I wasn’t quite awake as I reached back to feel this thing on my hip.
I was lying on my side in bed and was still a little drunk from the wine I’d been given, and a little stoned from the weed as my fingers slipped down to rub the fleshy object and for a second I was confused until I felt further and realized it was a hard cock.
At first I pulled my hand away in shock but then I began to feel squishy and excited.
I reached back again and started rubbing and fondling the stiff member I suddenly had access to.
At that moment everything was still a bit hazy and dreamlike so questions like who that cock was attached to and why they were suddenly in bed with me hadn’t even occurred to me yet.
All I knew, or could even think about, right then was that I’d finally gotten a hold of some cock and I wanted to touch it.
I had just turned eighteen and I was as ripe as they get so my hormones were primed for action.
That’s actually why we’d gone to Uncle Phil’s place that night, to celebrate my birthday.
My parents promised me a real party in the summer with all my friends but for my actual birthday, May 7, we were invited to Uncle Phil’s and I didn’t mind.
He wasn’t a blood relative actually but more like a friend of the family.
I had known him pretty much my whole life and had even had a big crush on him when I was little on account of how kindly he’d always treated me.
And tonight had been no exception.
He prepared us a nice meal and broke out the good wine, and when he first poured me a glass my mother started to object but Uncle Phil simply said, “Come on Marge, it’s the kid’s birthday! The French give their little children wine and Sabrina is sixteen. Practically a woman.”
“Well okay.” Mom agreed reluctantly. “But not to much.”
With a wink Uncle Phil poured me some wine and I could help but let out an excited giggle.
The night wore on as and we finished dinner Uncle Phil would wait until my parents weren’t paying attention and signal me to drain my glass at which point I’d slip it under the table and he’d refill it.
At sixteen it wasn’t as if I’d never had alcohol before but I wasn’t a big drinker so after a few glasses I was quite tipsy and that’s when Uncle Phil surprised me again.
We had been talking about many different subjects and he kept subtly steering the conversation back to me.
It was my birthday and he was obviously committed to making me the center of attention.
It didn’t take long for me to figure out what he was doing and I loved him for it even if it was a little embarrassing.
Whenever he would ask my opinion or something I would giggle and I could feel my cheeks flushing hot as I responded.
Anyway somehow the subject of marijuana came up and Uncle Phil asked me bluntly, “You ever smoke pot Sabrina?”
I was taking a sip of wine and almost did a spit take but managed to swallow before giggling, “No!”
“It’s okay if you have.” he reassured me. “You aren’t gonna be in trouble or anything.”
“I know.” I groaned, wishing he’d change the subject.
Then my dad pipped in, slurring his speech ever so slightly, with that slightly exaggerated seriousness that drunk people sometimes get as he said, “No, he’s right honey, I mean you know if you’re experimenting with stuff your mother and I, we just want you to talk to us, like we want you to know you can talk to us.”
“That’s right dear.” my mother confirmed. “Whatever it is, anything, you can always come to me baby, I mean the stuff we did when we were your age!”
She began cackling and slapping my father on the arm playfully as he chuckled, “Oh I remember mama!”
“Really?” I asked, leaning forward and suddenly intensely interested.
But I guess Uncle Phil wasn’t having that because he said, “I don’t think we need to get into all that, but Sabrina, have you never tried it?”
“No!” I responded again, a little more firmly.
“Would you like to?” was his immediate follow up question.
I hadn’t been prepared for that, but since I had assumed it was an academic discussion I thought about it for a moment and then said in noncommittal tone, “Well sure, I guess I’d like to see what it’s like.”
Then he just left the table without saying a word.
I watched him leave the room, and feeling a little drunk, and more than a little confused I looked to my parents who were looking at me with odd grins.
My dad started letting out that sort of through the nose laugh, where you’re trying to suppress it but it doesn’t work.
Then my mom said to him, “He’s not, is he?”
My dad composed himself enough to chuckle, “It’ll be alright!”
By the time Uncle Phil returned moments later with a cigar box I was mystified and didn’t know what to expect.
He sat down and opened the box retrieving a hand rolled cigarette.
“Yeah, fire it up Phil!” my dad exclaimed.
He produced a cigarette lighter, and applied flame to the tip of the white cylinder, puffing it to life, before offering it to me.
“Here you go birthday girl.” he said in that slightly strained voice of someone attempting to speak without breathing out.
I took it, and the looked at my parents tentatively.
They smiled and motioned for me to hit it, so I did.
I hit it hard and coughed my brains out which was hilarious apparently because the adults laughed their asses off about that.
