AUTHOR = Switch Blayde
E-MAIL = switch_blayde@hotmail.com
| AUTHOR's NOTE - © 2006 by Switch Blayde. All Rights Reserved. Copying, Duplicating, Downloading, Reposting, or use in any way, other than for the reader's personal enjoyment, is STRICTLY prohibited without the written consent of the author.. |
Have you ever thought "the grass is greener elsewhere" or that "it can't get any worse"? I have... but I was wrong -- dead wrong!
Most likely it was my fairytale childhood that gave me a false sense of security. I had a loving mother and father and lived in middle class suburbia. My dad worked hard and brought in a good income, and my mother was one of those old-fashioned stay-at-home moms who saw to my every need. I did well in school and had many friends. My good looks didn't hurt either, giving me the confidence necessary to succeed.
But my childhood paradise evaporated in my seventeenth year because of a sweet old man. An old man who was an upstanding citizen. An old man who had raised a family, doted on his grandchildren, and attended church every Sunday. An old man with bad eyesight and worse reflexes. An old man who lost his flexibility and couldn't twist enough to see completely behind him. An old man whose mind wasn't as sharp as it had been when he was younger.
My English class was interrupted by the click of the classroom door opening. The awkward freshman looked nervously at the room of seniors staring at him. He tried to be cool, down to his ridiculous haircut -- shaved in the back with bushy bangs dangling in his eyes. He actually stumbled as he walked towards the teacher, handing her a note. Mrs. Jenkins ignored our chuckles and unfolded the paper, reading it silently. Confused, she looked up.
I was shocked when she called my name. I had been summoned to the principal's office. The boy had quickly departed after receiving a nod from Mrs. Jenkins and I walked alone through the deserted halls. I kept thinking, "What did I do?" since I had never gotten into trouble before.
Entering the principal's office, I knew something was amiss when I saw my father sitting in a chair with his elbows on his knees and his face cupped in his hands. The pitiful expression on his face when he looked up left a sunken feeling in the pit of my stomach. I knew I was not in trouble when he stood up and took my hand, silently leading me out of the principal's office. I looked over my shoulder at the principal and saw her ashen face; her watery eyes following us.
In the car, I kept asking my father what was wrong and why he took me out of school, but he remained silent all the way home. It wasn't until we were inside our house that my dad burst into tears and crumbled to his hands and knees. I dropped to the floor and held him in my arms, cradling his face to my chest, until his sobbing subsided. It was only then that I heard the news that changed my life.
The old man was backing up his car in the supermarket parking lot at the same time my mother was pushing a cart full of groceries, enjoying the beautiful spring day. The confused old man meant to slam on the brakes but pressed down on the gas pedal instead.
After the funeral I returned to school, but my grades began to falter. I had a difficult time dealing with the loss of my mother. I didn't think anything could be worse than losing my best friend and role model. But then my father began drinking. After my mother died I became a recluse, moping in my room, but my father turned to alcohol to numb his pain. So I'd be alone in my bedroom sulking and my father would sit in the den drinking.
This went on for months and my father was getting worse. I heard fragments of conversations indicating my father's work was affected just like my school grades. He not only drank more and more, but he let himself go, always needing a shave and looking disheveled. I tried to console him, but he'd yell at me and we'd get into an argument. So I avoided my father as much as I could. That is, until the day after my eighteenth birthday.
My father came home from work early, something that was becoming the norm, and disappeared into the den. I was fuming in my room, cursing him under my breath for having forgotten my birthday. My mother wouldn't have, how could my father? I decided to have it out with him right then and there and went down to the den. I hesitated, nervously standing outside, then sucked in a lungful of air for courage and opened the door. I remember how dark and gloomy the room looked. My father's head was cradled in the crook of his arm on the desktop. The 3/4 empty bottle of scotch was standing upright and a glass was lying on its side next to his hand.
"Dad, we have to talk," I said, sounding more self-assured than I was.
My father lethargically turned his head and stared through glazed, bloodshot eyes. There was a brief moment of recognition when he looked up at me, but his eyes instantly drifted until he found what he was searching for. My dad incoherently mumbled something while reaching for the bottle. Believing the alcohol was the cause of all my misfortune, I leapt, grabbing the bottle first. He seemed dazed and looked for the missing bottle, then his eyes spotted it dangling from my hand. My dad lunged forward and, when I quickly stepped back, fell face first to the floor with his arm extended.
"Gimme that," he slurred.
"Dad, you had enough."
