Me and My Uncle Ch. 08

I can pinpoint with crystal clarity the moment when things began to turn sour between me and my uncle.

At the time, I didn't see it as anything other than just a potentially interesting night that went bad. But looking back on it, I've come to realize that the experience I endured that night was the first time where things really went too far, and I found myself starting to dislike something I had previously come to enjoy.

To begin with, it happened on the Independence Day weekend in 1991, and that didn't exactly put me in the most positive frame of mind.

Even today, I have a hard time getting festive about the Fourth of July, because it was during that holiday weekend when I was 11 that everything came crashing down around me with regard to Schultzie and my mom. My life changed forever that bleak weekend in 1981, and I'm always reminded of that when the holiday comes around.

And in '91 it really hit me hard. It had been 10 years since the night my mom caught Schultzie in the act of molesting me sexually, and subsequently shot him to death. That act had sent her to prison for life and me to the hellhole that was the girls' school for juveniles in Oklahoma and thus to my Uncle Bill.

Moreover, by the summer of 1991, I had been Uncle Bill's whore for three years, and I was beginning to get tired of it. I was weary of empty, monotonous sex with anyone who had the money to pay for me, the long nights taking on a parade of men, most of whom were more than a little drunk.

Also, I was approaching my senior year at the university, and I was starting to anticipate life after college, when I could get a real job and not have to fuck for a living. More to the point, I was starting to look forward to getting away from Uncle Bill and getting out on my own.

Complicating matters was the fact that I had met someone the previous semester that I really liked, almost to the point of love, except that it was another girl.

Leave it to me to have my first significant relationship be with another woman, but then what else would you expect from someone with such a dysfunctional life as mine.

Let me be clear on one thing. I am not, was not, nor have I ever been a lesbian. I was forced into committing lesbian sex acts at the juvenile school, where I learned everything there was to learn about sex between women, and I had subsequently come to enjoy certain aspects of lesbian love in the course of my career as a prostitute.

But I was always a heterosexual in my psychological make-up. I always dreamed of finding a husband and bearing his children, and I never wavered from that dream even when I had my face buried in some woman's fragrant pussy.

Nevertheless, Janelle Hatch was the critical person in my life. She showed me that it was possible to have sex with another person without one partner using the other, to give love to another without regard for what either one might be able to squeeze out of the relationship.

I had never had a relationship where the only thing that mattered was making the other partner happy. Although I didn't "love" Janelle in the romantic meaning of the word, it was with her and through her that I learned the true meaning of love.

We met at the university's fitness center, where I had taken to going for lunch. Having sex for a living - at least the way I practiced it - is physically demanding work. So it wasn't long after I started turning tricks that I realized that I'd be doing myself - and my customers - a big favor if I stayed in pretty good shape.

So I always scheduled my classes so that I'd have a nice long break for lunch. I'd go to the fitness center, run through a series of exercises - push-ups, sit-ups, jumping rope, jogging and occasionally swimming - eat a light lunch there at the salad bar, then go on to my afternoon classes.

About two weeks into the spring semester my junior year, I noticed this cute new girl working behind the counter at the fitness center. She was a little shorter than average, and solidly built, with a beautiful pair of DD-size tits that made me drool the very first time I saw her. She had big, gorgeous brown eyes, lips that were full but not excessive and a wild, shoulder-length mane of soft, bushy curls.

We'd chat as she ran my ID card through the scanner, then we started having lunch together and occasionally we'd do a workout together. We hit it off right from the start.

It didn't take me long to figure out that she had the hots for me pretty bad, and I found myself attracted to her like I had never been with another female, especially after we started to get close and found out how much we had in common.

It might not have seemed that way at first blush, since she was a black girl from Kansas City and I was a white girl from the country. But we had both lost our fathers at an early age, we both had mothers who drank heavily and - most critically - we had both been molested in our prepubescent years by an older man who was supposed to be taking care of us.

In her case, it was her uncle, and it went on for four long years before she finally worked up the courage to tell someone, and he ended up going to prison over it. Unlike me, Janelle's experience had made her deathly afraid of any kind of intimacy with a man, so she had fully and completely embraced the lesbian lifestyle.

