Milena - My Wife and her Uncle

Her eyes went wide. "Oh my God!" she moaned; I kept going. "Yes... Yes!"

"Are you gonna let your old uncle suck on your sexy tits!?" I panted, straining to keep a constant rhythm in my alienation.

"Hmm..." She whimpered, closing her eyes and biting her whole lower lip. She threw her head to the side. I changed my angle to hit her deeper but slower, stimulating myself with the button of her womb.

"AH!" She put her hand to my chest, immediately looking down at her belly. "Oh, you're deep. Ooh you are so deep."

"You want him to lick your tits, don't you?"

She raised her eyes into mine, grunting with each thrust.

Her lashes fluttered. "He already did...he licked my nipples, papi. I let him suck on my tits as much as he wanted."

I got more than I bargained for.

Imagining my perfect, submissive wife in the kitchen, quietly moaning with her cheeks flushing red on her unblemished skin, having her tits groped and sucked by her dirty old uncle--perhaps even rubbing his cock through his trousers--made me see black spots.

I pushed my whole weight on top of her. Her legs slid to each of my sides. My hands found the back of her knees, spreading her wide to pump her hard and deep.

I groaned into her ear, lost, mad for the first time in years, "Ooh my God, Milena! I'm gonna cum. Fucking take it, take my cum!"

She begged, both arms quickly embracing me in acceptance, "Yes! Give it to me! Inside, come inside me."

And I came.

I pumped erratically hard -- the electric shocks of each volley of cum going straight into the entrance of her womb made me see fireworks in my darkening vision. My upper body trembled with each jerk until I collapsed. My body and mind were empty.

It was the best orgasm of my life; of my entire fucking life.

--------------

I opened my eyes, slowly, making sense of where I was. Something moved under me.

"Hi there. Did you like that?" she smiled wickedly, "You owe me an orgasm, mi vida."

I met her gaze in an awkward angle, still on top of her.

I had fallen for mere minutes, but I couldn't grasp my consciousness. All the moments from our delirious sex kept coming back in pieces, like messages echoing in a distant mist.

"I'm sorry, amor. I came so quickly. It was... It was--"

Whatever I'd meant to say suddenly turned irrelevant. I couldn't have had described it anyway.

Completing my groggy attempt at speech, she said, "I know. It really was." Beaming with a calm satisfaction.

I had never felt so focused and relaxed, the world and it's worries were...immaterial. Each and every detail in our room took my complete attention, as though the objects had come to life and had an interesting story to tell, much like pictures bring stories of their own.

Sadly, it wouldn't last.

With the hormones leaving my body, I remembered the new dimensions of our privacy. I turned, getting my weight off, to lay in bed.

"Do you think they heard us?" I asked in a whisper (moronically pointless at the moment).

She tensed and sat up over the covers.

Other than the sex, I was afraid of having laid out my deepest fantasy to our visitors; I considered it one of my darkest secrets. It took years before I realized I even had it, and then some more to tell my wife. Even then, I didn't fully understand it, so what someone else would think filled me with dread.

"There is no way my sister woke up. Believe me, we could be doing it beside her and she would never know," she smirked. "My uncle...not so much." She seemed suddenly embarrassed by the thought of her uncle listening to us. "He has like a radar for these things."

"He could always tell when I had a boyfriend," she continued, biting her thumbnail. I noticed this was the beginning of another of her stories about Colombia, but right now I had too much in my mind to pay her the attention she deserved. "Once, when I was getting out of high-school he..."

"Honey, honey, I'm sorry. I love your stories but-"

"No, you're right! I'm sorry! I'm just a little nervous." She took both hands in front of her mouth to warm them with shaky breath as the cold air kept creeping through the balcony door, the rail had been damaged months ago and it never fully closed since. "This day has been completely crazy, I don't understand what happened. I shouldn't have done that. What was I thinking?" I could see her starting to panic.

I held her in silence, still a little drowsy from the climax.

What did happen? By the way. I thought.

We had established that it was only a peek at first, but then her story kept escalating until I didn't know what was true and what was fantasy. Did she really let her uncle have his way with her tits all that time she was downstairs? Or had it been really just a peek? And 'He's always like that with me'? What was that about?

