Shawn's Three Way with his Best Friend and His Uncle

London, June 2015

Yuri has broken up with Michael, and is no longer living in Soho, the West Hollywood of London.  Instead, he's in Vauxhall, the South of Market of London, a funky neighborhood of leather bars, tattoo parlors, and dive restaurants.  Fun.

Tonight he invites a bear couple in their 50s and two single guys in their 20s over for dinner, conversation, entertainment, and, hopefully sharing.  The conversation begins with tales of gigantic penises and celebrity hookups (Prince Harry appears  in both categories).

Then, oddly, Yuri suggests coming out stories.

In West Hollywood, every new person you met told you his coming out story, how he had overcome the deadly silence of his childhood, finding evidence that "it is not raining upstairs" as everyone around him proclaimed, loudly, that everyone on Earth was heterosexual.  The stories were all similar, yet we never grew tired of them; it was a way of bonding, of discovering that we were not alone in the world.

But nowadays gay people don't grow up in utter silence anymore. They know at age five; they tell their parents at age eight; they join their elementary school Gay-Straight Alliance at age ten.  There's no coming out; there was never an "in."

Yuri's suggestion of coming out stories must be for the benefit of the young guys, I conclude, to give them a sense of history.  So I tell about going to see the movie Grease in the summer of 1978: "We stop the fight right now, we got to be who we are."

One of the bears tells about finding a stash of straight porn magazines, around 1975, and zeroing in on the men.

The other bear tells about listening to David Cassidy sing "I Think I Love You" on The Partridge Family in 1971.

We're about to move on to other topics, when Shawn, age 28, says "I can top that.  I had no idea until I was gay until just after my seventeenth birthday, when I had a three-way with my best mate and my uncle."

Dundee, Scotland, Spring 2004

Carmostie, a far suburb of Dundee, Scotland, is the world's most boring burg.  It's all about golf -- three golf courses, the British Open, shops like The Tee Caddy, fat, ugly golf enthusiasts wandering around taking pictures.  Dull!   When I was a kid, all there was to do was hang around in the House Grounds, or, if we had the money, stop into Goodfellow and Steven for an ice cream.

I knew what gay people were -- swishy, fruity things, like Jack on Will and Grace.  But there weren't any in Carmostie, or in all of Scotland, as far as I could tell. Certainly not me -- I didn't swish!  I was straight, just too mature to take part in the juvenile dating-and-breaking up fest that was my high school.

My best friend Brian, a cute Paki with a round face, black hair, and swimmer's build, was too mature for the dating game, too.  I never suspected that he might be gay, even though we always rated guys on their butts and baskets.  After all, he was deeply into football.  How could a fan of Dundee United ever be...gay?

One day just past my seventeenth birthday, Brian invited me to go to a movie in Dundee, about ten miles away.  Funny, I didn't ask him what was playing.

But he didn't take me to the Odeon.  We went to a flat in a rather funky neighborhood about two blocks from the statue of Desperate Dan in the City Centre.

He knocked, and to my surprise, my Uncle Jack answered.

Uncle Jack was my dad's younger brother, a black sheep who had all sorts of "quare" friends and did vaguely disreputable things that my parents never talked about.

Even though he lived only a half hour drive away, I had never been to his flat, and he rarely came to Carmostie.  Last time we saw him was at a Christmas party, five months ago.

Uncle Jack answered the door wearing only a towel.  I noticed for the first time his hard hairy chest, his nipple ring, his thick biceps,,,.

"Oh, sorry, mates, you're early," he exclaimed.  "Come in, come in, just let me finish getting dressed.  There's sandwiches and sodas in the fridge, if you're feeling peckish."

We grabbed some sandwiches and sat down on the couch, beside a picture of a semi-nude man in a foundry.  On the coffee table there was a book on male nudes.  Brian began to leaf through it.

"Where's the ladies?" I asked.

"Who needs ladies when you can have him?"

Were you starting to get it? I asked.

Shaun grins sheepishly.  "I feel like a complete idiot now, but no.  Brian didn't swish, so he couldn't possibly be gay, right?"

"How do you know my Uncle Jack?"

"We met at the Christmas party last year -- you remember," Jack said.  "And we've kept in email contact, and sometimes I come up here for dinner."

"Why would you want to be friends with my uncle?  He's ten years older than us, isn't he?"  Which I thought of as middle aged, at the time.

"Are you kidding?  Look at him!  He's brilliant!"

A moment later, Uncle Jack appeared wearing short pants and a tank top.  I'd never seen him like that before.  I had to admit that he was hot.

 "Are you coming to the movies with us?" I asked.

He frowned.  "Well, mate. this isn't really about the movies.  It's what might call an intervention.  Brian and I have been discussing you, quite a lot, really, and we think you have a problem.  We're here to get you sorted out."

My face burned.  "I don't use drugs!" I protested.

"Not that kind of problem.  Here, let's have a hug, then."

I dutifully stood and put my arms around Uncle Jack.  He hugged me tightly, not like an uncle.  I felt his hard chest, his abs, his basket against mine.

He tried to let go, but I hugged him harder.  I could feel my penis springing to life.

"Hey, let me in on that, too," Brian said.  He pushed his way into our hug, his hand on my butt.

Suddenly Uncle Jack and Brian were kissing.  It didn't seem weird.  It was the most natural thing in the world.

Brian moved in to kiss and fondle me.  Uncle Jack pulled my Bratwurst+ out of my pants, stroked it, then fell to his knees and went down on me.  My first time.

Brian took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom.  I was still fully aroused when he pushed me onto the bed into the interfemoral position.

Uncle Jack lay on the bed, too, his enormous Kielbasa standing straight up.  He fed it into me while Brian worked.

Afterwards Brian and I lay cuddling as Uncle Jack got dressed.  "Well, I was just expecting a heart-to-heart talk, but that turned out well," he said.  "I'll get us some tea and biscuts."

London, June 2015

"Did you and Brian date after that?" one of the bears asks.

"No, it was just that one time.  Uncle Jack and Brian were actually dating, and they decided that it was high time I came out."  He smiles.  "The sharing wasn't part of the plan, but I'm glad it happened."

"You're right," I say.  "That beats my Grease story by a mile."

See also: I Lost It at the Movies; Yuri and I Meet the Emo Boy of London