I’m from India; everyone can see that easily enough. But that’s all they can see.

I was married when I was 14, as was the custom in the area back then. I didn’t go live with my husband though, that’s not what it was about. We barely even spoke, and only touched hands briefly. I stayed at home until I was 16, went to school, and lived my young life, knowing that my future was arranged. Quite well arranged, because my future family was financially secure.

It must seem very strange to you all, horrible even, but to us it was quite normal. Quite a few of my friends were married the same way, we giggled and talked about what it would be like when we would sleep with our young husbands for the first time.

When the time came, I was frightened to leave my parent’s home. But all girls would eventually; my new home was about 30 miles distant. That’s quite a long way in India. It wasn’t as though we were strangers; my child husband and I had met at many festivals and family get togethers. I’d known his late mother. I knew his uncle, but not as well as I would later on.

Manesh lived with his sister and uncle in a generous house. Uncle had a shop in the market that did well, or what we thought of as well in those simple times. Aunty had died; it was up to Tulsi and I to keep the house and provide the meals while the men worked in the shop. It’s probably worth mentioning that putting the meals on a middle class Indian table is a full time job; we are quite particular about our food.

Yes, of course; Sex. Well, there wasn’t any. No, none. Not so much as a kiss.

And I didn’t even know that there was something missing; I’d lived a sheltered life. I’d never heard of sex. I had an idea that I wanted Manesh to be more friendly; a kind of indistinct yearning for I knew not what. We shared a bed, and if he knew why, he kept quiet about it.

I’d only been in the house for about 6 months when my new sister was sent off to live with her own new family, leaving me alone. And then, after about a year of living with my new family, Uncle had the accident.

He broke his hip and an arm when a bus hit his motor scooter. He was brought home from the hospital a week later, and we were told he had to stay in bed for 6 more weeks. It was up to me to be his nurse.

Uncle had always been a bit forbidding; not really unfriendly, but reserved. He was the patriarch of the house, we cowered when he barked. Now suddenly he was an invalid, and responsibility for the business fell on my young husband’s thin shoulders.

Uncle was not too demanding as a patient. He knew I had a lot of work already; I should have had a helper, but Uncle had always said he didn’t trust servants.

I brought him his meals, his pills, and his tea, and got used to emptying his bedpan. I think it was harder on him than me, as he was a very proud man.

India is a tropical country; Uncle needed to be bathed. I cleaned him daily with a damp cloth; everywhere that wasn’t in plaster, except his groin. But he began to stink; he was unable to scrub himself at all. I was desperately trying to think of a solution. I knew about the need for hygiene.

So one day when I was washing him, and he seemed to fall asleep, I gently pulled aside the cloth that was covering his genitals. I knew what was in there; I’d seen my brother once, and of course my husband. I knew that the genitals were the most personal part of a man, and they shouldn’t be touched; but neither should the rest of his body, and I’d been cleaning him regardless. It had to be done.

So I took the tip of his funny little pipe between my thumb and forefinger, and cleaned it, my young heart pounding in confusion. As you would expect, it began to grow; I was frightened I had done something wrong, and released it.

“Carry on.” Uncle said without opening his eyes. “I’m sorry you must do this, but you do. Finish up, child.”

“Are you sure, Uncle?” I asked, “Is it all right?”

“Yes of course.”

“It doesn’t hurt?”

“Quite the opposite. Finish up now.”

So I took hold again, and pulling it to one side, cleaned under it, and all the uncared for areas lower down.

“You’re a good child.” He said when I was through. I felt strangely warm inside as I prepared lunch.

“But why does it get so stiff, Uncle?” I asked him the next day as I soaped it.

“That will always happen if you do that to a man, Satya.” He said patiently as he looked at me in a strange way that frightened me a little.

“I don’t believe you.” I told him as I poured cold water over his hot stiff penis while running my fist up and down it to rub off the soap.

He made a strange sound.

“Is it ok Uncle?” I asked, feeling oddly excited by my new task.

“Yes, it’s good.” He sighed, and he looked at me strangely; “Don’t you do that to Manesh?”

“No. He cleans himself.”

“Good god! Listen, niece; you must handle Manesh like this. Don’t tell him I said so, and don’t tell him you cleaned my private parts. It’s important. Just a little, in your bed.”

I didn’t yet understand why I enjoyed this strange activity; the idea of doing this with my husband made me feel strangely flushed.

The following day I was cleaning my uncle as usual. I’d realized he was much happier now that I was keeping him so clean and fresh.

