Dale squeezed Tom’s pectoral muscle when he felt his uncle’s hand come to rest on his crotch. A short moan escaped his lips as the fingers of Tom’s hand closed around the bulge in his jeans. He wanted his uncle have it, to take it in his mouth. He wanted to feel it sliding down his throat. Suddenly it seemed as if all his teenage fantasies were about to come true. He removed his hand from Tom’s chest and grabbed the c**k he had glimpsed the night before when his uncle had come in to say good night, and again that morning, briefly, in the bathroom. It seemed even larger now that his hand was pressed to it; now that his fingers were wrapped as far around it as the fabric of Tom’s trousers would allow. He squeezed it and at the same time felt his arsehole twitch at thought that soon he might
