Food of Desire

If he hadn't burst out laughing, I might have made it to the outside garden hose without throwing the custard sponge cake at him. But the sight of him all red in the face and shaking with laughter, once I'd wiped the fucking cordial off my face and eyes and could actually see, was absolutely infuriating. Cake and custard went flying and I was reaching for a wooden spoon to throw at him when he grabbed my hand. It was the first time he'd actually touched me since I'd arrived.

"Wait, wait," he said, having caught his breath and managing to stifle the giggles that seemed to rise up in him like bubbles, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you. It was just such a surprise..." and then he was off again, almost choking with laughter.

But I had had it. I was fed up. "You know what," I said, as the blackberry cordial seeped into my underwear, "you can go fuck yourself, Uncle Simon." And in my incredibly mature way, with my brilliant command of the English language, I yelled "Fuck you!" again and stomped off to hose myself down.

Soaking wet, shoes hosed off and free of blackberries, I made my way upstairs to get out of my wet clothes. I'd long since stopped wearing the arm-sling and only wore the wrist brace that wrapped down over my hand, leaving my fingers free. I'd kicked off my dripping shoes and thrown them in the bathtub. I managed to get my shirt and bra off but, when I tried to unzip my jeans, the zipper wouldn't budge. No matter what I tried, lying down on the bed and pulling at it, soaping it up with a bar of lavender soap and pulling, I couldn't get it to unzip. In my desperation I began hopping up and down around the bathroom as I tried to pull my unzipped jeans down over the considerable swell of my hips. Naturally, I knocked over the wicker bath cabinet with a crash that normally would have brought the whole house. But it was Uncle Simon who arrived at the bathroom door. He was the only one home, besides me.

I stopped hopping and just stood and stared at him. I was panting with frustration from trying to get the zipper down. I was still wet from the hose and now sweating with exertion. I had actually forgotten I was naked from the waist up till Uncle Simon's eyes lowered from my face to my breasts. I was so sure he had been disgusted by me I couldn't figure out why he didn't just walk away as he had the night we'd accidentally met in the hall. But he just stood there, staring. And I felt myself blushing crimson as my nipples began to harden under his gaze. I felt the ache for him I'd been burdened with for days begin to creep into the pink tips of my breasts and seep between my thighs. I was about to yell at him to get out but he took a step toward me. I automatically raised my arm to cover myself.

"No, don't," he said, "don't cover yourself, let me look at you." I was dumbfounded.

"You want to look at me? I thought you couldn't stand the sight of me."

"Christ, Alana, I've been wanting to look at you like this since the day I picked you up at the airport. But Christ, you're my best friend's daughter! You're supposed to be a shy fifteen year old! When the hell did you get these?" And as he spoke he reached out and cupped each heavy breast in his hands.

It was there in the bathroom that Uncle Simon first kissed me. But it wasn't on the mouth, the way I'd imagined. The first time I felt his warm lips was on my breasts. He kissed my aching nipples, first one and then the other. He sucked and kissed my nipples till I thought I'd faint with pleasure. And then he kissed my mouth. Oh god did he kiss my mouth, gently giving me his tongue as he held me. And then he bent to suck my nipples again, as if he found some sort of relief for a terrible thirst.

"Is this OK, Alana?" Uncle Simon asked as he tweaked one nipple between his fingers and then bending down again to gently take the red, wet tip between his teeth, biting just thrilling little bites that sent shivers through me. "Do you want this? Do you want me?"

"Oh god, yes, Uncle Simon..." I moaned.

"For Christ's sake, don't call me Uncle Simon," he said, pulling away. "Jesus, it makes me sound like a pervert! Oh God, I am! What am I doing?" He looked momentarily confused, and I sensed the moment would pass if I did not respond. So without hesitation I thrust my warm, naked breasts back into his face.

"OK, no Uncle Simon" I panted. "Just Simon, OK? Sexy, gorgeous Simon. And I'm just Alana, and there's nobody else here. It's just us, ok? Simon and Alana." His eyes were shut, his face buried between the space between my breasts and his hands gripping me firmly at the waist. "And I want you so bad it hurts. I thought you couldn't stand to look at me!"

"I couldn't, I couldn't stand to look at you" Simon admitted. "Not knowing how much I wanted to just grab you and... God, I haven't wanked this much since puberty."

"You were wanking and thinking of me?" I said in amazement. "But I was doing the same thing! I've been masturbating over you for years!"