Finding out we had this in common was the spark that led us to our first sexual encounter, and it was a life-changing experience for me. We feasted on each other's bodies that afternoon, and we happily exhausted ourselves. I had never been with someone who was so giving of herself sexually. My pleasure was paramount to her, and, in turn, that made me want to please her all the more. It really was a beautiful relationship, and we're still best friends today (though not lovers).

For the rest of the semester, I would spend a couple of nights a week with Janelle, nights when I wasn't working for Uncle Bill, because I had labs and stuff to do that kept me on campus late. I think Uncle Bill suspected there was someone I was seeing on campus, and that helped set in motion a lot of what was to come.

And the truth is, Uncle Bill was starting to get on my nerves. He was coming up with more and more of these outlandish party ideas that usually ended with me taking on large numbers of men.

One time, he had me do a strip show at Cosmo's bar in Jeff City, then had everyone there take a turn with me in the back room of the bar. Another time, he took me to a truck stop along I-70 not too far from Kansas City and passed me around to as many truckers as he could find that were willing to pay for me. Talk about awful, it was absolutely one of the worst nights of my life.

Uncle Bill was really starting to enjoy humiliating me and degrading me, and he never missed an opportunity to belittle me. But after that incident, I put my foot down, and told him if he tried anything like that again, that I'd cut his nuts off.

And I meant it. I was starting to assert my independence, starting to think, act and do for myself as I passed age 21. Plus, I was letting loose some of the latent temper that I inherited from my mother, after years of keeping it tightly bottled up, and none of that sat very well with my uncle.

He tried to bully me, the way he always had, and in some respects, he succeeded. But I was absolutely adamant about staying out of those kinds of situations, for the sake of my health and my safety.

As long as we stayed in the county and worked at Bill's Place, I felt reasonably safe, both from violence and disease. Fact is, I consider myself incredibly lucky that I didn't come out of my four years of whoring for Uncle Bill with some sort of sexually transmitted disease, or that I never encountered any serious violence, at least not until the bitter end.

One thing working in my favor was the fact that in this part of the country at that particular time, AIDS was still mostly a "gay" disease. While I'm sure there were a few gay men in the area, they kept themselves deeply closeted, and I never met one who was open about it in my home county.

I felt like Uncle Bill was deliberately putting me in danger by carrying me to these places, so I reminded him, quite forcefully, that he'd promised that I wouldn't get hurt working for him. He backed off for a time, but his mind was becoming so diseased by what he was doing to me - and to himself - that it was only a matter of time before things would get out of control.

And it really started that Friday night, July 5, 1991.

I've said a couple of times before that over the course of time, I had become a real cum junkie. Starting not long after that night at the adult bookstore three years earlier, I had developed a taste for the stuff.

I loved the taste when I swallowed a man's load, I loved the texture when cum was spewed on my body, especially my face, and I loved the sensation when a man spilled his seed in my pussy or my ass. And, as I said once before, the more cum, the better.

So when a fellow named Jack Cornish came to Uncle Bill about buying me for what he called a Cum Party, I found the idea intriguing. No, let me be honest. I found the idea to be a huge turn-on.

Jack had been coming around for about six months, and he and Uncle Bill had become friendly. Like Bill, he'd been in the service in Europe, and had retired after a long career. He was divorced and lived with a buddy at a place on the outskirts of town.

He said he'd gotten the idea from a club in Amsterdam, where the featured attraction was a "target girl." One of the working girls at the club would be chosen to be the target girl for the night, and her job was to kneel, lie down, stand, whatever, and let anyone who paid a certain fee to shoot cum all over her body.

Naturally, Uncle Bill thought it was a splendid idea, and the deal was made. Jack passed the word around to his friends, acquaintances and patrons at the bar that I would be doing a "special" party the night after the Fourth of July.

I figured a good party was just what I needed to wipe out the funk that I was feeling about the holiday, and all that it meant to me.

