tagIncest/TabooKitty Tales: Uncle Johnny

Kitty Tales: Uncle Johnny


KITTY TALES EPISODE 2 part 1: Uncle Johnny

This little story is dedicated to Sherrie in Mississippi and all the other women who contacted me. I loved your comments. I'd like to chat with ya girl, but your e-mail address was bad. Hope you like the story. Thanks for the feedback on my first story, everyone. I hope you like the first part of this one. The second part will be written shortly. It just got too long. It was a very wild weekend to write about.

A little over 10 years ago, my sex life took an interesting turn. In retrospect, I'm not ashamed or embarrassed. In fact, now that my uncle has passed away, I'm glad I did what I did. It's funny how situations that seem embarrassing at the moment tend to morph as you remember them later. Of course, I'm not a shy person and my perception of sex is that it is for recreation, not procreation, which may influence my memory of the weekend. In fact, I'm sure that it has.

I was in my early 30's when my favorite uncle's wife passed away unexpectedly. Johnny had always been my favorite relative, until my cousin Lynn moved in with my husband and me for a month or so, which is another story I will write about.

Johnny was around 55 at the time we spent a glorious weekend together. He lived in northern Alabama, close to Huntsville. By the way, I get a kick out of driving I-65 around Huntsville, because of the rocket that stands adjacent to the interstate. If the clouds are right, it looks like it's blasting off to fuck a white, puffy pussy. I wonder if that rocket (subliminal phallic symbol?) means that Alabama is a "dick" state? Anyway, it does remind me of my uncle every time I see it.

I hope you noticed that I said the "wife" of my uncle. Although she was technically my aunt, I never liked her much. She was always rude to her nieces and nephews, especially the girls. She looked down on all of us because she was from Tuscaloosa society. Can you imagine anyone from Tuscaloosa looking down on others? What's up with that?

She was also a bitch to my uncle. Johnny was a sweet man, and he loved her as much as any man could love a bitch. I know how much he suffered from having long talks with him in which he confided in me about their sex life. For instance, he had not had a blowjob in over 20 years. She was basically one of those prudish, southern women who wouldn't touch a man's dick without some form of disinfectant handy, and Johnny was not the kind of man to cheat on his wife.

A few months after her funeral, I decided that my son, Nick, to visit him for a weekend. Johnny was always great to Nick, and Nick thought the world of him.

As per usual, my husband (ex-husband now) didn't want to go. In retrospect, I'm glad he didn't. The weekend would have turned out very differently if he had come along.

My ex was a real jerk. At the time of this experience, our marriage was on the rocks. As an example, one night he brought home two girls from a local strip club. They came for some drugs, which my ex always had on hand, and paid for it by having sex with him while I was made to watch. Since we liked to have drinks at that club, it was even more embarrassing because I knew both of them. That pissed me off to no end, and I swore that as soon as I could I was giving this guy the heave, which I eventually did when my son was old enough to understand. My uncle Johnny was twice the man my ex would ever be.

I never had any sexual attraction to Johnny. Oh sure, we hugged and on occasion I'm sure I felt a little bit of a woody when he pressed against me in a casual embrace. But I never gave it much thought.

For his age, Johnny was in pretty good shape. He did have a bit of a belly, which is par for the course for middle-aged men, and he had some of his hair, which didn't matter to me anyway. His eyes were his most attractive feature. Oh, Lordy! Those steel blue eyes could melt most any woman's resistance.

Nick and I had a great time driving up to Huntsville. I was dressed in shorts and a blouse. I never wear a bra (the one major advantage of b-cup titties) unless I had to, and I refuse to wear panties. I like the feel of clothes on my breasts and pussy, and when driving with my hubby, flashing truckers is much easier without panties.

Girls! Have you ever flashed truckers? It's a hoot. One time my current hubby and I were driving up I-65 and stopped in a Cracker Barrel outside of Birmingham for lunch. We bought some of those cherry drops on our way out.

When truckers drove by, I pulled my sundress up to my waist and put my feet on the dashboard. I then took out a cherry drop and inserted it into my pussy. I fingered it around for a sec or two and then pulled it out so that I could feed it to my husband.

