Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Grown Up Boy
Title: How it Started
Summary: While driving home from his deceased Uncle's house a man
recalls when his Uncle first became overtly sexual with him, and made him
his boy.
Keywords: Mb

   This is an ADULTS ONLY work of fiction





   By the time I finished clearing out Uncle Bill's house it was dark, and
I loaded the last of what I wanted to take, into the back of my pickup, and
headed out onto the two lane and south and towards home.  I was surprised
at how little there was.  Most of what we found in the house was old and
worn out, and it was a little sad thinking that what I had in my truck was
all that was left of the man.

   The only thing that really mattered to me were the pictures, and the
thick manila envelope I had found them in lay on the seat beside me.  I
opened the rope tie and randomly pulled one out.

   It was a close up of our two cocks, both erect, the shafts alongside
each other.  His cock big thick, powerful, and leaning slightly over my
small, thin, hairless penis in a manner that almost looked protective.  The
entire length of my baby cock, lay just about alongside the head of his man
cock.  It looked like I was wet with pre cum or cum.  Judging by the size
of my rubbery erection, I couldn't have been more than 3 or 4.  I had no
memory of this, and it still bothered me that there was so much about my
early years with him that I had forgotten.

   There were some things though that I never forgot.

   With the regular hum of the tires on the asphalt, my mind wandered back
to the time we first drove for hours and hours up to the little fishing
camp in Maine.  It was the time he took me to be his boy.

   He started talked about it for months before the actual trip.  We
planned it, bought the gear, crossed off the days on the calendar as they
slowly crept by until the day we would leave.  I talked about it with all
my friends until they didn't want to hear about it anymore.  They all had
dads and regularly did this kind of thing, they had no idea how big a deal
this was to me.

   My friends couldn't possibly know how much I ached for the kind of
relationships they had with their dads.  The closeness, the roughhousing,
the hugs, the piggy back rides, it was all magical to me.  I didn't fully
understand the relationship between men and boys, but I knew that it was
special.  Now I would have two weeks alone with my Uncle Bill and I was
thrilled.

   Before I left my mother had taken me aside and told me that while I was
on this trip, Uncle Bill would talk to me about my body, and about growing
up, and that it was important that I listen to what he had to say.  This
confused me a little bit as I wasn't sure what she meant, but I liked the
sound of it.  It was another mystery to be solved another piece of the
puzzle of male-hood that I would come to understand.

   Oddly enough Uncle Bill seemed kind of nervous.  Looking back, I believe
he had been planning this trip for a great many years, and as it drew
closer he was worried about how I might react to what he had dreamed of for
so many years.

   He had molested me since I was an infant, the pictures on the seat
beside me were clear evidence of that.  But then he stopped around the age
of 5.  Perhaps he was nervous that I might tell someone?  Worried that I
might remember?  I am not sure.

   He had used those early years to satisfy his sexual urges without any
fear of getting caught.  The care of young children requires a fair amount
of nudity, touching, wiping and cuddling and the almost complete submission
of the child to the adult.  Later those years get lost in the fog of youth
and its likely that almost all boys are somehow fondled or explored by at
least someone in those early years.

   But he wanted more

   In those intervening years he was very physical, there was wrestling,
fondling, cuddling, but nothing that couldn't be explained away as simple
affection.  I always seemed to be spilling something on myself and needing
to be changed, or perhaps it was a chance to go swimming where we would
change together.  In those years his cock was a common sight for me, but he
never talked about it, never made me touch or suck it.

   But as I approached my 9th birthday, he started telling me about the
fishing trip we would take to celebrate, and as the day approached, he
hardly seemed to be able to contain himself.  Telling my mother that he
would talk to me about the "birds and the bees" seems now to be the perfect
cover for what he had been planning for so many years.

   I remember lying down in the front seat, my head on his lap, as he drove
along.  I remember looking up at the night sky as we drove on through the
night, listening to the radio and struggling to stay awake.

   The next thing I remember was waking up along in an unfamiliar bed, in
an unfamiliar room.  The air was a little cool, and I cuddled for warmth
under the thick comforter.  I realized that I must have fallen asleep, and
that Uncle Bill must have carried me here.  I realized that I was naked,
and worried that perhaps I had wet myself, as I had done a few times.