Jack wanted me to arrive around 8 o'clock that night, even though the party wasn't scheduled to get going until about 10.

I found out why when I arrived at Jack's that night. He had decided that he was going to have a little pre-party, to get me in the mood, he said. They had some whiskey and they insisted that I have a couple of shots before we got down to business.

After about 15 minutes, I was starting to feel a buzz, which I was grateful for at the moment. This was during the period when my drinking reached its peak. More and more, I was drinking to numb myself to what I was doing, so I wouldn't have to think about it, and I could just lose myself in the alcoholic haze. Hell, there were nights when I simply passed out and they just fucked my comatose body.

There were five of them, Jack, his roommate and three of their friends. I hadn't worn much, just a sundress and sandals, and they quickly got me naked. We were in his kitchen, and as soon as I was naked, I was picked up and laid back on the round table.

While Jack sat on a chair and put his face between my legs to give my pussy a few licks and sucks, the other four men stripped off their clothes. When they were naked, Jack got up, moved the chair out of the way and invited his friends to have at me.

They were all in their late 30s or early 40s, and I honestly don't remember any particular characteristics about any of them, except for Jack and Dave, his roommate. Dave was the first to fuck me, and he just pushed his decent-sized cock up me without any fanfare whatsoever.

I don't know what I expected, but somehow the way they just plowed right in didn't agree with me. I guess it was because at most of these parties an effort was made to get me hot. But not this night. As far as this crowd was concerned, I might as well have been Sophie the Blow-up Doll, for all they cared about my pleasure.

At any rate, I didn't have much time to think about it, because while Dave was ramming his cock back and forth in my pussy, my head was pulled back, off the table, and another cock was pushed into my mouth. This cock quickly began to fuck my throat with hard thrusts that left me choking and gagging.

As this was going on, I felt two cocks fill my hands, and I instinctively wrapped them in my fist and began to jack them. I will say this much for them, they all had some fairly nice-sized cocks.

It took Dave about five minutes of furious humping to fill my pussy with his spunk, then he pulled out and the man who'd been ramming my throat came around and fucked me for about three minutes before he added his load to Dave's.

After they forced two more shots of whiskey down my throat, I felt my legs being lifted high, and Jack pushed his cock into my ass, with no warning or preparation at all. He didn't even bother to lube me up, other than the little bit of cum that had flowed out of my pussy. I howled in pain at the sudden intrusion, and that's when I began to realize that this was not going to be a good experience.

In spite of that, once Jack got going good, the pain subsided some and I started to feel an orgasm building in my guts. I slipped a hand down to my gushing cunt to massage my clit, and I vaguely heard them laughing at me, mocking me for enjoying such treatment. It wasn't that at all. I just realized that if I was going to get any pleasure out of what they were doing to me, it was going to be by my own hand.

Sure enough, as Jack filled my ass with cum, I shuddered as a pretty good climax ripped through me. As soon as Jack pulled out, he moved down to what he called his playroom to get ready to receive his guests.

I wasn't really aware of that. I had a big guy plowing a pretty big cock in my pussy, and I was finally starting to feel some sparks of lust as he filled me to the brim. He added his cum to the soup that was flowing out of my pussy and the last guy pulled me off the table, stood me up, bent me over the table and shoved his cock into my ass.

While he was fucking my ass, Dave was pouring more whiskey down my throat, and I was starting to feel quite drunk. This suited me. I figured the more numb I was, the less I would care about what they did to me.

That would be the case, but only up to a point.

After the last guy came in my ass, I was led, staggering, down a short flight of steps to the den, and there I was met by a stunning sight. The room was filled with approximately 30 men, all sitting or standing around the room naked, and most of them were sporting hard-ons of every size.

They all whooped and hollered when they saw my sweaty, naked body, which was dripping cum from my pussy and my ass.

I was positioned on a padded mat that had been laid on the floor in the middle of the room and told to kneel down to be "anointed," as Jack put it. That brought a chorus of laughter from the men who surrounded me, and I smiled wanly, trying to get into the spirit of things.

