Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
The events described here are approximately correct. I say approximately because they happened over 25 years ago so things like dialogue have slipped from memory but the events themselves are still pretty clear.
In Cambridge Massachusetts there used to be a club named the Manray. It sat in one of the seedier parts of the city but even so the Manray was a popular destination. Depending upon the day of the week determined the theme being presented. For the most part they offered live music from local bands. But one days a week, Friday, was fetish night. The central theme being bondage and domination, masters and mistresses and their supplicants. I went more as an observer than a participant. But when I did participate is was as a master of a woman I knew, there were actually several but usually they did not show up all at the same time.
Friday night I arrived with no expectation of seeing anyone I knew. Being a voyeur, I enjoyed what was called “the scene.” It was arousing, titillating. I had not been there very long, and had had only a single drink at that point when I saw someone who I can only describe as the last person I would have expected to see, my niece Anne Marie. I watched her for a few minutes to see if she would notice me but when she didn’t I sidled over to her and said, “Anne Marie, what are you doing here?” She preferred to be called but her full name.
“Uncle Peter, what are you doing here?”
I remember immediately wishing she had not asked that question. I chose to not lie about it and said, “I come here pretty regularly to meet up with friends.”
“Oh, so you’re here with someone tonight?”
“No, but I had nothing else going on so I came to watch.” I was fairly recently divorced at the time and was in the process of discovering my sexual side. “Can I buy you a drink?”
She said yes enthusiastically, and she got her screw driver, I got my beer. Anne Marie is really smart but she is also very shy which was another reason I was surprised to see her there, and unaccompanied at that.
I was dressed all in black and she was dressed in a frilly sort of top which showed off her more than ample bosom and a very short skirt, maybe a mini-skirt, which revealed really nice legs.
Our evening was spent commenting on what we saw and drinking. By 11 o’clock or so, Anne Marie was extremely drunk. I had managed to stay sober first because I was pretty focused on Anne Marie and what she was saying but also with the knowledge that I did not want to drive drunk.
Some time just before midnight I suggested to the very drunk Anne Marie that it was probably a good time to leave, the crowd that had started the night had thinned considerably by that time anyway. I asked her how she got there but could not get an intelligible answer from her, so I told her I would take her home. We both lived in Newton at that time. But there was one problem, I did not know where she lived. When I asked her where she gave me the street name, but it was not a street I was familiar with and Anne Marie was incapable of giving intelligible directions. I lived in the Newton Corner portion of the city but Newton is a particularly large city area wise so trying to figure out where her street might be was an exercise in futility.
I decided to take her to my place and let her sleep it off. When we got to my house Anne Marie noticed it was not where she lived but when I told her it was my place and that she could stay the night. She did not resist. I did not live alone. I lived with another guy and it being a two-bedroom house left me with limited choices of where to sleep. I had a queen-sized bed which I thought would be plenty large enough for us to share. I took her to the bedroom and only removed her shoes before getting her to lie down etiler eve gelen escort and then pull the covers over her. I stripped down to my underwear and a tee shirt I liked to sleep in and that was it for the night.
I was nudged awake the next morning by Anne Marie. Upon reflection I think it was fortunate that when she woke up I was facing her. Still, she told me she was a bit shocked to wake up in my bed.
“You were so drunk last night. And I don’t know where you live so I thought this would be the best thing.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” She looked under the covers. “You left me fully clothed. How come?”
“Well, it’s not like you’re wearing a whole lot to begin with, so I didn’t see the harm.” It was at that point I noticed one of her breasts had freed itself. “Um, you might want to fix that though,” I said pointing at her breast.
“Ooops,” she said as she quickly pushed it back under her top. “I noticed you didn’t stop looking. Are you really the perv mom says you are?”
Just to clarify that question, I had taken my daughters to a nudist camp that a woman who I was dating was a member of. She assured me it was quite family friendly and it turned out that was entirely true, no funny stuff going on. But when my sister had found out she really laid into me.
“Of course I am! Just not like your mom thinks.”
“We were both at the Manray last night, so what does that say about both of us?”
