Chapter 7

Things really did go back to normal. Nothing was ever said about Chuck again, except when she had to go to court to testify against him. She was nervous about that, but Uncle Bob said he had the foolproof way to prepare her for her testimony, and to help her calm down after she had testified. Of course all he was talking about was fucking her socks off each time.

I think Uncle Bob had a little con man in him too.

But whether she recognized that or not, she happily let Uncle Bob work his plan on her. The only thing she said about it was one time when I overheard her talking to him and she said, “That bastard glaring at me in court never bothered me, because I knew I was going to come home and get to lie under you and get a couple of orgasms. It actually made me want to smile at him.”

Mom became a nudist again too. And Shannon tried having Brinn squirt on her belly. He missed and got it on her pussy, which was fine, because that’s where she wanted to rub too, just like me. Brinn and I watched her fingerfuck herself with spermy fingers, at which point I finally thought of consequences and said, “Maybe it’s not a good idea to get his spermy things inside you.” She stopped and her eyes got wide and she said, “Shit!”

So I crawled over Brinn and got between her legs and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”

Have you ever tried to lick the sperm off a body? It’s not as easy as it sounds. Sucking at her pussy lips got me enough to swallow, but other than that all it seemed like I was doing was just licking her body. It wasn’t even very sexy, because I was trying not to miss any part. And that’s a lot of area to cover with just a tongue. Finally I got up and went and got a washcloth.

We only had him squirt on us every so often after that. I had to be in just the right mood to want that. Besides, summer came, and with it the impending arrival of our seventeenth birthday.

It was also the impending arrival of something else - having Uncle Bob spread sun block all over my body. I especially loved that, and it was one of my favorite parts of summer. And this year was no different. Except the first time it was warm enough to lay out, I had to go find him and tell him it was time for him to put sun block on me. He arched one eyebrow, but came with me.

He did it just like he had always done it. He started on my back first, and moved those big hands all over. He tickled my rose bud with a fingertip, and I wiggled and sighed. Then he had me turn over.

“How much do you want?” he asked.

“I want it all,” I sighed, with my eyes closed.

The next thing I felt were his lips, clamped around my left nipple.

It was completely different than when either Brinn or Shannon did it. I think that’s what shocked me the most. I can’t describe it, but I think that’s because quite suddenly all I could think about was having an orgasm, as quickly as possible. And he slid a hand to my groin, where my legs had already sprung wide open, and slid a finger up into me, crooking it in that special way he had. I had no idea he was searching for a g-spot. All I knew was that with his finger in me like that my clitty sang an aria instead of a pop song. The combination got me off within thirty seconds. It was astonishing.

I heard screaming again, but this time I realized it was me, and I just didn’t care. What he was doing felt so good I was willing to get yelled at, if that happened.

But nobody came running to see who was being murdered, and he eventually stopped doing that, and finished covering my body with sun block. When he was done with that, he slid one fingertip back onto my clit and asked, “You want one more?”

I let my head roll back and forth. I felt perfect, lying there all splayed out, with the warm sun on me. I didn’t want to move.

“Later,” I panted, lightly.

“You sure have grown up,” he said, looking down at me. He had an erection.

I don’t know why, unless it was just idle curiosity - to compare it to Brinn’s - but I reached up and grasped his boner, squeezing it just like I would Brinn’s. He sucked in air and his eyes got all big. I squeezed it several times, but I was in the wrong position, relative to him, to jack on it. So finally I let it go, and dropped my hand back to lie beside me.

“Thanks,” I said, thinking about that orgasm.

“Any time,” he replied.

I have no idea what he was referring to.

I am quite certain that when Uncle Bob sucked my nipples that first time, out by the pool, that my feet were put on the path that would lead to my defloration. You might think that’s an odd thing to say. I mean there was all that other stuff that awakened me sexually.

But, other than that one time with Brinn, when I wanted to feel his penis in me, I did not think in terms of “I wonder when some guy will fuck me, and I wonder what it will be like.” I just didn’t think about it. It was still something that happened to other women, like my mom, for instance. And yes, it would happen to me some day. I just didn’t worry about when that would be.

And I think that’s why I didn’t think about the potential consequences of various acts that seemed quite normal to me.

Like sitting on Uncle Bob’s lap.

I had done it hundreds of times ... right?

And that night a week or so later was just one more of those times.

Of course, there’s a big difference between an 65 pound eleven-year-old girl climbing on a man’s lap, and a 114 pound sixteen-year-old doing the same thing. Especially when that sixteen-year-old’s body is ready for sex, even if her mind isn’t quite that far along yet. The subconscious mind can recognize potential, even when the conscious mind is thinking about something else. And I’m pretty sure my subconscious mind was at work, because when I walked into the room and looked at Uncle Bob, I remembered him sucking my nipples and wondered if I could get away with him doing that while we watched TV. I didn’t plan on more than that ... just a little nipple love and maybe a clitty rub to go along with it.

And the way to work up to that was to sit on his lap for a while ... right?

So I went over and stood in front of him and said, “I want to sit on your lap.”

He stared at my chest, which was pretty normal for him at this point in time. I was actually proud of my breasts these days. A lot of girls aren’t, but Brinn had told me how beautiful they were enough times that I believed it. Then his eyes dropped to my shaved pussy before looking back up at me.

“Climb on,” he said. He reached for the lever that let the footrest of the recliner down. He kept his hand on it, probably in anticipation of lying back, once I was in place. That would distribute my 114 pounds a lot more comfortably, after all, and lying on him was even better than sitting on him.

