All was not nearly as well as it could be, I learned, listening to my uncle talk. And if he did a good job on sad country songs, well, maybe it was because it echoed the way he felt.
"It's been like this for months," he said. "Right now she's asleep. Three valiums. Fives, not tens. And every night it's the same way. I love her so much it hurts, and she's turned so Goddamn cold I can't stand to be in the same bed with her. It's like sleeping in a snowdrift. I don't know why. She keeps telling me there's nothing wrong at all, that she just doesn't sleep well and she doesn't feel like doing it, and…"
"And it looks as if I came along at the right time?" He raised his eyebrows. I kissed them. "Because I sleep like a kitten, and because I always feel like doing it."
He almost spilled me off his lap. "For the love of shit, Elizabeth! I don't know why I've let this go as far as it has already. I can't be – shouldn't be – shouldn't even think about…"
"You did more than think when you filled my mouth with that sweet syrup," I purred, stroking his dick. "It tasted good, and there was so much of it. I thought, wow, has he been saving this for me? Like a week's backlog, at least, and, mmmm-mmm good, you know? But…"
"I don't know why I let you do that."
"Because it felt good. Because you needed to do it. And because I needed it too. Now!" I stood up, and I tugged at his hand. "I want you to take me over to the couch and fuck me. Your cock is as hard as a rock, and if you couldn't taste the hungry in my pussy, you need a new tongue."
"You want it?" I asked, pulling harder. He stood up. His cock was sticking out, in full glorious erection. "You want it, and you need it. So do I. So let's do it. And when you've given me what I need, maybe I'll tell you a story. Fair enough?"
"You're my niece," he said. "It's against the law, isn't it?"
"It's against the law of nature to do without when you have the chance to do with," I replied. "And if Aunt Cheryl is valiumed into dreamland, there's no chance of getting caught. It only counts as incest when you get caught. Trust me. I know what I'm talking about." I smiled, and it was a sweet happy smile that matched the sweet memories inside me. Uncle Bill's head turned. In profile, he looked so much like Daddy it made my heart go zing! I jerked on his hand, and both of us wound up on the couch. Our bodies tussled and strained, and the cum-sticky end of his cock was all over my belly and crotch. Where it belonged was in me, and I knew that, since we'd made it as far as the touch. Victory was within reach. I reached, and my hand filled up with cock. "At least take your pants off," I said. "I don't like to screw with clothes on, you know? It seems so undignified."
"You're crazy," he said, but he unbuttoned the top button and wiggled out of his jeans and shorts. Then he lay down on me again. I opened his shirt, pushing it back. He didn't have that big mat of hair on his chest like Daddy. His chest was nearly smooth, just little wisps of fur here and there. He had small brown nipples, and they were rigid in my probing fingers. He moaned as I squeezed them, and his cock jiggled against me two or three times, reminding me what we had come here for.
"So am I," he added, as I opened my legs and his bare, hard body settled between them.
My legs were stretched across the floor, spraddled widely. The swell of my ass perched precariously on the edge of the sofa cushion. I reached down, touched my lips, and found that they were wet and juicy, as ready for insertion as they'd ever be. "Do it, Uncle Bill," I whispered, putting my arms around his neck. "Do it to me. I like it hard and fast, you know? I like to be fucked by a man. Show me you're a man. Fill up my pussy. Slide that cock up me and fuck till I scream. But don't stop then, because when I scream, it means I'm just warming up. Wait till you feel my pussy twitching all around you. I'm tight and so hot and wet and, oh, God, do it now, do it now, please!"
He did it! As I held him by the neck, Uncle Bill reached down, grabbed his stiff prick, and pushed it against the lips of my cleft.
I said, "Aaaaggghhhh!!" in a throaty voice, and my pussy ate him in one greedy gulp, taking him deep, hard, and fast. If he needed any proof that I was no virgin, no simple-minded little dummy moving into waters way over my head, the ripple of my cunt around his cock-stab should have convinced him. My head began to toss from side to side, and I felt my cunt lifting to meet him.
He got me by the hips, held me up, and he just drove that cock into me. Exactly as I'd requested, exactly as I needed! "Right on," I panted, curling my legs around his thighs.
"But can you go just a little harder. Just a little deeper, maybeeeeee???" I whined it out, for he was already touching places in me that sent quivers of excitement running through my body. My cunt was like a swamp, and his tool bored through me like Exxon looking for new oil deposits. He didn't find black gold, but grease oozed from my cuntal walls and he had a smooth, slick ride into my depths.