   I called out to him "Uncle Bill?"....  he didn't answer., so I got out
of bed, wrapped myself in a sheet, and went to the door.  I followed the
sounds of him out to what was the kitchen, where I saw that he was making
pancakes.

   "Hungry Chris?" he said.  "Starving" I replied, "Where's my clothes?"

   "You don't need any clothes here, because it's just me and you.  When
it's just two boys, or a boy and his daddy, you don't have to wear clothes"

   I considered this for a moment and was a little confused, but he knew
what the word daddy meant to me, and if it was something that daddies did
with boys, then I was in!  Although it had not been overtly sexual in my
short memory, we had been naked together many times and this didn't strike
me as completely unusual, more like I was being let in on one of the many
secrets of male-ness.  The thought of being naked around the cabin with him
thrilled me, and I sat and watched him finish the pancakes, his thick cock
swaying from side to side as he moved about the kitchen.  He saw me staring
and smiled.

   He still seemed a little out of sorts, nervous perhaps about what he
knew was coming, and about how I would react.  I didn't know what was
coming but was a little unsettled by his unease.

   We finished the pancakes, and by then the sun had warmed things up a
bit, and he said that we should go outside and fish.

   "Naked?" I said, "yes of course" he replied, "there is no one out here
for many miles, just you and me, I promise you no on will see your little
penis".

   Wow, he was talking about my penis, this was new to me, nobody ever
talked about penises in my life.  I had always been very curious about
them, but there weren't many penises in my life to learn from.  Was it the
many times I had been exposed to his penis as a toddler?  Did I remember
something?

   My mother had all these art books, some of which had pictures of Greek
and Roman statues of naked men and boys.  I would leaf through the books to
see the naked ones, and while breasts did hold a certain fascination for
me, it was the penises that I really came to see.  They were all
uncircumcised, and the only penises that I had access to were my own and
Uncle Bills, and we were both circumcised.  I came to believe that
uncircumcised penises were the old kind, sort of like what cave men had,
but modern penises were somehow different.

   I remember being completely dumbfounded upon first seeing a little boys
uncircumcised penis, and thinking I had found some sort of missing link.

   Uncle Bill and I went outside and fished by the shore.  I enjoyed the
warm sun on my body and the freedom of being naked.  I was fishing with a
man, like all the other boys got to do with their daddies, and I was in
heaven.

   He caught 3 or 4 Trout, I caught a few Sunfish and he showed me how to
clean them.  This was serious man stuff and again I was in awe of his
ability, and not just a little affected by the nearness of his thick
powerful body.

   After we cleaned the fish, he said we had to go swimming to clean
ourselves off, and we ran off towards the little beach.  The water was
freezing, but I went in anyway jumping and splashing like a colt in the
clear cold water.  Uncle Bill only went in to up to his thighs, his thick
cock hanging down just above the water.  After a while we got into a water
fight, and started roughhousing and wrestling he playfully grabbed at my
tiny cock and kept asking me where did it go?  Did it disappear?

   I looked down and sure enough, the cold water had caused my tiny balls
to retreat back into my body, and the stub of my penis looked like a
turtles head that pulled back into it's shell.  It couldn't have been more
than an inch.  While I looked down he grabbed me, lifted me and carried me
up onto the grass by the pond, all the while tickling and groping me saying
how we had to find my missing penis.

   I though this was the most fun I had ever had in my life.  Being carried
in the arms of a big strong man, naked and defenseless touched a very deep
part of me, and while I didn't quite understand what I was feeling, I knew
that it was special.

   What he did next kind of confused me.  He sat himself down on the grass,
with me on his lap, and held me tightly with one of his arms across my
chest, and with his free hand he, cupped and fondled my little penis and
empty scrotum, warming it and calling it out from its shell.  As my penis
reacted to his touch, he put two fingers around the tiny shaft and started
to stroke it.

   I think he believed that I might try to get away, to run or yell for
help, but that never occurred to me.

   He held me tight across the chest, and stroked my boy cock while
whispering in my ear how much he loved me, all the while kissing and
licking at my neck and ears.  He told how he wished that I could be his
boy. He seemed to be trembling.

