Milena - My Wife and her Uncle

"Did anyone see you out there, in the car?"

"Hmm, No. I don't think so..." She was struggling with the other sandal. The pin in the tight strap refused to come out of its hole. "I'm not sure," she said, a little agitated.

Her phone was ringing again -- a phone call. The pin kept slipping from her finger with the obnoxious ringtone in the background. She refrained from using her nails--probably to preserve the manicure--but she was obviously losing her patience. Just before I offered to help she finally released the stubborn strap with a forceful twist to answer the phone. She spoke only twice before hanging up and moaned; we both knew the momentum had been lost. It was the second time we had been interrupted in less than 24 hours.

"Who was that?"

"My uncle," she said. "About what time to pick him up. I'll need the car again."

The contempt in her voice didn't match a simple, inopportune phone call.

"Of course," I said. "Are you okay? Did something, happen, this morning?"

She leaned to pick up the small mingled pile of her clothes.

"Oh my God. Don't even ask, just-- don't." She sighed, "I'm sorry."

I was confused; Milena was usually the cheerful one. I was so focused on how I'd been feeling that I'd assumed she had had a good day.

"It's okay... I uh..." I started a sentence but I didn't really know how best to help her.

"Can you just please turn on the oven?" she said.

"The furnace, honey. I'll...turn on the furnace," I automatically corrected. "I mean yes, I'll be right back." It could take hours before we were comfortable with the temperature.

"I am going to bed," she said plainly.

I watched her turn on the stove, her tits still bare, to brew up some coffee before I head downstairs into the small basement.

I met with the metal square that was responsible for heating up the whole house. Only that, a small table and the washing machine populated the space, along with a couple of rusty chairs. Whatever you threw in there would ultimately succumb to corrosion and oblivion.

It was silent. There was a tiny window connected to the garage, but the amount of junk we'd been bombed with by relatives over the years--a sea of unmarked boxes and half used products of all kinds--made parking the car inside a dangerous game for the painting. The only reason Milena would go there would be to dream it either gone or set on fire, so down here, it was you and the occasional, random mechanical noises from the furnace.

My father was great, but had failed to teach me many things, and among them were all things electric. Now, the furnace was stupidly easy to operate, yet somehow I dreaded these encounters anyway. Perhaps it was mere superstition, but if it were to break at this time it would be a real house life tragedy. We simply could not afford to make a mistake right now.

With the flick of a switch my 'work' was done. I anxiously waited for the mechanical chirping before it soothed me. I imagined its warmth spreading through the walls, enjoying the tranquility in this dark room, concealed and indifferent to the outside world. I relaxed, and my mind drifted until it found my wife again. I pictured one of my wife's feet on the dashboard of our car, her legs wide open in wanton display, masturbating in the driver's seat, to any one of my neighbors to see.

My dick grabbed me by the hand (for a change) and set me to find Milena upstairs.

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I climbed up the creaking planks to see her standing by the gap on the door, conversing to a man. I couldn't see him with my wife standing barefoot between us, but his haircut gave him right away. I was sure I'd pick up his typical accent if I listened closely.

Ever since the blowjob incident, my neighbor found himself in the exact moment, at the right place to reach out and talk to my wife. I've been attentive. He didn't leer or try to flirt in any way, I never caught him glancing at her cleavage or-- anything; it was strange. As though he simply enjoyed conversing with a neighbor; which, well, he was. I thought perhaps the internet and my fantasies had twisted my perception.

In time I concluded he was lonely. A single man--never remarried--with no kids that we knew, who nurtured and relished every real contact he could get into. It was sad to think that after all he had done for his community the only person that was there for him was an elderly nurse from downtown. She helped him with meals--two days of sick leave were testimony to his culinary skills--among other things, but Milena guessed it was really just to make him company. He still looked strong enough and independent for a man his age.

My wife giggled politely and said goodbye. I don't know for how long I'd been down there, but she looked slightly disoriented; disheveled, as thought she'd been caught in her sleep.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"Who else could it be," she said, muttering. Milena had a point, we rarely had visit. "Ugh, I was just having the best nap ever."

I saw it, I just didn't know how to address the 'bumps' in the room.

