When you're in your early 20s, gay, and trying to establish a new life in the real world, away from your family... well, Thanksgiving can be difficult. It was made marginally less difficult for me by my uncle Neil, who's always been my favorite. And now he was one of my favorite people in the world, since he had the balls to come out to the family shortly before I did. He said he'd wasted too much time caring what people think, so he was living openly now at the age of fifty. I'd admired him, looked up to him, for my entire life.
So when he texted me and suggested that I buck up and come to Thanksgiving dinner, I was finally convinced. Seeing him across my grandmother's table that evening, sipping red wine, smiling and chatting, made it all a lot easier. He was such a handsome man- his hair and beard were mostly gray now. The lines around his eyes that creased up when he smiled gave away his age, but he could still pass for forty. He was in such great shape, and liked to wear tight t-shirts that showed off his muscular arms.
I won't go into too many details about Thanksgiving. My Republican aunt Rhea had a few too many glasses of wine and talked pretty openly about politics in a way that assumed we all agreed with her, and I was ready to interject and start an argument but uncle Neil stopped me, muttering "not worth it, kiddo" under his breath. He was right, after all. Aunt Rhea wouldn't change. Having a gay brother and a gay nephew made her no less against gay marriage. My sister dating a black guy drove no wedge in her racist attitudes. Our greatest weapon was to ignore her until and talk about other things until she let it go. Still, it irked me, and if it hadn't been for uncle Neil it could have gotten ugly. With his presence, I didn't feel my back up against the wall.
In the end, I was happy to have seen everyone, even aunt Rhea. I gave them all hugs before I got in my old beat-up car to go home. The hug from uncle Neil made me feel so warm and happy. I could smell his cologne on his neck, feel his short prickly beard brush against my cheek.
I'll be honest, once I got back to my dinky little apartment, I really needed to blow off steam. I headed straight for my computer to start looking through miles of porn feeds especially curated to show me older men. I didn't know if uncle Neil was the start of that obsession for me, but tonight he'd really fed it. Most of the strong, burly, grey-haired porn stars that looked out at me from Twitter were labeled "Daddy" but it was never about any fatherly interest for me.
My hand and some lube weren't enough for me tonight though, and soon I'd dug one of my more moderate-sized dildos out of my drawer and was sliding it in and out of my hole in slow, deep strokes. Before long I'd dropped my dick and was using both hands to bang myself with that silicone cock, my fantasies turning as they usually did to bottoming. I paused the pounding of my hole only to scroll further in my feed and find the next fantasy. Fuck, I needed to find myself a boyfriend before I got too used to this.
The next post in the scroll, however, stopped me dead in my tracks.
The video I was looking at was still paused in its starting moment, waiting for me to click play or move on. I stared at that little thumbnail, heart pounding, trying hard to convince myself that there had to be some explanation for what I was seeing.
The scene looked to be in a nice, clean, modern kitchen. The man to the left side of the frame was a young porn actor I'd seen before, a twink named Jeff something. The guy looked like he could be a high school junior, but of course age verification for porn studios was pretty strict. I'd seen him in a lot of videos that fell into the incest fetish category, mostly playing opposite the same older guy who pretended to be his father. Jeff's face was all over the porn side of social media now, so I figured he must be pretty successful.
The guy on the right, however, looked so much like my uncle. I looked over his features, again and again, trying to convince myself that it wasn't him. But that square jaw, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes... it was hard to deny it. In that frozen frame he was shirtless, wearing only jeans. I'd never seen him with his chest hair trimmed like it was in that shot, but I'd seen him nude a few times at the swimming pool and that certainly looked like his body. Beautiful arms, strong pecs, a little furry but not too much. Whoever this was, he worked out as much as my uncle did.
Finally, I worked up the courage to press play.
Jeff the twink sprung to life, approaching the man who looked exactly like my uncle.
"Are you sure this is okay, uncle Daryl?"
"Sure, kiddo. Nobody's home. You're safe, I'll take good care of you." Damn if that didn't sound exactly like my uncle.
"Well... okay." Jeff walked into his arms, and uncle Daryl held him in a way very similar to how my Uncle Neil would hold me sometimes, but this was far more erotically charged. Uncle Daryl put a gentle finger under Jeff's chin and lifted his face up to look at him sweetly for a moment, before moving in for a kiss.
I took a deep inhale as he kissed that boy. It was passionate, smooth, and powerful. He had that same masculine swagger that my own uncle Neil had. I found my hand slowly starting to slide the dildo in and out of me again.
Then he took off Jeff's shirt. I'm not especially into twinks, but seeing the distinct difference between their bodies was kind of exciting in its own way. Porn star uncle Daryl was a good six inches taller than little Jeff and about twice as broad. He looked at least twice his age, too. He grabbed Jeff and held him close, his hard chest pushed up against Jeff's lithe, smooth body. Another kiss, this time with tongue, a little sloppy and a little showy in a way that I wasn't sure would feel so great in real life but was so hot to watch in a video.
Then, an edit. A cut to a different camera angle. I let out a groan of recognition. Any pretense that I wasn't watching my actual uncle was stripped away by the camera angle that showed the small kanji tattoo on his upper back. But still, I didn't press pause. I couldn't bring myself to stop the video, although the rational part of my mind kept screaming that I had to turn it off, that this wasn't right. That voice was far in the background though. My left hand continued absent-mindedly slow-fucking the dildo in and out of me as my right hand found the mouse, maximized the video, and turned the volume up.
