My Uncle Caught Me Dressed Up in Front of the Mirror

The empty apartment was the only place where I could be who I really was. My mother worked late on Thursdays, and those hours of silence had become my little secret ritual. As soon as the door closed behind her, my heart would start beating differently, faster, anticipating what was coming.

I’d go straight to her room. I’d open the bottom drawer with fingers already trembling with desire and take out the boldest lingerie I had hidden away: black lace that clung to every curve, an almost transparent corset, fine stockings held up by garters that squeezed my thighs. A short skirt that barely covered anything when I bent over. A white blouse left open halfway.

I’d sit in front of the dressing-room mirror and transform myself slowly, enjoying every step. Red lips, a line of eyeliner, lashes that changed my face completely. When I was done, the person staring back at me no longer had my name. It was Camila, and Camila was everything I didn’t dare be for the rest of the week.

I’d move around the room in heels, hips swaying, imagining hands that weren’t my own. I dreamed of someone grabbing my hair, telling me in my ear what they already knew about me and not letting me get away. I fantasized about a hard cock plunging into me to the hilt, about swallowing hot cum down to the very last drop, about being fucked mercilessly until I was trembling. That fantasy came with me every Thursday, and every Thursday it grew more urgent. I’d slip my hand under the thong, caressing my swollen clit until my pulse hammered between my legs and my panties were soaked through.

One afternoon, as I was leaning forward in front of the mirror adjusting my stocking, I saw a shadow pass across the window. My heart stopped. I dropped to the floor in a panic, holding my breath, certain someone had seen me. I waited forever, frozen with fear. When I peeked out, there was no one. The outer hallway was empty.

I should have stopped there. I should have put everything away and forgotten about it. But fear, instead of putting me out, had turned me on even more. I stayed in front of the mirror, hotter than ever, my pulse hammering between my legs and my cunt dripping beneath the lace.

***

The following Thursday, the doorbell rang before I’d even finished painting my lips. I jumped. My mother never came back that early, and no one ever rang at that hour. I looked through the peephole and my throat closed up.

It was my uncle Andrés. My mother’s brother. Tall, broad-shouldered, a few days’ beard, that smell of tobacco and man that filled any room. He couldn’t see me like this. I couldn’t open the door. But I couldn’t pretend no one was home either, because the light was on and he knew it.

I opened it only a crack, hiding my body behind the door.

“Uncle… it’s not a good time…” I stammered.

He pushed the door open effortlessly and came in. He locked it behind him. He looked me over from head to toe, slowly, with no surprise at all on his face. And then I understood whose shadow it had been the week before.

“So it was true,” he said in that deep voice that seemed to come straight from his chest. “I saw you last Thursday through the window. I didn’t want to believe it.”

Shame rushed up to my face like a slap. I wanted to cover myself, disappear, tear the clothes off. But beneath the lace, my body responded differently, betraying me: my nipples hardened against the corset and I felt a fresh wave of wetness between my thighs.

“Please… don’t tell my mom,” I pleaded, my voice breaking.

He stepped closer. He took my chin between two fingers and lifted my face so he could look at me properly.

“I’m not telling anyone,” he murmured. “But in exchange you’re going to let me see everything you’re hiding. No shame. Sit down.”

He pointed at my mother’s bed. I sat on the edge, knees together, not knowing what to do with my hands. He sat beside me, so close I could feel the heat he gave off and the bulge already pressing against his pants.

“How long have you been doing this, Camila?” he asked, using the name as if he’d always known it.

“A long time…” I admitted in a thin voice. “For years.”

“And has anyone ever touched you dressed like this?”

I shook my head, biting my lip.

“No one ever,” I whispered.

His eyes shone with something that made me press my thighs together without wanting to. He ran his rough hand over my thigh, sliding slowly up over the stocking, slipping beneath the skirt until he brushed against my soaked thong. I let out a gasp I couldn’t swallow.

“Look at you, whore,” he murmured, pressing the wet fabric against my cunt. “All dripping for me.”

“Does it turn you on to be her?” he insisted, lowering his voice. “Does this happen every time you dress up?”

I nodded. There was no point lying. My body had already confessed for me.

***

“Then show me,” he said, and reclined against the headboard, spreading his legs.

I knelt on the carpet in front of him, trembling. I unbuttoned his pants with clumsy fingers. When I freed what was hidden there, my mouth went dry. It was thick, heavy, already awake, throbbing in my hands like something alive. His balls hung tight and dark. A strong, loaded male smell hit my nose and made me dizzy. I’d never had a man this close.

“Wait for me,” I said suddenly. “I want to change. I want to be perfect for this.”

I ran to the bathroom with trembling legs. I put on my finest black thong, the matching corset, new stockings with garters, and touched up my lips a deeper red. I looked at myself in the mirror for a second: I was exactly the woman I had always wanted to be. The memory of the cock waiting for me in the bedroom made me start dripping into my clean thong before I’d even taken two steps.

When I came back, he let out a low grunt of approval.

