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Subject: Little Me – Ch. 15 Little Me by RJ The core of this fiction involves the sexual relationship between an adult and a minor — specifically an uncle and his young nephew. Unfortunately, this is the FINAL chapter of this series. Thank you to those of you who have been following this series since the very beginning, and a special thanks to a select few who have consistently inspired me to keep this story going. It’s been a good run! If you have any questions or comments about this piece, want to know about any of my other works, or just want to reach out, please don’t hesitate to email me. If you would like to be added to a mailing list for my other stories and receive emails about any updates, let me know. A list of my works, including links and descriptions, can be found here: https://bit.ly/2S5IYDI Please also consider donating to Nifty if you fty/donate.html. Any amount helps! ~ CHAPTER 15 ~ Honeymoon suite. The heart-shaped tub is filled with suds that smell like lavender. Eli’s skin smells of it. Tastes of it. He rests on top of me as we lie in the center of the bed, panting in my ear. Lavender. He feels good inside. Tight, warm, snug, alive. Both familiar and foreign. Something’s off. I know Eli’s weight, and I know his hole. I can recognize both easily. But there’s another presence, something heavier between my legs. Wes. Wes’s hand slides up my nephew’s bare back and grips his shoulder. I know it’s him without even seeing his face. I recognize the wedding band. He groans. He groans and swears, and when I look over Eli’s shoulder, I see him. My brother. His eyes roll back, mouth hanging open, hips rocking back and forth. That’s why it feels so strange. We’re both inside him. Both. My cock throbs. This is crazy. Where am I? I feel close, but distant at the same time. I’m only half in my own body, only partly attuned to my own senses. Then, Wes opens his eyes. Looks right at me. Smiles. His lips move but I can’t hear what he’s saying. All I hear is Eli’s panting, soft and rhythmic. My name? Is he saying my name? “Uncle Leooo!” I feel someone shaking me awake, and slowly I emerge from the dream, groaning and blinking the sleep out of my eyes. “Huh?” I mumble, confused for a moment. Then, I sigh heavily. Consciousness. It was just another dream — again. “Jesus, wake the fuck up,” he says with a laugh. I sigh heavily. “The hell do you want?” I murmur, running both palms over my face. I still feel like I’m half-asleep, bearing all the weight that comes with that sensation. “I said Dad wants to know when we’re coming,” he repeats with a grin, and I notice he’s holding something out to me: a phone. I take it curiously before bringing the receiver to my ear. “‘Lo?” “Wakey wakey, baby brother,” Wes’s voice says. I hear him chuckle. “What are you still doing asleep?” “What time is it?” “Almost eleven,” Wes says, and I sigh. Goddamn. I never sleep in this late. “Jesus.” “Guess I wore you out last night, huh?” Eli whispers teasingly, giving me that signature shit-eating grin of his. In response, I just push him over, causing him to fall back on the bed with a laugh. “Well, can you guys get here soon?” Wes asks. “Mom and Dad are gonna be here in an hour and I need reinforcements.” “Um…” I glance at Eli, who just shrugs. “Yeah, we can be there soon,” I say, though I have no real desire to be quick about it. “Great. See you soon. And pick up some wine or something if you can.” I shut Eli’s cell phone closed and toss it back to him with a sigh. “Apparently we’re supposed to be there in an hour,” I tell my nephew, who’s lounging comfortably across from me, still completely naked. He smiles. “And yet, you haven’t moved an inch.” “I’ll move when I wanna move,” I say groggily, running my hands down my bare torso lightly. I’m not wearing anything either. After we got undressed last night, we saw no reason to put clothes back on. Am I hard, though? I reach under the sheets covering my waist and feel my morning wood, proud and attentive. “Well, make it soon,” he says, sitting up on his knees. “Today’s important.” I raise my eyebrows. “It is?” I ask. It’s just Wes’s birthday party. His actual birthday has already passed, but the family (my parents included) could only all get together on the nearest Saturday, and Wes was happy to postpone celebrations for two days — not that his birthday is something he ever really cared about anyway. That’s something we have in common. “Mhm,” Eli says with a nod. “And in the spirit of that, I got you something.” I glance at Eli with an amused expression as he hops off of my bed. “You got me something?” I ask, watching his tall form bending over to rummage through his backpack. “Yep.” Then he pauses, glancing back at me. “You don’t mind if I get a little cushy on you for a second, do you?” I chuckle softly, licking my bottom lip. “I don’t mind.” “Good, ’cause I was gonna do it anyway,” he says with a cheeky smile before standing up and holding something behind his back. “Alright. Sit up and don’t look.” I laugh a little before doing as he asks, slowly raising myself up in bed and shutting my eyes. “You’re not gonna hurt me, are you?” I ask, leaning back against the headboard. “Maybe in a sexy way,” Eli teases. I feel him shift onto the bed, getting in front of me. He straddles my lap with a sigh, and my hands automatically slide up from his peach-fuzzed calves, over his still-smooth thighs, to his firm hips. I can sense him leaning into me, and I tilt my face up just a touch so that his lips are welcomed against mine. We share a soft kiss, both of us feeling tender and affectionate still from that passionate bit of late-night lovemaking we shared nearly ten hours ago. When he breaks the kiss, I feel him drape something across the back of my neck before he fastens it. It feels cool to the touch — probably metallic. After he finishes securing what is surely a necklace around me, he gives me another kiss and then whispers, “Happy anniversary.” I open my eyes and look down, tugging at the piece of jewelry he put around my neck. I smile slightly at the simple silver chain reflecting the sunlight that’s streaming in through the window behind us. “Anniversary?” I ask, confused but pleased. “Yeah,” he says, sliding his hands onto my shoulders. “I’m a couple days late, but…” He smiles widely. “It’s the anniversary of when you finally came back to me.” I laugh softly. So *that’s* what this is about: when I got out of jail, when I came back to Massachusetts and was reunited with my nephew. It’s almost hard to believe that that was about four years ago. Four perfect years, and now Eli is a ripe fifteen. My, how much this kid has grown. His voice has deepened, his hair has gotten shorter, lean muscles have formed, and he’s had an incredible growth spurt — almost my height now. He’s become a cocky little fucker over the years too, and rightly so. Although his face is still somewhat boyish (he hasn’t even sprouted facial hair yet), he’s clearly in his teen-prime, and he knows it. He even ditched the glasses and almost exclusively wears contacts (even though I thought his round spectacles were irresistibly cute) because he feels it makes him look more “grown-up.” I don’t blame him, though. He’s turned into quite the fucking stud. And with that, he’s become quite the romancer, too, following my lead to express affection through actions. Eli’s always been a loving sort of kid, but as he’s matured, he’s found ways to ensure my love for him never wavers. He’s incredibly astute, which helps him pick out the perfect gifts for me. They’re always small things, like replacing my wallet when he noticed I needed a new one, or sneaking a bar of my favorite, hard-to-find chocolate into my jacket when I’m not looking only to discover later. He knows I appreciate those small gestures the most — which is why this necklace is so perfect. “Sneaky little devil,” I mutter, and he just grins. He’s expressed interest in jewelry lately, and even took me out window shopping with him to get my opinion on what looked good. Originally, I thought he was picking something out for himself. But now I realize he was just being sly. He wanted to see what *I* would wear. “What can I say?” he asks, smiling innocently. “Nothing,” I tell him. “Just kiss me.” He grins widely before wrapping his arms around my neck and planting a firm kiss on my lips. I let my hands slide around him more, running up and down his smooth back, my fingers tracing his spine. He hums softly against my lips before pushing his tongue forward, asking to be let in. I grant him entry, accepting his soft, skilled tongue with relish, feeling my whole body both relax and ignite simultaneously. Then, he pulls away with a happy grin on his face. “I wanna make you breakfast,” he says softly, bringing his fingers up to my neck and lightly dancing them across my skin, “but I also wanna fuck again.” I laugh. “We don’t have all day, kid,” I remind him. He rolls his eyes fondly. “Fiiine,” he whines, pecking my lips again before spritely hopping off my lap. He decides to stay naked, knowing I’ll be soaking in the