Fantasy, Sex & Shame

A fantasy is one thing and that "one thing" is not reality. A fantasy is total imagination and mental stimulation with emotional substance but nothing tangible. This is why fantasy will always exist: as humans, we seek to achieve, we see to arrive but we also know that fantasy is inherently unreal and cannot be made to mesh with reality... It's one of the reasons the brain is the most powerful erotic organ. Even though a brain will never do the physical penetration or be the physical vessel that is penetrated, it is what drives the physical actions; without the brain, the physical doesn't happen. All of this being said: I have a fantasy.

I come from a small family and each of my direct relations is gorgeous. My mother used to model, my father is the epitome of rugged masculinity, my brother modeled and is absolutely beautiful. I hate how I look but I've been told I'm extremely attractive – I doubt it but I'm a girl with low self esteem so maybe they're right... doubt that too. Let's just say that I come from good stock. I do not want and have not ever wanted to have sex with any of my relatives. I do, though, have a fantasy (with multiple variations but one steady theme). In this fantasy, I am touched romantically, forcefully, or surprisingly, by my brother, father or uncle. In these imaginings my brother is not my brother, my father is not my father and my uncle is not my uncle... but they are male relatives in these fantasies with one of those three specific relationships to me. When I fantasize along these lines, I cum harder, more frequently and for longer periods than with any other fantasy. Just a little bit ago, I came four times in the span of 30 minutes... and here is why...

I sit at a dinner table in a formal dining room – it's obviously a family gathering & I know it is my house, even though it doesn't look like my actual home. I see relatives all around the table eating, drinking, talking, laughing... some can be seen in other rooms standing & drinking, chatting or watching TV. Under the table, I feel a hand lightly placed on my thigh and I freeze, not looking at whose hand it is. I already know. I have a t-shirt and skirt on. I know my nipples are hard and showing through my shirt because they're almost always hard and with 36Ds it's really tough to not be aware of them, not to mention women's clothes are often made to sexualize the person wearing them so you can't do much but show what you have unless you want to wear a muumuu or a pup tent... and while my self esteem is low (even in fantasies), I don't choose to hide – just to hate myself. The hand is resting on my mid-thigh, the index finger pressing rhythmically as if to apply a tiny massage. My breathing is slightly shallower than normal. My cheeks are a bit flushed and I hope anyone looking my way thinks I'm just a bit warm because of all the people in the house.

I'm still holding my fork but it's resting on my plate with food on it that probably won't make it to my mouth.

The fingers move gently on my inner thigh & I can feel myself tense in a place that has very little to do with a family gathering. A tingling sensation travels up the right side of my neck to my ear and my nostrils flare for an instant. My brain isn't exactly functioning properly: instead of figuring out how to get up and walk away without anyone thinking it odd or instead of figuring out which utensil would serve best as a weapon, I'm thinking about how to make sure nobody sees what's happening and I am attempting to not enjoy the touch on my inner thigh as it cautiously moves up my leg. My legs are so tense I can feel a tremor as I do my best not to gasp or whimper.

I lick my lips, swallow hard and bite the inside of my lower lip as the hand comes to a halt, making my eyelids flutter – not that I am seeing anything around me anyway. His pinky is resting on the fabric of my panties, ring finger nestled gently in the place where the side of my panties touches my upper-most, inner-thigh. The palm of his hand presses my thigh as each finger flexes wherever it is, pressing fingertips into flesh. I take a ragged breath, trying to calm myself, very much afraid yet unwilling and unable to move. I'm ashamed as much because this is a family member as that I am not moving, cannot move and that I am actually enjoying being touched.

There's warmth between my legs and heightened sensory intake wherever air touches my skin. The hair on my arms prickles, I can feel every movement of air in the room on the back of my neck, my cheeks burn, my lips seem to be drying too quickly and I lick them again.

The pinky is pressed firmly against my panties while ring finger moves a fraction of an inch and applies pressure to the side of my clit. I shudder and realize my eyes were closed while my mouth was open. I reverse this, opening my eyes and closing my mouth, clench my jaw, swallow and glance around. Nobody is paying attention and I'm not sorry.