“I see your point.”
“Anne Marie, I always thought you were so conservative and then I see you there. Why’d you go?”
She took in a very deep breath before responding, “You know how hard a time I have finding boyfriends? Well, I go there in hopes that some guy will pick me up.”
“So do they?”
“Well, a few have tried but mostly I tell them I’m not interested. I have to go to the bathroom, where is it?”
“Out the door and to the right.”
“You, this may sound strange, but I feel really cruddy. Would you mind if I take a shower?”
I did think the request rather strange but got her a large bath towel from my closet. I also gave her my soap dish and offered an apology for the state of the bathroom I knew she would find. She seemed quite nonplussed by my comments.
She wasn’t gone two minutes when I realized I had to go to the bathroom really badly and it was not going to wait. There being only the one bathroom in the house I was forced to knock on the door and asked if she minded if I peed, that I was in desperate straits. She said she did not mind at all. And so I did.
Afterwards I went back to the bedroom and just lay down on the top of the bed. It was early July and the room was quite comfortably warm. While I lay there I tried to understand why my niece had been at “the scene” and what she was really all about. Of course I could not come to any conclusion. But what I had no considered was when my niece re-entered the bedroom she would see me in a state of undress she had never experienced. Worse, my thoughts had left me feeling a bit aroused but fortunately not hard. Still, it was impossible not to notice.
When Anne Marie re-appeared she was wrapped solely in my bath towel and was carrying her clothes. She tossed her clothes on a chair in the room and lay down next to me. “So um, what were you thinking?”
I had no idea what she was talking about, clueless would be appropriate and told her I did not know what she meant.
She pointed at my somewhat aroused cock.
“Ah shit.” I said.
“Were you thinking about me?”
“Well, yes, but I was just trying to figure out your being at the Manray.”
“Really, and that was enough to get you aroused?”
She was calling me on my shit etiler grup yapan escort and showing me a side of her I did not know existed. It was my turn to take the deep breath before saying, “Well, I can’t get the image of your breast out of my mind.”
“I don’t get it,” she said and then she shocked me by lowering the towel so both of her breasts were in full view. “What is it with men and the tit obsession?”
“It’s just the way we’re built.” My answer made her laugh.
I gave her my theory on men and their obsession with women’s breasts. She listened intently, as if I were a professor giving expert definite. Nothing could be further from the truth. But the truth that day lay in the fact that while I was saying this I had become fully aroused and boy did it show.
When I finished we just lay there looking at each other. Then something came over me and I reached out and felt one of her tits. I thought the second my hand touched her it would get slapped away and I would get a tongue lashing. But that did not happen and so I continued to press, squeeze and prod her breasts.
As if under some sort of a spell, I reached out and pulled her into me, into a hug. She did not resist at all. I ceased to see her as my niece but as a beautiful woman I desired. At the time she was 20 and I was 44. But the age difference dissolved as did any sense of propriety and morality. She was not resisting and I was not about to stop. The coup de grace was as I hugged her my hard cock pressed into one of her thighs, not something she could have missed.
I then reached up between us and felt her breasts again, although this time I light pinched her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. Her nipple hardened very quickly. The next thing I knew I felt her hand between my legs searching out my cock. Anne Marie suddenly said, “this is wrong.” But she did not push away from me nor did she release my cock from her grip.
I was, if briefly, brought back to my senses. “I know, do you want to stop?” “I don’t know. I mean, I know it’s wrong, my mind is screaming it’s wrong. But then there’s this part of me telling me how good it feels and to not stop.”
“Quite the dilemma, huh?”
“Yeah, what do you think?”
I had no idea what to think as I was just as conflicted as was she. “Well, I think even what we’ve done so far is considered incest. Isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. I guess so.”
“Anne Marie, I have to be honest. I have no desire to stop even as wrong as I know it is.”
“Yeah, me too.”
