fate of a little boy in my hands. What can I do? I thought. If I tell him no right now I'd feel like I was abandoning him to his own little hell. If I stay with him here like this, I'd feel like I was taking advantage of him. Which is it? What's true? Goddamit! I thought, this is a no-win situation. "I love you!" he almost whispered. "I love you, too, Bubba," I said. "But I'm not sure if this is right, you know?" He shook his head, looked at me, and said, "It can't be wrong. It just can't. If you love me, I love you, then... well?" "Oh, God, John Michael, you have no idea..." "Please, please?" I couldn't resist that. I put my head down next to his, felt his penis rubbing my thigh as we hugged again. His hand came to me, slowly, almost teasingly, but I knew better. He touched me, lightly, but it still felt electric, momentous. I only touched the small of his back. His movements became more and more insistent, until I realized he had backed me up into the corner of the pool near the steps. I slowly began a descent backwards, with my behind ending on one of the middle steps. He lowered himself onto me, never letting go of my dick. He began stroking it again. I moved my hands down to his behind and toyed with his crack, just idly playing there, and yet making my statement that I wanted to touch him. He moved up a bit and our dicks were rubbing together, stabbing at each other. His hips began moving back and forth, faster and faster, until his head came up in a jerking motion, his eyes closed, and I knew he had finished. In that moment, that awful, terrible, lust-filled moment, I realized nothing would ever be the same between us. No longer just uncle and nephew: now we were lovers, almost. Or were we? Just what WERE we? His head relaxed, he eased down, letting his body touch mine again. I must have had some crazy kind of look on my face, because he looked at me a moment then smiled his ice-melting smile and put his head down next to mine, nuzzling my neck. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my..." I began. "Uncle Dan?" "What, boy?" "Is it always like that?" "Is what always like that?" I asked him. "Sex." "Nope. It's always different. Every time." "Wow. I can't wait till next time." "Oh, my God. Oh, my..." "Just shut up, will you?" he said, looked at me and laughed.