"For someone who's been on the wagon," I panted, "you don't seem to have forgotten the finer points."
And he hadn't. His teeth were gritted and he worked in and out of my twat, varying his approach, giving it to me like a man, the way I loved to get ft. Boys don't know shit about fucking. All they know is climbing on and sticking it in. They don't know that if they move their asses a little, side to side, not back and forth, if they just put some English on the stab of that stiff dick, it can send a girl up the wall begging for more, more, more!
I pulled his face down, raised my own, and we kissed, all wet and hungry, and we didn't miss a stroke of the fucking. It was good – really good. If Aunt Cheryl was pilling herself out of this, she needed her Goddamned head examined! Oh, Christ, the way my belly churned as he plumbed me again and again! His cock was just long enough. The tip of him was pressing the mouth of my womb and there was the most delicious sensation deep in my guts. I wanted to open myself even wider and swallow more of him, even though I could already feel his balls in the crack of my ass. His body pound against me, rubbing my clit all over my pubic bone, and my head swam madly, happily. I swallowed his tongue and sucked it like I'd sucked his pecker. He kept on feeding me his stiff rod, in and out, in and out, driving himself home. Where a woman can get by with her fingers, she really needs something bigger and better to make her feel the earth move and hear the bells ringing.
God! I was starting to get all trembly, and my ears were hollow. Or was it the earth shuddering under me, the bells ringing in the distance? I didn't know. I just held him with my hands, my legs, and my twat, and I teased him with the sweet promise of my body. Give me more, I told him in silent body language, give me more and I'll give you everything! Everything!
My head fell back and we moved. Now, I had one leg thrown over the back of the couch, the other dangling on the floor, and he was kneeling on the cushions, feeding me his dick without a single missed stroke.
I kept lifting my pussy to meet him, to eat him. "That's it," I gasped, "that's really itttt!!"
"You're telling me?" he said wonderingly. Words seemed so superfluous then, full of his cock as I was. I realized as I took him up my twat again and again how really hooked on prick I had let myself become. A smoker going through a nicotine fit? Nothing compared to Elizabeth Ashcraft without her daily ration of dick! It was going to be a nice visit, I thought, receiving him, and especially if Aunt Cheryl kept up the frigid routine he'd described. God only knew what her trouble was! The man knew what he was doing! I had friends in Cleveland Heights who fingered themselves to sleep at nights, wishing someone would give them what my Aunt Cheryl apparently had no use for. People! You just can't figure them. She looked sexy, she walked sexy, she talked sexy – even her lips, when I kissed her goodnight, had been warm and moist and yielding, the kind of lips made for kissing and other delicious activities. But here it was, the moment of truth, and she was upstairs in a valium coma while I lay on the couch getting the cock she didn't want. And God, was I getting it! My pussy screamed! His cock was thick enough to fill me, the way I loved to be filled. The more he fucked, the more raw my labes felt, especially at the very mouth of my hole. When his belly came down on mine and my clit did its jiggly little dance, crushed against my internal bone structure, it seemed foolish to hold back. It could get better, sure, but it was damned good now and I might as well let myself go!
"I'm coming," I gasped, just as my pussy erupted into convulsions. As if he needed to be told! I wiggled and squirmed on the couch, getting my legs around him again, pulling him into my hungry hole, and bathing him with my juices while he tried to keep up his rhythm! My puss became a network of twitching muscles. All he could do was pound against me and stay in me a long long time. He let my hole go crazy around his stiff bone. I held him tightly, and it was damned good enough for me.
"Fuck me," I told him, "fuck me, fuck me, fuck meeee!"
He came down upon me as my orgasm broadened. His motion was limited to jiggles now, little twitches of his cock, not the majestic strokes he'd been giving me, but I was so excited I could hardly tell the difference. It was that kind of fuck. I kept slamming up at him while he lay lean and strong and firm atop me, and I was full of his cock. Somehow I remembered that I was supposed to go riding with that neighbor girl the next day but, ha ha, I was the one being ridden tonight, and she could take her horse and shove it up her ass for all I cared. Neighborhood boys? I didn't care if there were any of them around. I'd settle far what I had in me right now. I didn't feel so bad about Daddy going off to the far corner of the world, abandoning me, so to speak. It still hurt that he'd gone now, what with my birthday coming up in three more days, but he had a living to make, I guess. That was an excuse, but it didn't take away the hurting. Not even Uncle Bill's hard thrusting cock could take away the hurting – not completely.