I wasn't sure how this was supposed to work, so I called a couple of men over and told them I wanted to suck their dicks. That produced another round of loud hurrahs and laughs.

Two guys with nice-sized cocks moved in front of me, and I took both of them in each hand and got down to business. I mean, I was a pro, and they'd paid for me, so I thought I owed them my best effort. I slid one cock into my mouth and began to work him back and forth. He was just long enough that he hit the entrance to my throat when he pushed all the way in.

The other guy was about the same length, but fatter, and I slobbered all over his fat meat. I went back and forth between these two, as their thrusts became more and more urgent, until they gasped and began to come.

They hit their climax about a split-second apart, with the one on my left shooting his cum across my forehead, my left eye and down my cheek. The other guy shot a good part of his load in my hair, down that side of my nose before shooting a wad onto my chest. I could feel their thick, hot cum dripping down my chin onto my chest as they backed away.

The cum party had officially begun.

Two more cocks materialized in front of me, ready for me to suck, and two other guys moved in next to them, on either side. Those two were apparently content to just masturbate as they watched me work between the two (very) average-sized cocks that were taking turns fucking my mouth.

Suddenly, from behind me, I felt my hips being pulled up and a quite sizable cock slid into my cum-filled pussy. This was a welcome diversion, in that I thought I might actually be able to reach an orgasm without doing it myself.

Apparently, watching me get fucked by a substantial cock was too much for the two guys who were doing themselves, because they suddenly exploded with huge cumshots. They criss-crossed both of my eyes with ropes of hot, stinging cum.

It wasn't but seconds after that before the guys who'd been fucking my mouth pulled out and jacked themselves hard. One plastered cum all over my face in a wide circular area, while the other shot off all over my breasts.

I happened to get a glimpse at the room, and felt a cold chill run up my spine. What had been a crowd of about 30 men had at least doubled, crowding into the room and totally defeating the ceiling fan that was the closest thing to air conditioning Jack had to offer. Even as I swept the room with my gaze, I could feel sweat covering my body.

Then a press of men surrounded me, and all I saw for the next couple of hours were naked men, hard cocks and hot cum.

I was just starting to feel a nice little orgasm build when the man who'd been fucking me pulled out and shot his cum over the small of my back, then he wiped the last dregs of his climax over my buttocks.

It wasn't long after the next man pushed his cock in me from behind that I did finally feel a solid orgasm rip through me, and when he came deep in me, I climaxed again.

Men and cocks were starting to come at me at a dizzying rate, frequently interspersed with shots from a whiskey bottle or a few gulps of beer. And my climaxes were few and far between, the longer the night went.

I felt cum being shot in thick coats from every direction. I had it flowing from my forehead, over my eyes, past my lips, in my hair, and it was splattered liberally over my small tits.

Men fucked my cunt and some filled it with cum, others pushed their cocks in my ass and filled that hole as well. Others who fucked me pulled out and covered my butt with their hot jizz.

I lifted my face to the ceiling as more cum was shot across my nose and over my lips, and I had cocks that were being forced into my mouth to fill my stomach with their hot cream.

All the time, I was being fed whiskey and beer, to the point where the room was just a fuzzy haze. The air was getting almost unbreathable, there was a terrific stench of sweat and cum, and the heat was almost intolerable.

And still they kept on coming - and cumming. At some point, I don't remember when, I had to lie back and close my eyes, to keep from getting sick. Even then, I felt the shower of semen splatter all over my body.

By then, most of them were cumming after sticking their cocks in one or the other of my wide-open holes. Either they fucked my red, swollen pussy, my gaping ass hole, or they pulled my head back and skull-fucked me.

They used me like I was just a cum dump, which, to them, I was. I think I might have orgasmed once or twice after that, just from sheer willpower. But my body seemed to be rejecting the kind of treatment I was getting that night, and, for the most part, I just laid there and took what they gave me, not caring whether I came or not. I just wanted the night to be over.

I really have no idea how many men showed up that night to fuck me and shoot their cum on me. I'm guessing anywhere from 100 to 150, but I have no way of really knowing.