"Shut up!"
His loud, almost violent shout startled me and I dropped the bottle. There was a thud and then the bottle rolled on the floor. It was an awful sight to see him lying there watching the liquor spill onto the carpet. When he realized his precious drink was being wasted, my father reached for the bottle but all he did was push it further away and cause the rest of the liquor to spill out. The look on my father's face when he stared up at me caused me to fear him for the first time in my life. I bolted from the den and ran to my bedroom where I locked the door and huddled on the floor next to the bed.
The doorknob jiggled and I looked up in fright. It was only when silence returned that I realized I hadn't been breathing. I took a deep breath and then held it when I heard the loud crash as my door flung open, slivers of wood flying into the room. The look on my drunken father's face was dark and mean.
"Who do you think you are?" he slurred, staggering into the room.
"Please, Dad, I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Who do you think you are?"
"You already said that."
I guess that was the wrong thing to say. My father lunged at me, grabbing my upper arms and shaking me. I was afraid and tried to break free. He lifted my petite, 5'2" 95 pound body as if it was weightless and flung me onto the bed. I was dressed for sleeping, wearing only a long tee-shirt that came to mid-thigh. However, in the ruckus, my tee-shirt rose to my waist. When I saw my father staring between my splayed legs I quickly snapped them together and yanked my shirt down.
The expression on my father's face changed. It was one I had never seen before. Confused, I stared up at him, and then he pounced on me. I struggled under his large frame, but was smothered by his size. I felt him moving on top of me, but didn't know what he was doing. That is until he used his knees to force my legs apart and pressed his now freed hard cock against my pussy. I panicked and pounded my father with my fists, but he was in a dark place that didn't hear my screams. And then my yelling turned to a shriek as he forced his cock into me.
I know it sounds old fashioned, but I was saving myself for my wedding night. That was something my mother instilled in me. Sure I "made out" with boys, but French-kissing and letting boys fondle my tits was as far as I had gone. I would use my hand later when alone to release the sexual pressure built up in my body, but I was steadfast to stay pure.
And now my father's cock was inside me, shattering any dreams of giving my virginity to my future husband. I felt dizzy as his large body hovered over my small one, his unshaven face grunting like an animal and his hips thrusting his cock in and out of me. The pain was immense, but the tears streaming down my face was caused more by the knowledge that the man I had trusted my whole life was violating me. Thankfully my father didn't last long and his large body smothered mine while he spurted sperm into my no longer virgin pussy.
I cried even harder.
After a while my father's breathing changed and I realized he had fallen asleep. I used all my strength to push him off and, when he rolled onto his back, I jumped from the bed.
In the bathroom, I pulled my tee-shirt off and saw the blood staining it. I sank to my knees and cupped my face in my palms, crying like a baby. I felt betrayed and dirty so I ran a hot bath. The water stung between my legs, but it soothed my stressed body and mind. I lay there until the water cooled enough to force me out. Not wanting to be anywhere near my father, I went into the guest room and fell asleep.
When I awoke, I lay in bed thinking that my whole world had gone mad. I didn't think anything worse than my mother dying could happen to me, but I was wrong. Not only was my father a shell of the man he used to be, but he raped me. He violently took my innocence and purity. My own father! What could be worse than that?
I was soon to find out.
I heard my father sluggishly moving about. I was sure his head hurt with a hangover, and I was glad. He hurt me and I wanted him to suffer. He looked a mess when he poked his head into the guest room.
"Did you sleep here last night?" he asked.
"Yes," I said curtly.
"Sandy, I slept in your bed. There was blood on the sheet and... and, um... I had dried blood on my... um..." My father must have seen the look on my face because he felt weak in the legs and leaned against the doorframe. He cried out, "Oh god, I couldn't have," and stormed out of the room.
When I went downstairs my father was nowhere to be found. It wasn't until dark that he returned home. He looked at me pitifully, but I just turned my back on him and went to my bedroom. I heard my father whimpering as I walked away from him.
I stayed in my room for over an hour, contemplating what to do. I still loved my father, even though he raped me. I finally came to the realization that it had been the liquor, and probably loneliness, that caused my father to act the way he had. He was a good man and I knew he loved me. What was done was done and I needed the love of my remaining parent. I got out of bed and went to tell him I forgave him.
BANG!
The thunderous sound startled me to immobility. When I recovered, I ran through the house like a maniac until I came to the den. Hesitating a moment, I flung the door open and fainted when I saw my father lying on the floor, the smoking gun still in his hand and blood pooling under his head. I guess he couldn't handle the shame of what he had done and my rejection. If only he had waited another 5 minutes.