   My penis had now recovered somewhat and started to grow beyond the
normal half hard rubbery erection that I was familiar with.  His fingers
soon produced the rhythm of sex, and some ancient primitive part of my
brain woke up for the first time ever and started to respond.  My thin
little boy cock was harder than it had ever been, and actually touched my
belly.

   My mind was too immature to deal with the sensations that I was feeling,
and I felt mostly dizzy, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.
I didn't know what was happening, but I liked it.

   He was good at it, and knew just how to slide the soft skin up and down
the thin shaft of my penis, and I built quickly to a climax.  I started
gasping for air and making little whimpering noises.  Soon everything went
kind of blurry.  My little hips started to move and buck as I sat there on
his lap, the primitive part of my brain was taking control and making what
had to be almost cute childish attempts to hump something.  My little hips
shook and spasmed, my little penis twitched and tried to pump out sperm
that wouldn't exist for several years.

   He held me tight through the spasms whispering in my ear that it was
alright, and that he loved me.  As my body relaxed and sank back against
his, he knew that I was his.

   I didn't realize it at the time, but once the sexual creature in you has
been woken up, it can never go back to sleep.  I was changed at that
moment.

   He hugged me close, and held me tight as we sat there on that beach for
a few minutes.  I could feel both his and my own heartbeats.  I felt safe
and loved.

   After a while he said "turn around Chris", and I extricated my limbs
from his and turned so that I no sat on his lap facing him.  He again
hugged me close, the shafts of out two cocks aligned and pressed together.

   He asked me how I felt, I said "really good, but what was that that just
happened?"

   He relaxed and we both leaned back and separated a little.

   "That was an orgasm" he said.  "It's a special gift that two people can
give to each other" "Your mother asked me to talk to you about your body
and to talk to you about sex, I figured maybe I would just show you"

   After that followed a perfunctory sex lesson which consisted mostly of
me touching the various parts of his cock as he explained things too me.  I
remembered some of it:

   Men had cocks because they had hair and could make sperm, I had a penis
because I couldn't.

   The wet stuff leaking from his cock wasn't pee, it was sperm.

   Sperm was where babies came from.  Women made milk for babies with their
breasts, and men made milk for babies with their balls.  At that point he
told me to hold his balls, one in each hand.  They were magically heavy.

   This last bit actually made surprising sense to me as my mother had a
friend who seemed to make a point of nursing her baby daughter right in
front of me.

   Men helped boys grow up by giving them their sperm, and that if I had a
daddy, he would do that for me if I liked.

   I just nodded.

   With that he picked me up and carried me into the cottage, just like a
little baby, a hand on my bottom, and a hand on my neck.  He walked me into
the bedroom, and laid me down on the bed.

   He stood there staring at me, a big bull male enjoying a look the place
where he would next deposit his cum.  He looked at me with lust in his
eyes, as if I was his property.  I felt odd, but somehow enjoyed that look.
I wanted to be somebody's.

   He leaned down and lay on the bed, his faces a few inches from my cock,
and he casually fondled it.  Soon under his expert hands, I was hard again,
and this time he did something really strange, he bent down and started
licking my penis!.

   It was warm and wet, and I couldn't believe someone would do this. 
That's where I peed!  He sucked me for a few minutes and again my cock was
hard as a nail, bending up towards my belly.  Occasionally he stopped and
licked my tiny wrinkled scrotum, sometimes taking the whole thing in his
mouth.  It was a totally new sensation, and yet oddly familiar.

   Eventually, that same feeling started to build inside me, and again I
whimpered and held his head, bucking my hips against his mouth.  His warm
wet mouth and expert tongue returned to my thin little shaft and soon the
feeling of the skin sliding up and down along my little bone overwhelmed
me, my world convulsed and I had my second orgasm.

   I actually passed out and woke up later cuddled along side him my head
resting on his chest.  When I woke, I lay there for a while and enjoyed the
close feeling of his powerful body beside me, and the slow steady rhythm of
his breathing.  He sensed that I was awake and his hand started to trace
along the contours of thighs, hips and torso.  It felt wonderful to have
his large hands on me.

