Crying “Uncle”

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Being the black sheep of the family is a 24 hour job. It’s not always easy but, hey, somebody’s got to do it.

My stunning annual performance comes every Thanksgiving when the whole family gathers at my sister’s house to eat turkey and dressing and discuss what an utter disappointment I am.

By their standards, I guess it’s true. My sister, the architect, is married to a neuro-surgeon and has begat a brood of lawyers, doctors and investment brokers. My father, the CEO and my mother, the state senator, had much higher hopes for me, I’m sure. But I’ve got a trailer at the beach and my Harley and my freedom has always been much more important to me than a large investment portfolio.

Of all the family, my sister’s daughter Aimee is the most like me. She barely made it through high school and dropped out of junior college after three months. With her long blonde hair, firm looking perkies and tight abs developed from years of chain-smoking, she was having no problems getting laid and really had no ambitions higher than that. Because of that, we became allies against the conformity demonstrated by the rest of the family.

When I headed out to my sister’s backyard for an after-feast smoke, Aimee came with me, bumming a cig and telling me how fed up she was getting with living with her folks.

“They’re killing me, Pete,” she said, blowing a blue-gray cloud of smoke out of her lungs. The little diamond in her nostril post sparkled in the late afternoon sun.

“I know what you mean,” I told her. “I only have to deal with them for one day a year and I’m about to blow my brains out.”

We laughed and bonded like we always do — us against them — and finished off my pack of smokes.

When I’d had all I could take, I made with the formal goodbyes and went out to get on the Hog. Aimee was straddling the seat wearing her leather jacket and a pair of jeans that made her ass look absolutely edible. “Take me with you?” she pleaded.

I brushed a tear off her cheek. “Can’t do it, honey. They hate me already.” She pressed her face to my hand. “Hang in there. You’ll make your escape.”

I roared off wishing I had her arms around me, holding on.

Several months later I was enjoying a relaxing smoke when I heard the knock at the door of my trailer. I quickly hid the blunt in the bathroom. When I opened the door, there was Aimee, sunburned and wearing a bikini top and cut off blue jeans. “Hey Uncle Pete,” she said, smiling up at me from the bottom step. “I made my escape.”

She stepped up to the open door and put her arms around my neck, kissing my cheek. She smelled of clean teenage sweat and tobacco. I couldn’t help but run my rough hands down her sticky back.

“I hitched,” she told me.

“I istanbul escort guess I don’t need to tell you how dangerous that is.”

She shrugged. “It’s only rape when you don’t want it.” She kissed me on the lips. “Mmmmm,” she said. “Can I have some?”

I retrieved the joint and passed it to her. We sat on my Salvation Army-special couch and she held the joint to her lips, taking a long, slow pull and holding it before blowing the smoke into the room. She passed it back to me and I took a hit while staring at her long pinkish-tan legs and the smooth pink tops of her young breasts.

“What?” she asked, noticing me looking.

“You are one smokin’ little girl,” I told her.

She smiled and winked. “About fuckin’ time you noticed,” she said.

I ran my hand up her leg, feeling the mahogany-smooth texture of her upper thigh. She stood up in front of me. “I’ve been thinking about a new career,” she said, turning around and showing me her ass. She started moving her hips to the beat of a silent tune as she first unbuttoned and then unzipped her shorts. She bent from the waist, her ass right in front of my face, and peeled them down and off, all the while looking over her shoulder at me.

She wasn’t wearing panties. Her untanned ass shone white in front of me as she continued moving and undulating.

Her hands went next to her bikini top. She expertly unclasped and slid it off while quickly covering her pert breasts with her arm. When she turned, I saw her smoothly shaved pussy dancing before me. She slowly dropped her arm, cupping her breasts in her hands and massaging the nipples.

“I’m thinking about being a dancer,” she said. She pirouetted and reached behind her, putting her hands on my thighs and lowering her naked butt to the front of my shorts. “Want a lap dance, Uncle Pete?” she asked, as she ground her ass into my hard on.

I was high and horny and likely would have let her continue even if I wasn’t. She was that fucking beautiful.

She had an intricate tattoo design right above her buttocks and I was hypnotized by its movement over my swelling cock. She would touch my lap lightly with her hips, raise up and sway that smooth, unblemished ass right above me, then grind hard and moan.

“Oh God,” she said. “Wouldn’t Mom shit if she saw me now?”

“Your mom had her share of wild experiences, even though she tries to act like she didn’t,” I told her.

She stopped moving and looked back at me. “Really?”

“The things I could tell you. But…another time, ok?”

Aimee giggled and turned around to face me. She settled into my lap and kissed me hard, her tongue pressing into my mouth. I put my hands on her smooth ass and moved her around on my cock, şişli escort still trapped in my shorts but begging to escape.