In any case, it was clear than this experience was miles beyond anything we've ever done. Never, never had I ever expected this to happen in real life, but now, having had the kind of sex that you masturbate to...I didn't want to think about it, but deep down I wondered if this wasn't an answer to our problems.

"Milena, what you did today led to the best sex we've ever had. I'm also...I'm not sure of what happened but, didn't you feel it too? We've never been like that, we were so close, so-so WILD. It was crazy. I think I can die today, smiling." I said in honesty. My sincere admiration made her chuckle as she stared at me with her signature shy smile. "You know this is a thing of mine. I never thought we'd actually do it but... That was the best sex I've ever had."

She shook her head slowly, still smiling at me."You know, I never in my life thought anyone could have a fantasy like this." She raised one of her eyebrows, "You are kind of a pervert."

Even after all these years her sexy accent still showed. I loved this woman.

"Hm. Well, I'd never seen you beg for my cum before, so I'd say you're something of a pervert yourself, senorita." I sentenced with a feigned arrogant smirk.

She gasped, smiling in incredulous surprise. "Oh my--!" She exclaimed. "Stop!" Her voice now cowering behind her palm.

Well this, this is definitely my wife, not the person I just had sex with, I thought, and definitely not the one who let herself get fondled by her uncle.

I still didn't know if that part was true, but a stirring persuaded me to believe.

----------------

On the next day, I woke up to an empty house.

A clean, chilly wind ever creeping through the sliding balcony door, usually kept me from sound sleep (and that was only when I actually managed to sleep, thinking about money, bills, food) -- not last night; I couldn't remember ever closing my eyes.

Beating anxiety had been the name of the game for months; without my main job, our savings were everything. Now, even our modest life felt expensive; our money trickled away like grains on a sandwatch. I feared the checkout when shopping for groceries; the total always seemed to multiply exponentially, no matter how much I begged it to stop. If I stood alone, silent, I could hear them in my head: every grain, inching us closer to losing our way of life. But not today.

I had slept so well. It took me a couple seconds to figure out where I was and how I was positioned in bed. The usually gloomy, freezing day felt brighter and held the perfect excuse to cuddle with my wife under the covers before starting the morning, only, she wasn't there.

When I stepped into the kitchen, hungry, I saw the microwave: 11 am.

What the fuck? I thought, I slept into noon?

I even had a dream. It was foggy; every time I tried to bring back the memory, only a fragment would allow itself to be reeled in, until there was nothing else to grasp. I remembered my wife; the contour of her face shrouded in mist, white skin in a dark fog that surrounded her parted lips glistening, inviting.

Milena's hips accentuated a Latin ass that has had me begging God to get into for years. It could be somewhat concealed -- under a plated skirt's pattern, or some impossibly awful pants; but there was no escaping her lips. Pink, plump lips combined with her cute apparent innocence to drive me insane. They were impossibly soft. At rare, random times a simple conversation would make me want to take her right where she stood. Of course, I respected her own rhythm once I got to know it.

Well, almost always.

---------------

There was this one time in the car. I don't remember why but, we were waiting in the driveway, talking, but my eyes were drawn to her rosy, full lips. My desire grew until my distraction was evident.

"What's wrong?" said Milena.

I planted a deep short kiss on her lips, fumbling with my jeans, before grabbing the back of her head and slowly guiding her to my exposed dick.

"Oh!" she gasped, "Oka--"

Her head began to bob up and I set back on the seat. I was king of the world. She wasn't very good, obviously inexperienced, but those damn lips and doing it in public more than made up for it.

Why can't life be more like this?

I knew I wouldn't finish with her hurried pace and the occasional teeth scrape, but I would make sure to savour every second until she stopped. I opened my eyes to see one of our neighbors, distant but walking in this direction through the sidewalk.

He puzzled me. I used to play a little game where I tried to guess where his body ended and his head started. He was an old, english, tall man--divorced I believe--with a peculiar, distinctive physique; his upper body had the shape of an egg. He was too broad in his center and always wore one too many clothes, which only accentuated the problem. This seemed to dwarf his head, nestled as it was, slightly too close to his chest. Paired with his long, surviving strands of silvering hair made it even more challenging to find his short neck. The top of his head was balding and he held on to the last strands that resisted his genetic agenda. For me, it was the only logical explanation as to why would anyone decide keep such a bizarre look; maybe he just let himself go years ago. Still, I don't remember when was the last time I had not seen him lending a hand in the neighborhood -- you needed him, he was there, and never have I heard of him charging anyone a dime.

