Uncle Ben was a tall rather pompous man who always wore old fashioned tweed suits and worked as a travelling salesman for agricultural and farm machin...ry so was usually only at the garden centre at weekends, nothing was ever said but I didn’t really like him much and I don’t believe that he cared much for me either. He insisted that I always call him Uncle Ben even though my aunt had now asked me to just call her Maggie and treated me the same as the other grown men at the centre. I thought it. Not all the way, not to where he wanted to put it and not to where Adam wanted it, but far enough to indicate his intent, sufficient so that, with just the merest further movement, the side of his hand would nestle against the bulge of his friend’s balls. Adam’s leg began to shake uncontrollably under his friend’s touch. In a croaky voice that Adam had never heard before, Guy suddenly broke the silence. ‘Would you like to remove your shirt, Adam?’ His words burst over Adam. They were simple. More

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