sight of him as if it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him nude. I just smirk, licking my lips as I slide out of bed and follow him to the kitchen. The lake house is our favorite place to be, our own private lover’s retreat. We can fuck where we want, kiss where we want, proudly profess our love for each other whenever and however we desire… Eli spends nearly every weekend here with me — often under the guise of hanging out with friends so that his parents don’t get *too* suspicious. If he sleeps over during the non-winter seasons, it’s almost guaranteed that we’ll make breakfast naked. Eli makes a killer omelet, so that’s typically his go-to. I take a seat at the island and watch him rummage through the fridge for all the fixings, my eyes focused on that perfect little ass of his — an ass I just pumped full of cum last night. I find my brain drifting enough to miss whatever Eli just said, and he turns around and snaps his fingers at me. “Earth to Leo.” “Huh?” I ask, blinking and looking up at his grinning face. He just looks amused. “Were you staring at my ass?” “No,” I say, smirking. “Liar,” he murmurs, smiling. “I was asking how many eggs you wanted.” “Three, please.” “Comin’ up, old man,” he teases, grabbing a pan from the cabinet and starting to heat up the stove. “So, uh… I want to ask you about something…” He glances at me, as if I’m supposed to pick up on the inference or something. “What?” “My parents.” I raise my eyebrows. “What about them?” Eli bites his lip slightly, scratching his chest. “I’m… I’ve been thinking about coming out to them.” I’m surprised. Never once has Eli ever brought up the idea of coming out to his parents (or anyone, for that matter) before. Part of me wonders how they would respond. His mother would no doubt be supportive, but Wes? I’m sure he’d come around to the idea well enough, but his initial reaction is harder to predict. He’s one of those parents that assumes his son will grow up to marry a woman, as made evident by all his “Just wait ’til you get a wife” comments. All in all, though, Eli’s relationship with his father has improved drastically ever since Wes gifted his boy those magazines. They’d often talk about them, discuss their favorite issues, go back and forth about what specific details they liked on each page. It was nothing *terribly* graphic, but enough for them to chuckle through the taboo. This was the common ground they needed to start… well, talking. Porn allowed their dialogue to expand into normal subjects, and it got to the point where Wes confided in his son that he didn’t know what he wanted to do career-wise. Eli was the one who suggested he become a stay-at-home dad. He’s a smart kid, and a damn good listener when he wants to be, and he’s picked up on his mother’s and Ruth’s conversations about Tanya wanting to go back to work again. As it turns out, taking Eli’s little suggestion to heart was the best decision he could have made for his marriage. Tanya’s never been happier. I wonder what he’ll say to his parents, though. With the discussions we’ve had, even Eli doesn’t seem to know what he identifies as. “Gay” seems to be the simplest choice, but he still loves his porn, no matter what gender is featured. He just enjoys sex — though I suppose having sex and being incredibly fascinated by it are two very different things. “What are you gonna tell ’em?” I ask. “I don’t know,” he says, which makes me laugh. “Gay?” “That fits,” I tease. He glances back at me. “You think it’s a good or bad idea?” “I can’t tell you what to do, kid,” I say. He sets the eggs aside, coming over to me. “I *want* you to tell me what to do,” he says back, spreading my thighs apart so he can stand between them. I laugh slightly, holding onto his hips as he puts his hands on my chest. “Trust your gut.” “I hate when you tell me that,” he mutters, and I grin as I let a hand slide around to cup his ass. “Has it failed you before?” “Whatever,” he mumbles, grinning slightly. I take that as a “yes” and smile back, patting his butt as he slings his arms over my shoulders. “If it makes you feel any better, I can’t imagine they wouldn’t be supportive,” I assure him. “Really?” I just nod. “Really really.” He seems to ponder this for a moment, nodding to himself. Then he hits me with a more devilish smirk. “Should I tell them I have a boyfriend?” he asks slyly. I roll my eyes. “Shut it, boy.” “What? It’s not like it’s a lie,” he says, climbing into my lap now. “Who’re you gonna say it is, then?” I ask, amused. “That kid on your soccer team?” “Carson?” He snorts before putting on his most playfully-flirty voice. “Why would I want him when I have you?” I can’t help but laugh, slapping his ass in response. “Don’t get sassy.” “I’m not,” he says, leaning in close. “I wuv you, Unca Weo.” “Stop,” I say immediately, grunting and closing my eyes. He knows what that baby voice of his does to me. I don’t know why I find it so sexy, but Jesus… He just chuckles and kisses my cheek. “Fine,” he says, about to slide off my lap and head back to the stove to resume cooking breakfast. He looks at me curiously when I stop him, though. “Wait. Question for ya,” I say, clearing my throat as I keep him in my lap. “Yeah?” “Out of curiosity… You ever… think about your dad the way you think about me?” I ask. That dream is still on my mind — and it sure as hell hasn’t been the first. They’re a bit incessant, those sex dreams. I never ask for them, and I don’t know why they come, but it sure does make me curious about Eli’s perspective. I wonder if he ever has dreams about his father. Eli looks at me wide-eyed before laughing. “Ew. No.” I snort. “Why ew?” “He’s just so… I don’t know. I don’t really look at him like that.” “Huh,” I say, lost in thought about my dream. That’s not the first time I’ve had a dream like that. Probably won’t be the last. “Why?” I shrug. “Just curious,” I say. “You’re sleeping with your uncle. You being interested in a different family member wouldn’t exactly be surprising.” “Are *you* interested in Dad?” I squint, looking affronted for a moment before Eli laughs. “Exactly,” he says, stroking my hair a bit. “Don’t get me wrong, though. I like dads. Just not my dad. Not like that, at least.” “Fair,” I say, smiling. “I was just curious, is all.” He looks at me for a long while, a slight grin on his lips. “You know what I *have* thought about, though?” “What?” I grumble, willing to bet he has something stupid in mind. “You.” “Me?” He nods. “As a dad.” That’s not what I expected to hear, and I raise my eyebrows. “What?” “Yeah,” he says, licking his lips. “I have this weird fantasy that we have a kid together.” I gulp a bit. “Really?” “Yeah. A son, in particular,” he says with a coy smirk. I feel my face get warm from the way he’s looking at me, from what he’s implying. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since Noah was born.” Ah, little Noah, the newest member of the family, Wes’s and Tanya’s third child. He’s just under a year old, but he and Eli already have a bond of some sort. That much is clear. “Is that sick of me?” Eli asks. I gulp a bit. “Depends on what you’re thinking.” He just grins and shrugs at first. “I don’t know. I think it’d be sweet, seeing you raise a boy. But… I’ll admit, some of my fantasies are… not so pure.” I know he can sense my cock hardening, because he’s sitting squarely in my lap. He chuckles. “I knew you’d like that,” he says softly, gripping my cock with one hand as he leans in to nibble on my ear. “Fuckin’ perv.” Eli’s not only grown physically, but in terms of his personality. I sensed a take-charge side of him when we first started playing together, but now that he has the almost cocky confidence of a teenager who tends to get what he wants from me, it has come out full-force. He doesn’t use his power in a manipulative way, necessarily — just in a rather enticing, sensual manner. It keeps me on my toes, him being able to switch between submissive and dominant in the blink of an eye. Me allowing him to explore that dom within him has made him really flourish, I think. Plus, it’s been nothing but positive for our sex life. Now, he fucks me nearly just as much as I fuck him. It’s give-and-take, this relationship, constantly meeting halfway but just going with whatever flow we decide to ride. But he has a way with words, something that I never taught him, something he discovered all on his own. He’s turned into a bit of a dirty talker along the way. He gets off on telling me to “molest” him, reminding me that I’m a “dirty perv,” threatening to get me “thrown back in jail where [I] belong.” It gets me hot as all hell, and he knows it. I swear under my breath as he grips my now-hard cock. “We’re gonna be late,” I mutter. “Good,” he whispers, lapping my earlobe before kissing my neck, laughing, and then pulling away from me. “Breakfast,” he says plainly, and heads right back to the stove with a smug grin on his face. When we arrive at Wes’s house, my parents are already there. I’m sure they’ve talked the ears off of Wes and Tanya already, and I brace myself for my own interrogation as Eli and I step izmit escort into the