Date: Sun, 22 Dec 2013 01:09:26 -0600
From: Kevin Turnbow <kebo_t@outlook.com>
Subject: Uncle Fuzzy 1 bM

Uncle Fuzzy

When I was a kid, we used to gather at greatgrandma's house.  It was big, a
lot of rooms, and an attic for all the boys to sleep.  It was full of
furniture and weird smells.  The boys, which were any male between 6 and 20
years old, were sent out of the house a lot.  We'd play at the school yard
across the street or in the little backyard.  While we were all cousins, I
never understood the complete relationships then, some were cousins, some
were my uncles, and I think one kid was my nephew.  Large families are like
that.

My dad's cousin was known to us as Fuzzy Nick, or Uncle Fuzzy.  There were
other Nicks, so some distinction had to be made.  Fuzzy seemed to really
fit him.  Most of the year, Fuzzy wore shorts and a wife beater or a
T-shirt with no sleeves.  And all over his arms and legs was red fuzzy
hair.  It was so thick on his body that it acted like a layer of
insulation.  He didn't need a jacket or coat, the fur kept him warm.  He
wasn't very attractive either.  He was about 5'6", I think.  And he
definitely could claim a patent on the shape, round.  He face was round,
his belly was round, and his whole body was round.

All the boys knew that he was happy to see us.  He wouldn't talk and visit
with the old folks, our parents, aunts and uncles.  He would sit in chair,
with his back to the way and only occasionally get into the conversation.
He loved have a boy near him or on him.  He was always willing to hold a
boy just getting out of the bathtub and get him warmed up.

I remember sitting on his lap many times.  Most of the time, it was a
comfortable place and a place where I could see and hear the adult
conversation.  One evening, I was in nothing but my tighty-whities and a
T-shirt.  I wouldn't even run around my own house is just underwear but it
was the uniform of the day there at GGrandma's.  I was in Fuzzy's lap.  I
could feel something hard in his lap.  I knew a little bit about boners but
only that they happened to some guys, mostly older.  For me, it was
difficult to relate the little stiffy that I would get from time to time
with a full grown dick's boner.  And I had no idea that there was any
benefit with a boner.

While sitting on Fuzzy's lap, I shifted my weight and his boner shifted to
the other side.  It wasn't unpleasant for me, just a shift where the bulge
was going to hit my butt.  I moved again, and his boner shifted to the
other side.  I didn't realize that my butt had some talent.  I also noticed
Fuzzy flinched just a little and sucked in a little air.  Fuzzy's reaction
and the feel of the boner shift on my butt made me want to do more.  I
shifted, and shifted again, and again.  And Fuzzy told me. "Ah, you're a
good boy."  And for many more times, each time I shifted and made his boner
move to the other cheek, Fuzzy kept telling me I was a good boy, over and
over.

Fuzzy's hands started to control my body, and shifted me from side to side,
faster and faster.  I wasn't helping to hide what was going on.  My head
rocked back and forth as if I didn't have control over it.  I could feel,
but really had no idea what was taking place, his cum rushing out of his
dick.  When Fuzzy was no longer moving me over his dick, I started rocking
back and forth.  Fuzzy wrapped his fuzzy arms around me chest and told me
to stay still.

I didn't get a chance to do that again over the holidays.  But the next
year, Fuzzy asked me as I stood near him if I wanted to be a good boy.  I
had almost forgotten about the previous year but when he said "good boy", I
remembered what he was talking about.  I nodded and he spread his arms and
I crawled up into his lap.  I wiggled but didn't feel that hard boner.  It
took a few minutes but I was up and wiggling in no time.  Almost every time
that I shifted, he would tell me that I was a good boy.  I don't know if it
was 5 minutes, or 10 minutes before Fuzzy grabbed and hugged me.  The hug
was more to keep me still.

Fuzzy let me sit on his lap for long time after that.  His little finger
would sneak into my underwear and play with my little balls.  I thought it
felt nice.  Christmas holidays and most every Independence Day for the next
4 years, it was the same thing.  I would get a chance to squirm on Uncle
Fuzzy's .  I knew what I was doing the last 2 years.  I could feel Fuzzy
cum, I could tell when he was right on the edge.  And I would be right on
the edge and needed to jack myself.

Finding privacy enough in that house with that mob was almost impossible.
There was almost always somebody in every room.  I had to crawl into my
sleeping bag at 1 in the afternoon and jack as fast I possibly could.  I'm
not sure why it was so difficult, the boys would do at least that almost
each night when the lights were dimmed and under was pulled down and boners
were on display.

When we returned when I was 16, I was so ready to get in his lap and get
him off.  I was worried about him doing me, but I, never the less, was
really wanting to show Fuzzy the size of my pubescent dick and balls.  I
was ready for him to be a good boy as well.  However, I was shocked and
surprised when I learned that Fuzzy wasn't coming that year.  Any question
about the details was snubbed or just completely ignored.  Very little
additional information was made over the next several years.  Piece by
piece, there were reports Fuzzy getting busted as he had his hand in some
"good boys" underwear.

Years have passed.  GGrandma's house is not in an urban renewal project,
the boys have scattered throughout the country, only memories remain.
Tonight, in a house a few miles away, the boys reconvened.  The boys and
the girls, and the cousins and aunts and uncles and anybody else we could
call family.  There were so many people there who I didn't recognize and
more who I had never heard of.  But I loved catching up with the boys who I
shared the attic with so many years ago.  And there was a new group of
boys.



And as a couple of my cousins and I were whispering about Uncle Fuzzy, he
walks in.  Moving slow, more gray than red, but still fuzzy.  He was still
in shape, round.  He went and sat in one of the big comfortable chairs.  My
aunts all hugged him and he seemed so grateful to be there.

Now, I have gone from a skinny kid with a nub for a peepee to 6'3" and a
nice sized heavy dick.  Yet, as I sat down next to Fuzzy, his face lit up.
He recognized me right away, calling me by name.  We talked about my life
for quite some time.  We were interrupted a few times but it was nice as
old family members were getting back together.  As we got up to go into one
of the rooms set up for dinner, his hand slid over my junk and he whispered
to me, asking me if I wanted to be a good boy!  I laughed as he gave a
couple of sweet squeezes.

We didn't get a chance to get back together this evening.  We will get to
be around each other until everybody leaves for home after Christmas.

I wrote this as soon as I got back to the hotel.  I'd love to know if what
you thought.  Let me know at kebo_t@outlook.com The longer I sit here, the
more stories I can think of about things that happened in that house and
with the boys and Uncle Fuzzy.