My grandmother had some definite ideas on the naming of her babies. I guess she thought the name she hung on them would somehow make her wishes come true. She gave them all names that meant handsome or beautiful. She started with Bella, who is my Mom. My oldest uncle is named Cullen, then came Uncle Nordin followed by Aunt Callista. Their baby brother was tagged, Beau.

Why Grandma didn’t give them names that meant smart or rich or famous is beyond me, but nevertheless, she must have been on to something. Every one of them grew up to be better looking than a lot of people. I’m kind of sorry Mom didn’t give me a name like that.

Not that I’m complaining about the way I look, but, well, most of us would like to improve the way we look, no?

Uncle Beau probably got the best of the wish fulfillment. A lot of that was because he was one of those guys whose body just seemed to develop in the way all boys wish their bodies would.

He’s only six years older than me, but when you’re growing up six years can seem a whole lot. By the time I was twelve, I thought he was some sort of idol. As far as I know, he never went through the skinny-teenager stage, but he didn’t grow as tall as his older brothers.

Not that he’s particularly short. He’s just on the short side of average, but to me, he was a giant. When he entered high school he joined the boxing team without Grandma’s knowledge. In fact, she didn’t find out until his senior year, even though some of my relatives must have known. I surely did.

That’s partially what I meant by him being my idol. I thought he was the coolest kid I knew. I think the reason he probably got away with it for so long was that his class grades were always so good, which for me showed just how smart he was.

I’m sure Uncle Nordin at some point knew what Uncle Beau was doing. Whether he did or not, when he acknowledged it he was one of his biggest supporters. By that last year of high school, Uncle Beau had decided that boxing was what he wanted to do to earn a living. His coaches said he was that good, and I guess like everybody that gets into that game, he was sure he could be a champion.

So he found a manager, joined the circuit and basically disappeared from our daily lives. We kept track of his every win and loss and we were happy that there were a lot more of the former than the latter. You can be sure, even though we (or at least the women) were continually worried about each upcoming bout, all of us were proud of him, win or lose.

His manager convinced him that as a professional boxer he wouldn’t be taken seriously with the name Beau, so he changed it to Bo. For a while he was promoted as Bobo, then he became Bo the Bomber. But whether Bo or Beau, he was still our hero.

As years always do, they passed and as boys always do, I grew. And like my Uncle beau, I didn’t grow tall but I grew into a pretty nice body. Unlike my Uncle Beau, I had no intention of putting on a pair of boxing gloves. If I had ever been called on to defend myself, I would have failed miserably, I’m sure.

When I started my senior year of high school I’d decided my future lay in 3D and digital graphic design. I set my sights on the Ringling College of Art and Design in Sarasota. My eighteenth birthday came and I was looking forward to graduation.

Then we got some news that shoved all my concentration on my near future onto the back burner. Uncle Beau was coming home to train for a fight that was to be held at the local arena. The news made the front page of the Daily Tribune, not just the sports section.

I can’t say why, but for some reason that I didn’t question, it was decided that he would stay with us for the week he’d be here. I would have thought that he’d be sealed up in a hotel room, or at least that he’d stay in his old room at Grandma’s.

It was never clear why it came down to us. Aunt Callista and Uncle Roman had two little kids so that probably knocked them out of the running. Uncle Cullen’s health was pretty bad due to smoking cigars and Aunt Myrtle’s hands were full with that.

Uncle Nordin was the obvious choice, so I don’t know why he came to us, especially since we didn’t have an extra bed, let alone a guest room.

So you can see where this is going. It was clear I was going to “have to” share my bed with Uncle Beau. Note my quotes.

When he was told the situation he didn’t seem the least bit fazed. In fact, he simply inquired if that was okay with me. Well, he was still my idol, and so, of course, it was okay. It was going to be for two weeks, which I’d have two weeks to get to know my somewhat famous uncle better. Maybe we could even bond, as they say.

The thing is, he’d changed in some ways which is to be expected in six years. He wasn’t a boy any longer. He was an experienced young man who had been around a lot of tough guys for several years. But in some ways, he was still pure, in that he lived a clean life and didn’t appear to have any vices.

It goes without saying that I’d changed too. I was no longer a naive, twelve-year-old kid.

The first night, after he’d spent the day catching up with the family and dinner at Grandma’s followed by chatting with Mom and Dad, we got in bed. It was a little uncomfortable at the beginning because it was sort of like sharing your bed with a stranger, but that didn’t last long. Besides, I was star struck.