house. My mother is the first person who sees us, practically running towards the front door when she hears us walking in. “Lord have mercy, *finally*!” she cries, waddling towards us and pulling Eli into a hug just as I lock up. “Where were you? I was about to call a search party.” “Uncle Leo took his sweet time getting ready,” Eli says as his grandmother pulls away from him. I scowl at him, knowing full-well he’s just teasing. We fucked before we came here. That’s why we’re so late. A touchy breakfast turned into us abandoning our half-finished omelets for some deep sex on the couch. It wasn’t quick, either. We took our time to enjoy each other’s bodies, and I got two loads out of my nephew before I pumped him full of my own. “Hmpf. You enjoy keeping your mother waiting?” she demands before smiling and coming over to hug me. I sigh. “No, Ma,” I say, wrapping my arms around her and kissing her cheek. Even though fucking her grandson was absolutely worth it, I apologize. “I’m sorry.” “Mhm,” she says skeptically, pulling back to fix my hair. “You’re lucky we didn’t eat with out you. Come, come,” he says, grabbing my arm and ushering me towards the living room. “Go say hello to your father and then join us at the table. And I want to hear all about your endeavors.” I hear Eli giggling as my mother forcibly moves me from room to room. She leaves Eli and me in the living room to greet my dad while she scurries back to the kitchen, presumably to help set the table. I sigh as we step into the room. Somehow, the air feels different in here: damp, thick, hot, uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the fact that my father is sitting alone in a rocking chair, watching images on the television with no sound accompanying them. It’s a sad sight. “Think he’ll recognize me this time?” Eli murmurs to me. “I don’t know, kid,” I tell him. Alzheimer’s has proven to be a tricky business. Sometimes, Dad’s his normal self, memory almost fully intact. Other times, he finds his surroundings completely unrecognizable. He always seems to remember me, though. That’s at least some solace. “Hey, Dad,” I say gently as I kneel by his chair and place a hand on the wooden arm. At first, I wonder if he simply didn’t hear me, because his focus is solely on the television in front of him. But then he slowly turns his head, his eyes taking in the details of my facial features before a small smile appears on his lips. “Leo,” he says gently, patting the back of my hand. “You’re here.” “I’m here, Dad,” I say, stroking his leathery hand with my thumb. “And so is Eli.” “Eli?” he asks, his joy turning to confusion. “Me, Grampy,” Eli says, stepping into my father’s periphery. Dad looks up at Eli, studying his face for a few moments before deciding he’s unfamiliar. He addresses me. “Is that your son?” I hear Eli snort behind me, and I exercise patience. “No, Dad, he’s my nephew,” I say gently. “He’s Wesley’s son. You know Wesley, right?” “Wesley…” He says it slowly, almost like a whisper, testing the name on his lips. I give him a few moments to think on it before I sigh. “Never mind,” I say. “How are you feeling? Are you hungry?” “Oh, *starving*,” Dad says, his lips splitting into a grin again. “Alright,” I say, standing up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll be right back with some food.” Dad keeps a tender grip on my hand, squeezing it. “Thank you, my son,” he says before letting go, turning back to the TV. I step away from the chair, and as I start heading towards the kitchen, Eli walks beside me. “You okay?” “Hm?” I ask. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just… tough,” I say with a tight-lipped smile. Eli, understanding, runs his hand soothingly up and down my back until we’re in the kitchen with everybody else: Mom, Wesley, Tanya, and Elaine, who’s busy rearranging all the silverware on the dining room table. We do our standard greetings, full of hellos and hugs and cheek-kisses during this mass effort to bring food from the kitchen to the table. When I pull back from Wes’s hug, he keeps a hand on my shoulder, talking in a lower voice. “Did Dad recognize you?” “Yeah,” I say, wincing slightly. I know how it must affect Wesley. I imagine it hurts to be the son your father doesn’t remember. But even if it does pain him, he doesn’t show it much. He just sighs through his nose before nodding in acceptance. “Well, at least there’s some of him left,” he says. I smile gently at him, appreciating his more positive take on things lately. “Where’s Noah?” Eli asks. “Upstairs,” Tanya says from across the kitchen, looking rushed as she always does when there’s a lot of food to take care of. “Wanna grab him?” “Sure!” he says excitedly. Without asking if I want to accompany him, he grabs my hand and pulls me towards the staircase. We make our way to the master bedroom, where Noah is sitting up in his crib, looking around aimlessly. At the sound of us entering, he looks excited, like a puppy who’s starved for attention. “Hey, little buddy!” Eli says sweetly. “Did you miss me?” Noah just responds to Eli’s tone with giggles and spittle. I grin a bit. “Is that a yes?” “I take it as a yes,” Eli says, smiling as he reaches into the crib to scoop the baby into his arms. Immediately, the infant goes for Eli’s nostrils, tugging on them and making his big brother laugh. “Sorry I’m so late. Unca Weo was pumping a *big* big woad in my butt,” he says in his baby voice. “Eli!” I mutter, blushing. “What?” he says, clearly amused, looking at me as he bounces Noah in his arms. Noah’s attention has moved to the collar of Eli’s shirt. “He can’t understand me. I can tell him *all* my secrets and he’d never even know.” “You’re being ridiculous,” I murmur, glancing towards the door. “Oh, come on. It’s funny! Try it!” He lifts Noah and extends him towards me. “Tell Noah how you fucked me so deep I nearly cried.” I roll my eyes before reaching forward and flicking my eldest nephew’s forehead. “Ow!” “Let’s just go downstairs, you little fucker.” He just laughs and grins at me before his smile softens for his baby brother. “I promise Uncle Leo’s actually really sweet,” he tells Noah before kissing the boy’s head as we start to exit the room. “You should really think about having a kid, though,” he says to me. “This seems like one of your fantasies, not mine,” I say with a grin as I lead the way into the hallway. “But you’d be good at it,” he says. “You were good with me.” I glance back at him, smiling at the fact that he’s dropped the jokes for now and adopted a more tender, sincere tone. “Is this you being real with me?” “This is me being real with you,” he says. I blink. “So you really think I’d be a good dad?” “A hot one, that’s for sure,” he says, smirking. I roll my eyes again, shaking my head. “You can’t be serious for two seconds,” I murmur, heading down the stairs. Eli just giggles behind me, apologizing before we join the rest of our family. It’s been an interesting few years for our little unit. Dad’s illness was swift and stealthy, and we all have found it difficult to adjust. It affects my mother the most, of course, to have to endure days where her husband doesn’t know who she is. But still, it forces us all to appreciate the bonds that we do have while we have them. My mother visits far more often now, even if she acts like she hasn’t seen me in years. She’ll always request a full run-down of my “activities,” including workplace happenings and social outings. She never pesters Wes the same way she does me, but I know why: she wants to know when I’m getting married. It’s a bit amusing, her desperation, but I don’t have the heart to tell her that marriage is a path I’ve willingly chosen to leave untraveled. Maybe I’ll stumble back onto it one day, but for now, I have no plan to. I have Eli — who wants me to be a dad, of all things. Is that something that’s in the cards for me? I doubt I could adopt. My record would surely make that a bit iffy. I suppose surrogacy could be an option… Damn, am I really giving this some thought? It doesn’t help that Eli’s so good with Noah. After I sneak a plate of food for my father, and while we all enjoy a large lunch together around the dining table, I can’t help but find myself watching Eli’s every move. Elaine commandeers my lap after complimenting my new necklace because she wants to see it up close. As she switches between eating her meal and studying the shiny silver, most of my attention remains on my nephew. He’s sitting beside Noah in his high chair, having taken over the responsibility of feeding the baby. Even though he’s turned into a self-assured stud, there’s still that boyish tenderness about him, the thing I fell in love with in the first place. Hell, *he’d* be a good dad. Once we’ve all overfilled our stomachs with stuffed bread, various pasta dishes, Mom’s homemade raviolis, and salad, it’s time for cake. Ironically enough, the cake is Vince’s recipe, the same strawberry shortcake he and Eli made for my nephew’s twelfth birthday. Eli raved about it for days after, and now, our family is just as obsessed with it. As Tanya brings the freshly-made cake into the dining