“Fuck… look at you,” he said slowly, stroking his cock and jerking himself off for me. “Come here. Sit on me.”

I straddled his legs. His huge hands grabbed my waist, then slid down to squeeze my ass hard, his fingers digging into my flesh. He pulled me against his chest and rubbed me against his hard cock, which was wedged between my thighs, soaking through the lace with my wetness.

“Can I bite your neck?” he asked in my ear, and the softness of the question surprised me.

“Yes…” I panted. “Yes, please…”

His hot mouth traveled over my neck, sucking, biting lightly, leaving marks I would have to hide for days. He yanked my corset down and my tits sprang free. He lunged at one nipple, sucked it hard, bit it, while with his other hand he pinched the other. Every bite tore a moan from me that I couldn’t control. I dug my nails into his shoulders, lost, grinding my hips on my own against his bulge.

“Take it out,” he ordered hoarsely. “It’s already hard for you.”

I pulled his zipper all the way down. It lay free between us, enormous, a drop glistening at the tip, his smell hitting me straight on. My mouth watered with need.

“You like it?” he asked, watching how I stared at it.

“It’s huge…” I answered, almost breathless. “I’ve never seen a cock like that, Uncle…”

“Then use that slutty mouth for something useful.”

***

I slid down to the floor again, between his legs. I took it with both hands—my hands didn’t even fully wrap around it—and kissed it all over, leaving a wet trail of saliva and red lipstick. I went lower and licked his balls, one and then the other, taking them whole into my mouth while I stroked his shaft with my hand. He let out a long, guttural fuck.

“Like that, like that, suck them good…”

I climbed back up, ran the flat of my tongue over the tip and heard him hold his breath. I caught the thick drop that was beading there and tasted it. Then I opened my mouth and took him in as far as I could, until I felt him reach the back of my throat and I gagged.

“That’s it, slowly… you do that so well, niece,” he growled, sinking his fingers into my hair, setting the pace. “Look at how you lose the whole thing in your mouth.”

I went up and down, saliva slipping down my chin, falling in thick drops onto my tits. My eyes filled with tears from the effort, and my mascara started running. I moaned with my mouth full, and my own moans seemed to drive him wild. He grabbed my hair harder and pushed a little deeper, forcing me, fucking my mouth with short thrusts.

“Take it, take it all… that’s how I wanted to see you, like the little whore you are…”

He pulled away for a second to let me breathe. I sucked in air with a gag, a thread of saliva hanging from my lip to the swollen tip.

“You’ve got such a tasty cock, Uncle…” I babbled, out of breath. “I don’t want to stop. I want you to finish in my mouth.”

“Then don’t stop.”

I took him back in. I sped up. One hand was caressing his balls, the other working the base. The room filled with wet, obscene sounds, with his ragged breathing, my muffled moans, the smacking of my lips going up and down. I could feel him getting harder and harder between my lips, his vein swelling on top, his whole body tensing.

“I’m going to come,” he warned suddenly, voice breaking. “Swallow it all, not a drop gets away.”

He came in a spasm that ran through his whole body. The first jet hit the back of my throat, hot, thick, salty. The second filled my mouth to overflowing. I choked a little, swallowed what I could, and the rest ran from the corner of my mouth, dripping down my chin and onto my chest. And I, without anyone touching my cunt, felt myself unravel inside, trembling from head to toe, coming in my thong with muffled moans around his cock.

I cleaned him slowly with my tongue until he was shining, sucking the last drop from the tip. Then I ran a finger over my chin, collected the cum that had spilled there, and put it into my mouth without taking my eyes off him. He watched me from above with a crooked smile.

“You’re incredible,” he said. “But we’re not done yet. Now it’s your turn.”

***

He lifted me off the floor as if I weighed nothing and laid me on my side across the bed. He settled behind me, his whole body pressed to mine, his heat covering my back. I felt his cock still wet against my ass, already hardening again.

“I’ve never done it… there,” I confessed in a whisper, suddenly scared. “I’m a virgin.”

“I know,” he answered, kissing my shoulder. “That’s why we’re going to take it slow. Trust me. I’m going to open you up nice and wide.”

He lifted my skirt carefully and pulled the thong aside. I felt his hot saliva fall where no one had ever touched me, and then his tongue, thick, wet, licking me unhurriedly from top to bottom. He opened me with his thumbs and sank his whole mouth against my cunt, sucking my clit, pushing his tongue inside me. I moaned into the pillow, twisting, and he held me by the hip so I couldn’t escape.

“You’re so fucking tasty inside… look how you’re dripping for me,” he murmured against my flesh, and his breath made me shiver.

He slid in one finger, slow, patient, opening me little by little. I felt it slip all the way inside and arched my back.

“Relax, Camila… let me in.”

One finger became two. The burning mixed with something new, a pressure that made me want more. He curved them inside, touching a spot that made me see lights. He kissed the nape of my neck, my throat, turned my face to seek my mouth with his tongue while he prepared me, letting me taste my own wetness mixed with his. I wasn’t thinking about anything anymore except him, except that cock he was about to put in me.