My life had gotten worse. I now lost both parents.
My father's sister, my only relative, told me I could stay with her. I hadn't seen Aunt Julie since I was a little girl because there was some sort of riff between her and my dad. I didn't want to move in with her, but my father was negligent paying bills, including his life insurance premium and the mortgage payments. I found out that he had lost his job and there was no money left. Once the house was sold, the money went to pay his debts. So I was alone and broke and agreed to move in with my aunt.
Aunt Julie had a farm far from a small town. I was a city girl and the thought of living on a farm wasn't appealing. I had just graduated from high school and had planned to go to college, but those plans were changed. Aunt Julie said she didn't have the money to send me to college.
My life was getting worse.
I packed my belongings and said goodbye to the life I had known. I threw my suitcases into the back of the old, rusted pick-up truck and Aunt Julie drove me to my new home. When we got there it looked worse than I had imagined. It was dusty and the house and barn needed a paint job badly. And we were miles from anyone else.
I didn't remember my Uncle Max or my two cousins, Jerry and Fred. Uncle Max was an overweight burley man with a dark beard. My cousins were both older than me, but not by much. Fred was 19 and Jerry 21. They were both in overalls and grubby looking. I didn't think I was going to like living with them, but I had no choice.
It was dinnertime when we arrived so, after taking my suitcases to the small room that would be my new home, we sat down to a noisy dinner with people reaching clear across the table to grab food. After dinner I told them I was tired and retreated to my bedroom. For the first time since I could remember, I wore panties under my tee-shirt.
I awoke the next morning to someone touching me. Sleepily, I begrudgingly opened my eyes and it took time to focus in the early morning light. I saw my cousin Fred standing over me. I felt chilled and looked down. The blanket was around my knees and the hem of my tee-shirt was high enough in the front for my panties to show. I suddenly became completely alert and pushed my tee-shirt down, and then pulled the cover up. I had the strange feeling that my cousin had been staring at me for a while and, by the look on his face, may have had something to do with my being exposed.
"What are you doing here?" I said angrily.
"Mum told me to get you up. Everyone else is already up."
"How'd you get in here?"
"The locks are busted. So I just came in."
"Why didn't you knock?"
"Dunno. Seemed better to just come in."
"Okay, I'm up. You can leave now."
Without another word, Fred turned and walked out. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was breathing erratically. This was so unlike my old world.
Unlike the others who gobbled down a huge breakfast, I ate sparingly. I wasn't used to getting up so early and I was still upset about my cousin coming into my room and exposing my body to his leering eyes. I was going to complain to my aunt about Fred after breakfast, but I didn't get the chance. As soon as everyone left to do their chores, Aunt Julie told me to clean up the kitchen mess and unceremoniously disappeared.
I was stunned. Sure I helped out in my old household, but this was different. My aunt spoke to me like a lowly servant. But I had nowhere to go so I washed all the pots, pans, and skillets, and then cleared the table, washing the dishes, glasses, and silverware too. I thought it was odd that they didn't have a dishwasher, but there didn't seem to be much money in this family.
When I completed my task I returned to my room. As with my previous life, I felt solace in being alone. But no sooner had I stretched out on my bed that my aunt stormed into my room without knocking.
"Can I get the lock fi---?" I began, but was quickly interrupted.
"Young lady, in this house we all work. You will clean the bathrooms next."
"What!? I'm not your servant!"
"If you want to live here you will do as you are told. Your weak father may have raised a lazy daughter, but that will change."
"My father wasn't weak. He was a great man. He just..."
"Quiet! I'm done talking. If you want to live here, you'll have to work."
Aunt Julie did an about face and briskly left. I was stunned. What kind of people were they? But then I realized everyone else was doing chores so maybe I wasn't being mistreated. I cleaned all the bathrooms, something I had never done before. By the time I finished and showered, it was lunchtime.
I dragged my tired body to the kitchen and plopped into a chair. Everyone else was already reaching for food, stuffing it into their mouths while talking. I felt nauseated by their uncouth behavior. However, I was hungry from my hard work and ate a substantial lunch.
"Fred asked for your help cleaning the barn," Uncle Max said after lunch. "He'll show you what to do."
Again I was speechless. I was exhausted, and required to do more work. I couldn't believe how much worse my life had become and thought it couldn't get worse. I was so naïve I actually believed that.