room, topped with a single candle, we all sing “Happy Birthday” at the top of our lungs. As we all eat, Wes opens gifts. Elaine made him a particularly adorable card; Eli got him a full pajama set, complete with a robe and matching slippers; Tanya got him whiskey imported from the small town in Ireland he visited years ago; and I got him a box of cigars, on account of his sudden interest in us smoking them together. When he opened my gift, he just hit me with a private smirk that said, “You and me later, little brother.” Mom’s gift had the strangest effect on him, though. She got him a card — but as he read her personalized note, his brows furrowed. “A job offer?” he asks, looking at Mom in confusion. “Yes,” she says excitedly. “Your father and I — well, just me, really — want to give you the business.” I stare in surprise, only looking away when Elaine lifts a forkful of cake to my lips to feed me. This is a big deal. Dad’s (and Mom’s, technically) real estate business is their entire livelihood. Dad hasn’t been in any condition to work, so Mom’s been doing much of the heavy lifting — and she’s not exactly spritely anymore. It *would* make sense if one of their sons took things over. Wes, however, doesn’t seem interested. He stares at the card for a second before putting it down and sliding it back towards our mother. “I can’t do that, Mom.” “Why not?” she asks, looking almost offended. “My family’s my job.” My mother sighs and mutters something under her breath before occupying herself with her cake. Even if she didn’t like that response, I can tell Tanya did. She smiles brightly, appreciative of the fact that her husband still constantly defends his decision to be a stay-at-home dad. My mother doesn’t approve of it. She’s traditional in that sense, and she doesn’t see that there’s nothing wrong with a woman being the breadwinner. No matter. She can keep trying to subtly get her eldest son back on the workforce, but this is a battle she can’t win. Wes and Tanya both have never been happier. “Give it to Leo,” Wes suggests after a moment. Now I tense up. “What’s that?” Wes just smiles at me. “You’re more equipped to handle it than I am.” I blink. “I don’t know shit about business, Wes,” I say, and Elaine giggles in my lap. I wince after I realize I cursed. “Sorry,” I mutter to Tanya. “Mom and I can teach you,” Wes says. “If you want it, that is.” I glance at my mother, who seems to be thinking it over. She looks just as surprised as I feel. I’m not the business guy. I build houses, not sell them. But maybe this is a good opportunity to really rake in some cash. And fuck, if I owned the business, I could bring in anyone I want, right? I wonder if Vince would accept a job from me. “I didn’t think you’d be interested,” my mother says, eyeing me. “But if you are…” Almost everyone’s eyes are on me, waiting for me to make a decision. I just clear my throat. “I’ll think on it,” I say, trying to buy myself a little more time to weigh out my options. But really, the more I think about it, the sillier it seems to say no. I can easily learn how to handle the business, and if I can make serious money, I can provide… “That’s a yes,” Wes says with a little grin. I blink. “Well, just wait until I–” But Mom is positively gleeful. “Oh, this is so exciting! My little boy, taking over the family business,” she says, clapping her hands together. I just laugh to myself. Shit. I guess this is happening. “Maybe you can put this one to work somehow,” Wes says to me, cocking his chin towards Eli. Eli just grins at me. “Sure. Put me to work, Uncle Leo.” I will myself to look away from him. “He’s only fifteen. Aren’t there, like, child labor laws or something?” “Oh, *now* he respects the law,” Eli murmurs playfully, but it’s loud enough for me to hit him with a hard look. He’s pushing it — and I think he can tell, because he immediately reels it in. “But a job would be nice. I need to start saving up.” “Damn right you do,” Wes says. “College is practically just around the corner.” “Don’t say that,” Tanya says. “I’m trying not to think about it.” Eli just laughs. “Don’t worry, Mom. I wouldn’t go far.” At that sentiment, Tanya smiles, reaching over to stroke her son’s hair. He hums at the touch before he sits up and clears his throat. “Hey, so, now that the attention is briefly on me,” Eli says, polishing off his fork with his tongue, “I have an announcement.” I tense up for a moment. An announcement? Is he really going to tell everyone what he told me this morning? I glance around at his parents and grandmother, all of which are looking at him with intrigued expressions. “About what?” Tanya asks curiously. What surprises me is how embarrassed he *doesn’t* look. He doesn’t seem nervous, or unsure. I know him. I can tell he’s only pausing for dramatic effect, not because he’s terrified of the response. Maybe he trusted what I said enough to not be worried. He glances at each of his family members before his eyes settle on mine. Then, he smiles slightly before looking down at his place. “I think I’m gay.” Wes chokes on his cake, coughing and pounding on his chest, and Tanya holds his upper arm. “Drink,” she says, pushing his glass of water towards him. He takes the cup and guzzles all the water down before sighing heavily and clearing his throat. “Sorry,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. Eli just looks amused. “‘S okay.” Wes glances at his son calculatingly. “So… you *think* you’re gay?” Eli shrugs as if it’s not a huge deal. “Yeah. I’m like, 90% sure.” “How can you be 90% sure?” his grandmother questions, clearly speculative and probably not approving of the context of this conversation. Wes immediately turns to her. “Ma…” “What?” “Leave him be,” he says, before turning back to his son with a gentle smile. “90% sure is pretty sure.” I chuckle to myself. I can’t put to words how proud of Wes I am. It seems reacclimating himself with the joys of fatherhood by committing to being a stay-at-home dad has made him far more patient and open-minded. I can imagine that, at the height of his career (and the ironic low-point of his familial standing), he would have freaked out on Eli. I guess letting Tanya take over income has given him the space to figure out what truly matters — and what doesn’t. “I’m just telling you now so that you’re not surprised when I don’t bring a girl home,” Eli says, playing with his fork. That’s when he glances at me. I’d kick him if he were closer. He only said that to make a jab at me and the fact that my mother constantly asks when I’ll have a woman for her to meet. “Do you have… a boyfriend or something?” Tanya asks. Eli smiles slightly. “Yeah.” Both Tanya and Wes look at each other in surprise. “Is it Jimmy?” his mother asks, and Eli immediately bursts out laughing. “Ew, Mom, no,” he says, shaking his head. “I’d never date Jimmy.” “Well then, who is it?” “Just some guy,” Eli says vaguely, scratching his fork against his plate. That gets a chuckle out of Wes, who probably finds his son’s nonchalance reminiscent of his own adolescence, but Tanya presses forward. “Well, are we ever going to meet him? You should invite him over!” “Tomorrow!” my mother says suddenly, clearly wanting to be in on the fun. “Before I leave.” But Eli shakes his head. “He’s not out yet, so he wouldn’t be super comfortable meeting everyone,” Eli says smoothly, and they all accept the lie. “Besides,” he continues, looking at me again, “I have plans tomorrow.” I smile. That you do, little man. We have a road trip planned — with none other than Vince. Vince has become somewhat of an unofficial big brother to Eli over the past few years. They still geek out plenty over comics like little boys at times, but there’s a deeply fraternal bond between them that has only matured them both. I remember picking Eli up from his sleepover with Vince. God, what a smile that kid had on his face. As I drove him home, he told me all about how they baked homemade strawberry shortcake together and made a total mess of the kitchen, how they pulled pranks on Vince’s cranky roommate, and (he whispered this part) how he practically coerced Vince into sex. It was just a bit of oral and mutual masturbation, apparently, but the way he described chipping at Vince’s hesitation until he gave in was humorous to me. Still, I reached over, patted Eli’s thigh, and told him he shouldn’t pressure anyone into anything — even though my cock was growing in my shorts at the thought. I made a mental note to get Vince’s side of things later on. Vince was a little embarrassed after I confronted him about it, but I assured him there was no harm done. If Eli wanted it, then I was fine with it. After that, Vince became much more comfortable, and the three of us became somewhat of a unit — not necessarily for sex (though Vince has either watched, filmed, or joined in on our play on numerous occasions) but for companionship. We went on day trips together, shopped together, celebrated birthdays together, had sleepovers, or just simply hung out regularly. I think what Vince appreciated yahya kaptan escort most was how we were there for him when he needed someone