We all hit it a couple of times and by the time it was done my head was swimming.
We talked for a bit longer but after I yawned a second time Uncle Phil suggested, “Why don’t you guys stay the night?”
Mom opened with the obligatory, “We don’t want to impose.”
To which Phil gave the counter sign, “Nonsense, it’s no imposition.”
This little dance of social etiquette finally came to a conclusion when Phil pointed out, “You guys have had too much to drink, I just can’t let you drive. You two take my bed, I’ll put Sabrina in the guest room, and I’ll just sack out on the sofa.”
“Are you sure.” Mom clearly felt obligated to say again. “We don’t want to steal your bed.”
“It’s really not a big deal.” he scoffed. “That sofa is comfortable as shit.”
Then Uncle Phil turned to me and said, “You can grab a tshirt out of the the dresser in the guest bedroom sweetie.”
“Okay!” I chirped and immediately dashed to the bedroom.
I stripped down to my panties as soon as I entered the room.
After taking my bra off I rubbed at the underwire marks on my tits, and then caught a glimpse of myself in the floor length mirror.
I lifted a double D in each hand and dropped them, and then turned sideways patting my little tummy and giggling.
Normally I would think my tits were saggy and my stomach was fat but the alcohol and weed relaxed me to where I felt like cutting myself some slack I guess because as I put my hands on my big curvy hips I couldn’t help thinking, “Damn, I look pretty damn hot!”
Looking back on it now I realize that was a rare moment of self awareness because all modesty aside I was pretty hot shit back then.
I opened up a drawer, retrieved a soft tshirt, and slipped it on.
It hung to about midthigh and when I looked at myself in the mirror I couldn’t help noticing how good it made my breasts look.
My stiff nipples were poking through the soft fabric and couldn’t resist rubbing them and moaning out loud.
I was feeling kind of frisky when I headed back out to say goodnight to the other adults, as I suddenly thought of them.
When I walked back into the room they had a bottle of bourbon on the table and where each holding a glass.
They seemed to be having such a good time that I wanted to stay up with them, but then my body reminded me with a yawn and a wave of fatigue that it was sleepy time.
We said our goodnights and then on impulse I ran up and hugged Uncle Phil from behind, kissing him on the cheek and gushing, “Thanks Uncle Phil!”
It felt nice pressing my tits against his muscular back, and wrapping my arms around him as he replied with a chuckle, “I hope you know that it was my pleasure Sabrina.”
Like I said I had a crush on Phil when I was younger, and even though I hadn’t thought about it in years apparently I never really got over it because being close to him like this was suddenly making me horny.
My cheeks flushed hot and I was sure if I didn’t get out of there now they’d all smell my pussy getting wet.
I guess this was my first experience of marijuana induced paranoia.
“Goodnight!” I chirped, going to kiss him on the cheek again but he turned to say goodnight and I ended up kissing him on the lips instead.
I instantly bolted out of the room with mild chuckles and “goodnight”s chasing down the hall.
I managed to make it back to the bedroom, almost slam the door but catch it, closing it quietly, before bursting into a fit of giggles.
I ran over to the bed, leaping onto the mattress, burying my face in a pillow, and laughing hysterically.
I was already laughing at the idea that I had to leave because they might smell me.
I mean what the fuck was that about?
So silly!
And the idea of sex with Uncle Phil?
That was just crazy, and unthinkable, but the more I thought about it the less I was laughing.
After a moment I was just lying on my back panting for air from my oh so recent laughter fest, and I started really imagining sex with Uncle Phil.
Before long my hand snaked down and into my panties, and I began playing with myself to the fantasy of fucking Phil.
I had an orgasm to the image of him holding me down and fucking me.
After that I rolled over onto my side with a guilty smile on my lips, thinking, “It would be great if Uncle Phil could really be my first.”
After that I guess I fell asleep because the next thing I remember is waking up to Uncle Phil in bed with me, his hard cock resting against me.
As I said I was still kind of drunk and still a little high too so that combined with how unlikely this seemed, I don’t know, but I guess I thought I might be dreaming because I didn’t hesitate to wrap my fingers around the hard shaft and begin stroking it.
My pussy felt all tingly as I slowly stroked the cock behind me, and I got so into it that I let out a little moan.
That’s when a hand seemed to come out of nowhere and clamp firmly over my mouth as I heard Uncle Phil whisper in my ear, “Shhhhh, you don’t want to wake your parents.”
I was suddenly wide awake and very confused but also afraid of my parents finding me like this.
I started to pull my hand away, but then his other hand, which I suppose had been holding the base of his shaft, grabbed my hand.