When I entered the barn I was amazed at its cleanliness. I guess I thought it would be like the garage in my old house. We just seemed to pile junk in it, never being able to find anything. But the barn was neat and well organized, with rakes, shovels, pitchforks, etc. in their place. I noticed the cows in stalls on one side.
"Are we going to milk them?" I asked, now somewhat interested.
"We do the milkin' in the mornin'."
I felt foolish and realized there was a lot about farm life I didn't know. Looking around, I wondered what we were going to do.
"Some of that hay needs shoveling down," Fred said as if he read my mind.
I followed his pointing finger to an upper level where bales of hay were stored. My cousin nudged me towards a ladder which I climbed. Stopping halfway up, I looked over my shoulder. Fred was right behind me, staring at my ass. I hastened my pace until I reached the top. Fred was right behind me and tackled me. I thought he was playing and started giggling, but then I felt his weight on top of me and it was no longer funny.
When I felt Fred's leg wedge between mine I got angry and began bucking like a rodeo horse, trying to throw him off my back. But he held on tight and reached under my body, cupping one of my breasts.
"Get off me!" I screamed, squirming harder. "This isn't funny."
"You have nice titties," Fred said, squeezing one. "I was gonna see one when you woke."
"You did uncover me, you bastard. I'm going to tell your mother!"
"She don't care. She said we could play with you."
"She didn't."
"Did so. She said it would give her some rest."
"Get off me!"
"You're a little spitfire, ain't ya. No matter. The more the buckin', the better the fuckin'."
I thought Fred was going to get off me when he rose up a little, but was surprised when he grabbed my shirt and pulled it over my head. My bare breasts were pressed into the hay covering the floor of the loft. I have small, perky tits and never wear a bra. Fred grabbed me and flipped me onto my back. He sat on my knees and, when he began undoing my belt, I had a decision to make. Do I cover my breasts or do I try to stop him from undressing me further. It was an easy choice. I began punching him which left my breasts exposed.
Fred captured my flaying arms in his and pinned them to my sides. My tits were completely uncovered and he stopped to stare at them. He lowered his face to my chest and began sucking one tit. I kept struggling, but to no avail. He was much too strong.
When Fred had his fill of my tits, he held both wrists in one of his large hands and opened my pants with the other. When my zipper was lowered I struggled harder, but I couldn't get free. And then he released my arms and scooted back. I was about to jump to my feet when he grabbed my ankles. My sneakers were pulled off and then he held the bottom of my jeans. My upper body fell backwards as Fred lifted my feet, pulling on my pants. I quickly grabbed the waistband of my jeans and held on tight, but Fred was too strong and I lost the battle. My pants were being pulled off.
I waited until the moment my jeans came off and scrambled to my feet. All I was wearing were panties, but that didn't matter. I had to escape. I made a dash for the ladder, but Fred's arm hooked around my waist and, in one motion, flung me onto my back. I attempted to get up when he grabbed my panties. Holding on for dear life, I fought to keep them on, but once again Fred overpowered me and pulled them down my legs. I was now completely naked, trembling and curled up in a ball trying to hide my nudity.
My eyes darted around the area for an escape route. I waited, and then saw Fred removing his clothes. When he was stepping out of his pants I made a dash for it. Jumping to my feet, I tried to run past him. His punch in my stomach knocked the wind out of me, and I dropped to my knees gasping for air. I stayed like that, clutching my midsection, while he removed the rest of his clothes. I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't move.
Still gasping for air, Fred pushed me onto my back. I was out of strength as he climbed on top of me and pushed my legs apart. I wanted to yell for him to stop, but only a squeak came out as my breathing was still impaired. And then I felt his cock at my opening, nudging my labia apart and pushing inside. My head shook from side to side as he sunk in all the way. Again I had an unwanted relative's cock inside me, this time my cousin's.
I regained control of my breathing and tried to fight him off. My blows didn't bother him at all. But I kept hitting him anyway until he got annoyed. Fred grabbed me under my thighs and pushed my legs up and back. My weight was on my upper back and I was doubled over. My arms were useless now and it also allowed my cousin to enter me deeper.
I couldn't believe it -- I was being raped again. I looked at my cousin's face and felt disgust. He was sweating as he pounded into me and his teeth were bared in a half smile half sneer. At least it didn't hurt like when my father had fucked me, but I felt just as humiliated. And then he grunted as he spurted his hot, gooey sperm into me.
When Fred pulled out and stood up, I began to cry. I covered my body as best I could, but no thought of running entered my mind. I was broken and kept crying.