I move my leg slightly so there is more space for his hand. He doesn't move, he doesn't take advantage. Did I do something wrong? Finally, for the first time, I turn and look at my uncle sitting next to me. He's looking across the table at my brother and I realize he's carrying on a conversation and eating. Oh my god... I can't breathe or think and he's able to act as though this isn't happening. He squeezes my thigh and glances at me. His smile is an uncle's smile. He isn't looking at me like a lover, a boyfriend, like someone who should be touching me like this. I look away. I hear him talking to my brother again and I know I'm blushing. I feel him reposition his hand slowly, probably so it's not apparent above the table if someone looks. I've hooked my feet around the legs of my chair without realizing it.

Sharp intake of breath as his ring and middle finger massage my vagina through the panties. I'm drenched and find myself thinking about how I'll get up and to the bathroom as soon as possible when he stops... but not thinking about making this stop. I don't know if I'll make a spot on my skirt and I hope I don't but I'm not so sure. I concentrate on my breathing; my mouth is simultaneously dry and producing much more saliva than normal. I can actually feel the pulse in my neck. I try to smile at my cousin in the other room, reaching out of this solitary cube of space encompassing him and me... but she doesn't see me anyway. The fingers haven't left. I feel his middle finger hook and my hips rock themselves forward of their own volition, my body wants his fingers inside it, my mind is screaming and swooning in the same thought. His fingertip is pushing the fabric of my panties inside me.

In one quick move, I close my legs and push back the chair. I don't feel his hand as I smooth my skirt down, then reach for my plate and walk into the kitchen. I can't quite catch my breath and don't want anyone in the kitchen with me in case I faint. It's empty.

Scrape the plate... scrape the plate... turn on the faucet... rinse the plate... find a place for it in the dishwasher... oh my god I'm wet... close the dishwasher and stand up... look outside, breathe deeply, for Christ's sake, breathe deeply... nothing happened – you just imagined it... but don't go back in there, just in case... look at the sky out the window... close your eyes... catch yourself, calm down.

I walk to the den and stretch out on the empty couch, a pillow under my head and another held against my abdomen. Not sure what's on but it doesn't matter, I'm looking at it but not watching. I realize nobody is in here with me – that's good and bad. Someone walks by but I don't look up. One of my cousins tells a joke and people laugh – things are normal, just watch TV.

Oh fuck, that's him. He's standing in front of me, holding a glass of wine and talking to someone on the other side of the couch. I freeze again. I hear people talking but I can't focus on anything. He says something to me but I have no clue what it is – probably asks what I'm watching.

All of a sudden, he's sitting on my couch with my legs draped over him. How did that happen so fast? It's quiet in here, like everyone is suddenly in another house, not this one, and definitely not just a few feet away in other rooms.

His hand is slowly massaging my tush through my skirt. I can feel his erection against my leg and I want to move away but I like this. I'm horribly uncomfortable but terribly turned on at the same time. I want him to make love to me in my room but I also don't want him touching me at all. Dirty and glorious in one instant. I'm fucking confused and I hate myself for it. I hate myself so much that I stay, I don't protest, I don't say anything, I give away what part of me might ever have been in control and I lie on my side, on this couch with my thighs across my uncle's lap as he massages my ass. I'm wet and the muscles of my vaginal walls are pulsing.

My eyes are closed now – I won't open them until this stops.

He shifts and presses my legs against his pelvis with his free hand. He leans forward and takes his wine glass from the table. He's drinking but doesn't stop pressing and stroking against the fabric of my skirt. Shit, he's so hard. He puts his wine back down and reaches to the back of the couch for the chenille blanket folded and resting there. Now, I get nervous; beneath a blanket he doesn't have to be so gentle, so careful. But I don't open my eyes as I feel the soft knit of the blanket draped over me. He pulls it over my feet and up to my shoulder. I feel fingertips caress my jaw and move the hair back away from my face. "You're lovely, Jenna," he whispers. I don't think he knows I hear him. My toes curl and I listen to the blood rushing in my ears. He presses my legs to his pelvis again, grinding himself against my thighs. I breathe and pretend I'm asleep.

His hands are under the blanket and play up and down my right thigh. His left hand slowly moves over my hip and up a little, pushing at my t-shirt so he makes skin-to-skin contact with my abdomen. I try not to tense as his fingertips gently and carefully caress. His other hand pulls my right leg closer to him, then moves between my knees and presses until my left knee bends and that leg moves away from him a little.