to help him through his latest emotional struggle. After mulling it over for months, Vince finally decided to reach out to his mother per his father’s request. I think deep down he knew her perception of him bothered him, and if anything, this would allow for some sort of reconciliation. When he got in contact with her, the first thing she did was apologize. He noticed at first that her apology seemed hollow, but he gave her the benefit of the doubt and chalked it up to a history of mistrust — and then she started asking for money. Turns out her second attempt at marriage didn’t fare well for her, and she’s somehow accumulated a mountain of debt. It crushed Vince all over again, to think that her initial motivation was to only get money out of him. But he didn’t have to cope alone. Eli and I were there for him as his true friends, with bonds far deeper than the ones he has formed with guys his own age. It’s to the point where both of us feel it’s time to let Eli deeper into the fold and finally take him to meet Will. We tried planning it out much earlier, but it took a while to get the kid approved for visitation (in which part of me wondered if it was because of Will’s specific crime). Then, every time we tried to plan for all three of us to make the trip, something came up: first, Vince got sick, then there was another last-minute lockdown, then Eli somehow caught a case of the flu, then Vince’s car broke down halfway there, then there was a hurricane warning that made travel far too dangerous… It seemed God was keeping us all from coming together. But this is our time, finally. The weather is clear, Vince’s car is tuned up, and we’re all happy and healthy. As long as nothing happens up in prison that would result in a lockdown, we’ll be set. The three of us will travel up north, visit Will, and then get a motel for the evening. It’s a secret trip, off his parents’ radar, especially since we won’t be back in time for Eli to get to school Monday morning, but doing things in secret is, according to my nephew, half the fun. “So, this is the infamous nephew,” Will says, eyeing Eli up and down after both Vince and I step away from our greetings. Will pauses as if struck. “*Jesus*, you’re handsome!” Eli just laughs at Will’s amazed expression as they shake hands. “Thanks,” he says, his tone straddling the line between modest and cocky. Will doesn’t let go of Eli’s hand though, continuing to stare at the boy almost in awe. The guard has to clear his throat to get Will’s attention. “Hands, inmate.” “Huh? Oh,” he says, coming back to consciousness and laughing nervously. “Sorry.” “It’s alright,” I chime in, amused by his reaction. “I know he’s pretty.” Eli jabs me with his elbow as we all sit down at the small table beside us. My nephew sits right next to me, keeping as close as possible. “Pretty doesn’t quite cover it,” Will murmurs under his breath, soaking in the sight of Eli again before shaking his head and then smiling. “Well, it’s lovely to finally meet you,” he says jovially. “Heard a lot about you.” “*Seen* a lot about you,” Eli teases back, getting a good laugh out of the rest of us. “Cheeky little guy, ain’tcha?” Will says with a twinkle in his eye. That little spark is what Vince is referring to when he says his stepdad’s “got boy in his eyes.” Part of me is surprised that he’s so entranced by Eli, because he’s outside Will’s usual preferred age range, but I can’t say I blame him. Eli is just… perfect, and has been every step of the way. “Just where it matters,” he says playfully, holding my thigh under the table and smiling. Will laughs heartily, shaking his head while pointing at Eli. “This your doing?” he asks me. I grin. “He’s always been like this,” I say, feeling him affectionately stroking my leg with his fingers. “Just got worse over the years.” “Hey!” Eli says, pretending to be offended. “What? Tell me I’m wrong,” I say, smirking at him. He grins at me, resting his chin on my shoulder. “So you want me to lie?” I laugh. “There you have it,” I say before lowering my voice. “I still like you, though.” Eli’s lips spread into a wider smile, and he flashes his array of flawless teeth at me. “I like you, too.” It’s moments like these where I forget everything else. I forget we’re in a prison with Vince, visiting his stepdad, situated in a room full of the incarcerated and their loved ones. I have enough sensibility to behave myself, but not enough to keep myself from getting lost in his gaze. Not that I’m trying to resist. I’m perfectly content locking eyes with my boy, being close enough to taste each other’s breath, close enough to block out the stale scent of the room and smell nothing but him. I’m happy. Then Vince speaks up. “Dad? You okay?” Both Eli and I shift our attention across the table to Vince’s stepdad. The man’s crying. “Will?” I ask, surprised. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, clearly trying to compose himself, sniffling and wiping his eyes. “What’s wrong?” Vince asks, sneaking in a quick stroke of his father’s arm. I think it’s instinctual, because he quickly snatches his hand away when he realizes what he’s doing. “Nothing, nothing. I promise,” he says, nodding. “It’s just… finally *seeing* you two together, confirming it with my own eyes? It warms my heart more than you can imagine.” He smiles at us through the tears, his cheeks glistening from the fluorescent lights above us. “I’ve always worried in the back of my head that I fucked my son up for good,” he admits. “You didn’t fuck me up, Dad,” Vince says, reaching across the table. But he stops himself. He might have been able to get away with a gentle caress, but there’s no hand holding in here, no matter how much one might want to. “I know, baby,” he says tenderly, wiping his nose as he looks at his son. “I know how you feel. But try to see it from my position,” he explains. “It helps me to see and know another couple like us, you know? Other people who *get* it. Reinforces that it was… that it was a positive thing.” “It still is a positive thing,” Vince says, clearly trying his best not to cry, too. Will nods slowly, scanning his son’s face. “You wouldn’t lie to me, right? Even if it hurt?” Vince shakes his head. “I don’t have to lie,” he says. “I love you, Dad.” Will exhales through his nose, looking at his son with the most tender expression I’ve seen on him to date. “God, I love you so much, Vinny.” Under the table, I feel Eli’s hand move smoothly to mine. He slips his fingers into the spaces between mine and gives my hand a squeeze, holding on tight. I squeeze back, smiling at the emotional moment occurring right in front of us. Seems there’s some tenderness in the air today. It’s obvious that they both want to leap into each other’s arms and kiss until the sun goes down, but they settle with smiling in close proximity. “You know,” Will starts to say, clearing his throat, “I wasn’t going to say anything, because I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but…” Here he pauses, all of us leaning in a hair. “I’m eligible for parole soon.” Both Vince and I perk up, surprised. “Wait, what?” Vince asks, sitting up straight. “Parole? Really?” “Yep. I have a hearing coming up.” “When?” Vince demands. “In about a month.” Vince is temporarily immobile before he starts to look like he’s resisting all urges to leap out of his seat. “A *month*?” Will just nods, smiling. “So… so… you could get your sentence shortened?” Vince asks desperately. “I could get *out*,” Will says slowly, making sure his stepson understands the words he’s telling him. Vince stares at his stepfather, his lip quivering in shock before his mouth splits into the widest, most boyish grin I’ve ever seen grace his face. It’s joy at its purest — and Vince can do little more than laugh, smile, and cry. “You could get out,” he repeats slowly, quietly, as if he’s trying out the words himself — and I’m sure no other words have tasted sweeter lately. Will’s announcement brings a lightness to the rest of our visit. It’s nothing but laughs, jokes, and bright smiles. Will does take a good chunk of time to essentially interview Eli, and Eli hits him back with the same curious questions, always eager to know more, but even then, conversation is easy and carefree. By the end, I realize no other visit has felt so deeply fraternal and emotional. No other visit has left us all with such a strong sense of hope. Vince is so excited about the prospect of Will being granted parole that *I* have to drive us in his car to the motel. He’s too fidgety and too anxious to be trusted behind the wheel. Eli finds his inability to be still amusing, but I find it endearing. I understand why he’s acting this way. The love of his life could be returned to him far sooner than he thinks, after all these years of waiting, of being separated, of not being able to kiss or even hug like they want to. There’s so much for them to catch up on, and so much more to return to. The motel’s not far from the prison, since we’re not traveling much today. Our goal is to eat, sleep, and wake up in the wee hours of the morning to drive up to a nearby peak where we can watch the