Checkmate. Damn, I had no idea Uncle Jonah was that good at chess. I quipped that I was slowly getting better at the game, but I think we both knew I was, at best, playing catch-up. He nodded with a half-grin—Finally, I’m sure he thought, a game he could beat me at.
Admittedly, I could’ve probably been more competitive, or optimal in my play, but I easily get distracted. How could I not with a fine and foxy stud like Uncle Jonah sitting across from me? While my uncle planned his next move during the match, I couldn’t help but stare at the extra-large lump in his jeans. I wondered if he wore tight pants during our games on purpose.
The game itself wasn’t so important. Whether it be chess, strip poker, or some other game, the more and more Uncle Jonah and I spent time together, the more I desired him. The last time we screwed around after a chess match the sex was seriously mind-blowing. It was like our natural competitive nature brought out the carnal animal in both of us.There were joys in winning and losing known only to the way that we played.