He's created enough space to play.

Left hand spreads flat on my stomach, heat radiates out while right hand applies firm pressure to right, inner thigh and moves up, under skirt to sex. I shift slightly as if moving in my sleep but I've moved my hips so his left hand is on my waist while my right leg drops further from him & my left leg moves closer to him. Then I realize this will probably make it easier. He's paused, unsure if this was on purpose but I don't think he really cares at this point.

Keeping his left hand on my waist, thumb gently stroking the outer edge of my lower back, he moves his right hand under my skirt, over one ass cheek and presses his thumb to the place where cheek meets thigh, pulling me apart slightly. Then his left hand is gone and his right is traveling down my leg.

Wait! You're not done! Oh god, thank you – he's stopping... Not that easy... Left hand is sliding over my skirt, to the hem... he's hooked his fingers under the bottom of the back of my skirt and he's pulling up. Once the skirt is at my waist he hooks a finger at the top of the back of my panties... pull. They rest just below my cheeks and his hand roams across my flesh.

"Fuck," I hear him mutter quietly.

He massages my flesh and grinds against my hip. He's pressed a finger against me between my legs and is wiggling it. I hear him moan very low, he feels my wetness. Two fingers pressed against me, moving. I make a small noise and he freezes. I haven't opened my eyes and he might think I'm asleep or ok with this. I don't know if I am ok with this but I must be since I'm not fighting or leaving and my body is definitely responding in the affirmative. I try to breathe like I'm asleep and not to move my hips or indicate that I want more, even though my body does.

He's removed his hand and I find myself thinking that I want it back. "Mmm," did he taste me? Oh my god... do I smell ok? Do I taste good? What do I taste like?

Shit: this is my uncle! What the fuck is going on? Oh Shit... Holy Shit... That feels fucking good!

His fingers return and they're pressing firmly as he moves them back and forth. He pushes two inside me to the first knuckle and I shiver, bringing my knees closer to me a little. He now has even better access and doesn't hesitate to begin moving his fingers in and out gently. My uncle's rocking his hips against my thigh as he quietly finger fucks me on my couch.

I'm going to hell... or I'm already there.

He pulls his left hand away and I almost move to keep him inside me but remain still. Dragging his fingertips across my skin, leaving a trail of me. The tug of cloth means he's pulling my panties down further. I don't help but I don't hinder. Confusion and acquiescence is all I have to anchor me as I'm flooded with tactile sensations. The panties are at my ankles, waiting for me to let them go. My feet press together slightly but he pulls the bit of cloth & elastic away anyway... It's not as if it could have protected me from much anyway. His right hand has taken its place between my legs and he rapidly pushes his ring and middle finger inside me to the first knuckle, pressing his palm against my thigh and ass cheek. Left hand now kneading my tush again, massaging so his thumb is always pulling my cheeks apart at least a little... giving him even better access.

Why hasn't anyone come in to watch TV? Everything sounds muffled and far off.

I keep my eyes closed still, hoping he thinks I'm asleep and dreaming, giving us both an easy out. No accountability.

He presses his fingers deeper inside me, slowly moving them around. Before he had been gentle and cautious... I had thought he was finger fucking me then but he wasn't: he was just fingering me, playing. Now he starts to push in and out of me quickly, roughly. His fingers are stiff and rigid in me. I feel his left thumb press against my asshole and I shiver but keep pretending to sleep and try not to tense muscles around his digits. He goes back to massaging my tush but now it doesn't feel as good, now it is harsh and too hard. His hands are too strong & I know I'll have bruises. He's humping my thigh rapidly now, no more grinding. If he and I had no clothes on I know he'd be fucking me and it would be hard and punishing.

I realize he's not doing this because he wants me to feel good. He wants to cum, he's turned on, I'm young flesh and am near and accessible... so he's taking what parts of me he can. Why am I letting this happen? I'm ashamed. I like it. I want to be punished. I'm bad. I'm dirty. I don't' know why. I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with me or what to do and it doesn't matter because I'm not doing anything and won't ever do anything to stop him.

I think I might be bleeding a little. He's rough and it hurts. I'm not as wet as I was but I still like it.