We pulled to the left side of the road so that the truckers could get a better view. Before we knew it, we had a convoy, with CB's a chirping. It's amazing how truckers can continually and accurately adjust their speed to stay right in line with you, regardless of what you do.

Uncle Johnny was waiting for us when we arrived. It was around three in the afternoon on one of those hot summer days in Alabama. I was tired from the four-hour trip, but thrilled to see him again.

He looked so sad. Those gorgeous eyes were tired and puffy. I knew he had been crying, but he would never admit it. It's a guy thing. He hugged both of us and pulled our luggage out of the car. Some southern men do know how to be gentlemen.

Johnny's house was magnificent. He was an architect and had designed the house for his wife. Of course, she complained about it to no end. It had five spacious bedrooms, family room, den, beautiful kitchen, in-ground pool, etc. It was the kind of house that made you feel comfortable as soon as you entered the foyer. In other words, the house was a reflection of Johnny.

After my son made his perfunctory hugs, he bolted for the bedroom that Johnny had setup with video games. I knew that was the last I would see of my son until he got hungry. If you have young teens, you know what I am talking about.

After our hugs, we eased into some chairs in the family room. Johnny asked me if I wanted some wine to which I immediately agreed. Wine always gets me relaxed. Since I rarely drink, any alcohol I consume goes right to my head. The end result is that I get less inhibited than usual, if that is believable.

After we finished off the first bottle, I told Johnny that I needed a bath. I promised him that I would cook him a southern dinner. I'm one hell of a cook I might add.

As he picked up some of our luggage, he placed his arm around my waist. With his encouragement, we walked to the master bedroom. His arm around me felt like a security blanket. I knew he would take care of me regardless of what happened in my life, and I wanted to try and remove the pain he was experiencing over his loss. I truly loved my uncle and wished that my husband (ex) were more like him.

Johnny dropped my luggage in one of the spare bedrooms and I retrieved the essentials for my bath. For me, a bath is an experience that is held in the highest regard. It is something to be cherished. One of my favorite swinging rituals is to take a bath with the woman of the other couple, while the men take pictures and videos. I do love that.

Stripping naked was no problem. Off came the sandals, the blouse and the shorts. I was naked as a jaybird in five seconds. Ah! I was free of confinement. I love being naked. Sometimes I can spend the better part of the day without clothes, which does make for some interesting talk around the neighborhood I bet.

I pulled my blonde hair up in a ponytail and stepped into the Jacuzzi tub. The sensation was wonderful, especially when I moved around a bit so that a jet stream was pulsating against my pussy.

As I relaxed in the tub, I heard a faint knock on the bathroom door. It was Johnny asking me if I wanted some more wine. Although I was a bit tipsy already, I told him to come on in and leave the bottle. I was covered with bubbles, so he couldn't see much. Plus, he was my uncle so I didn't give it any thought to inviting him in. He entered a little sheepishly, so I told him not to worry. We were family.

He poured two glasses and then took a seat on the commode, which surprised me a little. Since he seemed to want to watch, I figured that I might as well show off my legs. I asked him to hand me my razor and shaving cream.

At this point something clicked in me. Through my grape haze, evil thoughts began to sprout. Being the exhibitionist that I am, I decided to put on a little innocent show. I really didn't anticipate anything more than that. Boy, was I wrong.

Since I am now naked in the story, I should describe myself. As I have written in an earlier story, I am blonde, about 5'7" and 115 lbs. I have green eyes, small boobs and ass, and long legs. I have a thick, light brown bush that I need to continually trim, especially around my lips. My nipples and areoles are very pink. My nipples stand out close to an inch when properly motivated. I have a small mouth, but I can deep throat a man with an average dick without leaving tread marks from my teeth.

I think that my best assets are my voice and accent. I have a reasonably husky voice for a woman, but not tranny deep. In other words, I don't screech when I talk, but I don't sound butch either.

Along with my voice, I have a southern accent, but not a hillbilly accent. It's more a southern belle accent. I guess I'd say my accent is similar to that of Scarlett O'Hara in "Gone With the Wind."

From the lump in my uncle's shorts, I knew that he liked what he saw, or could almost see. I have to admit I was also getting a little excited. His lump looked pretty good in those shorts, and I hadn't had sex for weeks.

