I was nervous about running into mom or dad after PART ONE and PART TWO of this saga.
In my head, mom and dad would look at me and KNOW what had happened the night before-- ex-con Uncle Joe jackhammering my tight twink hole--his salty sweat dripping from his face onto my cheek and into my mouth... and guttural, animalistic groans as he picked up the rhythm before exploding inside me and collapsing on my back.
Ugh, so hot yet so confusing...
The morning after PART TWO, I woke up super late... like noon.
I guess that's what happens when you were up all night being plowed by your ex-con uncle 'til 3:30 am. By the time I'd awakened Uncle Joe was gone to work or one of his court-required classes already, and mom and dad were out and about as well.
Normally I'd take time home alone to rub one off in peace without worrying about mom or dad coming in my room to interrupt me, but I wasn't even thinking about masturbating--I'd been sexually satisfied for the first time in my life.
While I totally enjoyed being manhandled and fucked by Uncle Joe, I felt guilty.
Was I taking advantage of him when he's drunk??? And the fact that he's my mom's brother--I was thinking wayyy too much.
It was Saturday so I had to pick up Uncle Joe that evening from the courthouse for one of his meetings.
As usual I parked up front in my cute little Ford Focus and scrolled tiktok and Instagram until his group was let out.
As he walked toward the car, I could sense how awkward he probably felt about this whole thing.
There was Uncle Joe wearing that same stained, faded Pepsi t-shirt again with his biceps bursting out of the short sleeves and his pecs distorting the logo. His shiny bald head and toothie grin with one of his front teeth missing.
He had this nervous look on his face as he approached, and with his 6'4" 220 pound frame, he basically has to stuff himself in the front seat whenever he gets in.
"How's it going, Chadwick?" he asked nervously... and without the usual southern accent.
It was awkward AF...like, up to this point I was "Chaddy-bear," "Kiddo," or even "Chad," but somehow after coating his nephews insides with his thick gooey baby batter, there was some weird FORMALITY involved now.
"I'm good, how was class...and what's with this Pepsi t shirt you wear all the time?" I asked.
"Hey, it's still bullshit but it's better than being on a cell-block somewhere," he answered.
"Oh, and I can't really fit anyone else's clothes at the house so I'm kinda rotating the two or three that I have," he continued.
It seemed like right after that he loosened up a bit.
"Chadwick, I'm going to need your help getting on the internet to look for a place to move," he chimed in.
Apparently, he was going to use his first paycheck and a loan from mom to rent a room somewhere so he could get out of our hair.
Aside from mom's complaints about him leaving hair in her bathroom sink after shaving, he and dad had words a few times and he felt it was time to find a place closer to his job to keep tensions down.
By the time we got home mom was in the kitchen frying chicken and dad was in his usual spot--the recliner-- glued to some sports bullshit on the TV.
I did a few searches on Craigslist to look for rooms to rent, but Uncle Joe apparently has certain restrictions on where he can live due to the specifics of his conviction and parole requirements.
By the time we were sitting at the table to eat dinner it was awkward, but not because of the tension between Uncle Joe and I.
Mom and dad argued the entire time.
It started pretty simple but escalated over time.
Mom was angry because dad isn't around enough and she feels he doesn't love her anymore.
My dad is a truck driver, so he's away anywhere from one day to a couple of weeks at a time hauling to make a living. He's been doing this for like 5 years or so.
While he makes pretty good money, it's really starting to have an impact on their relationship.
I hurried and finished my food and headed to my room. From the looks of it Uncle Joe was doing the same.
He'd always eaten his food really fast, and often with his bare hands.
I assume this is the way it's done in prison where you don't get a lot of time at the table to eat. It was actually kinda sexy seeing him eat his food so aggressively.
Though my room is on the other side of the trailer, I could hear mom and dad arguing from their room until I finally fell asleep.
The next morning over breakfast I'd get news that would obviously change the trajectory of this whole arrangement and I'd surely get more nephew-uncle time with Uncle Joe who happened to be an ex-con.
Dad was going to take mom on his next cross-country truck driving trip and they were planning to spend a little time in Seattle along the way to spend more time together and "Invest" in their relationship.
This would leave me and Uncle Joe at the trailer home alone for a good three weeks or so without mom and dad.
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With mom and dad gone the first few days, things were pretty chill between Uncle Joe and I. From what I could tell he wasn't drinking anymore.