She broke the kiss breathlessly and leaned back, offering her firm young breasts to my lips. I teased one nipple, then the other with my greedy tongue as she moaned and watched.

“God, Uncle Pete, is that all you?” She shifted her pussy and looked down at my lap.

“You’re huge. I may not be able to take all that.”

“You never know until you try.”

Aimee slid down my legs until her knees were on the floor in front of me. She unsnapped and unzipped my shorts and pulled them down with my underwear until my cock popped free and slapped my belly.

“Fuck!” she said. She wrapped both of her soft hands around the shaft and a good two to three inches still stuck out, purple head oozing precum down the exposed shaft. “I can’t even get you all in my hands,” she said. “I’ll never get it in my mouth.”

She rubbed the head on her cheek and left a trail of slick precum. She ran her tongue around the head, then sucked it into her mouth. Her cheek pulsed as she rubbed me on the inside of her mouth.

“Oh God, Aimee.”

She took me out of her mouth and drooled spit over the length of my shaft, pumping me with her hands and getting me lubricated. I pulled her long hair back and watched her mouth take me back inside. She raised up slightly and I could see the muscles in her neck stretch as she drew more and more of my hard dick down her throat. The head was at the back of her mouth and I felt her swallowing. I was already deeper in her throat than I’d ever been in any woman’s and the sensation was incredible.

She held me there for a few seconds, then pulled her head back quickly, gasping for air.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever taken that much before,” she said.

I pushed her onto her back on the floor. My cock had never been so hard and I couldn’t wait to find out how tight Aimee was. But I could smell how aroused she was and I needed a taste of this slick young pussy before I fouled it with my own dripping juices.

I put my arms under her legs and opened her wide, sliding my tongue the length of her tight slit. She cried out and thrust her hips at my mouth. I sucked her hard pink nub and slipped my middle finger into her cunt. She was right. I was going to have a little trouble getting my dick in there. Her pussy squeezed me like a Chinese finger trap.

But she was aroused and flowing and tasted like a savory broth. It was the most delicious pussy I’d ever tasted and I loved how her juice felt on my cheeks and chin.

Aimee was writhing under me. She put a hand on the back of my head and pulled me harder against mecidiyeköy escort her clit. Her juices were running down her crack and puddling on the floor. As I moved one finger in her twat, I pressed another into her ass.

Aimee went wild, bucking and swearing. She came in a spray over my lips and I was so fucking aroused that I didn’t even let her catch her breath.

I climbed on top of her tight young body and put the head of my cock at her cunt. Aimee was turning her head from side to side, saying, “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

With a quick push of my hips, I was in her. Her eyes opened wide and her face turned red and I felt her nails clawing at my back. Fortunately, I still had my t-shirt on or she would have ripped my flesh to ribbons.

I pumped that tight young pussy and listened to her animal grunts and the squish, squish of my cock driving into her like a plunger. I couldn’t tell if she was experiencing pleasure or pain but when I slowed my thrusting, she started bucking her hips up against me to resume the assault on her pussy. She was loving it.

I pinned her arms over her head with one hand and she rocked and struggled against me. Her eyes were glazed. She really liked it rough.

I pulled my cock out of her abruptly and she cried out in surprise. I quickly rolled her on to her hands and knees on the floor and pulled that pretty ass up. Then I held her wrists behind her back, pressing her cheek to the floor as I rammed my cock into her pussy from behind.

Aimee gasped and cried out.

“You like that, don’t you?” I asked her.

“Yes,” she moaned, her face still pressed to the floor.

“You like being treated like a whore?”

“Oh yes,” she said. “Make me your whore.”

I slapped her ass with my free hand and watched as a bright red hand print formed on her alabaster ass. “You’re just a slut,” I told her.

“Ahhhhggg,” was all she could manage.

I slapped her ass again and she jumped. “Say uncle,” I told her.

“Uncle,” she cried.


“Uncle. Oh fuck me, Uncle Pete!”

She came with a scream. Her whole body began to spasm and I could feel the fluttering squeeze of her tight pussy. I pulled out and shot my white hot load all over her pretty tattoo and up her back into her hair. When I leg go of her wrists, Aimee collapsed on the floor, panting and shuddering. I laid down on top of her, moving her hair to kiss the back of her neck. I could feel her heart beating.

Eventually, she rolled over and I took her into my arms.

“God Pete,” she said. “You’re the only one in the family who understands me.”

“We’re a lot alike,” I told her.

She chuckled. “I’ll never believe my mother was as wild as I am.”

“Well,” I told her, “she was nowhere near as good a fuck.”

Aimee’s eyes grew wide. “You…fucked…my mother?”

“Not for almost 20 years,” I told her.

It only took a moment for my “niece” to realize why we were so much alike.

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