The Day My Uncle Discovered My Secret When He Came Back

The big house where my mother and I lived stood on an old street in the center of town, one of those blocks that still kept wooden balconies and tiles worn smooth by decades of footsteps. It was a two-story building, with long hallways and high ceilings that creaked when the south wind blew. My mother had inherited it from my grandfather and, since a secretary’s salary wasn’t enough to maintain it on her own, she had decided to rent out the five rooms on the upper floor to students who came from the interior looking for a university degree.

I had just turned eighteen and my name was Esteban. To everyone else, I was a quiet, studious boy, the kind who goes unnoticed in class and heads straight home after lessons. My mother was proud of me every time a neighbor told her she had an exemplary son. If she had known what I did as soon as the house was empty, she would never have been able to look me in the face again.

My secret had begun almost by accident, two years earlier, when I went upstairs looking for a tool and walked into a tenant’s room without permission after he had gone to campus. I saw a pair of white briefs lying beside the bed and, driven by a curiosity I couldn’t explain at the time, I picked them up off the floor and brought them to my face. The smell hit me. A man’s smell, concentrated sweat, a sweaty cock after being trapped in fabric all day, something intimate I shouldn’t have been smelling. I felt a hot rush sliding down my stomach into my groin, my dick went rock hard at once against the seam of my pants, and for the first time in my life I realized this wasn’t just some passing whim.

From that afternoon on, whenever I knew an attractive tenant would be away for a few hours, I stole my mother’s key ring from the dining room cabinet and went upstairs. I always looked for the same thing: used underwear, left on a chair or tossed into the wicker hamper in the shared bathroom. Some briefs still held the day’s dampness. Others had yellow stains in front, traces of piss the owner hadn’t bothered to rinse away. Those were the ones I liked best. I pressed them against my nose, breathed in deeply the smell of a man’s cock, pulled my pants down to my knees and jerked off sitting on the edge of a stranger’s bed, my hard dick in my fist, imagining what it would be like to have that man on top of me, burying it deep in my ass without mercy.

I never took anything with me. I always left every garment exactly as I found it, folded the same way, in the same angle, with the same wrinkle. I cleaned my cum off the floor with toilet paper, flushed the paper down the downstairs toilet, and swore to myself that this had been the last time. A week later I’d go back up again.

***

My uncle Hernán’s arrival completely changed the balance of my little game. Hernán was my mother’s younger brother and had spent eleven years living in Spain, first as a waiter in a bar in Málaga, then as the foreman at a mechanic’s shop on the outskirts of Seville. I had seen him in person only once, when I was nine, at Aunt Mariela’s wedding. Back then he was a distant man, just another uncle among the many relatives you greet with a quick kiss and forget until the next wedding.

But at fourteen I started realizing I liked men more than women. And I also started following Hernán on social media. My mother had video calls with him on Sundays, and I always managed to pass behind the screen and look at him. Hernán had skin weathered by the sun, broad shoulders, and a permanent stubble shadow that carved out his jaw. His hands had grown thick and a little clumsy after so many years tightening wrenches. In the photos he posted on Instagram he was always wearing old tank tops and worn jeans, and in one of those pictures the bulge of his cock was so clearly outlined against the denim that I saved it to my phone and jerked off to it for months. He was exactly the kind of man who appeared in my fantasies when I went upstairs to look for other people’s underwear.

When my mother told us one night at dinner that Hernán was coming back to the country and would be staying with us for a couple of months until he found work, I could barely eat. I told her that sounded fine, that I hoped he’d be comfortable here. That night I jerked off three times in a row thinking about him, cock in hand, imagining myself on my knees sucking my own uncle’s dick until he came all over my face.

***

Hernán arrived on a Tuesday in March, with two large suitcases and a leather bag slung over his shoulder. He hugged my mother for a long time in the entryway, talking to her in that half-Andalusian Spanish he’d picked up on the other side of the Atlantic. When he saw me, he let go, looked me up and down, and gave a hoarse laugh.

—Well, look how big you’ve gotten, nephew. I left you in shorts and now I find a little gentleman.

He gave me a tight hug. I felt his firm body, his broad chest, his groin brushing my hip for a second. He smelled of blond tobacco and the cheap cologne they sell in airports. When he let me go, I had to turn away so he wouldn’t see my red face or the bulge that had already started in my pants.

My mother offered him the largest room on the second floor, the only one with its own bathroom. Hernán unpacked that same afternoon and by nightfall he was settled in as if he’d never left. During dinner he talked nonstop about the years in Spain, the women he’d been with, the plans he had to set up a business here. I watched him in silence, not daring to speak, while wondering how I was going to wait for the first chance when he left the house.