stars and then the sunrise. Vince and I discovered this little park on our last trip here. We had arrived in town early enough for us to decide to go for a walk before visitation and stretch our legs a bit. We discovered that there’s a perfect spot near the peak of this state park where the sky opens up completely and the sun is sure to be beautiful peeking out from behind those far-away hills. Vince is still a jittery mess, even when we check into the motel and get into our room. I swing my overnight back onto the bed Eli and I will be sharing before I pull out my wallet and hand Vince some cash. “Here,” I tell him, grinning as I stuff bills into his palm. “Go walk this energy off, and then come back with food for the three of us. Preferably pizza.” He nods a bit, blushing. “Sorry,” he says, stuffing the cash into his pocket. “Don’t be sorry,” I say, cupping his face affectionately. “I know what this means to you.” He smiles at me, his eyes still faintly wet from all those happy tears he’s been shedding today. “I know he didn’t want to get my hopes up, but…” “Up they are,” I say with a little laugh. I just pat his shoulder. “If it’s any consolation… I have a good feeling about this.” Vince stares right into my eyes, somehow looking relieved despite being at maximum excitement. “You do?” “Yeah, buddy,” I say earnestly. “You’re not just telling me that, right?” he asks, though I know he trusts me to be honest and open with him. I’ve been nothing but throughout our friendship. “I wouldn’t do that,” I tell him. “It’s been a long time, he’s never caused any sort of trouble in there… I think it’s safe to hope. It’s good of you to send out those vibes his way, anyway.” Vince laughs. “Well, I’ve got plenty of those for him,” he says cheerfully before suddenly he pulls me into a warm embrace. It’s on the verge of suffocating, but I let him latch on, hugging him back. “Thank you, Leo,” he murmurs into my neck. I just smile, tightening the hug briefly before sliding back. “Now go walk it off,” I tell him, affectionately punching his shoulder. “And don’t forget the pizza.” He salutes me, grinning. “Aye aye, sir.” And with a dazzling smile, he’s off. Once Vince shuts the door behind him, I push my backpack to the floor and then collapse onto the bed with a groan, resting on my back. Eli just smiles at me. “And *that’s* why I think you’d be a good dad,” he mutters. I snort. “Shut it,” I tell him, trying not to smile. Eli just chuckles a bit before heading towards the window, peeling the curtains back slightly to check out Vince as he walks away. “He’s so happy.” “Happy?” I question. “I don’t think ‘happy’ quite covers it, kiddo.” “How about… ‘delirious with euphoria’?” Eli says, turning back to me. I laugh, eyeing him up and down quickly. “That’s more fitting.” Then, I grab the remote from the bedside table and turn the television on. “Wanna watch something?” I ask as I kick my shoes off. Eli just shrugs before joining me on my bed. I expect him to just rest beside me, but he gets close, pressing his front against my side, his hand moving smoothly down my arm. While I’m flipping through channels, he manages to replace the remote with his own hand and lock our fingers together, leaving the TV to settle on some Spanish drama. “I realized something,” he says softly. I arch my brows, turning my head towards him. “Yeah?” He bites his lip, contemplating something. “I’ve never really told you I loved you.” I smile. “Sure you have, kid.” “Not really,” he insists, looking so soft and boyish next to me. “And I didn’t really… get it until I saw it, you know? Until I saw it happening right in front of me.” He smiles gently to himself as he stares at our hands linked together, gently nudging his thumb against the back of mine. “I thought, ‘That’s how Uncle Leo looks at me. And the way Vince feels about Will? That’s how I feel about Uncle Leo.'” He tilts his face up to look at me. “I just don’t know how to say it properly.” I smile at him gently, my heart gushing for him. We know each other well enough for me to understand where he’s coming from. The last time we got cushy with our feelings was when he was still just a kid — or, a younger kid, at least. I tried to explain my feelings to him, but he understood it as a crush, a crush that he felt was mutual. I’m sure it made sense to him then, and although it was adorable, to me, it seemed like such a juvenile way of describing it. It wasn’t just a crush, and it never has been. It was love, pure and simple, deep and resolute. Still is. At the time, I vowed at least to *show* him I loved him through my actions, and he has reciprocated every step of the way. “You don’t have to say it, Eli,” I tell him. “I know how you feel.” I lean in and kiss his lips tenderly, to which he responds with a hum. “But… I’m really fucking glad you told me that.” He smiles, blushing ever so slightly. “I didn’t sound stupid, did I?” “Not at all,” I assure him, smiling against his lips. Satisfied, he kisses me again, holding it for a little longer before he starts rolling on top of me. I slide an encouraging hand down to his flank as he settles on top of my body, gradually kissing me deeper, and deeper, and deeper still. He keeps the speed slow but purposeful. Every kiss has intention. Every smack of our lips speaks to our need for each other. Every tease of his tongue causes the rest of my body to call out for him, to ask for more. Whether or not he wanted this to be more than just a good old-fashioned make-out session, I start tugging on the hem of his shirt. I feel him smile into the kiss before he pulls back enough for me to lift his t-shirt up and off of him. Once his shirt is on the floor, he sits up in my lap, and I place my hands on his shoulders and slowly drag my palms down his still-smooth torso, feeling out each muscle I come across. His core is impressive — far more impressive than mine is. I knead into it with my knuckles, making him chuckle and slap my hands away. “Easy on the goods,” he says, and I laugh. “Don’t you mean these?” I ask, moving one hand right to his groin. The effect is both comical and arousing, seeing him tense up, groan, and blush so instantaneously. I grind my palm into the crotch of his shorts, grinning up at him. “Don’t start what you can’t finish,” he murmurs, looking down at me. “Who said I wasn’t going to finish?” I ask, cocking one eyebrow up at him. He smiles at that before looking down at my shirt and deciding it needs to come off, too. Hooking his fingers into the hem, he tugs upwards, and I lift my back a bit to help him strip it off of me. Once my head is free, my necklace flops down onto my bare upper chest, feeling cool to the touch. It catches Eli’s eye, because even as I’m undoing his shorts and helping him out of them, he’s tenderly sliding his fingertip across the metal. Once he’s down to his briefs, I take a second to soak in the sight of him, of his tall form, of his teenaged musculature, of the gentle fuzz growing on his thighs, of the substantial bulge he’s sporting in those snug blue and white undies of his. God, he’s gorgeous. “I wanna do *you*,” Eli murmurs suddenly, playfully tugging on the chain around my neck. I chuckle, moving my eyes up to his face. “Do me?” “Fuck you, yeah,” he says, emphasizing that desire with a little thrust of his hips. I lick my lips a bit. “Did you bring lube?” He sighs, looking defeated for a moment as he rests his hands on my chest. “No.” “Well, why the hell not?” I ask. “You always do.” “Because I don’t need lube if you fuck *me*,” he says, “long as you do your job right and eat me out properly.” I give his ass a firm slap that’s muffled by the fabric of his underwear. He grunts but grins. “I didn’t think I’d be in the mood to top today.” “And yet, here we are,” I say with a smirk, rubbing the front of his bulge with my thumb, making him squirm ever so slightly. He bites his bottom lip, studying my face before saying, “I think you can handle it.” “Without lube?” I scoff. “Forget it.” Eli’s grown in the past few years — and that includes his boyhood turning into that of a young man’s. With a healthy amount of lube, I can take it. But that’s my crutch. “Oh, come on. You’re a tough guy.” “I’m not as well-practiced as you are, kid,” I tease, and he giggles slightly. I pull back the waistband of his briefs a bit to let the head of his cock poke free, and I gently tease it with my fingers. “Nonsense. You’re a really good bottom.” He lets me play with him for a moment before he leans in and presses his smiling lips against mine. “C’mon,” he says in a low voice, gently gyrating his hips. “I’ll give you the works.” I just sigh through my nose. “What if Vince comes back?” I ask. Not like it’d matter. I think I’m just looking for excuses to not do this without lube. “Then I’ll let him fuck you, too,” Eli says. I squint. “No,” I tell him. That’s where I draw the line. Bottoming is an act I reserve for gebze escort Eli, and Eli alone. But he just laughs. “I’m kidding. Sheesh.” He kisses me again, softly, teasingly. “You shouldn’t get so tense when you’re about to get fucked.” “I didn’t say I was getting fucked.” “Well, *I* did,” he says, nipping at my scruffy chin a bit before he starts moving down. I gulp, looking up at the ceiling and sighing. Well, if Eli wants it… He sends three soft kisses down the center of my torso before he gets to my jeans. Then it’s just a matter of getting me naked. He unbuckles my belt and tugs my jeans as open as possible before he starts pulling my pants off of my hips. He only shimmies them down mid-thigh, suddenly distracted by the hard-on I’m sporting in my boxers. Leaning closer, he buries his face in and inhales. “Fuck, I love how you smell,” he murmurs. I always grin when he gets to this point. I can see it in his eyes: that desperate, far-away look, like he’s fully fixated. It’s a special sort of trance that he tends to fall into when his head’s in between my legs. I’ve never asked, but I think his favorite act is sucking cock — *my* cock. Something about it fulfills him, as made evident by the hungry way he laps at my dick through the fabric of my underwear. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and starts tugging, but I stop him. “Nuh uh. What do you say?” I ask teasingly. He hits me with such a disapproving glare that I burst out laughing. “Don’t start with me today,” he threatens. “Oh, come on. You can dish it out but can’t take it?” I ask. “Just let me suck your cock in peace,” he says, biting his lip as he nudges his chin into my groin. “Please?” I just smile. “Fine,” I say, waving him off. “But you’ll get it later.” “You better *give* it later,” he murmurs with a smirk as he pulls my boxers away from my crotch, letting my cock swing free. He swears under his breath as if he’s never seen my package before, eyes glued to it even as he starts sliding both my jeans and my underwear down my legs. Once my ankles are free, he tosses the remainder of my clothes to the floor and leans forward to press an appreciative kiss against my shaft. My cock immediately responds to his touch, throbbing lightly and starting to ooze a thick drop of precum — something he’s quick to take notice of. He gingerly wraps his fingers around my cock, lifts the tip to his lips, and sucks on the head to gather up my flavor with his tongue. I hum deeply as he closes his eyes and runs his tongue along the glans. I reach down to run my fingers through his hair, and that seems to invigorate him a bit, because he immediately moans and then starts taking more of my manhood into his mouth. Quickly, he takes me right to the back of his throat, practically purring as he moves. “That’s it, baby,” I whisper to him, and he nods a little to show me he loves that encouragement, loves being told he’s doing a good job. He fondles my balls with one hand and pushes my legs open wider with the other, and I happily open up for him. It allows him to nestle into the space between my thighs comfortably as he eases me into his throat. I close my eyes, keeping an affirming hand on the back of his head as he chokes himself on me. God, it feels damn good though. His tongue molds to the underside of my cock while he attempts to swallow me whole, the muscles of his throat massaging me. He does nothing but grunt, gag, and slobber all over me, drooling and sucking like he’s been starving for days. Soon, he has to pull back for air, and he slides off to catch his breath. He wipes his nose and blinks tears out of his eyes, laughing slightly. “I hope you know just how much I love your cock, Uncle Leo,” he says, teasing the wet shaft with his fingers and grinning at me. I chuckle. “I have a general idea.” He licks his lips before going back down for more. He lies fully on his stomach, gobbling up my cock with a little more tenderness this time — but mostly because his sense of touch is distracting him. One hand stays loosely around my cock, just tilting me towards his mouth for easy access. The other hand is slowly creeping deeper between my legs, under my balls, brushing past my taint, and settling on my hole. He gives it a tender rub to test my response before getting more daring, slowly pulling his mouth away from my cock and lifting my balls to get to his prize. To make it easier for him (and because I prefer getting rimmed on my stomach), I roll over, swinging my leg over his head, resting on the front of my torso. He chuckles a bit, waiting until I’m in position before sliding in behind me. He hooks his arms under my thighs and holds his hands on my hips, keeping himself secure before diving right in. I grab the nearby pillow and hug it as Eli’s tongue starts exploring me, making my eyes roll back. I’m amazed by how into it he gets. My nephew has never been grossed out by the human body, nor how hairy it gets, and he’s certainly never found *my* body hair anything less than fascinating. He loves it. He loves dragging his tongue across my hole and matting down the hair that circles the ring until I’m dripping with his spit. I can feel a small stream of his drool running down my balls as he eats me out with an eagerness and a sexual appetite I can only be proud of. Long minutes go by where he laps and prods with his tongue, skillfully getting my hole to open up for him. Then, he removes his briefs and starts climbing over me slowly until he rests his body on mine. I feel his cock slipping between my cheeks, rubbing back and forth as he grinds. “Can I?” he asks, biting on my ear tenderly. “What if I say no?” I ask, looking back. “I’ll cry.” “Don’t do that,” I say, reaching back to pat his head. “I only like it when you cry sucking me off.” Eli snorts with laughter in my ear. “You’re a dick,” he murmurs, starting to pull back. I reach back and grab a fistful of his hair just to keep him in place. “Do it.” He pauses. “Yeah?” “Yes,” I tell him, letting go of his hair. “But don’t cum.” He whines. “Ugh, why not?” he asks, pushing his hips in deep. “Because I’m fucking you after. That’s the deal.” I can tell he’s smiling because he hums and then chuckles. “Well… I see no problem with *that*,” he murmurs, kissing my cheek sweetly before sitting up behind me. “Just… use a lot of spit, okay?” “C’mon, you don’t trust me?” he asks. “You think I wouldn’t take care of you?” I just roll my eyes, getting as comfortable as possible. As he spits down on his cock and coats himself in saliva, I lift my knees so that I’m a little more open for him, exhaling deeply. That’s one of the fundamentals of taking dick: breathing. Funny how Eli had to teach me how to bottom, how to properly breathe and will my body to relax. After all, he’s the one with experience. I hear those sloppy sounds of wet cock being stroked before I feel it, slick and warm, nudging between my cheeks and pressing against my hole. “Knock, knock,” he teases. “Eli, I swear to God–” “Shh,” he says, giving my ass a playful slap before starting to push forward. I clench my teeth just as the head of his surprisingly thick cock starts burrowing its way inside of me. Sheesh, it always takes me a second to refamiliarize myself with Eli this way. It’s intense. He feels hot, stiff, insistent, and every time I think he’s bottomed out he has more for me. It takes a special kind of toughness to take cock — and Eli’s been an inspiration since he was eleven. “You’re so fucking tight,” Eli groans, starting to rock his hips. “Loosen up.” “Stop growing up, then,” I tell him, grunting when he pushes in a little deeper. He laughs. “I wish I could,” he says before holding my hips tenderly and starting to focus more. He steadily rocks back and forth, feeding my ass more and more of his cock with each few thrusts. I grip the motel sheets tighter and tighter, clenching my teeth as I breathe through the initial pain. Then, slowly, I feel myself starting to relax a bit more, my grunts turning into deep groans as Eli settles into a rhythm. Inhale, exhale. There’s that pleasure in there, the one it took months for Eli to convince me existed. It was easy when he was a little thing, with a cock to match. Now, he’s packing, surely to be my size by the time he’s full-grown. It’s such a strange sort of good, to feel stretched and filled — but most of that joy comes from giving myself to my nephew. He can have all of me, just as I have had the honor to have all of him time and time again. His hands slide up my back, resting on my shoulders. Just as his fingers dig into my skin, he gives me an extra-deep thrust, causing me to practically yell and tense up in response. It wasn’t necessarily painful, but there was sheer, intense sensation shooting up my spine. “You fucker,” I mutter, swinging my arm behind us to slap his ass. He just laughs. “It’s the least you deserve, you fuckin’ perv,” he says, pushing on the back of my head and pressing my chin into the pillow. I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to rev me up so that when it comes time for us to switch, I’m primed to *really* give it to him. He’s skilled at getting me into that headspace. He knows all my pressure points: tugging my hair, grinding his cock deep into me, slapping my ass open-palmed as he thrusts, leaning over to whisper in my ear… It’s all an elaborate ploy to get me ready to go. There comes a point where he tries teasing me