I let out a tiny squeal of surprise, and then a whimper, a tear rolling down my cheek as he began slowly stroking himself with my hand.
“No you don’t want mom and dad to catch you playing with Uncle Phil’s cock you dirty girl. You’d be in so much trouble.”
Of course now I know that’s a crazy idea but at the time it really scared me.
Like I really bought that I had done something wrong and would get in trouble if my parents caught me.
It’s kind of scary how much power an authority figure can have over a young girl.
Enough to make her think she’ll get in trouble for being sexually molested.
He continued jacking himself off with my hand for a moment, but then whispered, “I’m gonna let go of your hand but you keep doing that, okay?”
I knew he wouldn’t be able to understand what I said with his hand over my mouth, plus I was afraid to make a peep lest my parents catch me being a “dirty girl” with Uncle Phil so I simply nodded my head.
He had obviously pulled my nightshirt up to my waist before resting his cock against my naked hip, but his hand snaked up under my shirt and began fondling my ample breasts.
As much as I was trying to stay quiet I couldn’t help letting out a high pitched yelp as he pinched my nipple, and a little whimper as he squeezed one of my tits.
His hand roamed all over, rubbing, caressing, and pinching my tummy and breasts.
Then his hand wandered down in between my legs.
I reflexively closed my legs tighter, shaking my head no, but he grasped my leg, pulling it across his legs, opening my thighs, tightening his grip on my mouth and shushing me.
Then he slid his hand under the waistband of my panties and began rubbing my moist little vagina.
His cock in my hand and his fingers skillfully playing in my creamy slit made my hips begin rolling but at the same time I was in a state of mental shock and emotional turmoil.
Why was Uncle Phil doing this to me?
What if my parents found out what I was doing?
At that point even though any reasonable person would call this rape I felt guilty for being stimulated, like it was my fault.
I was so scared and confused that I started sobbing, my eyes stinging with tears.
“Shh-shh-shh, it’s okay.” he tried to reassure me in a breathy whisper thick with lust. “I love you baby, my little Sabrina.”
As I wept and he continued rubbing my pussy I kept steadily stroking his cock, like I was afraid to stop.
Since my arm was behind me, my hand around his shaft, he’d sort of slipped his arm under mine to get to my pussy, so when he suddenly moved his hand up towards my head it kind of pushed my arm up, forcing my hand free of his cock momentarily.
Maybe I should have taken the opportunity to reclaim my hand but instead I instantly reached back to reacquire his stiff penis, feeling almost panicky that I would somehow be in trouble if I wasn’t jacking him off.
I had slammed my eyes shut when I’d started crying but when his hand moved up towards my face and his head leaned more into me my eyes instinctively snapped open to see what he was doing.
His face was close to mine as he began licking and sucking my juice from his fingers, making yummy sounds and finally whispering, “I love the taste of your sweet pussy Sabrina.”
His voice was slightly slurred, smelling of bourbon, and thick with a malevolent kind of lust that frightened me but weirdly made my pussy tingle at the same time which instantly made me feel guilty, but before I could even begin to get my head around that his hand flew down my body to once again dip into my wellspring.
He inadvertently pulled my hand up from around his cock again and this time I snatched it back.
In fact I quickly reached down and grasped his wrist, pulling at it in an attempt at resistance, finally, but he was much stronger than me, and my bodies response to this sense of powerlessness was for my pussy to feel all tingly.
Of course his fingers playing over my clitoris probably had something to do with it but in my mind at that moment it was my fault.
I felt like I was making this happen, like I’d wished it into existence, which is nonsense of course, but it felt very real at that moment.
I was like Red Riding Hood and I shouldn’t have teased the big bad wolf because now he was gonna eat me all up.
Uncle Phil had just been rubbing me up until that point so I let out a sharp little yelp of surprise behind his hand when one of his fingers suddenly penetrated me.
I whimpered as he twirled his finger around inside my little virgin hole before bringing it back up towards his mouth, but instead he removed his other hand from my mouth, kind of swinging it aside like a door, but keeping it resting against my head, holding it ready to clamp down any moment, and shoved his finger, dripping with my pussy juice, into my mouth.
I tried to turn my head away but he had a pretty firm grip on me with his other hand.
Now I had grasped his wrist in both my hands, trying desperately to pull it away but he didn’t budge.
His arm was solid like a mountain as he began finger fucking my mouth.
“Suck it you little whore!” he demanded in a harsh whisper.
I instantly complied, afraid to do otherwise, and although I held on to his wrist I stopped trying to pull it away as I sucked on the finger he was sliding in and out my mouth.