"C'mon, we got work to do," Fred said as he was fastening his clothes.
I looked up at my cousin in shock. He was carrying on as if nothing had happened. He just raped me, and all he could think about was his chores. What kind of monster was he? While Fred picked up a pitchfork and began tossing hay down to the first level, I got dressed. When his back was to me, I made a dash for the ladder. I swung my feet onto it and scurried down, almost falling twice. When on the bottom, I ran to the house.
"Aunt Julie, Aunt Julie!" I called out.
"In here. What's the commotion?"
"Fred raped me!" I screamed, tears still falling down my cheeks.
"No such thing. He may have had a little fun with ya, but it's not rape."
I was flabbergasted. I was telling her that her son raped me, and she shrugged it off to "having a little fun." I kept screaming, telling her he forced himself upon me, when she slapped my face. I shut up immediately.
"That's better. You were giving me a headache. Stop your hollering." I was about to protest when she said, "The boys work hard and need a little humping now and then. It's lonely way out here and boys will be boys. So stop your hollering and get back to work."
I didn't know what to do. I ran out of the house like a madwoman and didn't stop running until I was out of breath. I collapsed under a tall tree and began crying again. This family was mad. My aunt actually condoned my cousin's rape of me. I thought I would go insane.
When it began to get dark I heard the sounds of animals in the distance. I got scared and had no choice but to go back to the house. When I got there, my new family was eating dinner.
"Girl, if you want some you better get your ass in a chair," my aunt said.
I looked at Fred and he smiled back at me with a "I told you" smirk. I almost ran to my room, but all the day's work made me famished. I dutifully sat in my chair and ate quietly. After I cleaned up the kitchen, I went to my room.
I was lying in bed when I heard the sounds of people having sex. The man was grunting and the woman squealing over the squeaks of the bed. I couldn't believe my uncle and aunt would be so indifferent to letting their children hear them having sex.
I tried to go to sleep but the noises disturbed me, especially the headboard banging on the wall. Then I heard my door open and pulled the cover to my chin expecting it to be Fred, but to my amazement it was Uncle Max. I stared at my uncle who was wearing only a pair of dingy boxer shorts. It was the first time I had seen him without a shirt and was surprised by the abundance of hair covering his torso. He was a large man and looked like a gorilla to someone as small as me. From the time I met Uncle Max I thought he was a crude man, and here he was standing in his underwear scratching his crotch. But then my mind shifted. How could he be standing in my room while the noises continued?
"Jerry needed some so I thought I'd try you," he said.
"I don't understand."
"Jerry's busy with Ma, so I came here."
"Jerry's busy with...? My god, you don't mean Jerry's having sex with his mother!?"
"Yep, we share. So I gave up my bed."
I scooted further down the bed as my uncle walked towards me. The cover was now just below my eyes. I shivered in fear as he got closer and then ducked under the cover. I heard him laugh from the darkness of my false security, and then the cover was yanked off me.
"No sense hiding, girl. We all have to do our part and, as you can hear, Ma's doing hers so I expect you to do yours."
"Please, I'm sore from Fred," I said, trying to get out of it any way I could.
"He fucked ya good and hard, didn't he? That's my boy," he said with pride. "But I didn't come here for pussy. I'm tired and when I'm tired I don't like to fuck." I took a premature sigh of relief. "But my balls are full and need emptying."
The confused expression on my face caused Uncle Max to laugh.
"What's the matter, girl, don't they teach ya to suck cock in the big city?"
"Please, I couldn't."
"Sure ya can. Just look at what I got for ya."
My eyes were locked on my uncle's hands as he pushed his boxer shorts down. The hair on his body was continuous as it covered his belly, groin, and legs. The hair was dark and thick but, even in its abundance, it couldn't hide the long, thick meat dangling between my uncle's legs.
Just then, the headboard banging stopped and I turned my head to the wall where the noise had been coming from. I heard a grunt and then Aunt Julie saying, "That's it, boy, empty your balls in me." I thought I was going to be sick, but turned when I felt the disturbance on my mattress. Uncle Max had sat on the side of the bed.
He told me to "get to it" but I just froze. Uncle Max reached out and grabbed my hair. My hands clutched his arm, but I was no match for his strength as he pulled me by my hair, dragging me along the bed until I was on the floor. Even then he didn't let go and my scalp was stinging. Uncle Max pulled me along the floor until I was between his spread knees.