"Umm... Honey, your uh..." I said, pointing at her tank top.

"What?" she looked down to see that the cold had worked on her nipples. "So? They're nipples, they get hard. You too have two you know? I'm just so tired of having to--"

"No, no Milena." I stopped her, surely about to carry on and on about women's objectification. "The...The outline of your um..."

She finally noticed her left areola, wrinkled with the winter breeze and showing over the seam of her shirt. The flexible fabric had stuck under her breast. It probably didn't budge when she tried to adjust the shirt.

How do they not notice these things? I wondered. Although I was certainly not going to ask in her current mood; good choice too.

She stared at me in panic. "Ay Dios mio! Ay no! And I have been talking to him--I must have been there for li-like a whole ten minutes, I... And all this time he could see it!" exclaimed Milena. "Oh my God this day just can't get any worst," she said, covering her face with her hands.

"Worse, honey."

Shit.

She raised her head with vengeance in her eyes. In other circumstances the intensity behind her green would have been captivating, but in that moment I knew I'd made a big mistake.

"I need some air," she said. Anger fuming through her motions.

I gently grabbed her by the arm, frantically trying to speak, "Wait, no, no I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." She slowly turned to me and I continued. "I just don't know where this is coming from. Why are you so upset? I mean, there's a lot of reasons to be upset about but, which one? Is it just this?" I said pointing at the door as her eyes swelled with tears."Whoa, hey, it's okay. Talk to me, amor."

The faint smell of burnt coffee hit my nose and I immediately ran to turn off the stove.

"God... The coffee. I'm sorry," she said, lying on the couch. Milena looked completely beat.

"Don't worry about it." I said, frowning worried.

"It's just that, today. Today was a lot, a lot happened. The day has been a disaster," she said.

"How come?"

"Well. First, I awoke to my uncle's boxer covered...thing dangling in my face when he shook me awake. Not like, gently, by the way. I don't know how you slept through that. He informed me that I had to drive him somewhere and now. He could've at least told me last night, but no, everything's like that with them," she said, snapping her fingers.

"That was rude," I agreed.

"Yeah." She said, wiping tears. "And then we spent the whole morning looking for an address, me starving. But no, the best part, guess what: he had copied it wrong. We had been circling around the stupid building for half an hour! It's near that old butcher's shop, the one with the big hook in the front? The same block."

"Near that place with the creepy dolls."

"Right. So we get out of the car and he tells me to wish him luck and what not; he had like a business meeting in there, I don't know. He was really nervous. I'm already stressed but I do my best to smile. Really, after the morning he'd put me through I just kind of wanted to punch him in the face. So I lean to peck him on the cheek and, out of nowhere, he said, 'I'm gonna need more luck' and kissed me on the lips. "

I was dying inside but I kept my face straight. I knew something would come up, although I didn't really know what to expect.

"Jesus..." I said.

"Yeah! Full. Blown. Kiss. RIGHT on the street. There were people walking by us! We used to buy our meat there not so long ago. The owner knows me, I've seen people from our neighborhood buy their food in there. I was in shock. He kept going on and on until I pushed him. I was so mad... We had a really bad fight. People stared at us with all the yelling and the spanish. He can be such an ASSHOLE sometimes."

I had a hard time keeping my mind from picturing the scene. An erection right now would be as inappropriate as kissing your uncle in a busy street, or any street really.

"No kidding." I said.

"Then, I come home all hot and horny with my period screwing with my hormones, and started to...to touch myself a little, in the car. I close my eyes for a moment and next thing I know, there he is; the neighbor I mean, coming my way -- I'm starting to think that he waits for us under the fence."

For you, I thought.

"I SWEAR: if I hear about England one more time, I'll go crazy. I'll go crazy! I feel like I live there already." Milena had dubbed our neighbor Mr. English. His country was his favorite topic in conversation. Really, the man always found time to talk about his beloved England; when he lived in London and how beautiful it was. "So I panicked and practically ran into the backyard like, crouching--I don't know why I did that, I mean, he could obviously see me-- and almost slipped. Everything is so wet. I think I broke one of the thingys on the sandal. These are my favorites." She said with a sad voice, picking up one them from the floor.

"Yeah...they look really good on you," I said with my most sympathetic tone.

