Gay Erotic Stories

Skiing With An Uncle, Part II "You've been awfully quiet," Uncle Stan said. "Does that mean you're upset over what I did?" "I didn't expect you to turn out to be gay," I said. "You mean you didn't expect me to turn out to be like you?" he went on. "Okay. Now that you know we're birds of a feather, do we stop being friends?" "No. "I would think we'd become closer now that we share the same secret. It would be a lot easier on both of us if we started being honest with each other." "How do we do that?" I asked. "Just by talking. And spending more time together." "Does that include time in bed?" "No, I was thinking of more skiing trips." "I didn't ski this time, remember?" "Okay, we'll go sailing together." "I get seasick." "Looks like I'm going to have trouble with you, doesn't it?" I didn't want to go sailing with him or anywhere else. I wanted him to leave me alone. He did just that, and I was miserable. He was the only other gay guy I knew. The next time he telephoned, I apologized for my coldness toward him, and asked if we could go out somewhere together. "Want to go to the club and workout?" he asked. The "club" was a gay bathhouse in Venice, another building with mirrored rooms for sex. An introduction to a tall good looking redhead was supposed to please me, but I didn't know what to say to the guy and Uncle Stan got flustered. "Okay then, you're on your own," he said, and went looking for a steam room. The closet was a lonely place for me. Being barely able to admit that I was gay wasn't much better. My guess was that my uncle understood all this and set me down in a place where I could be completely open and honest. The anticipation of meeting someone very exciting and sexy heightened my senses, but I was still nervous about rushing into things. A very dark room seemed the best place for me, and as I slipped in a hand reached out and touched my chest. I stood motionless for a moment, then moved into the arms of a tall young man who drew me in a tight embrace. When we pulled apart he removed my towel from my middle and I reciprocated. "Over here," he whispered, taking my hand, and we tumbled onto a bare mattress. We lay there in each other's arms a long time. Then he asked my name, where I was from, and if this was my first time. "You're trembling," he whispered. I shook like a leaf, he meant, but I still gloated over a hard-bodied, sweet smelling young stranger who wanted me. Another body slid into the dark room---my uncle's. Suddenly, the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth about me was revealed to him. He sat motionless until my lover finished with me and departed. Then he stretched out beside me and took me into his arms. He seemed to me then to be a reward for what I had to put up with everywhere else. I didn't need an attractive facade around him, I just had to be myself and go along with his plans for sexual adventures.