The thing about Uncle John that always stuck out to me was his friendliness.
He always seemed miles happier than Dad, and even though Pop was always there for me and made me feel safe, Uncle John would still have him beat in a nice guy competition. His smile was electric and kind. His body was brawny but soft. He was educated and well-spoken. It was clear to me why Dad always felt somewhat competitive with him and Pop always considered him the golden child.
While Dad was a college football star like Pop, Uncle John forged his own path as a wrestling champ. I couldn't count how many times I used to stare at one photo Pop displayed on his living room mantle, where Uncle John wore the tightest singlet you can imagine.
His thick brows pressed down on his hazel eyes, and a devious grin brought out his famous dimples. Below, each inch of his college cock was outlined plainly, and while no one else ever seemed to notice it, that bulge would appear in my pre-teen wet dreams on a regular basis.
Uncle John was still the buff and playful dude in that photo.
Growing up, I'd envy the way he'd wrestle with my cousin Eric, both of them laughing as their bodies intertwined, until eventually, Eric would end up pinned underneath his dad's meaty weight, yelping from under Uncle John's arm to be set free.
On the nights my mind would bring Uncle John into my dreams, it always seemed to be a scenario in which I was the one pinned onto the floor, my face pressing into Uncle John's armpit and my legs restrained by his bulky biceps.
The morning I walked into his practice, he lit up in his white coat, a stereotypical stethoscope hanging from his neck, resting over his built chest.
I always thought it was so cool seeing Uncle John at work. Dr. John was so buttoned up and professional, such a mature version of the twenty-something I'd seen the week earlier, in that photo from Dad's nightstand drawer, his younger naked body exposed to the sun beside Dad's.
As quickly as the image of Uncle John's cock came into my mind, I blinked out of it. This was my new job. Family "man time" would be one thing -- if it ever happened with Uncle John -- but here at work, I just wanted to impress him.
"There he is!" he smiled, proudly introducing me to his receptionists as his favorite nephew. He'd never say that if Kyle were here, but he always knew how to make me feel special, and he never hesitated to do it.
After the women at the front desk said their hellos, Uncle John took me through the office to show me the lay of the land. I reminded him that I'd been coming to his office since I was a boy. I'd practically seen every room in the place, other than the break room, which he explained was my "office" for the next six weeks.
He confessed that when Dad asked if I could do some work around the office for the summer, he didn't really have anything. He already had two receptionists, three medical assistants, and a custodian who did all the cleaning. "So basically, young man, you're Uncle John's personal assistant this summer. Coffee runs, errands, maybe filling in at the front desk to let the ladies off early every once in a while." Uncle John motioned toward the empty break room. "If you're not on a task, you can hang out here. I don't think we need to overwork you before college. Sound good?"
I nodded. It sounded like the easiest summer job in the world, getting paid to come hang out at Uncle John's office all day.
The hours went by as quickly as I expected.
By the time I knew it, the receptionists and assistants went home, and the cleaning staff was still a few hours away from coming in.
As Uncle John worked on a computer in one of the examination rooms, I lounged on the big reclined patient chair beside him, scrolling on my phone. "Wait, is this right?" Uncle John asked, nudging the computer screen toward me. "Did you miss your physical last year?"
I shrugged. I'd been so busy trying to get through my last year of high school, I must have forgotten to come in, and for whatever reason, Dad forgot to make me. "Guess I spaced it."
"Not good, man. We need to keep an eye on this body of yours. Make sure you're good to go. Especially now," Uncle John smiled and rested his hand on my leg. "You're a Hudson. We can't send you off to college without making sure you're nice and healthy."
"Okay," I said, rolling my eyes. "Tomorrow I'll ask the ladies up front to put me on your schedule."
Uncle John rolled his stool over to the door, softly pushing it closed it until he heard a click. He looked at the clock. "No need to schedule," he grinned, his dimples still visible under his brown scruff. "We're family."
He got up pushed the dispenser next to the sink, squirting sanitizer into his palms. He rubbed his hands together and told me to put my phone away and sit up.
I slid my phone into my pocket and lifted myself up. As soon as I sat up straight, a million thoughts raced through my head. Was Uncle John giving me this physical now, alone in the office, on purpose? Had Dad or Pop told him about what we'd done? Were we about to have man time?
Or was this going to be like every other physical Uncle John gave me, where he said we could "skip the guy part" if I would be more comfortable, and I'd nod that I'd rather keep my clothes on?
"Let's start with the questionnaire. Okay. Let's see... We have all your allergy stuff. Great... No medications. Great... Okay... Here we go... In the last year, have you started drinking alcohol?"
I shook my head. Sure, I'd guzzled down a couple beers at a few parties. But not enough to warrant Uncle John's lectures about the harmful effects of alcohol on a developing young man.
"Good boy," he winked. "Alright. In the last year, have you started using tobacco, marijuana, or any other substances?"
I shook my head again. Cigarettes grossed me out. And just like the beer, any amount of pot I'd smoked at parties wasn't worth mentioning.
"That's what I like to hear," said Uncle John, clicking down a column of boxes on his screen. "Alright, kind of a weird question, but I have to ask... In the last year, have you been sexually active?"
The moment of truth. I hesitated to answer. Not only had I become sexually active, but in the last month both Dad and Pop had penetrated both ends of me. Not to mention my first time fucking anyone had just occurred that one afternoon at Pop's when he let his ass sink onto my throbbing dick in his bed.
For some reason, I felt unsure Uncle John knew anything about it. I shook my head.
"No sex?" Uncle John asked, perplexed. "A strapping young buck like you? Are you sure you're not just embarrassed? Come on, you can talk to your Uncle John. I bet you've gotten a little frisky with at least a few girls by now."
Suddenly, I was even more sure he hadn't heard what Dad and Pop had done with me. And on top of that, why would Uncle John ask if I've been girls? Apparently in my family we still weren't talking about the fact that I was gay.