   I stared down at his thick cock.  It moved gradually side to side,
seeming to grow a little, shift over and then shrink again, resting against
his heavy balls.  It looked like it was alive.  I reached out and gently
touched the side of his cock.  It was warm and smooth, my finger traced
along the shaft to the head, where I took a swipe of the pre-cum that was
starting to flow out from him with my finger, and brought it to my lips.

   I tasted his milk, and he hugged me close as I did.

   I knew what I had to do.  As soon as he had taught me that you could
lick and suck someone's penis, I knew that I was supposed to suck him.  He
was the man, I was the boy, it was the natural order of things that I
should suck him, and that if I did a good job, he would love me and help me
become a man.

   He knew what I was thinking and said "it's OK Chris"

   I shimmied down the bed so that my face was even with his massive cock,
and I stroked and touched it.  He let me explore it slowly, to learn all
its parts.  At first it was soft, and as I explored him, he grew hard.  The
process seemed magical to me.  I knew I was doing it right, I knew I was
making him happy.  I was a good boy for him.

   He told me so.

   I leaned in and stuck my tongue out and just barely made contact with
the tip of his cock, I licked a little and as I drew away for a moment
there was a thin bridge of sticky pre-cum that connected us.  I giggled
when it broke.  Uncle Bill patted me on the head in a reassuring manner,
but also one that transmitted the idea that I was to get on with sucking
his cock.  He was engorged now, and needed relief.  I was the relief he had
been waiting for so many years, and now was the time.

   I grasped his cock with my two hands and aimed the head of his cock at
me, and started to lick.  I tried to imitate what he had shown me, but he
was very big and I was clumsy.  A few times he had to remind me about my
teeth.

   I wasn't doing it right, I had the incorrect rhythm, and he had to place
his hands on the side of my head, and move my head up and down in his
rhythm to show me the way to please him.  I understood almost right away
when I finally got it right.  The rhythm of sex, once learned, becomes
second nature, even for a little boy.

   With the correct rhythm, I could now see how I was affecting him, I
could see him relax, and then sense the tension slowly building in him. 
Oddly enough I felt a sense of control with him in my mouth.  He was big
and strong and powerful, but I could make him react like this, and that
gave me a sense of power over him.  I guess this is something all whores
and little boys learn or at least rationalize after a while.

   It didn't take long, he had waited all these years.  I could sense the
bull animal in him take over.  After a while I wasn't Chris his little
nephew, but simply a warm wet hole into which he would cum.  He grabbed my
head and held me tight, he thrust a few times deep into my throat, scaring
me, and at the same time tickling my nose with his scratchy pubic hairs.

   He started to moan, and he doubled the stroke, his own hips thrusting up
into my face.  I was really scared now to see this side of him, and I
wanted it to end, as my jaw was sore.  It did end as he made one more
sustained thrust up at me and bellowed like the bull male that he was, I
felt his cock spasm in my mouth and his warm wet cum spurt into me.

   He spurted again and again, and I started to panic, but Uncle Bill
reminded me to swallow and as I did, I regained my composure.  The spasms
of his cock seemed to run through his whole body, and slowly they lessened
and the spurts of cum grew less.  He continued spurting though for well
over a minute.

   As he recovered, he began to stroke my hair, and told me what a good boy
I was, and how much he loved me.  He told me that I was his boy now, and
that he would be my daddy.

   He pulled me up and on to him, my face on his chest, our cocks together.
I rested my head on him, and the sound of his heartbeat, and his warm hands
cupping my bottom soon had me fast asleep.

   All this I remembered as I drove along the highway through that dark
night.  The bright lights of a truck suddenly shined in my eyes, and as his
air horn sounded I snapped out of my reverie, and pulled back into my own
lane.

   My crotch was wet as if I had had a wet dream, but I had been awake.  I
wondered how long I might have fallen asleep at the wheel for, a few hours,
or a few moments?

   I pulled out that picture, the one of our two cocks together.  As I
looked at it I smiled and after a few moments, I placed it into my shirt
pocket.

   There was a lot more that happened during that week we spent at the
little fishing cottage in Maine, and indeed in the years that followed, but
that's another story.