And then Simon kissed me again then, and went back to sucking my now swollen, red nipples.

"Let's get you out of these jeans," he said, coming up for air, his fingers pulling at the zipper which still wouldn't come down."

"It won't budge," I said, "I've tried everything."

"Then we'll just cut them off you" Simon announced lustfully. "They are coming off. I will have you naked."

And naked he had me. Grabbing a pair of scissors that had fallen out of the wicker cupboard, he expertly cut me out of my jeans, sliding them down over my hips and helping me step out of them. My panties had come off in the process and I was, just as he'd wanted, naked. He pulled me to him and I could feel the stiffness of his cock under his pants as he pushed himself against my belly. I don't remember how we got to my bed, but suddenly we were there and he was kissing me everywhere: breasts, shoulders, neck, belly, thighs. And then he was spreading my thighs and dipping his hot tongue between the swollen lips of my cunt. I had not felt a tongue there since Greg, and at first I was a little put off by thinking that maybe he'd find me somehow undesirable or sweaty from the day's labor.

But then I thought of my Mother's response when he had gone down on her all those years ago and I let my body relax as Simon began to lick and lap at me, moaning in what I could only assume was pleasure. Then he rose suddenly before we went too far and quickly undressed so that he too was naked. I caught my first glimpse of his cock and balls, all swollen pink against his sallow skin. He lay down again next to me but this time in the opposite direction, with his cock pointing directly at my face as he pulled me to him again, positioning me on my side and opening my thighs once more to lap and lick and slide his tongue deep inside me. I looked at his beautiful, bursting cock and, licking my lips first, took the head into my mouth. I had actually never sucked a cock properly before. With Greg, he had come almost as soon as the tip of his cock was between my lips, his essence jutting in thick spurts across my face. I wondered now if I was doing it right, but I needn't have worried because Simon was quite adept at fucking my mouth. The head of his dick was round and purplish red, like a cross between a very large cherry and a plum, the rim of which reminded me of a mushroom.

The length was just perfect for me, not too long so that it choked me but long enough so that I had to swallow a bit to keep from gagging. And Simon let me have as much as I could take, resting the throbbing head against the back of my throat and then pulling out to let me suck and tongue the head. I tasted sweetly salty liquid leaking from the head, and in my ignorance, I thought that was his semen. I couldn't figure out why, if he had cum, was he still hard. As he licked me toward my own quickening release, I felt his cock swell and begin to pulse. As he licked and sucked my swollen clitoris, he slid a finger deep inside me and began fucking me with it while he sucked me.

This drove me wild and seemed to excite him as well. When I reached my hand up to play with his balls, squeezing them gently, he seemed to grow bigger in my mouth. I felt myself explode against his lips in a syrupy climax, as he continued to tongue me. And then he really began to fuck my mouth with more rapid movements. Not deep, but quick, and then he yelled to me to suck it, suck it hard. I did as he asked and was rewarded in a very unexpected way. The little trickle of salty sweet liquid that I had thought was cum, became something more along the lines of a geyser. Spurt after hot spurt of thick, milky juice pumped into my mouth and I swallowed as much as I could without thinking. I was amazed that under the saltiness, I thought I actually tasted honey, lavender honey to be exact. Slowly I felt the spurting cease and he grew soft in my mouth. We lay there, catching our breath till he crawled back up from my soaking thighs to kiss me, just as I was wiping off the sweet cum that dripped from my lips. I hadn't managed to swallow it all, he had pumped such a deluge between my lips.

"Don't," he said, "let me." And he licked his drops of lavender honey cum from my lips and then he kissed me, letting me taste my own musky, sweet spend as it mingled with his. I was in heaven, or vaguely aware of some heavenly place I had entered before I fell asleep, with his head on my breast.

Sometime later, I awoke. I don't know the exact time but I know the moon had come out and was pouring her light into my bedroom window, making it seem almost as bright as day. Simon began to kiss me again, working his long finger deep into my cunt as he sucked my lower lip and then gave me his tongue. Then he would rub the swollen button of my clitoris and slide his finger back into me. He took my hand and placed it on his hard cock.

"You've never taken an erect cock before, have you baby?" he whispered his question to me. "But you've taken something, haven't you? I can feel your little pussy deep, deep inside you and you're not a virgin. What have you taken here?" Simon asked again, pushing two fingers deep inside me, making me squirm with pleasure.

"Do I have to tell you?" I whispered languidly.

"Oh yes," Simon said, "it's essential. You must answer all my questions. You've had your own finger up inside you, haven't you?"

