Part 1

Having been brought up by strict religious parents, I was a bit of a late starter when it comes to sex compared to a lot of my friends; although I’d had girlfriends since I was about fourteen I’d never gone further than kissing and touching (apart from one older girl who gave me a very half-hearted and not very exciting blow-job when I was sixteen) because for some reason, that I didn’t understand at the time, the girls didn’t seem to have the same effect on me as they did on my friends.

The first really enjoyable sexual encounter I had was when I was eighteen. My aunt had just had a baby which mum was keen to see so my parents were going to visit her, but I wasn’t interested in going with them, so I said I would stay home. They agreed that I didn’t have to go with them, and I thought how great it would be to have the house to myself for a whole week, however they had other plans and told me that my uncle Steve would be coming to stay while they were away, because they didn’t think I was old enough to stay home alone.

Actually he wasn’t my real uncle, he was just a friend of my dad’s younger brother, but I’d always called him Uncle Steve ever since I was a little boy, when he would visit with my uncle. I hadn’t seen him since I was six, he was nineteen then and had teased me, and I hated that they wanted him to come and stay. I was eighteen, and I didn’t need anyone to take care of me, especially him, but they said it was to take care of the house as well as me, and despite my pleading and sulking, they wouldn’t change their minds.

Steve arrived on Friday night, and on Saturday morning my parents said goodbye and set off; after they’d left I went straight up to my room, and stayed there all day playing my music loud in protest. In the evening Steve came to my room and asked if I wanted anything to eat, I couldn’t say no as I suddenly realised just how hungry I was, so I agreed to him ordering pizza and when it arrived I went downstairs to eat it with him.

Steve got a couple of beers from the fridge, which he must have put in there after my parents left, as they would never have alcohol in the house and I’d only tried it at my friend’s house, he offered me one, and I thanked him as I took the bottle, and thought that maybe this week wouldn’t be so bad after all.

We sat in silence for a while as we ate the pizza and drank the beer.

“Do you have pizza a lot?” asked Steve when I was about halfway through mine.

“Almost never,” I replied with a pout. “Mum hates me eating junk; she won’t have it in the house!”

“Your mum needs to lighten up,” he said with a grin. “A kid’s gotta eat junk sometimes, it’s not natural not to!”

I couldn’t agree more, I loved pizza and burgers but mum wouldn’t have them in the house, so the only time I got to eat them was when…

Find out what happens next!