with his cock, pulling out fully and repeatedly dipping in with just a couple inches over and over. On one of the pull-backs, though, I muster up the strength to quickly reach back, grab his arm, and tug him onto the bed. He gasps in surprise, and before he knows it, I’m on top of him, pinning him to the mattress. He blinks before grinning up at me, panting. “Is it my turn now?” he teases. “It’s *my* turn now,” I mutter, and he licks his lips as I let go of his arms to grab his legs. I push them back, pushing onto the backs of his thighs enough for his hole to be winking up at me. He’s starting to grow the slightest bit of light-colored fuzz around his hole, a sight that always makes me grin. I press a kiss right on his opening, eliciting a soft mewl out of him. Quickly, he lifts a hand up to my hair and tugs, keeping me close — his way of asking for more. So, I give him more. I shift my hands to support his sides, holding tight as I drag my tongue around his sphincter. I lap, kiss, and ease into him with my tongue, all while maintaining eye contact. He just looks up at me, face flushed, an expression of sexual bliss on his face. His eyes constantly roll back when my tongue slides in deeper than he expected me to, and as his lids keep fluttering in an attempt to recapture my gaze, I’m busy coating him with my saliva, holding him securely, making him anticipate what’s to come. When I pull my lips away from his hole, I let go of his sides and let his ass fall back onto the bed. He laughs a bit, and I grin as I pry his legs apart to get in between them. “What if I say no?” he asks teasingly. I smirk, pausing. “Say no, then,” I tell him. “See what happens.” He just bites his lip, still locking eyes with me as if challenging me. I know he’s debating what to do. One time, when his “playful teasing” mid-fuck got too much for me, I withheld sex. I just stopped and pulled out and went to the shower, ignoring his attempts to apologize and continue. I can see he’s wondering whether or not he wants to test me right now. But he doesn’t say anything. So, I situate myself between his legs, reach down and grab my cock, and give him what he wants: no warning. I just thrust half of my hard-on right into my boy. He gasps out, back arching in surprise, but he’s pretty relaxed already. He no longer has that instinct to try and push me out. I fucked that out of him long ago. I just hold myself there for a moment, leaning down to kiss in between his pecs before I move to his lips. He immediately swings his arms around my neck, holding onto me tightly, kissing me back before we settle on breathing hard against each other as I start to thrust back and forth. I study his face as I rut into him, watching his expressions rapidly shift back and forth between pleasure, surprise, and deep-seated lust. His mouth utters a steady stream of whispered, loosely-tied phrases and commands, most of which I can’t even make out. But the ones I do hear are all positive: “Fuck me, please, please fuck me,” and “Oh my God, *right* there, right there,” and “Yes yes yes yes *yes*.” I just grin slightly, hovering over him and breathing close while we’re connected. I move my hand up to his face to cup his jaw, my thumb brushing across his bottom lip. Without missing a beat, he leans forward and takes my thumb into his mouth, sucking on it like it’s his life’s purpose. “Good boy,” I utter. He pants. “Yes,” he moans around my thumb, pausing his sucking. I pat his cheek twice, hard enough to sound like slaps, and he whimpers blissfully. “*My* boy.” “*Yes*,” he says, a little more urgently. I feel his fingers gripping my hair even more tightly, which just makes me increase the power of my stroke. I press deeply into Eli, sinking fully in with every thrust, my body hot and damp and electrified — especially when he locks eyes with me again. “I’m gonna cum,” he mutters. I look down in between us, smirking. No one’s laid a hand on his cock ever since I pushed mine into him. It’s all internal. I focus my thrusts, biting my lip as my eyes meet Eli’s once again. I don’t tell him with words. I show him. I adjust my pace and my stride just a hair, and I know he feels the difference. I feel him flexing. He’s so close. His eyes start to shut, but I stop him. “Don’t look away from me,” I tell him, and his eyes snap open again, totally focused on mine. In my periphery, I see his mouth opening wider and wider as his climax approaches, his eyebrows slowly raising higher and higher until he’s just at the brink of seeing God. Then, the sound finally escapes his throat. His moans come out fluttery and high-pitched, like he’s trying to choke them back, and I just smirk as his hole clamps down on my girth like the softest, most flexible vise over and over. “That’s it, baby,” I whisper to him, and he lets out an elongated whine, his thighs digging into my hips, his body instinctively wanting to curl and become as small as possible. I slow my thrusts, but barely, continuing to fuck him through his orgasm — and once Eli’s hole has calmed down, I kiss him hard, still rutting my hips into his body. After all, it’s my turn. Eli’s murmuring against my lips, so I pull back enough to let him speak. “Cum in me,” he whispers. I grunt, responding with harder thrusts, licking my lips. I can’t tell if it’s my thighs or my balls making that slapping noise, but it’s getting louder. “Harder, you sick fuck.” I clench my teeth, growling a bit, holding Eli’s arms down on the bed. He likes when I do that. Says it makes him feel “ravaged.” “Harder!” The bed’s shaking now. I’m less focused on speed and more on power, on force, on how hard his body meets mine, on how deeply my cock is exploring him. “You can do better than tha– Ah!” I quickly grip his jaw again, squeezing my thumb and fingers and holding him securely in place. He looks startled before he smiles. “Fuck yes,” he murmurs softly. I pull away completely. I’d almost laugh at how disappointed he looks if I weren’t so fucking horny right now. No matter. He won’t be sad for long. I get a brief look at the splattering of teenage cum on his stomach before I quickly flip him over, mount him, and resume what we had started. He moans out as I drive my cock back into him, his body sprawled out and submitting to me. “God, I love you,” he whines, biting his lip a bit. “I love you so much. I’m so fucking in love with you.” I feel it all over: my eyes shine, my heart skips a beat, and my cock throbs in his hole as that warm glow explodes inside of me. The love we feel is so real, so special, so filthy and perfect. Sensuality is a major, major component of our relationship, that’s for sure. Our chemistry in the bedroom is undeniable, and our openness to explore always makes things exciting. But the emotional connection we share, the mutual trust and love and innocent desire, that’s what really matters. That’s what’s most powerful. I’m in love with you too, Eli. I clench my eyes shut as, suddenly, my orgasm hits me out of nowhere. I curse, pushing my hand into one of Eli’s shoulder blades for support while I bury my cock as deep into him as I can possibly get. I’m barely cognizant of what Eli’s saying to me. All my senses aside from touch are shot. I hear nothing, see nothing, smell nothing, taste nothing. For a few blissful moments, I’m nothing but the embodiment of pleasure itself, nothing but a body of nerves singing gospel. When I come to, my vision is momentarily blurry. I blink as I release the tension from my muscles, exhaling with a loud moan. “Fucking hell, kid,” I say, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. I hear him giggling tiredly. “I really felt that one,” he says. I laugh. “I’m sure you did,” I say, looking down at my cock half-planted inside of him. I grab his cheeks, very slowly extracting myself until just the head is in. I watch as his hole pulses on it, like it’s milking the last drops, sucking on it. Fuck, what a sight. When I pull my dick from his hole, Eli sighs before reaching back and grabbing my hand. “Come here,” he says. I just smile a bit, doing as he asks and cuddling with him. He shifts onto his side and I spoon him, draping a leg over one of his and wrapping an arm around him. I rest my hand on his torso, running up and down, feeling the warm wetness of his load. I grin to myself a bit, kissing the side of his neck tenderly. “Happy?” I ask. “Very,” he says, smiling as he closes his eyes and holds onto my arm to keep me in place. I just bury my face into his hair, breathing him in. Very, huh? Good. I am, too, kid. I’m happy we’re together. I’m happy you love me. I’m happy that I get to love you still, that I get to witness your growth, that I get to enjoy these changes with you. Just… What did you say earlier? “Deliriously euphoric?” That’s me, Eli. I exhale deeply, my thumb lightly stroking his chest as we rest against each other, savoring the afterglow, even with the unintelligible drama unfolding on the TV. Eli moves his hand to mine, once again locking our fingers together comfortably, and when he gives my hand a squeeze, I smile. – The End –

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