That Summer I Dressed Only for My Uncle

After that first time, everything started to change inside me. I wanted to doll myself up more, to choose every piece 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 embarrassed to admit it, not even to myself.

I got out of university a few days earlier than the rest, as was already customary, thanks to my good grades. I got home on a Wednesday afternoon, just as my family was sitting down to dinner. They called me over right away to join them at the table.

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

—Your uncle told me you wanted to work this vacation. I thought it was a good idea, so I told him yes.

I looked up from my plate, confused.

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

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

—All right —I said, pretending to be annoyed—. I’ll pack my bag now.

As soon as I finished, I locked myself in my room and texted 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 reply.

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

—Yes, I do want to —I murmured as I typed—, but at your place it’s very risky.

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

—Oh, really? What things?

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

I turned the light off with my heart racing. I went to shower so I could shave carefully, until my skin was so soft I could barely recognize it by touch. I ran a soapy finger between my ass cheeks, imagining my uncle’s cock forcing its way in there again, and just thinking about it made me hard under the sponge. I held back the urge to come; I wanted to arrive at his house loaded, with my ass clenched and my balls full for him. Then I packed my bag: a pink thong with its matching bra, a white blouse, a miniskirt in the same color, my heels, the wig, a couple of pink stockings, and the makeup bag. I fell asleep thinking about him, with my hand between my legs and not daring to do any more.

***

At six in the morning I was already up. Before I left, 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 on my way, baby —I replied, and practically 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 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 —I adjusted the pink thong snugly between my ass cheeks, settled the silicone breasts inside the bra, pulled the stockings up to mid-thigh, put on the wig, and painted my lips a sticky red I knew drove him crazy— and went looking for him. He was lying naked on the bed, with his cock already half-hard resting on his stomach, waiting for me. When he saw me walk in all made up like that —because he had never seen me dressed before— his jaw dropped.

—Wow, babe. You look beautiful. I feel like after this you’re going to charge me, and charge me dearly —he said, laughing.

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

—Because you look like those street girls. The expensive ones, though.

—And do you like me looking like this?

—I love it. Come on, dance for me.

I obeyed. I had no idea how you were supposed to dance for someone like that, but I let myself go as best I could, and when I looked at him I understood he was really enjoying it. I watched his cock get thicker against his stomach, swollen and red at the tip, and that gave me the courage I’d been missing. I climbed onto the bed on all fours, shaking my ass encased in the pink thong a hand’s breadth from his face, and he bit my cheek, making me let out a low moan. I turned and started kissing him from the knee upward, climbing along his thigh with my tongue wet and eager, sucking the skin on the inside until I reached his erection. I licked the tip first, teasing, gathering the thick drop already peeking from the slit. I tasted him slowly, looking him in the eye, and smiled with glossy lips.

—You taste so good, uncle —I whispered.

—Shut up and suck me properly, niece.

I opened my mouth and swallowed him whole in one motion, no hurry, letting his cock fill my throat until my nose pressed against his pubic mound. I stayed there for a few seconds, feeling his cock throbbing inside me, and then I began moving up and down in a slow, deep rhythm, letting the spit run down my chin and soak his balls. I sucked the tip with my lips tight, then went down to lick his balls one by one, taking them into my mouth, tugging them gently. He grabbed my wig and started setting the pace, fucking my mouth however he wanted, until my eyes filled with tears and saliva hung from my chin in strings.

—That’s it, my whore —he growled—, choke on this cock, that’s what I give it to you for.

I was running out of air, but I didn’t want him to stop. When he noticed I was almost choking, he pulled his cock out of my mouth and let me catch my breath, my face a mess of spit and smeared lipstick.

He lifted me by the shoulders and turned me around with my back to him. He took a pair of handcuffs from the nightstand drawer and locked my wrists behind my back with a metallic click that made me tremble all over. He pushed me onto the bed until I was on all fours, face against the mattress, ass lifted and completely at his mercy. He pulled my skirt up over my waist and stared at me for a while, patting my buttocks, pushing my thong aside so he could see my little asshole up close.

—Look at you, niece —he said, burying his thumb in my entrance—. This little ass of yours opens up all by itself for me now.

He massaged me with a delicacy that contrasted with the strength of his hands and started kissing my ass cheeks, slowly, until my whole skin prickled. Then he spread my cheeks with his thumbs and planted his tongue on my hole, soaking it completely. He sucked, licked, and pushed the tip in, pressing it against the ring until I felt myself opening up from sheer relaxation. I bit the sheet to keep from screaming. When he was done, he spit on my entrance, coated his cock well, checked that I was ready, and, moving my thong aside, entered in one go until I felt his pelvis slam against me and his balls hit me underneath.