“Did you do as I said?” he asked me as I reached the critical area.

“Yes. But nothing happened. I knew you were telling lies! Manesh just went to sleep, and his worm never got stiff like yours does.”

My uncle knitted his eyebrows together and frowned; that surprised me, he was usually so relaxed when I cleaned his genitals.

“This isn’t good.” He said, “But I’m glad you told me. Don’t stop now, child. Use both hands. You like it, don’t you? Cleaning me there.”

“I ... yes, Uncle.” I admitted.

“I like it too.” He said quietly, as if it was a big secret, which I knew it was.

“That’s good, Uncle.” I said guardedly. I knew now that there was something more; something dark and secret that my uncle knew but I didn’t. Something alluring yet terrifying that was hiding itself just outside my consciousness. My hands roamed over his stiff penis eagerly, my mouth dry and my heart beating hard with the still strange and unfamiliar excitement of his erect penis.

Nothing changed for several days; I did the housework, and served Uncle. I washed him every day, and became more accustomed to cleaning his private areas. I always finished with his penis, soaping it gently with my hands, looking at his weather-beaten old face for reassurance that I was doing what he wanted; and he would look back at me kindly. It always became large and stiff, and it was the high point of my day.

It made me excited yet uncomfortable. While feeling the strength of his member in my hands, I always felt I shouldn’t be touching him there; yet the whole rest of the day I looked forward to doing it again, it was hard to think of much else.

“There’s a better way to do it.” Uncle said one day.

“How?” I asked.

He looked at me silently for a long moment; I just kept stroking his stiff hot penis in my hands and looked back at him in the bliss of total ignorance.

“With your mouth.” He said finally.

I stopped.

“My mouth?”

“Yes. You suck it into your mouth, like a sweet.”

“You’re joking with me uncle!” I said, sure he wasn’t serious.

“No, really. My wife used to do that for me. It would let me rest so much easier if you did, too.”

I stared down at it; I liked it, I liked holding it. It made me feel good to hold it. I imagined doing what he’d suggested; it seemed so strange, so wrong, and yet ... I wanted to. The thought of doing what he’d suggested made me flush with a dark strange desire.

I looked at my uncle’s face again. He smiled at me reassuringly. “Go on, just try it and see.” He said.

So I lowered my virgin face to his old brown penis, I opened my mouth, and with my heart racing, I let the tip inside.

He was right, I realized; there was something right about it. Something natural and good. I looked up at him again, to see him smiling at me with more approval than I could ever recall receiving from anyone ever before.

“Like a sweet.” He reminded me.

I sucked on it; it was sweet, somehow. Sweet and hot, like tea but better. Uncle moaned in a weird good way, and stroked my thick black hair with his hands as he smiled down at me, his eyes shining with a joy that I’d never seen in the old man before.

The penis in my mouth was hot, throbbing, I had a strange urge to slide my mouth over the length as I sucked, my hands went to his scrotum and it seemed to contract suddenly.

“Stop now.” He said suddenly, “You must stop, child!”

But I didn’t want to; something primal in me was suddenly activated. The desire to serve my uncle was fitted firmly into my frustrated sex drive. He felt good from this, and so did I; just a moment longer, I thought, just a moment...

“Oh god, it’s too late!” he groaned as it started to shiver in my hands and mouth; I was about to release it when the first hot squirt erupted between my cheeks. I pulled away in panic as his dick kept shooting; it sprayed all over my hair, face, and sari. Hot and gooey, milky white.

“Don’t be afraid, Niece.” He said quietly, “It’s all right. I wanted to warn you about that ... I’ll tell you later. Clean up now, and not a word about this to anyone.”

The episode left me frightened and conflicted; I knew we were doing something forbidden, something indecent that a woman shouldn’t do. I was horrified by what I’d done, and the by the result; but at the same time, there was an overwhelming desire to do it again. To hold his cock, suck it, watch the milk shoot out. My breasts stiffened as I thought of it while I washed the laundry.

“Satya!” Uncle called out the next morning not long after my husband had left for the shop. “Come.”

“Yes Uncle?”

“What are you doing now?”

“The washing, Uncle.”

“Very good. When you’ve finished, come back and wash me.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

Why was I so afraid? Why was I so excited? He was just my husband’s uncle, he never even beat me once.

He closed his eyes, relaxing in obvious pleasure as I lightly scrubbed his legs, arms, and torso. His penis was hard already, waiting for me.