Since I couldn’t cry and suck effectively at the same time I sucked.
Instead of sobbing I moaned and whimpered as I sucked his finger, closing me eyes and imagining I was sucking a cock, as I had dreamed of so many times.
I had started secretly watching porn a while back and the last couple of months I’d become kind of obsessed with cock sucking videos.
“That’s my girl.” Uncle Phil encouraged. “Taste your sweet pussy juice.”
I had been masturbating regularly since I was relatively young so of course I’d tasted my own juices before.
It’s not my favorite flavor or anything but I don’t mind it.
Besides soon it was gone and for a brief moment I was able to block out that this was Uncle Phil’s finger and pretend it was a cock I was sucking.
I moaned and whimpered, a bit of saliva dribbling down my chin when he suddenly pulled his finger out from in between my sucking lips, making a tiny popping sound.
As he pulled his hand away I released his wrist and whimpered, “Uncle Phil, why rrrfuunnooommee?”
I had tried to say “Uncle Phil, why are you doing this to me?” but the last part was muffled when his hand clamped back down over my mouth.
When he withdrew his other hand behind me, and then pushed my leg off of his, closing my thighs I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that maybe it was finally over, that is until I felt his hand slip into the waistband of my panties and begin pulling them down over my ass.
Of course I was lying on my side which would have made them hard to get down but he’d anticipated that little snag so he commanded, “Help me get these panties down Sabrina.”
Without thinking I lifted my hip, and grabbed the other side of my panties on the top hip, helping Uncle Phil pull them quickly down to about mid thigh.
I didn’t know why I had complied so quickly except to say that I was just used to obeying him, besides the fact that although my brain may have been confused my body seemed to know exactly what it wanted.
It didn’t take long before I could feel something pushing in between my moist swollen labia, and although I knew I should be resisting, and that this was all wrong, my body betrayed me again.
Instead of pushing away, screaming, biting his hand, or any of the myriad other things I could have done to resist I arched my back, presenting my wet little pussy to him for penetration, and that’s exactly what he had in mind as I soon discovered.
I had thought that his hand clamping down over my mouth had woken me up but then I felt him penetrating me and my eyes went wide with terror as I was suddenly fully cognizant of what was happening.
Uncle Phil was raping me.
I let out a shriek and started to struggle but he gripped my hip tight with one hand while his other squeezed my mouth harder, hurting me a little as he shushed me, adding with a menacing tone, “You’d better be a good girl Sabrina.”
I began sobbing again as his hips went into motion, first just using quick, shallow thrusts, but then going in a little deeper every few thrusts.
The pitch and frequency of my cries varied involuntarily based on his thrust so that by the time he’d buried it inside me all the way to the hilt, his hips pressing firmly against my ass, I ran out of breath during his slow insertion, and was forced to breathe in hard through my nose.
After taking a couple of deep breaths I started sobbing again as Uncle Phil whispered in my ear, “Shh, it’s okay precocious baby, Uncle Phil’s just making a woman out of you.”
“Nnn, mmphmm!” I whimpered, trying to say “No Uncle Phil!” as he slowly rubbed his hips up and down, stretching my little hole.
Then he pulled out to the tip, causing my to inhale deeply before letting out a long low grunt as he slowly drove all the way back in.
Then he did it again, and again, and each time he penetrated me a I found myself grunting out a long, “Nnnuuuuuggghhh!”
Before long he began pumping his hips a little faster, gradually increasing his speed, and my vocalization kept pace with him so that by the time he was really fucking me hard, his hips slapping my round ass, I was barking, “Nuh, nuh, nuh nuh!” in sharp reports.
I felt so violated and helpless, but I also felt guilty because as wrong as it was another thing I felt was this hard cock thrusting into my pussy and it was getting me off.
Those grunts were “No!”s muffled by Uncle Phil’s hand as I tried to fight the rising tide of my orgasm, but the more I fought it the stronger it seemed to get until it finally overcame me.
My eyes rolled back in my head, and my body quivered as the ecstasy rippled through me, and I reached back, grasping the wrist of the hand Uncle Phil had on my hip, squeezing hard before I began pumping my hips wildly, pushing my ass back to meet his thrusts.
I was grunting like an animal so I could barely understand Uncle Phil as he said in a breathy whisper, “Oh yeah, that’s a good girl Sabrina, take that cock like a good little girl, take Uncle Phil’s cock.”
That woke me slightly from my lust filled haze to feel ashamed.
For one blissful moment this was just a man having sex with a woman but then he reminded me that no, this was a young girl being raped by her middle aged “uncle” and enjoying it like a slut.
