Uncle Sal

 

Visiting My Uncle Sal 

 

Whenever mom and dad decided to head up the mountain to gamble in Reno, they would usually leave my sister with the neighbors and their daughters and took me to my Uncle Sal's place. It was about 20 miles up the hill from home and on their way, so it was convenient, and I liked staying with him. Uncle Sal was my uncle from my mom's side of the family; someone I had grown up with and who always treated me like I was special.

Uncle Sal was a little younger than my parents. Sure, he was an adult, but he was still enough of a kid to make me feel like I fit in with him, which helped to foster the closeness I felt with him; a near-perfect mix between paternal figure and pal.

It was hard not to like Uncle Sal. He was tall with a mop of curly blond hair and the most infectious laugh. He was quick with the jokes, and generous with horseplay and hugs, even as I grew into my teens. His hands and arms were huge, but always gentle. He rode a motorcycle whenever the weather was good and, despite my mom's protests, eventually taught me how to ride too.

Wesley TikTok

 Wesley

Gym Locker Room

 Monster Dick Selfie

Orenivan03 - TikTok

 

Orenivan03 [Orenivan]

My Morning Wood

Blowing My Sister's Boyfriend

Marc walked into the bathroom as I was sitting on the toilet trying to rub one out. I covered myself just in time before he saw what I was doing.

"What the fuck?!" I objected.

Marc Washington

"Fuck you!" He said flipping me off. "You've been in here forever," he added. "I gotta get ready for work and all my shits in here."

I looked down at the bulge in his underwear. He smirked and grabbed himself and squeezed.

"Happy pride month," he said, calling me a slur without having too.

Igor Silva TikTok

Igor Silva [isilvasouzaa]

 

My Straight Buddy

 

Reconnecting With My Straight Buddy

I still think about Calvin sometimes.

 

It's been over fifteen years now, but even here in my mid-thirties, I remember that summer with such clarity and warmth.

 

This was back in 2005 - Bush had just started his second term, the world was mourning the Pope, and I had Mariah Carey's The Emancipation of Mimi on constant rotation as I flew home for summer break.

 

I'd just wrapped up junior year at UCLA, and my dad had come through with a summer internship hookup. Some friend of his ran a tech company that made microchips or something - honestly, I wasn't paying much attention to the details. I was just grateful to have summer plans when everyone else was bragging about their amazing internships and I had nothing lined up.

 

My phone buzzed the moment I landed. I flipped it open to find a text from a number I didn't recognize.

 

Hey dude, how's it going? It's Calvin Jones. Heard ur back in town.

 

Calvin Jones? Now that was a name I hadn't heard in years. We'd been tight back in junior high, but you know how it goes - people drift apart. I remembered him as this sweet, chunky kid with pale skin and hair that was always a little too greasy. He had this thing about always smelling faintly of cheese, and I wondered what had prompted him to reach out after all this time. How had he even gotten my number?

 

Hi Calvin! Yeah, I'm back, just landed actually. What's up? Nice to hear from you.

 

I pocketed my phone and headed through customs. While waiting at baggage claim, another text came through.

 

Came across ur MySpace page and saw that ur in UCLA. That's rad, man. Wanna catch up? I'm free this weekend.

 

I'll admit, I felt a little skeptical. Random texts from old junior high friends usually meant someone was selling something - Tupperware, makeup, insurance. But Calvin had always been genuinely nice, and I've never been good at saying no to people. Besides, it might be fun to catch up.

We arranged to meet Saturday morning at Javier's Cafe, this popular brunch spot known for having the best eggs benedict in town. I'd gotten spoiled by LA's unpredictable traffic, so I arrived about fifteen minutes early and snagged an outdoor table where Calvin could easily spot me.