That Summer I Dressed Only for My Uncle

After that first time, everything inside me started to change. I wanted to make myself up more, to choose each item of clothing carefully, but no longer for my own pleasure: I did it only for him. Only so he would look me up and down, give me his approval with that half-smile of his, and then slowly start taking my clothes off. I was in love, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it, not even to myself.

I got out of university a few days before everyone else, as was already customary thanks to my good grades. I got home on a Wednesday afternoon, just as my family sat down to dinner. They called me over right away to join the table.

My father was in a good mood. He congratulated me on my grades and, between mouthfuls, let slip something that threw me off balance.

—Your uncle told me you wanted to work over the holidays. It seemed like a good idea to me, so I told him yes.

I looked up from my plate, confused.

—Work? It was only a comment, Dad. I didn’t confirm anything.

—Well, it’s already been arranged. Get your things ready, you’re going with him tomorrow.

—Okay —I said, pretending not to care—. I’ll pack my bag now.

As soon as I finished, I locked myself in my room and wrote to him. I didn’t understand what game he was playing at.

Why did you talk to them without telling me?

It took him a minute to answer.

Easy, little niece. The job is real: I’m going to remodel the house. I thought you’d like us to spend more time together.

—I do want that —I murmured as I typed—, but at your house it’s very risky.

With the lock on, we’re safe. Your aunt leaves at six in the morning and doesn’t get back until seven at night. We have the whole day to ourselves. Besides, I bought you a few little things.

—Oh, yeah? What things?

Tomorrow, when you come, I’ll show you.

I turned off the light with my heart racing. I went to shower and carefully shave, until my skin was so soft I could barely recognize it to the touch. Then I packed my bag: a pink thong with the matching bra, a white blouse, a miniskirt in the same shade, my heels, the wig, a pair of pink stockings, and the makeup case. I fell asleep thinking about him.

***

By six in the morning I was already up. Before leaving, a message from him arrived.

Go to the bathroom first, I left your surprise there. Then go to the guest room, I’ll be waiting there. Kisses.

—I’m coming, darling —I replied, and almost ran out.

I didn’t want to waste a single minute. When I got there I went straight into the bathroom, and what I found melted me: a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a handwritten card. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this alive, and it’s all thanks to you. I love making you mine.”

I loved him a little more in that instant. I changed in a hurry and went to find him. He was lying on the bed, naked, waiting for me. When he saw me come in all dressed up—because he had never seen me dressed—he was left open-mouthed.

—Wow, babe. You look gorgeous. I feel like after this you’re going to charge me, and not cheap —he said, laughing.

—Why do you say that? —I asked, amused.

—Because you look like one of those girls on the street. The expensive ones, though.

—And do you like me looking like this?

—I love it. Come on, dance for me.

I obeyed. I had the faintest idea how you danced for someone like that, but I let myself go as best I could, and when I looked at him I understood that he was really enjoying it. I moved closer, as sexily as I knew how, and started kissing him from the knee upward, climbing his thigh until I reached his erection. I ran my tongue over the tip first, teasing, making him wait. Then I took him in my lips slowly, letting him feel every movement, until I began going faster, deeper, so much that I was breathless at times.

He lifted me by the shoulders and turned me around so my back was to him.

He took out some handcuffs and secured my wrists. He pushed me onto the bed until he had me on all fours, with everything at his mercy. He massaged me with a delicacy that contrasted with the strength of his hands, lifted my skirt and started kissing my ass, slowly, until my whole body prickled. He prepared me carefully, checked that I was ready, and, moving my thong aside, entered me in one stroke until I felt his pelvis slam against me.

The thrusts kept changing rhythm: hard and then slow, slow and then brutal. He gave me little spanks and whispered things in my ear that only made me hotter, things I’d rather keep to myself. When he was close, he turned me again, stood up, and made me kneel. I already knew what came next, so I stuck out my tongue to receive him. He didn’t disappoint: he came in spurts, more than my mouth could hold.

I collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. He lay down beside me. We stayed silent for several minutes, not moving, until he got up, turned me face down, and used my own thong to wipe away what was left of his release. When he settled it back on me, I felt that sticky warmth between my legs. He took off the handcuffs, opened his wallet, and tossed a few bills onto my back.

—Go on, shower and change —he said.

That gesture made me feel used. And yet, I liked that feeling too.

***

The following days were a strange mix of work and play. We painted walls, moved furniture, and all the while kept looking for any excuse to meet up. What started as a one-off surprise turned into a routine: every time I arrived at his house, a different costume was waiting for me in the bathroom.

I was his maid, his nurse, his teacher, his student, his secretary. I was the pizza girl and the customer who receives the plumber. The last of those games was the one that marked us most: waiting for me was a plug with a tail, a yellow thong, his matching bra, sky-high heels, and a headband with ears. He put a collar with a leash on me and made me walk on all fours all over the house, repeating that I was the prettiest pet he’d ever had, that he’d take me to the park to show me off.

All of that turned me on in ways you can’t imagine, and it did the same to him. We enjoyed every minute we spent alone. Don’t think it was two weeks: eight months went by, and I liked the direction things had taken between us. But everything that begins must end, and this was no exception.

***

Over time, he started acting strange. He asked me to mingle with more people, to go out dressed as a girl to some bar, said that if I wanted to experiment he could introduce me to some friends. He even set me up with one of them at the park, although that didn’t work at first; but that’s a story for another time.

His insistence left me unsettled. I noticed he was growing more and more distant. He stopped texting me, we stopped seeing each other. I decided to go look for him to understand what was going on, but just as I was leaving home, my mother stopped me.

—Where are you going?

—Out with some friends —I lied.

—On your way, take this suitcase to your uncle and aunt.

—Why?

—Your aunt was offered a better position in another state. They’re moving with your uncle in a few days.

The news hit me like a bucket of ice water. Almost in tears, I rushed over to his house. When I got there, my aunt was there, so I had to swallow my urge to hug him, to scream at him not to go. He was the one who made me sit down.

—I’m so sorry, but as you’ll know, I’m leaving with your aunt.

—Why? Can’t you stay?

—No, I can’t. I’m sorry.

—And can’t we keep doing what we have been?

—Lower your voice —he whispered—. No, we can’t. Most likely we’ll stay there and I don’t know when we’ll be able to come back.

—Now I understand —I said, my voice breaking—. That’s why you wanted me to go out with other people.

—Yes. I didn’t want to leave you alone and sad. I wanted to leave you with someone who would take care of you.

—But I don’t want anyone else. I want you.

—I’m sorry. I can’t.

—At least, can we say goodbye properly?

—I don’t think so. We’re leaving in a little while.

—Then… a hug?

—A hug, yes.

I hugged him with all my strength, not wanting to let him go. He squeezed one of my ass cheeks and slipped something into the back pocket of my pants. We pulled apart. I wished him luck and told him I’d be there for him whenever he wanted me. He smiled and asked me, in a low voice, to give his friend a chance. At that moment my aunt came in. I said goodbye to both of them and went back home in pieces, even though I had to pretend I was fine.

I locked myself in my room and lay down crying. Then I remembered what he had slipped into my pocket. It was a letter.

“Dear Renata: today I let you go, because you deserve to keep moving forward, and I would only be holding you back. I loved everything that happened between us. I’ll keep as a memory being the first man in your life, but I also know I won’t be the only one or the last. You are a wonderful girl, charming and very beautiful; anyone would want to be with you. Take very good care of yourself and hopefully we’ll see each other soon. P.S.: your father boasted to me that you’d be quite the ladies’ man, that you’d have them at your feet. If he knew that you’re the girl at men’s feet… Goodbye, beautiful. I love you very much.”

