The 'black sheep' of the family (my mother's brother) was Uncle Guy. Back then, I didn't pick up the overt camp signals, such as the pink silk pocket handerchiefs or his idolization of the American crooner Johnnie Ray. Bachelor Guy ran a weird bric-a-brac shop in the London district of Soho, which was then full of Bohemian jazz clubs, casinos, strip joints (the forerunners of sex shops) and over-made-up street walkers, whose trademark salutation was: "Would you like a nice time, dearie?" I loved wandering the area, especially at dusk, when it began to get 'edgy'.One day my father gave me an envelope which he said had to be urgently delivered by hand to his brother-in-law. I was given the fare to travel up to London from the suburbs by bus. It was nearly five o'clock when I eventually reached Uncle Guy's shop in Soho, called Bijou Ephemera. Its garishly-illuminated shop window featured all manner of bric-a-brac: antique jewellery, old china, leather-bound railway almanacs, split-crotch. I got a tingling feeling on my balls, and my cock started sticking out more than usual. It felt nice too. I was still looking at the man peeing out of the corner of my eye as he stopped. He started to jiggle his cock with his finger and thumb wrapped around the base. It was so big, like a fat sausage, it just kind of hung over his big finger and wobbled. I laughed a little bit when he wobbled it. It looked funny. I always just pulled my pants up. He must have noticed me laughing, because he looked down. He looked down at my cock and said, "You gotta get it all out or it gets in your pants," then he laughed a little as he started to squeeze it like when I had seen a cow being milked. I started doing the same thing as I looked at his, and that nice feeling grew. I noticed the guy's cock was starting to stick out like mine, and it was so big now! When he saw I was still looking, the man smiled at me and knew I was admiring his big cock, so he started rubbing his hand up and down.
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