The opportunity appeared just three days later.

***

It was Saturday afternoon. My mother had gone to the supermarket, as she always did on Saturdays, and Hernán had come down into the living room wearing an ironed shirt, smelling of cologne, telling me he was meeting a coffee date with a girl from the neighborhood he hadn’t seen since adolescence. He winked at me as he passed and told me not to wait for him for snacks. The front door shut with a dull bang. The house was completely empty.

I took the stairs two at a time. My heart was hammering against my ribs and my cock was already half hard before I even reached the hallway. Hernán’s bedroom door wasn’t locked, as almost always. I pushed it open slowly and went in.

The room smelled like him. Like his cologne, the leather of his bag, something deeper that was the smell of his body after three nights in that bed. The bed was unmade. The white sheets still held the shape of his back, a long imprint stretching from the pillow to halfway down the mattress. On the chair in the corner there was a damp towel and, on top of the towel, a crumpled pair of briefs.

They were cheap briefs, the kind sold three for a bargain in small-town stores, with a wide elastic band and electric-blue fabric. Even after living so many years in Europe, Hernán still wore that rough, no-frills underwear that outlined everything he had underneath in detail. I picked them up with both hands. They were still a little warm, as if he’d taken them off only a few hours earlier. I turned them over to find the front.

The smell was dense. Much stronger than any I’d smelled in that house before. A smell of crotch sweat, mature male skin, traces of dried urine, a man’s balls after being trapped in fabric for hours. The area where the tip of his cock had rested had a dried yellowish spot and, a little lower, a tiny hard white stain that could only be a forgotten drop of semen. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, stuck out my tongue and licked that white stain until it dissolved in my mouth, tasting the salty, thick remains of my uncle’s cum. My legs went weak. I sat first on the edge of the bed, then let myself fall back onto the rumpled sheets.

I pulled my pants down to my knees. My cock was already leaking pre-cum from the tip, taut against my belly. I pressed the briefs against my nose and mouth, inhaled deeply, and started jerking off with my uncle’s smell filling my lungs. I rubbed the fabric over my face, my lips, my tongue. I sucked on the spot where the tip of his dick had been. With my other hand I shoved two fingers into my ass, spit-wet, knuckle deep, imagining it was Hernán doing it. I imagined my uncle walking into the room, finding me there with my fingers buried in my hole, grabbing my neck, flipping me face down on the bed, spitting between my cheeks and driving his cock into me in one thrust without lube, doing to me what I had never even dared to ask for out loud. The fantasy took me so deep I didn’t hear the front door. I didn’t hear the footsteps on the stairs. I heard nothing until the doorknob turned.

Hernán walked into the room.

***

I sprang upright, pulled my fingers out of my ass and yanked my pants up as best I could, but we both knew it was too late. Hernán stood in the doorway, one hand resting on the frame, looking at me with a calm that scared me more than any shout. He saw the briefs thrown on the pillow. He saw the bulge still outlined in my groin. He saw the wet stain of my own pre-cum on the denim. Then he closed the door behind him without hurry and slid the latch.

—And what do we have here, nephew?

No sound came out. My face was burning, my hands shaking, the briefs still lying beside the bed. I tried to invent an excuse, to say I was putting things away, that I’d seen them on the floor when I passed by, but the words died in my throat in a stammer that meant nothing.

—Relax —he said, stepping closer—. Sit down. I’m not going to eat you.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my feet. He remained standing in front of me.

—Please, Uncle. Don’t tell my mother. I swear I’ll never do it again…

—Wait, wait. Who said anything about your mother?

I lifted my head. Hernán was smiling. It wasn’t a smile of anger or mockery. It was something else. Something dirtier. I glanced down for a second and saw that a thick bulge was pressing against the seam of his pants too.

—I’ve been watching you for days, nephew. How you turn red when I come into the kitchen without a shirt. How your eyes drop to the bulge when I walk around the hallway in my underwear. How you freeze up when I pass by you. I’m no fool. I already figured something weird was going on.

I swallowed. My throat was so dry it hurt.

—I’m not going to tell my sister anything —he went on, lower now—. But in exchange, you’re going to behave yourself with me. Understand?

I nodded, not really knowing what I was agreeing to. Or knowing perfectly well and not wanting to admit it even to myself.

Hernán leaned toward me. He placed one hand on my knee and slowly slid it up the inside of my thigh until it brushed the bulge in my pants. With his other hand he lifted the blue briefs from the bed and tossed them aside.