I let out a long moan, half pain and half pleasure, and he stayed still inside, enjoying the way my ass clenched around his cock.

—You’re so tight today, my love. Open up, I’ve only just started.

He began fucking me slowly, pulling almost all the way out and then driving back in to the hilt. His thrusts changed rhythm: hard and then slow, slow and then brutal, so deep I could feel the tip pushing inside me. He gave me little spanks that left my ass cheeks red and whispered things in my ear that turned me on even more: that I was his little bitch, that this ass belonged to him, that he was going to come inside to mark me, things I’d rather keep to myself and that at that moment had my cock trapped inside my thong leaking pre-cum. He grabbed my wig like someone taking the reins of a mare and fucked me with my head thrown back, mouth open, my pink heels dangling in the air every time he drove into me.

—Tell me you’re my whore —he panted.

—I’m your whore, uncle. Keep going, don’t stop, rip my ass apart.

—Like this?

—Like that, like that, harder, please.

He drove a sharp thrust into my depths and I came without touching myself, with my cock trapped inside my thong, soaking the lining completely with hot cum. My whole ass clenched around his cock and that pushed him to the edge. When he was close, he yanked it out all at once —the emptiness hit me like a lash—, turned me around again, stood up, and made me kneel in front of him, my hands still cuffed behind my back. I already knew what was coming, so I stuck out my tongue to receive him. He jerked his cock two, three times in front of my face and did not disappoint: he finished in ropes, in long, thick spurts that crossed my cheek, filled my mouth, and hung from my chin in strings, more than my mouth could hold. He made me swallow what had gone inside and then ran the tip of his cock over my lips, cleaning the last drops into my mouth.

—Good girl —he whispered—. Swallow it all.

I collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, with semen drying on my face and my ass throbbing from how open he’d left me. He lay down beside me. We stayed silent for several minutes, without moving, until he got up, put me face down, and, with my own thong —the lining still sticky with my own orgasm—, wiped what was left between his ass cheeks and along the crack of his ass. When he pulled it back into place, I felt that sticky warmth between my legs, mixed with the spit he’d left down there. He took off the handcuffs, opened his wallet, and tossed some bills onto my back.

—Go on, take a shower and get changed —he said.

That gesture made me feel used, treated like just another whore like the ones he’d mentioned before. And yet I liked that feeling too. I picked up the bills with my teeth, looking at him, and he laughed and gave me one last slap on the ass.

***

The following days were a strange mix of work and play. We painted walls, moved furniture, and in between we kept finding any excuse to meet up. It didn’t matter where we were: if he caught me up a ladder painting the ceiling, he’d stand underneath me, pull my thong aside, and eat my ass until I dropped the brush from my hand. If I bent down to clean the baseboard, I ended up with my skirt around my waist and my uncle’s cock buried to the hilt, fucking me against the wall still wet with paint.

What started as a one-time surprise became a routine: every time I arrived at his house, there was a different costume waiting for me in the bathroom. I was his maid —he fucked me on top of the dining table, with the duster still in my hand—; his nurse —he’d lie on the bed pretending to be sick and I had to “check” his cock with my mouth until he came between my fake breasts—; his teacher, his student punished and made to lift her skirt so he could spank my ass with a ruler before he put it in; his secretary bent over the desk; the pizza delivery girl and the desperate client receiving the plumber with nothing under her robe. The last of those games was the one that marked us both the most: he was waiting for me with a butt plug and tail, a yellow thong, his matching bra, very high heels, and a headband with ears. He made me coat the plug with lube and insert it in front of him, slowly, until it was seated and the tail hung between my butt cheeks. He put a collar and leash on me and made me walk on all fours through the house, tugging my neck, spanking me every two steps, repeating that I was the prettiest pet he’d ever had, that he’d take me to the park to show me off. When he was done, he yanked the plug out in one pull and mounted me right there, on the kitchen floor, fucking me with the leash wrapped around his wrist until he filled my ass with semen and made me lick what dripped down his cock.

All of it lit me up in a way 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 has to end, and this was no exception.

***

In time, he started behaving strangely. He asked me to socialize more, to go out dressed as a girl to some bar, said that if I wanted to experiment he could introduce me to a few friends. He even set me up on a date with one of them in the park, though that didn’t work out at first; but that’s a story for another time.

His insistence puzzled me. I noticed he was becoming more and more distant. He stopped texting me; we stopped seeing each other. I decided to go find him to understand what was happening, but just as I was leaving home, my mother stopped me.

—Where are you going?

—Out with some friends —I lied.

—While you’re at it, take this suitcase to your aunt and uncle.

—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 crying, I raced to his house. When I got there, my aunt was there, so I had to hold back the urge to hug him, to scream at him not to go. It was he who made me sit down.