I had asked for this is what I was thinking and as fucked up as it sounds that idea was suddenly freeing.
If I had asked for it and I was a bad girl then maybe I should enjoy it, and that’s why I kept my hips in motion even after my orgasm finished off.
If Uncle Phil wanted some pussy I was gonna give him some pussy he’d never forget.
It was like I flipped a switch and all the fear, anger, confusion, all the feelings I had about what Uncle Phil was doing to me just got thrown into fucking his brains out.
Despite my inexperience I must have been doing something right because it wasn’t long after my little attitude adjustment that Phil began chanting, “Oh God, I’m gonna cum baby, I’m gonna cum inside you, I’m gonna fill you up Sabrina!”
Fear flashed through me as I realized that he could impregnate me.
It wasn’t like I was on birth control, but as much as it terrified me it also excited me.
It was so naughty and just plain wrong that before I knew it I was getting off again.
I barked out a tiny high pitched shriek, my body then seized with orgasmic spasms, and my pussy rhythmically squeezing his thrusting cock.
I’d stopped pumping my hips, arched my back and sticking out my ass to offer him the deepest penetration possible.
My hand had slipped from his wrist to his hand, my other hand finally grasping the hand over my mouth.
He let me pull his hand away from my mouth and I immediately turned my head back towards him, opening my mouth to accept the tongue I knew was coming.
We shared a sloppy sideways tongue kiss as he fucked me but then he broke from it suddenly panting harder before saying in a strained whisper, “Here it comes Sabrina, here it comes baby.”
He just kept slamming into me for a moment and then let out a sharp grunt as he drove into me and stayed there for a second before pulling out a little then driving back in with a moan.
He then began pulling back slowly and popping my butt as he quickly drove back in, grunting out on each stroke, “Fuuck, yeeah, Saab, rina, take it!”
And with every stroke I could practically feel his cock pumping his seed into my belly, and I actually threw my own hand over my mouth to muffle the tiny shrieks each thrust provoked.
Then his stroke gradually slowed until he finally drove all the way back into my cum filled pussy.
I gripped his forearm as his hand slid off my hip and under my shirt, caressing and fondling my body as the hand still resting on the side on my head guided my face back towards his.
I removed my hand from my mouth and immediately accepted his hot tongue.
I couldn’t help moaning and whimpering as we shared a sloppy French kiss with cock buried inside me as one hand explored my body, and the other firmly held my head.
I was once again momentarily lost in the purity of the moment where we were just a man and a woman making love but then he once again pulled me back to reality when he broke from our kiss, and panted in my ear, “You’re such a good girl Sabrina. You took your Uncle Phil’s cock like a champ. You like feeling my sperm inside your little pussy, don’t you sweetheart?”
He began gently but firmly rubbing my tummy as he whispered filthy things in my ear, occasionally pulling his cock out a little and diving back in.
My cheeks flushed hot as I panted to regain my breath, my head was swimming so that I didn’t even realize he was asking me a question until he repeated it with another hard thrust, “Don’t you like feeling my cum inside you Sabrina?”
I didn’t know what to say so I stuttered, “Ye-yes s-s-sir.”
“Yes sir what?” he coaxed slyly.
I didn’t want to say it because it felt too much like admitting to my own complicity but I also couldn’t stop myself so it was with a sense of horrified detachment that I heard myself whimpering, “I love yo-your sperm in-inside me Uncle Phil.”
The most horrific thing was that I actually meant it.
Despite how wrong I knew it all was I’d never felt so sexually satisfied in my young life.
Now there was no question of calling it rape in my mind.
Whatever Uncle Phil had done to me I was now his accomplice and I knew I would never be able to say no to him.
I was his to do with as he pleased.
With that realization a strange sense of peace settled over me.
As if it was out of my hands now, and as Phil whispered into my ear, rubbing my belly, I guess I eventually drifted off to sleep.
I’m not sure how long I was out but the next thing I remember is Uncle Phil shaking me awake and insisting, “Come on Sabrina, we have to get you cleaned up before your parents get up.”
For a second I was confused.
Why was Uncle Phil in bed with me? Why were my panties down?
Then I felt a thick glob of cum slip out of my pussy and it all came flooding back.
But before my mind could deal with that Uncle Phil was helping me out of my panties and taking the tshirt off of me before marching me out the bedroom door.
As Uncle Phil guided me down the hallway towards the bathroom to clean me up I was still a little groggy and had no Earthly idea that this night was about to go from bizarre to totally fucking bonkers.
To be continued…