—Instead of sneaking around smelling my things and sticking your fingers up your ass thinking about me, nephew, wouldn’t you rather give me a proper blowjob once and for all?

I looked at him without understanding. Or understanding too much, which was the same thing.

—What?

—You heard me. You like men, and you like this —he pressed his palm over my cock through the fabric— even if you don’t dare say it. That part’s crystal clear to me. And as it happens, my date canceled at the last minute, so I had the afternoon free and felt like unloading. If you come fill in for the lady who didn’t show up, I swear tomorrow I won’t remember a damn thing I saw in this room.

—But… my mother might be back —I muttered.

—What time did she leave?

—About half an hour ago.

—And how long does she take to do the shopping?

—An hour, more or less.

Hernán smiled again, with that wide crooked grin that made my skin prickle.

—We’ve got plenty of time for you to learn how to suck a cock like mine.

***

He stood up in front of me. Without breaking eye contact, he unbuckled his belt. The metallic sound of the buckle in the silence of the room made me clamp my thighs together. Then the button of his pants. Then the zipper, tooth by tooth, unhurried, stretching the moment. When he let the fabric fall to his ankles, he was wearing another pair of those cheap briefs underneath, this time dark green, bulging in the center in a way that left no doubt. The tip of his cock was pushing the fabric outward, making a thick lump, and a dark wet stain was spreading exactly where the head pressed.

—Take it out for me —he said—. With your teeth.

I knelt on the floor between his legs. I brought my face to his groin and breathed. The smell was the same one I’d been smelling in the briefs a few minutes earlier, only multiplied, alive, coming straight from the body. I bit the elastic of the briefs and pulled them down slowly. His cock bounced against my cheek when it was freed.

His dick was exactly as I’d imagined it all those months, only bigger. Big, thick, dark-skinned, surrounded by a heavy patch of black hair that climbed up to his navel. His balls hung heavy underneath, nearly brushing the inner sides of his thighs. The head was shiny, already awake, pointing forward, with a clear drop beading on the tip. I stared at it without being able to react, not knowing whether what I felt was fear, disgust, desire, or all three at once, but knowing with absolute certainty that I wanted it in my mouth right now.

—Stick out your tongue first —he said, gripping his cock at the base and tapping it gently against my lips—. Lick that drop. It’s the free sample.

I obeyed. I stuck out my tongue and licked the tip. The taste was salty, thick, slightly bitter. I cleaned my lips with my tongue and swallowed. Hernán smiled down at me, hands on his hips, looking at me the way you look at an animal you’ve just tamed.

—Now the balls. Put them in your mouth. One at a time.

He lifted his cock against his belly to give me room. The balls hung right in front of my face. I took one into my mouth. Then the other. I sucked them slowly, feeling the weight, the concentrated smell, the coarse hairs tickling my tongue. Hernán let out a long, satisfied groan.

—Good boy. Now the cock. Mouth wide open. And watch the teeth, nephew, or you’re going to have a bad time.

He took me by the nape with one firm hand, not violently but without asking permission, and brought my face to his groin. I opened my mouth. He slid it in little by little, first the fat head, which stretched my lips wider than I expected. Then a little more, until I felt it knocking against my palate. Then a little more still, all the way down my throat, until my eyes filled with tears. The concentrated smell of his body, the same one I had so often smelled on his clothes, was now hitting me directly in the nose, with the patch of black hair pressed against my face.

I started moving the way I had imagined in hundreds of lonely jerk-off sessions, awkward at first, finding rhythm afterward. I pulled the cock almost all the way out, let the head rest on my tongue, sucked it with my cheeks hollowed, and then pushed it back down my throat. Every time the tip struck my throat I gagged, but I forced myself to hold it. Saliva started running down my chin, my neck, soaking my T-shirt.

—Fuck —he muttered, throwing his head back—. You suck better than a lot of women. Look at me, nephew. Look at me while you suck my cock.

I lifted my eyes without taking it out of my mouth. Our gazes met and I felt his cock swell even more between my lips.

—There. That’s it. I like that. Take it out for a second and spit on it.

I pulled it out. I let a long thread of saliva fall from my mouth to the head. He grabbed it and spread it all over the shaft, coating it well.

—Now put your tongue under the frenulum. Right there, just underneath. Lick it like it’s ice cream.

I obeyed. I ran my broad, flat tongue under the head again and again while I worked the wet shaft with my hand. Hernán clenched his teeth and shoved his fingers into my scalp.