He was walking to his house, right next to ours in his path, so naturally, my first impulse was to wrap things up, but I didn't; I couldn't. By then I'd long started to thirst for the taboo. My new fantasies were like a rebellious twitch against my comatose, boring (sex) life. I wanted to fuck in the back of an alley, I wanted to strap a vibrator into my wife and take her to a restaurant, I wanted to sodomize her in our balcony, to have sex in front of complete strangers; anything wild or forbidden, and this was my chance. Instead of hiding back my cock, I used my hand to encourage my wife's fellatio, basking in the tingling anxiety of our possible exposure.

But I didn't actually want my wife to be seen--or me--and I didn't think she could get me to climax, but this was my first chance to cum inside her warm mouth; I had to do something.

I envisioned myself sitting in the living room -- from the window you can see my car in the driveway. My wife had used it to bring groceries, but she'd arrived minutes ago. I got up to see my neighbor, standing next to the driver's window, jerking his cock rapidly to my wife offering the sight of her bare tits to stimulate his release.

A shy smile complemented her nervous expression. She cupped her tits, staring at his cock and occasionally looking for passing cars.

She unconsciously licked her lips and playfully pinched her nipples, opening her mouth to let out a small moan. The forbidden nature of their act was adding heavily to her arousal.

He silently sped up his jerking.

My wife, straightening her back, leveled her tits to the head of his cock, pursing her lips with eyes shut in anticipation of his explosion.

Instead, the old man reached for the back of her head and pulled her surprised, reluctant face to his purple head, gently but inexorably, until her nose stuck to his graying curly pubes.

She lays her hands on both sides of his slowly thrusting hips, mouth full but uncertain, and closed her eyes again, accepting rope after rope of his cum, swallowing again and again during a ten seconds climax.

With the image of my wife's slutty, consenting mouth, I finally came. I could see that our neighbor had gotten pretty close to us, still on the sidewalk. I figured that he couldn't see Milena from that angle. That was until she raised her head.

She opened her door to spit my cum into the grass--never leaving her seat--and cleared her throat to say, "Wow, that felt like a lot. Did you like it? Was it good?" wiping a lucid string from her lip.

"Yes honey, thanks. I hope it wasn't too uncomfortable for you, I know that you aren't used to this sort of thing." I was unreasonably afraid she'd discover the perverse thoughts I had had throughout her blowjob, but she'd returned to her phone.

"No, it's okay. I don't mind," she said.

I glanced at our moving, single-manned audience -- if he noticed the sexiest woman in the neighborhood suspiciously raising from my lap, he didn't show it. He passed us and went straight into his house.

I felt uneasy. The thought of my neighbor watching my wife sucking cock lingered: I needed to know. I walked to stand in the sidewalk, facing the driveway. I'd thought that Milena would be hidden under the driver's door, but from where I was standing you could clearly see the entire steering wheel because of the driveway's angle.

My orgasm had ended, but my heart was still racing. That was the first (and only) time I'd had a full blowjob--and in public, no less--from Milena, albeit taken, not given. Still, what we had done, and the idea of our hermit neighbor watching my wife's head tossing up and down in my lap... I was gonna get hard again if I wasn't careful.

Then, I leaned into the driver's windows to look at Milena. For some reason, a part of me had been slightly... insulted, at her spitting my semen, but this irked me; Milena was indifferent. Calm as ever with her phone, browsing who knows what, as though nothing had happened at all.

God knows I've tried it all, I thought. Sex is good--if a little traditional--so, what is the problem?

Something pulled me out of my brooding though. There was no way this was a cold breeze's doing -- we were in summer, I was sweltering. Maybe my wife was too stubborn to let herself feel excited about our little adventure, but her nipples didn't lie.

I couldn't hold my grin.

--------------

The backdoor's lock rattled. My eyes went from my phone on the kitchen table to Milena. She had a tank top and jeans -- with only a small, short cardigan to guard her, she seemed more than glad to escape the cold in her rush. It wasn't much warmer in here.