“Suck it again, Satya. Don’t be afraid.” He said reassuringly. “That’s it. You’re a good girl, Satya. Stroke my testicles with your other hand. Ah, that’s wonderful!”

Once more, I was doing it; I was hot and wet between my legs, and I suddenly knew everything.

Like a revelation, I remembered two dogs I’d once seen in the market; something someone had said once when they didn’t know I could hear; I knew that I wanted the penis pushed into me, into the hot itchy place I rubbed with my finger when I was alone in my shower. I knew that it would fit there perfectly, that it was what I was waiting for.

That was the image that my mind had refused to see, the truth that no one had told me, but that I somehow knew nonetheless. I know it might be difficult for you readers to understand the mind of a girl who had never seen or been told of sex.

“Don’t stop, Satya.” My uncle admonished me. I continued my efforts at pleasuring him, my mind spinning with my sudden sexual awakening.

“Very good; wonderful.” He said. “Now, Satya, I’m going to tell you about men and women, because it seems you don’t know.”

As I sucked his cock and stroked his big hairy balls, he talked. He told me about human sexuality, about how men would strive to get me alone, how they might beg me or force me to pleasure them, as I was doing now for him. How they all wanted to pollute me with the sticky milk.

I listened to his discourse in fascination; it was all true, I knew it was. Men did look at me like he described, my mother had warned me to be careful. The old cock quivered in my mouth, pulsing with energy, filling my head with a strange euphoria. I looked up at Uncle; his hair was grey, his eyes were wise. He was in his mid sixties, and I was 17. As his niece, it was my duty to serve him; and it was a great pleasure as well. My thick black hair fell about his lap as I strove to get more of him into my mouth, I was hungry for his cock, the feeling of it, the taste, the strength, the thrill.

“Stop now, Satya.” He said. This time, I obeyed immediately.

“I need release.” He informed me. “This time, I want you to hold it all in your mouth.”

“But Uncle! I don’t think I can.” I said, suddenly afraid.

“Of course you can, child. It’s nothing. Hold it in your mouth. You can swallow it if you like, it’s very good for you. It helps your hair grow long and thick.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Carry on now. Like a sweet, Satya, suck it gently. Don’t be afraid, now; there’s nothing to fear, I promise. Are you ready?”

I nodded my head from side to side, letting him know I was; I felt his balls pull upwards, and then his old dick erupted in my mouth again.

This time I was more prepared; it was still frightening, but I knew it would be alright. Uncle had said so.

I looked at him as my mouth filled with his strange and frightening hot secretions, and he smiled back at me, the joy on his face more than enough reward, more than enough to keep my lips firmly around his pulsing, erupting organ until he was through.

We Indian women have a thing about our hair; it’s our greatest pride. I swallowed it all, choosing to believe what he’d said even though it was somehow very unpalatable.

“Sit by me now.” He said. “Take my hand girl.”

Somehow, holding his hand was very comforting. I felt very vulnerable at that moment. Uncle began to speak. In a deep quiet voice, he began to tell me what I hadn’t learned in my all-girl school; about sex, come, and pregnancy. About disease and desire.

We were interrupted when the doctor came for Uncle’s check up, and anyway I was getting behind on the housework. But the following day, I performed my task again; this time, I was surprised to find myself positively looking forward to my hot hair tonic.

I sucked him even more eagerly than before, barely able to wait for him to come. I sucked my old uncle and stroked his hard cock as if it was my only mission in life, until he erupted in my mouth, his living organ hot against my lips. I swallowed it proudly and with increasing pleasure.

Afterwards, I sat with Uncle as before, holding his hand silently while he continued with my [verbal] lessons.

“Now my nephew Manesh doesn’t know these things, it seems. It would be best if you don’t let on that you know, either; but if you act carefully, you can teach him without him realizing you’ve learned something elsewhere.”

“Yes Uncle.”

“Now tonight I want you to just massage Manesh’s back. Very gently, to relax him, all right?”

“Yes. I’ll do it, Uncle.” I said happily.

I was so happy, so optimistic; Uncle would teach me, and I would teach Manesh, and we would be happy, and I would get the fulfillment I needed from the right source.

“Deeper, Satya; suck me deeper into your mouth.” Uncle demanded. “Oh yes; you are a gift from heaven, child! Are you ready? AHHHHH!”

I received his hot sweet rush, pulling on his balls as they contracted repeatedly; I held the fluid in my mouth for a few seconds as Uncle’s spasms subsided, savoring the strange taste before swallowing it dutifully.

“Sit, Satya. Take my hand. Did you do as I instructed last night?”