Before we got in bed Uncle Beau stripped down to his shorts before going to the bathroom to shower. I’d gone to the kitchen for a glass of water and when I returned he’d come from the bathroom and had gotten in bed. I, of course, got a good look at his great body and wondered if I could develop mine to be the same.

We talked for a while but he said it had been a long day and he was worn out and had to report to the gym early the next morning. We settled down and before I knew it I was sound asleep.

The next day was a school day, and except for my telling everybody I talked to about my famous uncle staying with us, it was the same as every other day.

The second night I was in bed when he came into the room. We began talking about who knows what as he stripped down to his shorts, then he stripped those off, too. He didn’t seem the least bit shy about my seeing him in all his glory, and boy, did I look.

His dick was twice as long as mine, I swear, swinging free. He cracked open the door and peeked out to make sure the coast was clear and trotted to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later he came back in the bedroom drying his hair.

He lifted each muscled arm and dried his armpits, all the while making casual conversation. I was having trouble concentrating on what he was saying. He dried his balls and between his legs and I almost lost it. He’d asked me a question and I was staring at him with my mouth hanging open.

He looked at me and said, “Hey, wake up Sport.”

He snapped the towel at me and laughed. He turned his back and hung the towel over the back of the desk chair. From the back, he was almost as beautiful as from the front. Who knew you could have an ass like that?

He went to the door and turned off the overhead light, casting the room into complete darkness. Next, I felt the covers drawn back and the bed sag as he got in. My mind swirled as I wondered if he’d had time to put on a clean pair of shorts, or had he gotten in bed butt naked?

That night I was still awake when I heard Uncle Beau’s breathing grow deep and knew he was asleep. I slid over as near to the edge of the bed and as far from Uncle Beau as I could. I was panicked that I might roll over during the night and lay against him. What would he think?

Every day I took a class after school was out for extra credit, but the fourth day of Uncle Beau’s visit the class was canceled. A couple of those days he’d gotten home later in the evening, and twice he’d arrived at the same time I did. On this day I noticed the door was unlocked. I went in and dropped my backpack just inside the door.

I kicked my shoes off, as was my custom, and went into the bathroom to take a piss. I shook my dick and tucked everything away. I washed my hands and splashed water on my face, running my wet hands through my hair. I went down the hall to my bedroom, wondering why Mom had closed the door.

I opened the door and froze. Uncle Beau was lying on the bed, naked, with his now erect and bigger dick in his fist which was flying up and down. He looked at me with shock on his face.

My reaction wasn’t what I would have predicted if you’d asked me.

I almost shouted, “Don’t stop!”

He gasped out. “I can’t stop. Too late.”

Globs of white jizz shot out of his piss hole and rose a foot high in the air before they fell back onto his rippled stomach. Even after I thought he was through a few more spurts came out and covered the head of his dick.

When it was all over he looked at me with a grin on his mouth and a frown between his eyes.

“God, Tate, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you home so early.”

“Class was canceled,” I explained as if it was necessary.

His dick had gone mostly soft and he lay there with his hand on top as if trying to hide it, but there was still plenty exposed.

“You know, being in training and on the road doesn’t give me time to make out with the ladies, plus I don’t much care for the ones who make themselves so easily available. I mean, anything worth having you have to work for.”

He stopped and waited like that took care of everything, but had second thoughts.

“So I hafta take care of things once in a while.”

He stopped again. After a couple of seconds, he lifted his hand and looked at the cum that was beginning to gel.

I spoke up. “Wait a minute,”

I turned and went out of the bedroom and to the bathroom. I opened the faucet and waited until the water was hot. I dampened a washcloth and rang it out. I went back to the bedroom.

Uncle Beau saw what I had and held out his hand.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Let me,” I said.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and took his hand and wiped his cum from it. I then wiped off his stomach and went down to his flaccid dick. He watched my hand as it cleaned him off. I have no idea what thoughts were going through his head. As I wiped all sides of his dick he looked up at my face.

“You keep doin’ that and it’ll get hard again.”

“Well,” I said, “I want you to show me how to do what you were doing.”

He looked at me with an expression of disbelief.

“What? Beat off? You’re what, seventeen and you don’t know how to beat off? You’re kiddin’ me.”

I chuckled. “Eighteen, and no, I know how, but you do it different. I want you to show me your way.”