I got out of bed, took off my tee shirt and underpants and threw them on top of the chair where her clothes were. I lay back down next to her and pulled her into a hug once again. Then I put my hand along side her face and kissed her. At first it was just a lip kiss but that quickly changed as I pushed my tongue between her welcoming lips and sought out her tongue. Our kiss was quickly turned into one of passion, as if we were already lovers who found it impossible to keep out hand off each other. While we were kissing I push my hand down beneath the towel that was still partially wrapped around her and found her pussy. As I ran my finger between her pussy lips I found her to be exceptionally wet.
I find a wet pussy impossible to stay away from so I pulled the towel off her and started kissing her down her body. I stopped at her breasts long enough to kiss each one, to suck in each nipple and gently bite each as it became hard. I then moved the rest of the way down to her pussy where I pushed my tongue between her pussy lips and found her hard clit. The 1990s were different for women’s vaginas in that few shaved their pussies or even trimmed them. That never bother me though although I had etiler masöz escort never had an experience with a particularly hairy woman. Anne Marie’s pussy was somewhat sparse in hair probably having to do with her being a natural blond.
There is nothing sweeter to me than the scent of a woman you find between her legs. It is something I revel in and Anne Marie’s scent was extremely delicate. But it was that scent that held my face close to her pussy and allowed me to lick it up and down and then to suck in her clit and run the tip of my tongue around her clit and then over the top of it. The first time my mouth took in her clit she responded with a pronounced moan. Then I felt her hands on the back of my head and pressing gently on it as if to insure I would not stop licking her. I really enjoy licking a pussy and Anne Marie’s “out of bounds” pussy was particularly inviting to me. Although I would occasionally lick the length of her pussy, I paid the most attention to her clit desiring to bring her to orgasm quickly. It worked because within a couple of minutes Anne Marie orgasmed rather strongly, enough so that I could feel her ejaculation in my mouth and around my face. It was delicious.
This is where my ego steps in and I don’t stop licking her and suckling on her clit. At this point all I wanted to do was to find that portion of her clit that was ultra-sensitive and which would quickly bring her to a second orgasm. I found it and concentrated on that part of her clit. I would say that in less than a minute she came again. I persisted until she came a third time and then a fourth time. I was going for a fifth time when she pleaded with me to stop as she had become so sensitive it had also become extremely ticklish and had lost its sexual appeal.
Without even asking her, I moved up from between her legs and momentarily allowed the head of my cock to probe her extremely wet pussy. I love the initial feel of pussy lips around the tip of my cock. But after three or four slight probes of her pussy lips, I then firm pushed my cock deep into her pussy and then very slowly slipped it back out before again firmly pushing it in. Anne Marie’s pussy was particularly tight and that tightness made me feel like I would quickly explode inside her. I didn’t want that so I tried to distract my mind from how arousing our incestuous sex felt and how delightful her tight and velvety feeling her pussy was as it surrounded my cock. But I failed in I don’t think I lasted a single minute before I came extremely strongly into her womb. My orgasm felt like it came from my feet moving quickly and hotly up my legs to my cock. And even though my orgasm did not last all that long, what man’s does, the tightness of her pussy help keep me hard for an extended period during which I slowly moved in and out of her. For her part Anne Marie kept repeating, “Oh my god, that feels so good!” After several minutes I rolled off her but once on my side I pulled her into me so I could feel her naked tits pressed against my chest. Another feeling I love. And her full breasts certainly felt wonderfully against me.
Finally Anne Marie said, “Uncle Peter, I have a confession.”
I thought that a strange thing to say but went along with it and asked her what it was.
“I’m not on birth control.”
“Ah shit, really?”
Of course there was no “morning after” pill in those days. Then it occurred to me to ask, “Where are you in your cycle.”
“The wrong part?” She asked this as if questioning her own self-knowledge.
“Yeah, I’m sorry.”
I had wanted to have more sex with her that day but this revelation killed any further desire. I guess I was in a bit of shock. We each came to the only reasonable response, we’d just have to wait it out. And if she was pregnant, and because we are Catholic which meant abortion was not an option, we’d figure it out then. Well, as it turned out, her “friend” showed up right on time and a deep sigh of relieve was felt. But now I knew where she lived, which turned out to be very close to me, and my desire to be with her again came back strongly.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32