I looked at the long meat dangling in front of me and cowered in fear and disgust. I felt the slap of my uncle's large, powerful hand on the back of my head which caused me to almost fall forward from the force. I looked up, rubbing the soreness.
"I don't want to punish ya," Uncle Max said. "Just do what you're supposed to."
I still couldn't put that disgusting thing in my mouth. Of course I had heard about blow-jobs, but knowing about it and doing it were different. And in this case there was no love or arousal. It was my uncle's fat cock in front of my face.
Uncle Max got impatient and yanked me up by my hair. I was frantically trying to pull his hands free to stop the pain in my scalp when Uncle Max flung me over his legs and began spanking me. My parents had never hit me and I began crying from the pain.
"What's going on in there?" Aunt Julie shouted through the wall.
"Just teaching Sandy a lesson," Uncle Max shouted back.
"Stop... ouch! Stop, please... ouch!"
My hand was behind me, trying to swat my uncle's away, but he landed blow after blow on my delicate butt. I heard my aunt yelling for me to do what I'm supposed to, and then finally the slaps stopped. I was pushed off my uncle's lap and landed hard on the floor.
"You ready to do your duty?" Uncle Max said.
I looked up at him, wiping the tears streaming down my cheeks. My buttocks were burning and I had to give in. I lowered my eyes and nodded. But I didn't move. Not until I felt the powerful slap on the top of my head. This time it was so hard that I saw stars for a moment and I did fall forward. Now, using the palm of one hand to wipe the wetness from my face and the other hand to rub the top of my pounding head, I looked up. I saw my uncle staring down at me. His legs were spread and he was leaning back, resting his weight on his elbows.
I crawled between his legs and looked up. The abundant hair was dark and thick. The cock hanging from it was long. Moving closer, I smelled the stale sweat between his legs. I knew I was going to be sick, but I didn't want to be hit anymore. I inched closer on my knees until his cock was almost touching my nose.
Uncle Max surprised me by jerking his hips, causing his limp dick to slap my face. I jumped back and heard my uncle's boisterous laugh. I felt humiliated, but I got back onto my knees and moved into position. I didn't know if I could do it, but I didn't have a choice.
I lifted his dick in my fingertips. Although I had been fucked twice, it was the first time I actually touched a penis. I pulled his dick towards me as I leaned forward with my mouth wide open. My thumb touched my bottom lip and I placed his cock into my mouth. When I closed my mouth, it was his cock I felt between my lips.
I looked up at my uncle's gloating face with just the head of his cock in my mouth. He waited for me to proceed and, when I didn't, he raised his hand. As quickly as I could, I moved my face towards him, taking all of his meat into my mouth. Uncle Max's triumphant smirk humiliated me further.
"Now suck it, girl... and make sure you don't use your teeth. If you do, I'll knock 'em out. Yeah, like that. Use your tongue too. Oh yeah, I'm gonna like you living here."
I was afraid of my uncle so did as he ordered. The smell was still bothering me, but not as much as the feeling of his cock inside my mouth. And soon it began to swell, elongating, filling my mouth. I was on my knees sucking my uncle's cock. Is this what was to become of me? To be used as a servant by my aunt and a sex slave for my cousins and uncle?
I knew I had hit rock bottom, or so I thought.
I was brought back to the task at hand when my uncle began jerking his hips, causing me to gag. I grabbed the base of his cock in self-defense, but continued to suck his dick. And then he grunted. It was the same sound I heard through the wall when Jerry was having sex with his mother. I should have known what that meant, but I was still learning. It wasn't until the first load of sperm blasted into my mouth that I reacted. I pulled back, releasing the climaxing cock, and gulped down the gooey liquid.
Uncle Max grabbed his cock and pumped it. I now know that he had been in the middle of an orgasm and he needed to finish. As surprised as I was when he filled my mouth with semen, I was flabbergasted when the next load splashed onto my face. I jumped back and watched as the rest of his sperm shot into the air, landing on my legs and the wooden floor.
When Uncle Max's orgasm ended he glared down at me. "Next time you'll do it right," he said angrily. "I don't expect to finish with my hand no more."
Uncle Max got up, retrieved his boxers, and then, without a word, left. I sat alone on the floor, with his sperm on my face and legs, and the taste lingering in my mouth. All of a sudden I felt the urge to retch and ran to the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet, I vomited until my belly was empty, and even then I continued to dry heave until, out of exhaustion, I crumbled to the cold bathroom floor.
THE END (not yet) go to Chapter 2