"And I'm not even sure if he saw what I was doing in the car. But, I mean, this street is always empty, always in silence, it had to be today that he ran into me," she said. Her voice was still full of emotion. Her whole day had really been a mess.

I got up and offered her a bit of rum, which I'd found to be the only thing I left. A gift from a former client that had been sitting on the shelf for years -- the bottle was dusty but the design was elegant. My wife hated strong drinks but she gulped it down with ease.

"After that, I get inside, and it's even COLDER than outside...did you turn on the heat?"

"Yeah! It just takes a while, you know how it is."

"Yeah. So I get inside try to be sexy and my uncle calls. I mean, UGH!" she exclaimed.

I felt sympathetic, and amused. "I know--"

"No, no. And the cherry on the top? My sixty year old neighbor, who probably saw me touching myself in the car ALSO saw my tit."

I served her a second glass, half full this time, and she took it down gladly while my mind processed all that she'd said in such a short span. I put the bottle on the coffee table in front of the couch and sat beside her.

"Well..." I took a deep breath before I said, "It's a really nice tit though."

That got her laughing. I loved that sincere happiness.

"I'm sorry you had such a shitty day. I had no idea, I woke up like, trying to make out which way was up after the sex last night." I smirked.

She was blushing. Her hand tucked her hair behind her ear. "Yes. It was amazing. Hey, you owe me--"

"An orgasm, yeah." We both laughed. I grabbed her hand and kissed it. "Look, I knew this would be...tricky, I just didn't think it to be so difficult for you too. Your family is, well--they can be rude at times, but maybe--"

"That's not all," she said, raising her hand and sighed. "You know what? I think it's enough for today, we can talk about it in the morning."

"Right. Okay. Where's your sister by the way?"

"Probably asleep, with the jet lag," she said. "I saw her this morning -- she must've been starving. I gave her my breakfast before I went out."

Yeah, I thought. Why did the old man had no jet lag?

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

While a drive alone with my uncle-in-law was right next to drinking water from a drain in the top ten of things I didn't want to do, I wanted her day to end well.

I parked in front of the building. An inconspicuous square of gray bricks, three stories tall in the west (old) part of town, surrounded by local shops, fruits and vegetables on the shelves out the front and a cafe.

Alone, I thought about the nerve of this guy. To make out with his married niece, right here on the street... I couldn't understand how a man of his age could behave that way with a blood relative. It was the kind of thing you'd read on the internet; a dark scandal coming from a distant, twisted corner of the world. I'd never thought I'd see it myself.

And Milena.

I'd seen her evade my sexual innuendos for petty things like, the clothes she was wearing at the moment, the amount of time we had -- once, because of the lighting. Why was she so passive with this dirty old man? Did she really not get that he was being overtly sexual? Did she think he was harmless?

Something told me I had to cut this visit short and wash my hands off of this mess.

I loved my wife. I wanted her only for myself. Our relationship was straining, but I wanted to fix things properly: go to therapy, grow, change together. But there was a part of me; the worst part of me... The truth was, I'd never had such great sex before. It reminded me of the first time I came inside a girl. Even so, no edging, no POV, no games or stories came close. Life here was nice and easy--we were struggling with money--but soul-sucking dull. I felt as if someone had picked a random day in my week and played it on repeat. This had been the most exciting thing that had happened in my life since Colombia.

I couldn't shake the image of my wife's tits being groped, fondled and licked, or her luscious innocent lips corrupted in a public kiss. I couldn't shake her words: 'he's always like that with me'. What did that mean? What had they done before?

I noticed my hand over my cock and let go. That's when the man came out of the building, talking to his phone and heading for the wrong car.

I scoffed at his mistake and chuckled. "What is he doing?"

He got into the passenger door and the van drove. I got out of my car, bewildered and confused.

"Hm." My tongue slid through my molars as I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief.

"What a fucking prick."

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I got to the house first, after a long drive.

Cruising through the city's dusk was one of the small pleasures of my life. Feeling the cold wind coming through the window as I traversed under the orange lights, downtown brimful of nightlife, always made me feel younger and hopeful.

I went upstairs to check on my wife, but she was behind locked doors with her sister.