"Uy, que frio hace por Dios!" she said, "Hola, mi amor." I'd heard more spanish in the last 24 hours than in the past 12 months combined. I loved that accent.

"Yeah I know, I'll turn on the..."

My eyes squinted.

They look bigger than usual, I thought. And they jiggled, hypnotizing--as Milena rapidly rubbed her palms to gather what she could from the friction--and crowned with her tenting nips. I wondered how the butterfly felt on her necklace, glimmering gold and nestled in heaven.

"Ahm... Yeah, winter. It's kinda early this year," I said.

"And COLD. It's never been like this before. I know we're saving but no way, just no way, we have to turn it on. We can cut something else," she said. "Do you think it will snow? I would really like to see that. Just from the inside though, from like, far away."

"Don't think so. Honey, If you were so cold, why did you only wear that tiny sweater?"

"I don't like the others, this one is so comfy," she said, rubbing her arms with a sweet smile.

"Well, You could have borrowed one of my sweaters or two. Or maybe one of your sister's. I mean, she hadn't even unpacked and you'd already taken her pants," I teased her.

She raised one of her eyebrows, "It was a gift, okay?"

With her arms crossed under her tits they looked even better in that slim tank top. The new tension on her shirt showed the shade of her areolae under the kitchen light.

"You said borrowed."

"No, I didn't." She sentenced, pretending to be distracted with something else.

"Okay," I said, holding a chuckle.

I noticed her black polished toenails in wedged sandals, and a golden heart on her anklet as she opened the fridge looking for nothing in particular. "You're even wearing sandals?"

"Yes...?" she said, artificially absentminded.

"You look really sexy today." I commented.

That lit her whole face as she turned and said, "Thank you, mi vida. I wanted to," smiling proud.

"It's freezing though."

"Well come and hug me," she said, taking both her tank top and sweater in one swift movement.

My throat dried up so fast I wheezed a 'Holy fuck'.

My body moved, completely caught in her sexual spell. I warmed my hands with her jean covered ass while my mouth went straight into her tits, wanting to taste every single inch of them, of her body.

I turned her back to me, holding her very close, pawing away at her breasts and nipples, slowly grinding on her ass.

"That was so fucking hot Milena," I said. "What's got you so naughty today?" She closed her eyes and laid back her head on my shoulder; now I had free view of her cupped pair. "Milena... Your tits look so fucking big right now."

The fresh, fruity smell of her hair and the enticing warmth of her flesh were like water on a desert journey; only they wouldn't sate my thirst -- one thing would, certainly, for several minutes and in several positions.

She smiled with satisfaction and purred, "Hmm... Yeah, they're a little bigger today. I've also been so horny all day; it has to be my period. It's due."

They'd usually get a little 'swollen' as she called it (I called it 'Goddamn'), but if there was another bonus I would thank God no questions asked.

"Oh yeah? So this little pussy's wet because of that?" I muttered rhetorically under her ear, feeling her camel toe over her jeans.

"I think so... You know what that means, too?" she moaned, rubbing my cock over my pants.

"Hmm?"

Milena raised her hand to the back of my neck and whispered into my ear, "That you can cum inside me as much as you want until I get my period."

My eyes went white in anticipation. "Oooh my God yes, Milena."

"Would you like that?" she whispered, nibbling my earlobe.

"You're being such a hot little slut today honey," I said, panting.

"Yeah. I even touched myself a little in the car."

"Yeah...?" I repeated in a whisper. Her words kept testing my sanity; I'd been fighting the impulse to fuck her nude on the balcony.

"Uh-huh..." Milena turned whole to face me. "Just outside in the driveway, too. I had been so hot all day. I just couldn't resist it anymore, papi," she said, opening her jeans and grabbing my hand to stimulate her clitoris in stiff circles over her black panties.

"I love those," I muttered. Looking back at her, a little, distant part of me felt...uneasy.

Her dark green eyes shimmered over the gray palette of the cloudy, winter afternoon as she smiled wickedly. "Want to see how they look today?"

I nodded slowly, without thinking, while she raised one of her elegant, beautiful feet into a chair to unstrap her black, toe wedged sandal. Inside her bag, her phone rang with a text and I got my brain back to think for a moment during the pause of her display.

Milena was prone to be careless. I was afraid of who might've seen my wife's 'private' session.