“Please,” I begged, grinding my ass against his hand. “Put it in already. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Now,” he murmured. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

He settled behind me. I felt the thick head rest against the entrance and held my breath. He pushed just a little and the tip went in with a sting that made me cry out into the pillow.

“Easy,” he said, still, giving me time. “Breathe. Loosen that little cunt for me.”

“Keep going…” I begged through my teeth, surprised by my own words. “Don’t stop. I want all of it. Put it all in.”

He advanced millimeter by millimeter, filling me slowly, stopping every time he heard me tense. I could feel him opening me from the inside, forcing space where there wasn’t any, wide, dense, endless. When at last it was all inside, his balls pressed against me, I let out a long, broken moan. The pain gave way to a sensation I couldn’t name, something rising from the base of my spine and clouding my head.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained, still inside me. “You feel how he fills you.”

“More…” was all I knew to answer. “Move, Uncle… fuck me…”

He started with short thrusts, measured, and little by little he found a rhythm. Every push drew a sharper moan out of me. I could feel his cock sliding out and then back in whole, dragging my wetness along its entire length, soaking the sheets under me.

***

He put me on all fours on the bed, my face against the mattress, hips raised, the thong hanging from one ankle. He held me by the waist with both hands, then spread my ass cheeks with his thumbs so he could watch himself going in and out. He started moving, first gently, then with more determination, each thrust deeper than the last, until his balls were slamming against me with every hit.

“Tell me you like it,” he demanded without stopping. “Tell me how you like it when I put it in you.”

“I love it…” I moaned, clutching the sheets in my fists. “Don’t stop, please… like that, hard, wreck my cunt…”

A slap exploded across my ass and the burn shot all the way up my back. Then another, harder. I screamed into the mattress.

“That’s it, whore, scream for me,” he growled, grabbing my hair and tugging until I arched. “Look at you, all drooling over my cock…”

The rhythm grew. The bed creaked, the headboard banged against the wall, the room filled with the sound of our bodies crashing together, with the obscene splashing of my soaked cunt, with my moans growing less and less contained. I pushed back, searching for him, impaling myself on his cock, completely lost in the sensation.

He flipped me onto my back in one movement, spread my legs wide open—heels pointing at the ceiling—and sank into me again, this time looking at my face. He bent down to suck my tits while he fucked me, biting my nipples until I howled. I hooked my legs around his waist, digging in with the heels, pulling him deeper.

“You’re mine from today on,” he said, bending to speak into my ear without slowing down. “This virgin cunt I just took is mine. Every Thursday you’re going to be waiting for me with your legs open.”

“Yes… I’m yours…” I replied without thinking, undone. “Come whenever you want, fuck me however you want…”

He put two fingers in my mouth and I felt them slide down to my clit, starting to rub it in circles while he kept pounding me mercilessly. It took only seconds. I felt myself come before he did, a wave that shook me to the core, staining the lace beneath me, clenching around his cock in uncontrollable spasms. The scream I let out was muffled when he covered my mouth with his hand.

“Quiet, quiet, the neighbors might hear you, slut…”

That was what finished pushing him over. His fingers tightened on my waist, his rhythm turned erratic, wild. I could feel him swelling inside me just before.

“Now me,” he panted. “All for you, inside…”

I felt him throbbing inside as he finished, hot spurt after hot spurt, filling me completely, overflowing past the edges of my cunt and running between my ass cheeks. He kept pushing slowly until the last drop, mixing everything together, leaving it deep inside me. I collapsed onto the bed, him on top of me, both of us panting, slick with sweat. He gently bit my ear. When he pulled away, I felt the warm stream leaking down my thighs, and I shuddered again.

***

We stayed like that a long time, getting our breath back. His weight on my back was strangely comforting. When he finally sat up, he turned my face to look at me. I saw his cock still thick, shining with my wetness and his cum, hanging between his legs.

“From now on this is between the two of us,” he said, serious but not threatening. “No one else has to know. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I answered, still dizzy, legs apart and all of him leaking out of me. “I understand. And I want you to come back.”

He dressed slowly while I watched from the bed, unable to move, my fingers idly playing in the cum dripping from me, bringing them to my mouth. He watched me do it and smiled. Before leaving, he leaned down and kissed my forehead, a gesture I hadn’t expected and that disarmed me more than anything before.

“Thursday,” he said from the doorway.

“Thursday,” I repeated.

When the door closed, I lay there among the tangled sheets, makeup smeared, lace soaked, my body still trembling and my cunt open and dripping his cum onto my mother’s bed. For the first time I didn’t feel ashamed of being Camila. On the contrary. For the first time someone had seen her whole and desired her without conditions, had fucked her the way a woman is fucked.

I got up with my legs still weak, looked at myself in the dressing-room mirror, and smiled. I had bite marks on my neck, dried cum on my chin, swollen lips. Seven days were left until the next Thursday, and I was already counting them one by one. This had only just begun, and I didn’t want it to ever end.