—Yes, yes, like that, suck that cock, nephew. That cock you liked smelling so much in the briefs.

He shoved it back into my mouth. This time he grabbed it with both hands and started moving himself, thrusting, fucking my mouth to his own rhythm. The tip hit the back of my throat again and again until I learned to relax and let it pass. His balls swung against my chin. Saliva poured from me in streams.

—Is this the first time you’ve done this, nephew?

I nodded without taking it out of my mouth.

—Lies. No way. You must’ve sucked one before.

I shook my head.

He gave a short, surprised laugh.

—Then you’re a natural talent. A born cock-sucking nephew. Keep going, come on, keep it up.

***

We stayed like that for almost ten minutes. Me kneeling on the floor, my knees aching against the boards, my jaw cramped and his cock going in and out without rest. He stood beside the bed, both hands on my head, setting the rhythm without softness, fucking my mouth as if it were a cunt. At times I heard him holding his breath. At times he murmured broken phrases in that Andalusian Spanish that had stuck to him: “that’s it, fuck,” “what a little mouth, you bastard,” “swallow my whole cock.” Every now and then he’d yank his dick out of my mouth and rub it all over my face, my cheeks, my nose, my closed eyes, smearing me with spit and pre-cum.

Without stopping fucking my mouth, he bent down a little and slid one hand under my pants. He fondled my hard cock, squeezing the whole thing in his fist. I moaned around his cock.

—You’ve got a hard little dick, nephew. Looks like you really love sucking cock.

He pulled it out of my mouth. My jaw was so tired it hurt to close it. Hernán grabbed my hair and guided my face toward his balls.

—Now the balls again. Suck them good while I work mine.

He jerked off at the level of my forehead, his spit-wet cock battering against my face while I sucked his balls, one at a time, then both together, dragging them to the back of my mouth. His breathing began to break. His hand moved faster and faster over his cock.

—Open your mouth, nephew. Open it wide. Stick out your tongue.

I did as he said. I stuck my tongue out as far as I could and waited, looking up at him from below. Hernán clenched his teeth, gripped himself harder, and let out a long, rough, animal groan. The first jet of semen hit my cheek, hot and thick. The second landed inside my mouth, on my tongue. The third, fourth and fifth filled my lips, my chin, my jaw, dripping down my neck. It was far more than I’d expected. A long, abundant release, held back for who knows how many days.

—Swallow it, bastard. All of it. Don’t leave a drop.

I closed my mouth and swallowed what I had inside. The semen went down thick, sticky, with a strong taste that clung to my palate. Then I ran a finger over my face, collected what had fallen outside, and sucked my finger in front of him. Hernán looked at me with his mouth slightly open, his cock still hard in his fist, shining with saliva and cum.

—Holy fuck, nephew. Holy fuck.

I stayed still for a few seconds, kneeling on the floor, looking at my hands, my knees aching and my own cock still hard and unloaded inside my pants. He stepped back and sat heavily on the edge of the bed.

He was breathing hard. His face was flushed and he had a new smile, different, satisfied. His cock hung between his legs, still semi-rigid, shining.

—Good boy —he said, ruffling my hair with his hand—. Very good boy.

He came up to me suddenly, slipped his hand inside my pants without asking, grabbed my hard dick and worked it three, four, five times with his hand tightly clenched. No more was needed. I came right there, with a muffled groan, unloading into my own briefs and soaking the fabric.

—You owed me that too, nephew. I couldn’t let you go off with your balls full.

He pulled his hand out, looked at it, wiped his fingers on the sheets of his own bed. He laughed.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my wrist. I didn’t know what to say. He stood up, pulled on his briefs and pants calmly, fastened his belt. My cum stain was still warm against my own thigh, inside the fabric.

—Go wash your face before your mother gets back. And change your briefs, because you’ve got a mess on you. Take the trash downstairs too, so it looks like you’ve been doing something useful.

I walked to the door like a sleepwalker. When my hand was on the knob, I heard him add behind me, in a low voice, almost to himself:

—This is just the beginning, nephew. Next time it won’t be only your mouth I use. I’m going to open your ass with this same cock, and I’m going to make it so worn out you won’t be able to sit for a week.

I went down the stairs trembling, with his cum still coating the back of my throat and mine drying on my skin. In the kitchen, I turned on the tap and washed my face twice, rinsed my mouth with cold water, spat. When my mother came back from the supermarket with the bags, she found me sitting at the table, reading a book upside down, not understanding a single word it said. She asked if I was feeling well. I told her yes.

Upstairs, on the second floor, I heard my uncle’s shower start running.