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My Favourite Uncle

By EY Bear

submitted January 13, 2005

Categories: Family Fun

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Uncle Pat was always . He was Dad's youngest brother out of four. Dad was number two, and the eldest three were like my grandmother, slight, fair and sort of sandy. Uncle Pat was quite different, tall, very dark and heavily built, he took after my Grandfather, he was broad too, and an imposing man. The elder three were very bright, academic and with professional jobs, one a dentist, one a lawyer and dad was some sort of government scientist. Uncle Pat was a cop, and scared the shit out of all the local kids, except me. I was his favourite, and he was mine. I was, of course, careful not to get on the wrong side of him, but he seemed easy to please as long as i was polite and appreciative. I early learned that our times together were "time out" and didn't go home telling tales. Mind you, I didn't want to, our times together were always fun, and I never wanted them to stop.

He would take me to the fair or for a ride on his motorbike (me hanging on for dear life!). He would never say No, it's too dangerous, but let me find my own boundaries. I rapidly learned that if he disapproved, then I backed down. Funnily he was always right. There were other treats too, not just sweets or extra pocket money, but outings, and he could even do tricks, and I never forgot the day he produced a live rabbit from his pocket! The older three brothers but not Uncle pat. He said he valued his freedom, to play golf, go to bars, have good holidays and live in peace, with no-one to tell him what to do. My Mother said it was because he was too selfish, but I idolised him. Tall strong hairy, with a dark bristley moustache, he was my ideal of a Man's man.

When I was little, I used to snuggle up on his lap, and rest my head against his hairy chest, and rub against it...it made me feel good, I don't know why. Sometimes when I did this, I could feel something hard in his trousers, and when I asked, he said it was his other truncheon, but he wouldn't let me see it. I had seen his main truncheon any number of times, but of course I wanted to see the other one, but NO.

Sometimes I was allowed to check his pockets for spare change which I could keep; one occasion when I felt, there was no bottom to his pocket, and I could feel his cock and balls. He never said anything and I kept my hand there a little longer, moving around, supposedly looking for change.

My work at school was okay, not good, but not bad, middle of the road I guess, and when I came home from school one day, Uncle Pat was with my parents, and they were suggesting that I should spend less time with Uncle Pat, and more time at my studies. I immediately appealed to Uncle Pat, but he supported my parents. "If your grades are poor because of me, then I would never forgive myself; if you want to spend time with me, you'll have to earn it by better grades." Needless to say, I applied myself, and my grades improved enormously. This caused some aggravation at home...I would do it for Uncle Pat, but not for them. At least the grades improved!

I wasn't to know at the time, but this was to stand me in good stead: some time later, my Father was posted abroad and the question was, what to do with me. maybe my mother could stay at home, and dad go alone, or I could go and stay with one of my other uncles, whose wife could be some sort of mother to me while they were away. They all lived a long distance away, so it would mean changing schools, starting again in a strange city, knowing no-one and with no friends, so I begged to stay, and enlisted Uncle Pat so I could stay with him. He was hesitant, but agreed to speak to Mum and dad, and to my surprise, they eventually agreed, the best point being that my grades had improved so much under his influence.

My efforts, and perhaps Uncle Pat's somehow worked, and eventually they left on a Friday. I guess I should have been upset at them going, but I was too excited at going to live with Uncle Pat, and although he didn't know, I had plans for our time together, which i hoped would mean seeing more of Uncle Pat than just his hairy chest.

After seeing them off, we went back to my new home, and sat in the kitchen together while Uncle Pat made tea. "We'd better have some house rules, as things are different now." he said, and my heart sank as I thought that my fun uncle had changed. "What rules" I asked. "Well, first of all, I am not a servant for you, to pick up after you like your Mum does. You have to take some responsibility for your own life. Secondly, you must remember that I'm a cop. You may choose to do stupid things with your mates, and if you fuck up, that's your lookout. It's your life. But think whether I would be affected if you were found out. Think whether you would want me to know even. Think if it would reflect badly on me as a cop."

I tried to reassure him, but he continued. "You have to do even better at school. Sure, you've improved, but the reason you got to live here with me is that you are doing well. Now you have to do better! But remember this, there’s a saying that what goes on tour stays on tour, and our time together is like a tour, just you and me, and we are going to have good times together. I won't tell your Mum and dad unless you want me to, and the same goes for you. It's just the two of us together, and by the way, no locked doors. OK?" Okay I said and he gave me a big bear hug, and I could feel the bristles of his moustache tickling my scalp.

Time for a bath, up you go, and i went up to the bathroom, and first locked the door, then remembered and unlocked it. I had a good long soak, and really enjoyed not being chased out by my Mum. After a while Uncle Pat came up and asked if I was done. He checked my hands and nails, and approved, and then asked if I cleaned my foreskin regularly. I said no, and he said he would show me, and very gently pulled my foreskin down until my cockhead was fully showing.

After all my plans to get a lot closer to Uncle Pat, this was unexpected, and I was rock hard. Don't worry boy he said, we are on tour, and I won't tell your dad, and he showed me how to keep my bell end clean, and as he did so, the rough skin on his thumb scratched on the sensitive area just under my cock head, I gasped and shot my load, all over his hand and arm. "I don't think we had better tell your dad about this" he said. I was so relieved that I didn't notice him licking all the cum off his arm, but later, running over the evening in my mind I remembered, and it filled my imagination as I jerked myself off before falling asleep.


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