"Yes."

"Anyone else's?"

"No."

"Some toy perhaps?" he continued.

"No." I replied.

"What, then?"

"You won't laugh?" I moaned as Simon continued to expertly finger me.

"Never. Tell what you slid up your sweet, juicy cunt."

"Well, I had the hairbrush over there on the dresser, the one with the most amazing handle. It was very phallic. I have used that to...oh, and a candle." He touched me somewhere deep inside me and I climaxed onto his thrusting hand.

"Oh my luscious baby! How I'd love to see that, watch you bring yourself to a juicy spend," Simon whispered, and then kissed me again. "But you want to take my cock, don't you? You want to be fucked, don't you? Oh, that's good, stroke me, make me nice and hard."

I loved the feel of his cock, and the purplish red plum-like head. Even in the moonlight, I could see the shiny drops forming at the tip. I wanted to suck him again, but I wanted to feel his root pushing inside me. I slipped my hands down and cupped his tight, full balls. That brought a delicious groan from him.

"Ah baby, I'm so full again. I can't believe I'm so full of cream again but I am. And I'm going to give it to you."

"What's the honey stuff that drips from the little hole?" I asked, dipping my finger gently into the center of his swollen cock and rubbing the slick juice around the head.

"Oh you are such a sweet girl, aren't you? That's pre-cum baby. That's what first comes out when I get excited. And it helps get my cock get all wet, just like you get wet. It helps me slide into you easier. You want me to slide into you? You want me to give this to you now?" he asked, squeezing my hand as it was wrapped around his cock, causing even more beads of pre-cum to form.

"But I think it looks really big, Simon. I know I'm not technically a virgin but I still think you're pretty big."

"Don't worry, don't you worry," he whispered, "I know how to give cock." He continued to whisper as he rolled on top of me and pulled my legs open. "You're so wet," he crooned, kneeling between my open thighs, "you're just dripping, aren't you?" And he slid two fingers in me again and then pulled them out, all shining with my juice. He brought them to his mouth and licked, mumbling about how sweet I tasted, and then he parted my swollen labia and found the nub of my clit again. He began to rub rhythmically, back and forth.

"Do you like that?" Simon asked, knowing full well I loved it. "Is this how you pleasure yourself? Does it feel right? Tell me, show me." And I was way past being shy and virginal. I was only conscious of the growing need in me to reach wherever it was he was taking me. I placed his fingers exactly in the spot that I liked and moved them just how I moved them when I pleasured myself. Then my own fingers stole their way to my nipples, which I began to pinch and squeeze. In the moonlight, though I knew he could see me clearly, somehow I found that I was just as uninhibited as I was by myself.

"Oh that's gorgeous. You have no idea how hot you look. So fuckable. Beautiful little cunt, so wet, you want cock now, don't you? I can tell. You want cock now don't you?"

"Oh god please, please..."

"Please what?" he demanded.

"Please Simon, please. I'm going to cum if you don't stop. Please push it in me. Please."

And he fell on me, kissing me as he searched for the entrance to my cunt with his dripping cock. I spread my legs wider and instinctively reached for his hard erection, placing the head between the swollen cunt lips. He began to work the round, fat head of his cock into me, and bit by bit the length followed. I felt myself opening as he pulled out and then worked back in, till I had taken all of him. He lay still on top of me, the entire length of his swollen cock embedded in me, letting me get used to the feel. I was so close to coming I felt like any movement either of us made would send me over the edge, and I had the feeling I just wanted to stay like that, full of his cock, just on the verge of exploding into orgasm. But in the end, the throbbing of his cock-head, pushing against the very depth of me, was just too much. I raised my knees up and grabbed his butt cheeks and pulled him in as deep as I could.

He thrust maybe six or seven times, I don't know how many times he slammed his full length into me before he began to spurt. But I felt every jab, every thrust, and every hot jet of his cum as I lost myself in my own pleasure. I think, in the throes of my first cock-filled passion, that I did some more begging and possibly even demanded that he fill me up. He obliged, like the true gentleman that he is. He filled me up. And he reassured me afterward that I was not to worry about arriving back in Bristol with a "bun in the oven" because he had been "fixed" before he'd married his second wife and all that delicious cream could fill me up just as quickly as he was able to manufacture it. Before falling asleep, I told him I thought that was a perfect arrangement and he agreed, as he settled in to sleep, spooning against my backside, mumbling something about other virgin territory needing to be explored...