I kept that letter with enormous affection, along with the little notes he left me on each visit. I smiled through my tears: I knew he had truly loved me. But it was already an impossible love, and all I had left was to move on.

***

I mourned for a full week. The following week, I decided to go back to the park, to the place where everything had begun. I dressed in the same clothes as that first day, sat on the same bench, and bought myself an ice cream to watch people go by.

Suddenly, hands covered my eyes. I was scared, because I didn’t know anyone there. When they let go and I turned around, it was Bruno: the guy I had met months earlier, the one my uncle had gotten jealous over.

—Hey, gorgeous. Do you remember me? —he said.

—Of course I remember you.

—Good. I thought you didn’t, since you never answered my message.

—Sorry about that.

—No worries. Hey, and today your bodyguard isn’t coming?

—My bodyguard?

—Yeah, the guy who was looking after you last time. He almost hit me, you know?

—No, he’s not coming today —I laughed—. He’s gone now.

—And what was he to you?

—My uncle.

—We both know he was something more than your uncle, right?

I didn’t answer, I just laughed, and that was enough for him.

—I figured as much. So he’s not around here anymore?

—He moved to another state.

—So you ended it?

—That’s right.

—Great.

—Why “great”? —I asked.

—Nothing —he smiled—. Just saying.

—Do you want to make a move or what?

—Well, if there’s a chance, I might just do that.

—There is a chance —I said, looking him in the eyes.

—Sounds perfect to me. And how old are you, really?

—Twenty. And you?

—Thirty-one. Damn, you’re really young.

—I know.

—Would you really give me a chance?

—Mmm. I don’t know. Maybe.

He got serious for a moment.

—Then I need to be straight with you. If we ever became something, you should know we’d only see each other when I can, and always here or somewhere without people. My family sees me as their example: to them I’m the manly guy who plays soccer and has a bunch of women after him. It’s complicated. I hope you understand.

—Don’t worry, I completely understand. It’s the same for me: my family thinks I’m quite the ladies’ man, and as you can see, I’m not. If anything happens between us, it’ll be discreet.

—Thanks for understanding.

—No need. Well, I have to go.

—Already?

—Home. Why? Were you planning to take me somewhere else?

—No, I was just saying. Bye then.

I stood up, and with the movement my skirt rode up too far, leaving part of my ass visible. I started walking and Bruno caught up with me in two long strides.

—One question.

—Go ahead.

—Those big ass cheeks… are they natural?

—They are. Why?

—Curiosity. Can I touch them?

—Too bad we’re here —I said, biting my lip.

—Come on. I know a place where we’ll be alone.

***

He took me in his car almost to the outskirts of the city. He turned onto a dirt road until we reached a lonely river, surrounded by willow trees. As soon as he killed the engine, I went for him. I kissed him and he kissed me back while he pressed me against the seat, his hands firm on my ass. Without saying a word, he unbuttoned his pants and let out a beautiful erection, a little bigger than my uncle’s.

I lowered my head and sucked him with real hunger, savoring every movement. But he barely lasted: he came right away, and to make it worse, it was little. I sat up and he apologized, embarrassed, as we got ourselves together to head back.

—It was the moment —he said on the way—. Next time we’ll do it properly, I promise.

—It’s fine —I answered, though inside I felt a sting of disappointment.

He dropped me off near my car. When I got home, he texted me.

Despite everything, I loved your kisses. You kiss so damn well, nobody had ever done it like you. Your lips are way too sexy. I hope I can see you again.

—Thanks —I replied—. Of course. Just tell me when and we’ll meet up.

Next week. Dress very nicely, because I’m bringing you a surprise.

—I’ll be there.

The truth is, I liked him, a lot. But when it came down to it, he couldn’t last for anything, and that brought me down. Even so, I went to see him again.

What happened afterward with Bruno, and that other story with my uncle’s friend, I’ll tell you later. For now, that’s it.