Date: Mon, 19 Feb 2001 00:15:31 EST From: MikeBranson@aol.com Subject: Happiest Place On Earth - Part One DISCLAIMER: The following is just a fantasy. All the characters in the story are fictional. Please do not go further if you are under 21 and/or you are not looking for stories that explicitly describe man-to- man sex. HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH Mike Branson c 2001 I was fourteen the year I graduated from parochial junior high school. It was June, the days were growing longer, and I had three months before I would begin my freshman year at MHS. I was looking forward to public school, meeting new kids and making new friends. I had no idea that that summer would be a major turning point in my life or, more significantly, that my Uncle Brad would play such an influential role in the awakenings and changes that were to alter my life and ultimately initiate my transition into manhood. Brad was my mother's youngest brother, eight years my senior and, at twenty-two, engaged to be married to a girl named Julie who was strikingly beautiful but had the IQ of an eggplant. There was no actual wedding date set, but whenever Brad and Julie came over to the house my mother would invariably take Jules into her room where the conversation always turned to bridal dresses, invitations, flowers and all that jazz. On any given visit, Brad would raid the refrigerator while the women entertained each other and, with snack in hand, make his way up to my room to see what was going on with me in my world. That was probably the best thing about Brad, how he always took a genuine interest in me and never made me feel like the kid I was. We were friends, buds, comrades. He was my idol and I was his biggest fan, which, I suppose, gave us each a sense of importance and made us feel a little bit better about ourselves. Confession #1: Looking back, I think I always knew that my feelings for Brad went beyond the norm. I had other uncles, and I loved them all. But Brad was a different story. It was more than love, and it was more than the love I was supposed to feel. For as long as I could remember, I wanted Brad. I wanted him to want me. I wanted him to want me the way he wanted Julie, and all of the other Julies before her. I wanted to know what he looked like, to see him as I had never seen him. His thick brown hair, his hirsute chest, his muscular legs.these were familiar to me. I took them in visually with unassuming glances that, on occasion, may have lasted longer than they should have. But what about the hidden areas, the regions foreign to me? What I wouldn't give to see, touch, smell, taste. Especially taste. And those eyes. How often had I lost myself in those light brown eyes as Brad would be talking.and suddenly start to feel the stirrings that might have given me away? How many boners had I tried to hide when innocent wrestling on the lawn became too intense for my lust? How long had I felt this way? Only forever. But if Uncle Brad ever knew, or even imagined for the slightest moment, he never let on. Yeah, I had it bad. And that wasn't good. So, the weekend after I was to complete my eight-year tour of duty (Catholic school, starched uniforms and temperamental nuns), Brad and Julie offered to take a friend and I to Disneyland. This was to be my graduation gift from the two of them. The two of them. I hated that phrase. It wasn't that I hated Julie, but the jealousy was unmistakable. She had what I would never have, and I could not forgive her for it. I had been looking forward to that weekend since it was first hinted at months ago, but I never did invite a friend. It was bad enough I had to share Brad with Julie, I wasn't about to bring along another distraction. Thursday night, in a week that I thought would never get here, the phone rang. It was Uncle Brad. "Hey, Brat," he greeted. "All ready for the happiest place on Earth?" If you only knew, I thought as I reached down and rubbed my crotch. "Was that this weekend," I asked, trying to hide the excitement as my cock began responding to the gentle massage that I was giving it. "I'd almost forgotten." "Yeah, right, smart-ass," he shot back. I could see him smile. My hard-on was taking shape. Thank God my mother wasn't home. I unbuttoned my jeans and reached my hand down to stroke myself. I leaned back against the wall and gently tightened my grip. Make me cum, Brad. I dare you. "Listen," he continued, "I have bad news." My heart sank, my erection softened. "Jules has to work Saturday, there's no way out of it." What a cunt, I thought. Cunt, cunt, cunt. "Now, before you get pissed or anything, we have one of two options." I listened. "We can postpone Disneyland until next weekend, if you're free then, or we can make it just the three of us this Saturday. It's up to you." I tried to make sense of what he was saying. Three of us? No Jules? "Ben? Did I lose you?" "No, I'm here." With cock in hand, still. "Uncle Brad, I didn't invite anyone to go with us. I thought Mom told Julie that already." "Say what? You knew you could bring a friend. That was part of your graduation gift, Sport. Jules and I were picking up the tab. All expenses paid." My dick came back to life when he called me Sport. Reflexively, I returned my attention to it. Up and down, up and down. How does he stroke himself, I wondered. How big is it? How fat is it? What does it look like? Oh yeah, this is how we do it. "I appreciate that, Uncle Brad. But my best friend is leaving for the Grand Canyon this weekend. His family is doing the summer vacation thing." "You know, Sport, you didn't have to invite Tony. Jules thought there might be a young lady you'd like to ask. Someone special, maybe?" Well, that's what Jules gets for thinking. Cunt. Precum had made its way to the tip of my dick and I brought my index finger to it and rubbed it around the head till it glistened. Then I brought the finger to my lips and spread the moisture like lip balm. Brad must have interpreted my silence to mean that there was no "someone special". I almost laughed. "You know," he said, "I've kinda been looking forward to this weekend and I know you have, too. If you want, we can make it a guy's adventure. Cruise the babes and maybe hit on a few. What Jules doesn't know won't hurt me, right? We could wreak havoc on the park, what do you say?" My mind was on fast- forward. Me, Brad, together, alone. I was stroking hard now, trying to keep my rhythm. Do not let your breathing get out of hand, I warned myself. Stroke. Exhale. Stroke. Exhale. "Benji?" That did it. Ever since I was a child, Uncle Brad is the only one who's ever called me Benji. I get Brat and Sport from my mom and other family, but Benji is all his. In more ways than one. Before I knew it, I was pumping my jizz across the room. OH FUCK!!! FUCK YOU, BRAD!!! FUCK ME, BRAD!!! Streams of cum shot out of my teenage dick like fireworks in the sky. I pictured Uncle Brad at the other end of the line, naked, stroking his man-sized tool with one hand and rubbing his other hand through his furry chest, tweaking his nipples roughly. "Uh, Benji?" "Yeah, I'm sorry. I think I heard Mom just pull up outside," I lied. "That sounds like a plan, Uncle Brad." I brought some cum to my tongue. It was my cum. It was Brad's cum. I licked my hand. "If you're sure Jules won't mind." Cunt. "Like I said," he paused briefly, I imagined, to shoot his own juices, "what Jules doesn't know." I hung up the phone and lowered myself down the wall, sat myself on the carpeted floor. That was the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced. How many squirts had I gushed? Where had it all landed? I'd better clean this mess up before Mom really shows up. I looked down at my dick, pubes all matted with my goo. I closed my eyes and pictured Brad, sitting in his own hallway, trying to compose himself after his own stroke-a-thon. Him, me, alone, together. Happiest place on Earth? You'd better fuckin' believe it! End of first installment. Comments welcome at mikebranson@aol.com. This is my first attempt at writing fiction and I would love to hear from anyone with input, suggestions, ideas, etc. (Please be kind.)