Funny, I thought, holding Uncle Bill tightly. It had come about because I crawled onto his lap. Did I have a natural effect on men when I sat in their laps. I asked myself. Did the closeness of me just make them get all kinds of horny ideas? Or was I just irresistible? Mmmm.
I have a great body now, but I didn't always have it. I had been a little skinny kid, like every girl is first part of her life, braids, braces and saddle oxfords. My trouble was, I had stayed like that until I was almost fifteen. Every other girl in my class at school had tits and hair and had to skip gym once a month, and here was little Elizabeth. I was four feet tall, skinny as a pencil, and flat-chested. I read the directions on Tampax boxes and wondered when it would happen to me.
Kids can be nasty as hell, in case you've forgotten. The other girls thought I was some kind of freak because my puberty was so late, and boys – well, boys didn't know I existed. I asked a boy to the Sadie Hawkins dance when I was fourteen, and, he just laughed, patted my flat chest (it was public, too; Goddamn him! I got red as Mao's underwear) and said, "Ask me again when you grow up, kid."
Well, when I grew up, it was with a vengeance. It happened almost overnight, the spring and summer of my freshman year in high school. I got hair, soft golden hair all over my cunt, and I started to bleed regularly, just like a woman. My tits took on shape, curving and thrusting and finally molding themselves into the sweet 36-Cs they are today. I shot up like a weed, grew four or five inches in a twinkling. My stylish, knee-length skirts became minis as my legs got longer. Did I get noticed? Does a bear shit in the woods? Boys who used to laugh at me came nosing around asking for dates, and I overheard three or four guys once, making bets on which of them would be the first one to get his cock up me. Ha! If I'd matured at eleven, twelve and thirteen, like my friends, it would have been different, but at fourteen, I'd learned a few things.
To be honest, what I turned into was a "foxy young snatch", to use one boy's highly descriptive phrase. I was the most skillful cocktease in Cleveland Heights, Ohio – maybe in the whole Middle West. You probably knew someone like me when you were that age. Lots of promise but when it came to putting out or getting out, she got out and left you there with a cock so hard it hurt! I used to go home after dates and diddle myself, thinking all the while about the boys I'd turned on and left breathless and fuckless. Sometimes, sure, I'd use my hands on a boy. Once I even let a guy put his cock in my mouth. I sucked him till he was moaning and shaking, ready to come, and then I jerked my head away and he shot all over the upholstery of his father's car. How did I get set right? My Daddy did it. And in the process, more or less determined the course of my sex life.
I'd never thought much about Daddy. He was usually busy with work, especially after Mom died, and I wasn't about to tell him that his only child and darling daughter was out cruising town, teasing the balls off every boy who tried to get into her pristine panties. But one night I came home from a date, and it had been really a nice date, you know? I gave a little hand, a very little head, let the boy suck my tits, even let him put his fingers on my cunt, but when he dropped me off at the door he was hard and moaning about "blue balls" or something, and I know damned well he never went further than around the corner before he had to stop the car and jack off into his handkerchief. We'd been smoking some week at the drive-in, watching dirty movies, and I was more than a little turned on, too. My bra was in my purse and I didn't have my panties on, either. I was planning to go up to my room and smoke a little more and do myself, slow and sexy, the way I'd learned to masturbate, the best way. But I saw Daddy sitting in his den, and I stopped at the door, watching him.
It was a warm summery night, and he was shirtless, wearing just a pair of jogging shorts, checking some blueprints from whatever job he was on at the time. He'd had a few drinks and he just looked so loose and handsome and masculine sitting there. I studied the shape of his body and I felt my belly fluttering.
I went into the den. "Hi, Daddy," I said, turning his swivel chair around. I plopped onto his lap and gave him a great big kiss. I was about stoned, if you want to know the truth. I knew daughters weren't supposed to kiss Daddies that way, but I didn't care an awful lot. My halter top was snug and my nipples stuck out, big and stiff. I wondered how they would feel touching his hairy, bare chest. I leaned in close and tapped him with my nips. I put my arms around his neck, too, and rocked a little, up and down, on his lap.
Well, if you can't figure what happened next, you're probably reading the wrong book. I was more stoned than I thought, and I think he'd had a couple more drinks than I had figured on. Things just started to happen, things that neither of us could stop once they got underway. He swept the blueprints off his spacious desk, and it was there, with my legs hanging over the side and my halter top untied that I got my first fuck – from Daddy. It hurt when he punched my cherry, and he almost stopped when he saw the blood trickling from my twat, but I wouldn't let him. And all the tricks I'd learned with boys, the little teasing tricks that got boys worked-up and made them roar and groan – well, I used all of them on Daddy. He roared a little, and he groaned a lot. He fired off his dick deep inside me and my cunt was full of his hot sticky sperm.