I took the opportunity to take some of the edge off on my bedroom, cautiously alert. About an hour of short videos later I heard their door. I'd ordered pizza when my smiling wife came into the bedroom, excitedly shaking a bag of clothes.

"Hola, mi amor! How did it go? Where's my uncle?"

She had changed into some yoga pants and a different tank top, white too, but with very small straps. I didn't know women's clothing but it looked like something they'd wear in summer, not in a poorly heated house in deep winter. The furnace was taking it's sweet time.

"Hi... It was fine, he actually left with someone else so, I have no idea. I thought he'd be here." I shrugged.

"What!? With who?" she said, confused as I was when I saw it.

Let it go, I said to myself.

I had just masturbated to a naughty scene of my wife--her gorgeous meaty latin ass and thighs starred--so, naturally I came really hard. I was swimming in a tiny pool of orgasmic bliss from where my problems seemed even smaller. "I don't know. He got into a van and left," I said.

Milena was outraged. "Wha-- That's unbelievable! That is just..."

"I know. I was like, 'seriously?' " I said, more interested in the bag on her hand. "What's that?"

Her face lit up instantly. "Oh yes! Look look look," she said, giggling like a child on a snowy school day as she skipped closer. "I got a huuge pack of clothes this time. The only thing we can't share are bras 'cuz she's a 'B' and, well, panties because I'm bigger there too-- I got a lot of other pieces! Look, honey, isn't it beautiful?" her eyes sparked at the tiny red blouse she was holding.

"Yeah, yeah it's, umm..." I scratched my chin, unsure of how to continue.

"And there is a lot of other stuff too," she said with a playful tone, suggestively raising her eyebrow at a small pile of lingerie at the bottom.

"You don't need new clothes, right honey? This is all just for fun, right?" I never understood my wife's passion for swapping clothes with other girls.

She chuckled softly and said, "Yes, yes, don't worry. I have everything I need with you," giving me a peck on the lips. We both heard her belly grumble for attention. "Oww! Jesus, I'm starving."

"Already ordered some pizza." I said, distracted my phone.

"Nice," she stared past me and said, "did you uh...?"

I had thrown the paper towel in the bin after my deed.

"Yeah." I said, uncomfortable."I've been really aroused since last night. With the thing with your uncle and the sex...and then today again with the kiss...it's been too much."

"Oh." I saw her eyes flicker, reliving the moments. "You mean when I showed him my tits?" she smirked. "You mean when I let him suck my nipples in the kitchen last night? Or when he explored my mouth with his tongue for a whole minute in the sidewalk this morning?"

She was blushing. Her demeanor oozed a dense lusty mist.

Maybe Milena was too naive or obstinate to connect the dots, but this definitively turned her on too, and faster that I've never seen before. There was no way to blame this on that time of the month.

She crawled on top of me and kissed my lips, putting my hands over her breasts. They felt wonderful as ever, bare under her sister's tank top thing. The shirt was maybe one size too small, for its cleavage was obscene.

"For a whole minute?" I repeated in coarse whisper between kisses.

"Mm-hmm," she purred, slowly nodding. "Maybe more." I grabbed as much of her leggings and squeezed hard while our tongues met.

"God...Milena." I moaned as I envisioned their incestuous kissing.

She smiled and started to rub my cock over my jeans. I wished I'd changed into my shorts.

"You know, I was going to talk to him in private, later. About what happened today." She ran her fingers through my arm. "Maybe he would like to see them again to make up," she whispered, cupping her bulging tits. "To lick them and touch them. Maybe he'd like to see more... Would you like that?"

"Ooh my God," I moaned.

I was on the verge of trembling by mere words. Her long dark hair grazed my hands on her ass. She nibbled on my earlobe and kissed my neck as pause to her teasing.

Milena took my hand and placed it over her mound. "Maybe he would like to touch me down here, should I let him?"

"Oh...yes..." I said. She could have asked me for anything at that moment. I'd lost control. I wouldn't have said no.

"Yeah?" she moaned, unzipping my cock.

"Yeah."

"You want my uncle to put his...fingers inside me?"

"Fuck! Yess." My head was starting to spin, I had to remember to breathe. She was holding my gaze as she stroke me slowly but intently.