It became clear that without alcohol, he was either too nervous or too weirded out to try anything sexual with me--even though I was really throwing "it."
I'd walk around the house in my briefs that accentuated my round, muscular twink ass...
I'd lay on my stomach on the floor with my legs open while watching television when I knew he was around... I was doing everything I could to bait him again somehow.
I'd occasionally hear him jacking off while watching porn on his phone. I could hear both the sloshing and heavy breathing of him masturbating, and the sound of the women wailing in agony in the pornos.
With mom and dad gone I'd just let Uncle Joe take the car for his appointments even though mom specifically told me not to do so. It just made things easier than me dropping him off places, then having to go back and pick him up.
I wasn't the only one breaking mom's rules...
Late one night about 2AM I was awakened by the loud sound of sex.
It wasn't porn for sure.
I could hear the muffled sound of Uncle Joe's voice talking dirty--muffled tho. I couldn't exactly make out what he was saying.
...and the steady rhythm of the headboard ca-clack-ca-clack-ca-clack-ca-clack banging up against the wall in another room.
And the woman.
I could tell it was a woman because of her muffled screams...screams muffled probably by a tight headlock like the one he had me in not too long ago.
This went on for like 5 minutes straight and I just had to get up to get a better listen.
"Ca-clack-ca-clack-ca-clack-ca-clack" even louder went the headboard as I walked carefully from my room over to Uncle Joe's room in the trailer.
"Take this dick you dirty slut," he was saying as the squeaking of the mattress and "ca-clack-ca-clack" of the headboard kept its steady beat.
As I got closer I could see that his door was closed... DAMNIT!!!
But, laying on the floor I could see under the bottom of his door, and it was a sight to see:
Uncle Joe's sweaty massive glutes and thighs pile-driving some woman---him on top of her as she lay face down, ass up for his enjoyment.
His muscled ass cheeks clapped ever so lightly as he continued with the stamina of an athlete.
It sounded as if the bed was about to break, and I don't see how any of this could be pleasurable for whatever woman was in there under him.
Then all of a sudden his breathing got heavier and he picked up the pace even more, and I knew what time it was...
He pulled out of her holding his massive uncut cock with his right hand as rope after heavy rope skeeted out of him.
He roared like a lion as he expressed the pleasure of his orgasm.
Each rope of his thick cock snot shooting in the air before falling on her or the bed.
As with me, he collapsed on top of her.
I crept back to my bed and jacked off to the amazing scene I'd just observed.
He spoke nothing of it the next morning as I walked out of my room to find him walking out with her. She, a strung-out meth-head looking woman with the apparent magic straight men die for, between her legs.
Uncle Joe hopped in the car to go drop her off, returning some 30 minutes later.
The next evening I returned home from the gym to find a barbecue pit going outside, and several cars in front of our trailer and under the carport.
What the hell was going on?
As I got closer to the front door I could hear the chatter of several people inside.
OMG, Uncle Joe was throwing a house party--and without permission.
There was Uncle Joe, the woman I'd seen leaving earlier that morning, two other women who looked as if they hung in the same circle, and four guys.
"Hey everybody, this is my nephew Chad," Uncle Joe said as I walked through the living room.
What the hell was he doing?
It was one thing to fuck some skank while mom and dad were out, but to throw a fucking house party?
There was no way we were going to get away with this, especially since our neighbors are nosey AF and likely already texting mom with the details of the trailer park circus going on at our home.
"Uncle Joe, we need to talk," I said to him and walked toward my room.
He walked toward me.
"I know, I know, I'm not supposed to be doing any of this but your parents are away and my buddy skins just made parole and was released today. I figured we'd have a little hoe-down and have everything all nice and tidy before your mom and dad got home," he explained.
He reeked of beer.
Cheap beer.
The malt liquor they sell by the tall can at the gas station on ice by the checkout counter.
"Come on out here and hang out with me and my friends, I promise we won't make a mess or cause any trouble. Please kiddo?" he asked.
"Okay," I thought and decided to give it a shot.
I've always felt a little uneasy in "straight" spaces.
It feels like I'm the only gay amongst all the straights, and that they all know.
Just this awkward feeling.
Anyway, I plopped down at the end of the sofa near a guy I'd later learn was named "Skins" and was the "guest of honor" having just been released.
Apparently he and Uncle Joe were housed at the same prison and met there while incarcerated.
Skins, like Uncle Joe, was a site to behold.