From there it was all uphill. I orgasmed Christ knows how many times while he was fucking me. He could feel the comes, and so could I. God, could I! And when it was over, we looked at each other. Both of us were sober and straight by now, and our eyes met, and we didn't have to say another word. He took my hand and we went to bed – his bed – and from then on, eighteen months ago, the only time I slept in my own bed was when he was out of town or something. I was his daughter and his wife and his woman, and he was my daddy and my man, and it was a complete relationship. Totally complete. We did everything, including some stuff you probably wouldn't believe if I told you about it. It had happened, and neither of us ever looked back or questioned a bit of it.
"I don't believe anything you're telling me," Uncle Bill said.
"Why not?" I asked, using my panties to wipe up the drip of cum from yours truly, very well-fucked pussy. When I touched myself, even with the soft nylon, it sent a delicious ache up and down my body. He hadn't fired off as much jism in my twat as I'd taken in the mouth, but he had done one hell of a job on me and my puss still ached with the sweetness of what he'd done inside my dripping hole.
"He – Dan – wouldn't do anything like that – not to his own daughter – it's impossible to believe – no, it's not true, you're telling me a lie."
"Well!" I sat up. "I think I know him a little better than you," I pointed out, "at least in the Biblical sense, and I resent being called a liar. You know?"
He stood up, shaking his head. "Damn it, Elizabeth, why did things have to get so complicated all of a sudden?" His back was to me. I arose from the couch and slinked up behind him, sliding my arms around his body. If my fingers made instinctively for his crotch, well, I guess it couldn't be helped, could it? "Stop it," he said. "Stop it!"
"Well," I said, letting go. "You certainly turn weird after a fuck, don't you?"
He turned around. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked at me with solemn, almost pained expression in his eyes. "Damn it, Elizabeth," he said, chewing the words before he spoke them, "this is wrong. We can't do it any more."
"Can't do it any more?" I repeated. "You sure know how to make a girl feel good. What's wrong? Didn't I respond enough? Didn't I made you feel like a man when you were in me? Christ, I loved it! And if I know cock the way I think I know it, you had a pretty good time too. Listen, Uncle Bill. It seems weird to be calling you Uncle after what we just did. Do you mind if I drop the honorific? Isn't it good for both of us? I mean, I need it most of the time, you know? And you talk like you need it too and aren't getting it, and… and that's enough," he said, picking up his pants. I sat down on the couch and watched him slip his feet into the jeans. His eyes drifted towards me, and I was twiddling my middle finger in the crack of my cunt. My eyes were grinning even if my lips weren't. He turned away and pulled his pants.
"Oh, shit," I sighed. "Are you on some kind of morality trip?"
"If you consider morality to mean that I don't believe in screwing my teenaged niece," he said, "then I guess the answer is yes."
"What does fucking have to do with morality?" I asked. "What the hell does fucking have to do with morals?"
"Jesus," he said, buttoning his pants up tight.
I slink back on the couch, legs parted far enough to give him a perfect shot at my pink pussy, shining among the curls of golden hair. "You didn't answer," I pointed out. "About fucking and morals."
He sighed. "I don't know what kind of life you've been living, Elizabeth," he said, "but you have a hell of a lot to learn about people. Yes," he added, smoothing his shirt, "yes I fucked you. Like an animal fucks another animal. But if you think…"
"I think you needed it as badly as I did," I cut in, "and I think we both got what we wanted. Mmmmmm." My finger slipped into my jismy hole and I let it go deep, wiggling its way up my cuntal tube. "You left your sticky stuff in me," I added, simpering. "I'm full of it."
He picked up his guitar, put it into the case, and fooled with the buckles, his back to me all the time. "You know," I said, "this is turning out to be okay. Really okay. I mean, you do the nice thing for me, taking me in while Daddy's in Arabia, and I can do all kinds of nice things for you, Uncle Bill. I really can." Leaning back, I stretched my legs and giggled. It was still cum-sticky between my thighs, warm juice coating my lips. I rubbed the fluid into myself, sighing as the mini-massage got better and better.