—I’m very sorry, but you already 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?

—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 go. He squeezed one ass cheek hard, slid a finger between the fabric to brush my hole over my pants —one last, intimate farewell, understood only by me— and slipped something into my back pocket. We separated. I wished him luck and told him I’d be there for him whenever he wanted. He smiled and quietly asked me to give his friend a chance. Just then my aunt came in. I said goodbye to both of them and went back home in pieces, though I had to pretend I was fine.

I locked myself in my room and lay down crying. Then I remembered what he’d 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 having been the first man in your life, but I also know I won’t be the only one or the last. You’re a wonderful girl, charming and very beautiful; anyone would want to be with you. Take very good care of yourself and I hope we see each other soon. P.S.: your father bragged to me that you’d be quite a heartbreaker with women, that you’d have them at your feet. If he knew that you’re the girl at the feet of men… Goodbye, beautiful. I love you very much.”

I kept that letter with enormous affection, along with the little notes he left me on every 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 kept mourning for a whole week. The next, I decided to go back to the park, to the place where it had all 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 pass by. I licked it slowly, deliberately sticking out my tongue, knowing that more than one guy was watching me sidelong from the benches across the way.

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

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

—Of course I remember you.

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

—Sorry about that.

—Don’t worry. Hey, and is your bodyguard not coming today?

—My bodyguard?

—Yeah, the man who was taking care of you last time. He nearly 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 more than your uncle, right?

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

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

—He moved to another state.

—So you two broke up?

—That’s right.

—That’s great.

—Why “great”? —I asked.

—Nothing —he smiled—. Just saying.

—Do you want to try your luck or what?

—Well, if there’s a chance, maybe I do.

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

—Perfect. And how old are you, really?

—Twenty. And you?

—Thirty-one. Damn, you’re very young.

—I know.

—Would you really give me a chance?

—Mm. I don’t know. Maybe.

He got serious for a moment.

—Then I need to be straight with you. If we become something, you should know we’d only see each other when I can, and always here or somewhere with no 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 understand perfectly. It’s the same for me: my family thinks I’m a real heartthrob, and as you can see, I’m not. If anything happens between us, it’ll be discreet.

—Thanks for understanding.

—No need to thank me. Well, I’ve got 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 much, exposing part of my ass and the edge of my thong tucked between my cheeks. I started walking and Bruno caught up to me in two strides.

—One question.

—Ask.

—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 drove me almost to the outskirts of the city. He turned down a dirt road to a lonely river surrounded by willows. As soon as he turned off the engine, I went for him. I kissed him with my tongue deep in his mouth, sucking his lips like I was dying of thirst, and he kissed me back while pressing me against the seat, his hands firm on my ass, squeezing, parting my butt cheeks over my clothes. Without saying a word, he unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his boxers, letting out a beautiful cock, thick, a little bigger than my uncle’s, hard as a rock and with the tip already wet from how aroused he was.

—Suck me —he told me, voice rough—. Suck this cock, beautiful, because I’ve spent months thinking about your little mouth.

I lowered my head without making him wait. I ran my tongue along its whole length, from the balls to the tip, soaking it well, and took it into my mouth slowly, letting it fill me centimeter by centimeter. I sucked it hard, savoring every movement, tightening my lips on the way up, loosening them on the way down, pulling it out now and then to lick the crown in circles and take it back to the hilt. I stroked his balls with one hand while holding the base with the other, and I felt his whole body tense beneath me, his legs starting to tremble against the seat.

—Wait, wait, slower —he moaned—, I’m about to…

But he barely held on: he came almost immediately, without giving me time to do anything, in a couple of short spurts that barely filled half my mouth. And to make it worse, it was little: a few thick drops that I swallowed almost out of obligation. I sat back up and he apologized, embarrassed, his cock already softening between his fingers, as we got ourselves settled to head back.

—It was the moment —he said on the way—. Next time we’ll do it properly, I promise. I’ve just been a wreck for weeks thinking about you; the second I saw that ass, everything went downhill.

—It’s okay —I answered, though inside I felt a pang of disappointment. With my uncle, a blowjob like that had been barely the appetizer; with him it had been the whole meal.

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

Despite everything, I loved your kisses. You kiss deliciously; no one had ever done it like you. Your lips are way too sexy. I hope I can see you again.

—Thank you —I replied—. Of course. Just tell me when and we’ll see each other.

Next week. Dress very pretty, because I’ve got a surprise for you.

—I’ll be there.

Truth was, I liked him, a lot. But when it came down to it, he couldn’t hold out at all, and that brought me down. Even so, I went to see him again.

What happened later with Bruno, and that other story with my uncle’s friend, I’ll tell you another time. For now, that’s as far as it goes.