Obviously, he had been spending time outside or at the tanning bed, because his legs and arms were tan. For the first time, I noticed that for a man of 55, his legs looked great. They weren't skinny or flabby. I just hoped that he didn't put on some black socks to ruin the image.

After allowing Johnny to watch me shave my calves and thighs, I told him that he would have to leave or get very embarrassed. I explained that I needed to trim my pussy. The look on his face was priceless. I mean, he went the color of the sand around the gulf coast—we are talking sugar white here folks.

To his credit, it only took a few seconds for him to regain his composure. He responded that he would love to see me trim my pussy, because he had never seen a woman do that before. I could not believe that I was flirting with my uncle, and he was reciprocating.

I told him that he was gross. But I did say it with a bit of a smile. In mock frustration, I told him that if he wanted to be a gross old man that he was welcome to stay, and I would provide him visual instructions on how to do it for any new woman in his life. I then splashed him with water, which gave him a glimpse of my boobs. The little suckers do pop out now and then.

With that, he laughed and headed toward the door to give me some privacy. He mumbled something about being a tease as he closed the door behind him.

I did need to trim, so I went to work. Well, the trimming only got me more excited. I soon found myself stroking my lips, which were already swollen. It was easy to slip a couple of fingers in my slit, and my clit was aching for some stroking.

I laid back and placed my feet on the side of the tub so that I could get better access to my pussy. As I stroked and fingered myself, I shut my eyes and fantasized about an old girlfriend of mine. It didn't take long until I was moaning. As I wrote previously, I am very vocal during sex.

I was really getting into my little masturbation session when I heard a faint sound by the door. I opened my eyes and saw a shadow beneath the door. Obviously, someone was listening to me fuck myself. I just hoped it wasn't my son. That would be too embarrassing. Duh, like he has never heard it before.

With that, I decided that I should complete the trim and head downstairs to identify the auditory voyeur. I dried off, put on the sarong I always wear after a bath, grabbed my lotion and headed toward the room in which my son was playing video games. I peeked in and said hello, but he totally ignored me. It was obvious that he was oblivious to what was happening outside of his video game world.

I made my way to the family room and spotted Johnny leafing through some "Guns and Ammo" magazines. (Coffee table material in Alabama.) I sauntered over to the couch, which was directly across from where he was seated, and plopped down in an inglorious manner.

The sarong that I was wearing was only mid-thigh, so he got a good look at my freshly shaved legs. He about fell out of his chair as I started to apply lotion to my legs. I'm sure that he got more than one glimpse of my pussy as I adjusted my legs so that I could more evenly apply the lotion. In case he didn't, I nonchalantly opened my thighs a few inches. I left them open for a good 30 seconds a couple of times. It had the effect I wanted.

His face changed from a normal tone to a rose hue as he tried to sneak peeks at me legs and pussy. I felt like a little shit because he was trying so hard not to be obvious, and I was teasing the hell out of him. It's fun to be a woman sometimes.

I decided that he had been teased enough, so I excused myself to get dressed. Actually, I needed a few minutes to think this situation through. Even in my wine-induced state, I knew where this could lead if I didn't stop. Also, what about my son? It would be hard to explain why Johnny's dick was sliding in and out of my pussy if Nick walked in on us.

As I contemplated the situation, I knew I was in trouble. I have always had a daddy complex when it came to sex. I really like older men. I get a chuckle when younger guys IM me about having sex with a young stud. Sorry baby, but you ain't got no shoes for mama. Now, if you were a younger woman (or older), we could talk.

If the situation hadn't changed, nothing would have happened that weekend. I decided that I didn't have a problem fucking my uncle if he had interest, but I couldn't take the risk of my son catching us. I am very open with my son now about my sex life, but he was way too young back then to comprehend what I was talking about. So, I decided to make the best of it and just masturbate when I went to bed.

After dinner, I washed up the dishes as Johnny fixed us some drinks, which we took to the poolside. It was great fun talking about our lives. Of course, the subject turned to sex on a number of occasions.

We both complained about our sex lives. Johnny complained in the past tense and I complained in the present. We quickly became aware that both of us had not had much sex for quite awhile, and that relief would be nice. Talk about two horny people.