"I taught Daddy how to smoke grass," I added. "And he taught me how to fuck. Do you like to give it up a girl's ass? I can really get off on that, sometimes, you know? Like, if you'd come over here and let me suck your cock again, I bet I could get you hard in a hurry, and maybe we could try it that way, if you like it, I mean. Bet you'd dig it with me. I get all weird when I've got one up my ass. I moan and come all the time and Daddy says it's like trying to catch a greased pig at the county fair, you can grab but you can't really hang on, but that's the fun of it. Hmnnn? Want to try? And maybe in return you could show me how to play guitar. I always wanted to learn, but ever since Daddy and I got started, I just haven't had the time…"
"I can't believe anything I'm hearing," Uncle Bill said. "You talk like a whore! Like one of those cheap sluts who sit in cubicles at massage parlors and take on anyone who comes through the door! And you're just a kid, Elizabeth, almost a child…"
He cupped my firm, red-nipples tits and wiggled them at him. Did children have tits? I asked with the gesture. Tits like these?
"Listen to me," he added. "Maybe things haven't been so great between me and Cheryl lately, but I don't have to go around carrying on with a schoolgirl – with my own niece."
He cleared his throat. "This won't happen any more," he said as if he really meant it.
I made a pouty face at him, but he just turned and went upstairs. I sat on the couch until I heard his bedroom door go shut, and I knew that he was in there now, undressing again, crawling in alongside Aunt Cheryl while she lay in her medicated sleep. She had no idea if he was in bed or not; she didn't care. And Uncle Bill – well, he'd gone white as a sheet when I told him the story of me and Daddy, and I still didn't think he believed anything I'd told him. It was true, and I just wanted him to know the score, to know that he could have me if he wanted, if he needed. I was here; I was available. I kinda dug the brand of fucking he threw onto a girl's body. A second helping of that would set well with me.
"This won't happen any more," I said, mimicking him. I picked up my shirt and panties and strolled up the stairs, naked now. Maybe he'd be peeking out his door as I went by. Nope. I went into my room and stood by the window again. The moon was high in the night sky, surrounded by millions of stars. Lovely night. My body felt good, too, super-good. Diddling would never have left you this contented, Elizabeth, I reminded myself as I lay down. My legs parted, and I found my fingers crawling into my crotch. I giggled as I spread myself and started to play in my sticky puss. My clit was still at attention from the session with Uncle Bill. Little oozes of joy sped through me. My legs quivered and I sighed. I hoped Uncle Bill was still awake down the hall, hoped he could hear me, hoped he could guess what I was doing.
"Aaahhhh," I purred in a sultry, moaning voice, dipping into my hole with two scooping fingers.
An hour ago this would have been enough for me. But even as my fingers did their wiggly, frisky in-out, even as my belly began to undulate and my toes curled and uncurled in delight, I found myself thinking of Uncle Bill's cock ramming like a cannonball up my cunt. Each stroke racked me, rolled me, sent me into many flights of eager-cunted response.
Uncle Bill's was the third cock I had allowed in my pussy. Not long after I started with Daddy, I began to feel a natural curiosity about other men and their sex talents. So I looked around and decided which of the campus Romeos. I would honor with my body. He was young and hard, and he fucked me half the night, but it just wasn't the same. As our bodies ground together, I knew he was only a boy with so much to learn. Let him learn on someone else, I decided, and then come back my way when he'd finished his homework. From then on, no one got into me but my Daddy. I didn't stop my cock-teasing. It was too much fun. I'd go out occasionally, get my date gasping and moaning and stiff as a board, and then I'd go home and crawl into my father's bed and rise his hard, manly cock while we shared our delight and secret knowledge.
Uncle Bill? Well, he wasn't a boy. That was for damned sure. He knew his way around a pussy. I figured him for a good hand at eating, too, and I could hardly wait to see if his tongue was as skilled as Daddy's. Anyway – I'd made up my mind. Uncle Bill and I would be fucking again. Soon. And often. Christ! With a wife turned cold and full of downers, how could he resist? And if he fucked as well all the time as he'd fucked me downstairs on the couch, how could I resist? I squeezed my cunt as the tremors of orgasm began to pass through me, and even amid a shower of sweet joy flooding me, I was thinking ahead, to the next time I'd open my legs and Uncle Bill's hard cock would go thrusting up my tube, anxious to spill its hot seed deep in the pit of my belly. My finger slipped back into me, and it felt good, but oh so much better, I thought, when it was a cock, a real throbbing cock, and not just a skinny girlish finger. I settled onto the pillow, sighing, choking back a sob, and I pulled up the covers and settled easily into a sleep full of sweet cunty dreams. Best kind.