Raise your hand if you had (or have) a favorite uncle or aunt. You know the kind I mean. An adult to whom you could bare your soul and share your innermost thoughts and secrets without fear of being compromised. They're the ones you could go to with questions and not feel stupid. You could ask for experienced advice without getting a lecture. Those of us with such a relative felt fortunate to have an adult that empathized and would not act like a parent. Parents feel pressure to be parents and to adopt certain positions about many issues. On the other hand, that favorite uncle or aunt can be more of a trusted and experienced friend.
Coming from a large Italian family, I was lucky to have nearly two dozen aunts and uncles if you counted the ones by marriage. However, there was only one who was that extra special uncle. That was my Uncle Vince, one of my mom's younger brothers. I was the first grandchild in the family so that may be why Vince considered me something special, his first nephew. Vince was only about 12 years older than me so perhaps that's why he seemed more like an older brother than a parent. He had a special understanding about what I liked and wanted. While other aunts and uncles were giving me shirts and socks and sweaters for Christmas or my birthday, Uncle Vince was giving me model airplane kits or bundles of comic books. When I tried learning to fly one of those airplanes with the little gas engines, it was Vince who stayed with me out in the December cold to help. When I got my first BB gun, it was Vince who would go out to the woods with me to shoot beer bottles. Years later when I got out of the Navy, it was Vince who introduced me to a couple of exceptionally sexy ladies who became a special part of my life. But I'm getting ahead of myself. We'll get there soon.
My mom's family was (more correctly still is), in the food business. Not long after my grandfather came from Italy in the early 1900's, he started a grocery business that grew into a good-sized local supermarket. Over the years two more markets were added. Part of the business also included specialty Italian products that he imported himself by working directly with suppliers in Italy. The business expanded to provide those products to other stores and restaurants. Over time, the family business grew to include several restaurants and catering.
In the early 1950's my Uncle Vince served several years in the Navy. He used to send me stuff from all over the world. He sent me this garish satin jacket from Japan that sported a large, embroidered dragon on the back. Another treasure from abroad was a "shrunken head" from the Philippines. OK, the head was some dumb rubber fake from a souvenir shop, but I was too young and naïve to realize it. I truly thought it was real. I showed it to my friends who also seemed to think it was pretty cool. My mom hated the ugly thing and that's probably one of the reasons Vince sent it to me. He was always teasing his older sister and threatening to do things like take me to get a tattoo or other stuff that got her yelling at him. I loved Vince's tattoos from his time in the Navy and couldn't wait to get one myself someday.
When he returned from the service, he worked for my grandfather in the business and often took me on one of the store's trucks to pick up imported goods at the harbor or make deliveries to restaurants. At that time, one of the things that set my grandfather's supermarket apart was that it made home deliveries to various neighborhoods in the city. In those days, most working-class families didn't have two cars. Many women were stay-at-home moms and housewives. They depended on those home deliveries. Monday and Thursday were for certain neighborhoods. Tuesday and Friday were for others. Wednesday was reserved for pick-ups at the harbor or train depot and stocking the storeroom. I always thought it was odd that Uncle Vince never took me on any of his home deliveries. I learned much later in life why Vince left me behind. And that, my friends, is the crux of my story.
When I graduated in the very early 60's, I knew I wasn't ready for the rigors of college so I, like my Uncle Vince, joined the Navy. I truly lucked out. The Vietnam war had not yet gotten spun up and was not yet the lead story on the evening news. I know that some unfortunate guys in the Marines and Army were there getting shot at, but the whole mess was still being billed as an "advisory and training action". Any of you reading this who were indeed there slogging through rice paddies will hate me when I say that I spent my Navy years in Europe and the Mediterranean. Yep, my travels were far from the fungus jungles of Vietnam and took me to such places as Portugal, France, Italy, and Greece. The only combat I saw was when a fight broke out in a bar, at which point I'd head for the back door. I had no desire to spend time in a foreign jail or the brig.
It was during liberty in many port cities that I learned how the local young ladies seemed to enjoy spreading their legs and/or getting on their knees for the sexy young sailors in town. It was the European ladies who introduced me to the special joy that is the blowjob, and I quickly became a lifelong fan. Oh, there were a few "professionals" along the way, but for the most part, my escapades were with sweet, ordinary, but horny, young ladies with whom I played hide the salami. I think they liked secretly experimenting with foreign guys because it would keep them from getting bad reputations with the local men who might spread the word about their escapades. Their motto seemed to be, "play with the foreign guys and later pretend to be virgins for their hometown beaus."
When my service was done, I was still shuffling around about what to do with my life, so I took a temporary job with my grandfather. One Monday, I was surprised when Uncle Vince asked me to go with him on his home delivery route. After a couple of deliveries, we pulled the truck behind a house with a parking pad in the yard. After knocking on the backdoor, it was opened by a relatively attractive woman wearing a bathrobe. She looked to be perhaps in her early 40's. Her face lit up when she saw Vince, but then took on a puzzled look when she saw me behind him. She clutched the robe a bit tighter and re-tied the sash.
"Vince," she said a bit flustered. "I was expecting you to come alone as usual. Who is your friend here?"
"This is my nephew Nick," Vince replied. "You don't have to be concerned about him. Everything's OK with us as usual."
She stepped aside and we all stood in her kitchen. I put the box of groceries onto the kitchen counter.
Vince continued. "Nick, he said, "this is Tanya, a very nice lady that I've known quite well for some years."
Then he addressed Tanya. "Nick is just out of the Navy and working for my father until he figures out what he wants to do with his life. I had this brilliant idea to bring him along today so that maybe you could finally satisfy that little fantasy you've always had."
"Fantasy", I thought to myself. "What is he talking about."
Vince stepped behind Tonya and put his arms around in front of her.
"What do you say, Honey", he said. "Nick is quite a nice hunk of man, don't you think? He has my family's bedroom eyes and wavy hair. He's quite an athlete. Nick, why don't you take that shirt off and show this nice lady some of that well-toned body. You should also know that my friend Tanya has had this fantasy of having a threesome with two guys ever since I showed her a couple of my 16mm smoker films."
I was starting to put two and two together. At least I thought so. I'd never been a shy flower, but it seemed a bit strange that I was being put on display like some Golden Retriever at a dog show. Nevertheless, I unbuttoned my shirt and threw it onto a nearby chair. Back in the day I was quite proud of my body.
"See," Vince cooed into Tanya's ear. "What did I tell you? He's all muscle supporting a movie star face."
"Come on Nick." Vince said to me. "Show her a little more. Let her see the legs. Drop your pants."