Or it had been in the past.

By the time I moved to actually sit on him ... he had an erection. I liked that, just like I had always liked it when he complimented me that way. And it’s possible that the reason I sat down on him the way I did, was because when he had an erection, his balls were exposed, and I didn’t want to sit on them and hurt him.

So I sat down “high,” meaning I sat on his stomach and slid down. The idea was to catch that unruly penis and make it lie down under me. That would cover his balls, and when his erection finally went away, (assuming he didn’t play with me, which would sustain that erection forever, ) it would just lie there, still covering his balls and I could rub all over it, which was great fun to do.

Except something went wrong. My subconscious mind had been at work looking at potential. It had to be, because my pussy was as wet as it had ever been. And because of that, when I miscalculated, and the tip of his penis dug between my wet pussy lips, instead of pushing it flat ... I just slid right onto it. I mean I stuck it up inside me. I mean I got my pussy stuffed with my very first male sex organ.

I mean I fucked myself.

He groaned. I groaned. His hand, still on the handle, pulled reflexively and we both went back until I was lying on top of him with his boner stuck up inside me and the only thing I could do was either lie there, or try to sit up. I did try to sit up and my internal muscles clamped down on his penis like they were trying to strangle it. I had already felt stuffed. There was no pain, really, but I had felt like something large had been pushed inside my body. Duh. But when I tried to sit up, I felt over full, so I lay back down.

“Kylie!” croaked Uncle Bob.

“Shhhh,” I said, instinctively. My subconscious was pretty sure if we talked about this, it would end very soon, so it told my conscious mind to discourage talking. My conscious mind listened with one ear, but it was also distracted by all the new feelings that were flooding my body. I had wondered, idly, what it would feel like to have Brinn’s penis in me. It wasn’t Brinn’s, but I no longer had to wonder.

It was good! No, it wasn’t merely good. It was fantastic!

Of course I had no idea what to do now. But, since it felt fantastic, I decided doing nothing was probably a good start.

“Honey,” said Uncle Bob again.

“Shush!” I said firmly.

It occurred to me that it would feel really good right now if somebody played with my nipples, so I reached for his hands and brought them to my breasts.

“What are you doing?” asked a voice right next to me. I looked up and saw Shannon, staring down at us.

I realized my legs were closed, and that that must make me look stiff and uncomfortable. But if I spread my legs, she’d be able to see what was going on. I decided to try to bluff my way out of things.

“Nothing,” I panted.

“Why are you all red? Did you get sunburned today?”

“I’m not all red,” I breathed.

“You look like you’re on fire!” she argued.

“Go away,” I said.

“Kylie!” yelled Uncle Bob.

His hands were just lying on my breasts. That wasn’t the idea. I tried to make his fingers play with my nipples.

“Kylie! Get off!” growled Uncle Bob.

“I don’t want to,” I whined.

He had been moving. It was kind of spastic moving, with no discernible purpose, but now he went still. His hands gripped my breasts, but still didn’t move around. I think I saw that as a good sign.

“I like this,” I whispered.

“What are you doing?“ demanded Shannon. Her triplet’s intuition sensed that something was going on, and just like always, she thought she had to be fully involved. “Mom!” she shouted. “They’re doing something!” It was like she was nine again.

“Go away!“ I shouted.

Uncle Bob’s hands left my breasts, and the right one gripped the front of the arm rest. The left one went to the lever and, with a convulsive lurch, he sat us up. If anything, that caused him to dig even deeper into me. This sound came out of my throat that I’d never heard before and I squeezed muscles I’d never even known I had before.

“You have to get off, Kylie,” said Uncle Bob’s voice in my ear. It made me shiver.

“I don’t want to,” I said, turning my head.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said, his hands coming to my waist. “But you need to.”

Mom came in. She was wiping her hands on a dish towel and had white spots of flour spotting her naked front.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, looking from Shannon to us.

“They’re acting weird,” said Shannon, in full tattle mode now.

“What?” Mom stared at the nine-year-old in the room curiously. Apparently Shannon was acting stranger than Uncle Bob and I were.

“We had a little accident,” said Uncle Bob. He was always one for honesty, bless his pea-picking heart.

“What?” asked Mom, now turning her gaze on us.

“She sat down on my lap and we had a little accident,” he said.

“What?!” asked Mom. She actually thought I peed on him. I swear. That’s what she thought.

He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed. I had to spread my legs so my feet would hit the floor on either side of his knees, and there, right in front of my mother’s eyes, were my flushed, wet pussy lips, being split apart by his big old Uncle Bob boner.

“You had an accident?“ scoffed my mother.

“Really!” he insisted, as he kept pushing and I had to stand up. There was a wet sucking sound as my pussy pulled off of his penis.

“What the hell?“ gasped Shannon, who finally understood what was happening. She was to the side of us, and couldn’t see things nearly as well as Mom, but she could see that erection straining forward in an unusual position as I stood up, and she could see it flop back into its “normal” pointing up position when I actually stood. And it was wet and shiny. It probably didn’t help that I unconsciously rubbed at my pussy lips once I got all the way off of him.

“It’s true, Mommy,” I said, reverting to somewhere in the neighborhood of nine myself. I knew I was in trouble and I was trying to wheedle my way out of it. “I just sat down on his lap and something happened.”

“Something,” she repeated, her eyes flipping back and forth between us.