He took my wrist and lifted my hand.

“That’s enough.”

He lay my hand and the washcloth on my leg.

“I don’t know what I do that’s different, but if you need instruction I’m glad to help. But not now. I ain’t got nothing left. We’ll have to wait.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Sorry buddy, but tomorrow is the last day of training and day after is my fight. I have to save all my strength.”

That meant his time with us was coming to an end. He was leaving the morning after fight day. I was really going to be sad to see him go.

The next day he’d made it clear what his routine was going to be like and I respected that. His whole mind was set on the approaching fight and I made no attempt to interfere. He was asleep when I carefully climbed into bed that night.

I was all pumped up at school the next day with the knowledge that the whole family was going to see our Beau fight that night. I practically couldn’t eat dinner, but I got it down and we piled in the car, picked up Grandma and Grandad and headed to the arena.

I won’t go into the details of the fight, but suffice it to say that Grandma almost fainted and had to be taken outside, my dad and all my uncles yelled their heads off, I bit my fingernails to the quick and Mom said: “Never again.”

Uncle Bo won! And he didn’t have any busted lips or bruises. He was the winning hero. We waited for him after the fight and we all went to an Italian restaurant and both Grandma and I drank wine. Everybody hugged Uncle Beau good-bye and insisted he come home to visit soon.

We went home and things quieted down at Mom’s insistence. Everyone got ready for bed. Uncle Beau said he had to use the bathroom and I went into the bedroom and got out of my clothes as fast as I could. I got on the bed and played with myself trying to get an erection as quickly as possible.

I succeeded and began jerking off. Uncle Beau opened the door and closed it before he looked in my direction. He laughed.

“You scamp.” It was a word Grandma used all the time. “You really meant it, I guess.”

“Of course I did. Your fights over, so you don’t have any excuse. So get naked and show me how you do it.”

I lay there holding my dick as I watched him get out of his clothes. It was something I could watch over and over. He lay down beside me and wrapped his fist around his dick which was already beginning to grow hard.

“Okay, my man, what is it you want to see?”

“Well, the other night you weren’t holding it that way. You had your hand turned the other way, sort of upside down.”

“Oh, like this?”

He turned his hand over so that his thumb and index finger were at the base of his dick.

“Yeah, why do you do it like that?”

Truth is, I do it both ways. I seem to usually start the way you’re holding yours and then switch when I get close to shooting. Can’t say why, really, but this is the way Nordin showed me how to beat off.”

My jaw dropped. “Uncle Nordin taught you how to jerk off?”

Uncle Beau laughed. “Yeah, we were the ones always gettin’ into trouble. Or usually I was the one gettin’ into trouble and he was gettin’ me out. Anyhow, he showed me how he beat off and I copied him.”

I thought that was the hottest thing I’d ever heard, a big brother teaching his younger brother how to jerk off. And the thought that as my Uncle Nordin. It certainly changed the way I looked at Uncle Nordin from that time on.

We were lying there, side by side, almost touching, our hard dicks in our fists. I squeezed mine and some pre-cum oozed out.

Uncle Beau turned his head and looked at me.

“What now? Do we go to sleep or do we finish this?”

“Are you serious?” I asked with a laugh.

I began jerking off with a vengeance as if it was the last time I’d ever do it and I only had five minutes.

“Woah,” Uncle Beau said. “Enjoy the moment.”

He began and I followed his lead, going faster when he did, slowing when he did, spitting on it when he did, picking up speed when he did, flipping my fist over when he did.

For some reason he let his cock slip from his fist. I looked at his dick and let mine slip from my grip but reached over and rewrapped my fist around his big fat dick.

“Good boy,” he hissed and grabbed mine.

We jerked each other’s dick, both of us breathing hard. I thought maybe this was my new Uncle Bo.

I couldn’t say which was more thrilling, feeling his dick in my hand or having his hand on my dick. Both of them together set me off and I shot out my cum, it spurting up a few inches and running down all over Uncle Beau’s fist and my cock.

“Shit,” he whispered, but not because he was disgusted with my cum.

It was because his cum shot out too, going up three times as high as mine did, and shooting three times as much, or so it seemed to me.

When no more came out he let out a deep breath and relaxed. He looked at my dick and his fist and then turned his whole body in my direction. I did the same thing just because I was imitating him. He pushed his hips forward and put his dick head against mine. He moved his hand down to the base and so did...