Around seven, my son changed the entire complexion of the weekend. He bolted down the stairs like a hippo in heat and announced that he wanted to spend the night with one of his friends. I knew the family well from our previous visits to the area, so I had no problem. Further, his absence freed me to give thought to my immediate sexual problem. I wanted to get laid, and the opportunity was presenting itself. If I had to, I'd find someone to fuck me if my uncle wasn't interested.

Once my son left for the night (which turned into the entire weekend), Johnny and I reposed to the pool area. As the evening wore on and the drinks flowed, I naturally became tipsy. Now, I don't need to drink to have fun, but sometimes it can relax me if I am a little tense. To say the least, I was totally relaxed.

Around 10, I decided that it was time to check in on my youngin to make sure he was still on earth and hadn't worn out his welcome. When I stood up, my head took a couple of twists that I didn't anticipate, and I fell flat on my ass.

Johnny was quick to pick me up and while doing so accidentally grabbed one of my boobs. He quickly pulled his hand away when he realized what he had done. In response I gave him one of my pouting looks and said that it was my turn to squeeze something of his. What's good for the goose is good for the gander.

After calling my son and trying not to sound like a drunken fiddler's bitch, I decided that it was time to go for the golden rod. My seduction might fail, but I was willing to give it the ole college try. At the very least I could get a refreshing swim out of it.

I asked Johnny if he'd like to take a swim with me, but he declined. I asked him if he would mind if I did, but in the nude. I explained that I had forgotten to pack a suit. He found out later that I had packed both a one-piece and a bikini (butt floss kind). I fibbed a little.

Since he had a privacy fence and no one could see into the backyard, he said it was safe if that is what I really wanted to do. I smiled at him and said why not. We're family.

A stripped off my shorts and top in a New York second and dived into the pool. The cool water instantly caused a major eruption from my nipples. There they were standing tall and proud. Even Bufford Pusser would have been impressed.

I swam around a little bit on my stomach, and then turned over on my back. Although Johnny was trying to be a gentleman, I caught him glancing at my body about every nanosecond. I guess it was an interesting sight to see my tits and bush poking out of the water like two ships being chased by a furry Godzilla.

After about 10 minutes of this, I asked him to get me a towel so that I could dry off. As I exited the pool, I made sure that I rubbed my breasts against his arms. I was sending all kinds of messages. Sometimes, I'm just not too subtle.

I asked him to dry my back. He did a feeble job of it at first, but started to get into it. As he worked on my back, I asked him to dry of my butt and legs. As he did this, he surprised me by getting down on one knee. He was eye level with my butt as he dried the outside and then the inside of my legs. I spread my legs a little to allow him more room for "drying."

He told me that he was finished, but I corrected him. I still needed to have my front dried. I turned around and his face was now eye level with my bush. I took the towel from him and quickly dried my tits (they were getting cold). He started to stand thinking the fun was over, but I put my hand on his shoulder. I gave him the towel and asked him to finish the job, and that he did, except he didn't even finish drying my legs. Instead, he reached up and slowly parted my pussy lips with his rugged fingers. Of course, I was as wet as an Amazon rain forest. He then leaned forward and nuzzled my bush as his fingers slowly stroked my slit.

A couple of minutes of this and my legs began to give way. He felt me losing it and stood encircling my waste with his arms. The next thing I knew I was being carried toward the lounge chairs on the deck.

I put my arms around his neck and rested my chin on his chest. He smelled great. Later I found out that he was wearing Paul Sebastian. I get wet now every time I encounter that wonderful scent.

My pussy was overflowing. I was in heat and had to be fucked. I didn't care who fucked me, but someone was going to fuck me. I get like that when I am exceptionally aroused. I don't care who fucks me. Hell, the hunchback from Notre Dame looks good when I am in that state.

I came to rest on my back with Johnny kneeling over me. He kissed me for the first time. It was one of the kisses women die for. I was swooning as his tongue gently explored my mouth.

I felt his fingers trace my neck and shoulders as he searched for my tits. Once he was there, he did a masterful job. He squeezed and kneaded them, and pulled on my nipples until they extended to their full length. He pinched them a little too hard, which made me jump a bit. But a little pain just gets me more excited.

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