He takes his left hand from my ass and clumsily unbuttons his jeans. Shit. I try to keep pretending I'm asleep but I can't help tensing; is he going to rape me? His prick is hot against my left thigh. He shifts his hips and torso a bit so he is leaning forward and his cockhead is pressing between my thighs. Thank god he's too low to actually come in contact with my vagina. His left hand is on my hip, pulling me back against him and his penis is pressing between my thighs.

He takes his fingers out of my cunt and I hear him suck on them. I must taste good if he tastes me twice. Somehow I'm proud of this – fucked up though it is... at this point degrees of fucked-up-edness are not to be pondered or I'll go insane and never open my eyes again, stuck in my head & on this couch forever... and that's not acceptable.

He's holding me by the hip and just above my right knee now, rocking me back and forth so he fucks my thighs. If he's a complete moron, he might still think I'm asleep... but I pretend anyway – valiant effort. His hips piston up in short thrusts as he pulls me to him, spearing the space between my thighs more deeply. He takes his left hand from my hip for a second, reaches in front and roughly shoves his fingers over my mound, past my clit (giving me a short-lived shiver) and between my lips, rubbing them around. He then takes this hand, brings it back over my hip and touches himself with it... coating his rod in my juices. He does it two more times... whetting his whistle pretty well, I guess. Now he goes back to rocking me back and forth so he's fucking my thighs.

I realize I've let my whole body rock until this point but now I allow my torso to stay still, my waist relaxes, and I find that my hands are no longer holding that pillow to my stomach – it must've fallen at some point.

How long has it been? Doesn't matter... I realize my arms are crossed just below my chest and I decide that I can play a part in this even if I'm pretending to sleep. My crossed arms have positioned my hands perfectly to shift only slightly in order to be able to play with my nipples. So, as my uncle gets himself off by pretending (pretty well) to fuck me, I'll get myself off so to hell with him. Through my shirt and bra, I begin gently rubbing, pinching, pulling and twirling my nipples between thumb and forefinger of each of my hands, trying to breathe quietly and steadily at the same time while he continues to press his cock between my thighs. He's now pulling me against him with such force that it's actually making a slapping sound as if he were really fucking me. His hips are pushing up so fast and hard that I am bouncing off of him at times. He stops rocking me and instead, just pulls me against him as hard as possible and his hips keep moving as if they've got a mind of their own.

He shifts a little so he's not sitting up anymore but propped up on one elbow and almost spooning me with his legs still positioned as if he were sitting. Like this, I can feel his cockhead so close to my pussy that I'm afraid again but I never stop pinching and rolling my nipples.

Fuck, I'm hot and I want my uncle inside me, I want him hurting me, making me cum. That's not what this is about, though, he doesn't give a shit if I cum. His hips thrust harder and his head touches my lips. I think he hesitates for a second and then does it again. I don't move. I must be extremely wet because his next couple of pushes make my inner thighs just below my pussy slippery.

He shifts again and his legs are no longer under me. He lets his torso drop so his chin is on my shoulder. I quickly and quietly let my wrists go limp as if I was never touching myself.

"Jenna... fuck... I wanna cum in you... shit... wake up... fuck me..." I shiver as his whispered threats and desires crawl across my earlobe, insects looking for a meal. Why does my ear have to be so damned sensitive? I feel a tremor of heat go from that ear to my neck and down my side to my lower back and then on to my sex... staying there and tingling. He continues to rut on me. I pretend I'm asleep and he's either the biggest idiot in history or I pretend very well because I could swear he still thinks I'm asleep.

His hand is on my hip and he pushes himself up. His prick is pressing against my cunt and I want to press back. He doesn't push further but pulls himself back and begins to hump me again without penetrating.

If I just shift my hips a tiny bit or bring my knees up a little, his cock'll go right inside me... I contemplate doing it. Jesus, I'm one fucked up little slut.

He takes his hand from my hip and reaches around me... hand traveling up my stomach, under the t-shirt until fingers hit the underwire of my bra. A split second, long enough to realize you're trying to fuck your niece, and then his hand keeps moving up as his hips continue to piston back and forth, letting his prick fuck the space between my thighs, just barely below the point of penetration. Once his hand is above the fabric of my bra, he pushes his fingers under the top and moves so he's now cupping my breast with fingertips rolling that nipple.