Milena - My Wife and her Uncle

"But I'll be naked then," she said, faking a pout and pulling the waistband at the front, to show me she wasn't wearing anything under it. "He's always had a thing for me. Maybe he'll want to do more to me, to my pussy." She ground her covered slit at the base of my shaft to the rhythm of her hand as she stroke the tip.

"Fucking hell," I grunted. "Then you come back here and I'll fuck you senseless while you tell me everything." I was close, I sensed it.

"Mmm-hmm, yes..."

I was saved by the bell on the main door.

A small part of me was thankful. I wasn't used to being putty in my wife's hands, and I was afraid of where would all this lead to; of what I would say. Although I could tell she wasn't much more in control herself. I heard the bell ring at the entrance a second time before I gathered the strength to let go of her. I left her to receive the pizza downstairs but not before putting all my intentions into my palm and slapped her ass.

I opened the front door and found the thin, pale young man holding the stack of pizzas, mildly shaking at the night's breeze. He looked fragile and tired, more so than usual. I don't know why, but I gave him a big tip and he thanked me with an indecisive nod.

I was closing the door when I noticed that Milena's uncle was outside, leaning against the open window of the same van he got into this afternoon, casually chatting with the driver. It looked like he had been there for a while before he said goodbye.

The van took off and the old man caught up with the delivery guy, tipping him again.

Even when he's nice he still manages to be a dick, I thought.

"How was your meeting?" I asked him sarcastically.

"Hello, uuh... Work very good, yes." He said, obviously ignorant that I spoke his language.

"Greeat..." I said, scanning his face for an expression, any hint at all; I wasn't sure if he was aware I knew what he had done to Milena. I expected arrogance but I thought I saw something more akin to remorse. Perhaps he was just self-conscious, constantly alert of my moves. I mean, I did want to punch him. "Come inside, there is pizza." I added, shaking the boxes.

"Thank you thank you." He said, grabbing one and rushing past me. Not once did he look me in the eye.

I didn't know if he respected me, felt guilty or was simply afraid. He was shorter than me but, even though he was fat he had more of a dad bod than he was morbidly obese, it looked to me that he could definitively take a punch. Whatever it was, I preferred this over a presumptuous smirk.

I saw him tiredly stride up the stairs and shut himself with the whole box into the guest room.

I'm not getting that box back.

I looked around and turned off the lights--seeing nobody down there with me--went up and opened the door to my room to find Valerie and Milena, excitedly chattering in Spanish. I felt like I was prying, so engaged as they were.

"Hi, brought pizzas." I said, not expecting her to be seating in bed almost completely covered in my sheets.

"Hi. Ay, que rico si." Valerie moaned. "Thank you, is tasty for me."

Now that she had relaxed and eaten properly, I met her true self for the first time. She was very different from Milena--she was also friendly and accessible--more expressive and forthcoming. Her voice was young, feminine and mellow, and something under her voice reminded me of the singing of a nightingale.

"De nada. Te gusta mucho?" I asked her. She stopped mid-way from grabbing a box and stared at me as if I had cussed in a church. "Yo puedo hablar espanol" I explained.

We laughed and from then on we continued on their mother's language, it was good practice and my wife looked proud and happy.

I learned of the lives of both Valerie and Milena. From funny stories and previous relationships to even local myths and urban legends. She talked a lot; it was like speaking to a perpetually nervous Milena. As straightforward as Valerie was, she told us about how she'd lost her virginity in an abandoned building among the rubble, back in Colombia.

'It was so romantic' she'd said sarcastically.

Really ironic, though, was that now I knew all the details about Valerie's first time, but not Milena's.

From what she'd said I got a glimpse of what this generation was dealing with. From that perspective our lives were paradise. It's so easy to forget how much you have looking for what you want. Life in Colombia was hard now. It had been years, but back then I was just visiting, and I could spend money as I saw fit. Even though the conversation was mostly cheerful and reminiscent, by the time Valerie left the room I was exasperated. I wanted to help her. It seemed unfair that such a beautiful girl with so much potential had to deal with so much shit just because she'd been born there.

"So, what do you think?" Milena said.

"Um... What? About what?"

"My sister."

"Oh! Oh she's nice yeah. Did you have fun talking to her? It's been years... " I said.

"Yeah, a lot of catching up to do," she answered absentmindedly. "Listen, remember that thing I wanted to talk to you about?"

Her phone vibrated with a text. She stared at it and reread it confused.

"What?" I asked cautiously. It was pretty late and texts after a certain hour rarely brought good news.

"Nothing. It's my sister. Just a favor I asked her earlier, let me check. Are you going to eat that?" she said, pointing at the pizza left. I said no and she took it with her outside, closing the door behind her, leaving me alone with my phone.

What did she want to talk about?

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

Thirty long minutes passed. I sent a text to my wife -- I did trust her to be honest, but more often than not she'd understate the weight of certain events, and that face earlier didn't exactly put my fears to rest. What was that thing that she wanted to discuss? I was anxious.

Somewhere under the covers her phone vibrated with my message, so I set out to find her. I had to know what was so serious. She'd made a big deal out of it.

I opened the door as quietly as humanly possible -- at night you could hear a pin drop in the kitchen from upstairs (although it didn't work the other way around). I heard noise as I tip toed to the next door and noticed a faint, blue flashing hue coming from downstairs. I silently turned off the light of the hall and stood at the top of the stairs, partially covered by the wall as I spied into the living room.

There they were; Milena and her uncle, cuddling in front of the TV.

My mind reeled with questions. Had they had the 'talk'? They'd obviously made up already. I had a burning sensation in my abdomen and my dick was swelling.

He sat straight into the back of the couch while she was nestled sideways into his chest, her delicate bare feet laying comfortably on the cushion. His right arm casually circled Milena over her shoulder but I couldn't see much more beyond his receding hairline.

I crouched for better view. The first thing I noticed was his right hand. The fucker had had it completely inside her tank top all this time, toying with her tit while staring at the screen.

I've had so many fantasies. So many. I never thought about how I'd feel. Anxiety, shock, and an ungodly amount of arousal. Pillow talk and fantasies were like child's play compared to actually watching it. It was so intense I'd lost my breath.

I couldn't understand their Spanish over the indistinct chatter on the movie, but I heard my wife make a comment and his response made them both burst in muted laughter. As their laughter died, he said something that made her nervously smile. He looked down and talked again, making two bowls of his hands to gesture how big her tits were. She unconsciously cupped her breasts and chuckled, looking down as if to check his perspective.

The old man pointed at her slim top, motioning down.

Her breathing paced up. She glanced at my direction and pulled the top of her shirt forward, giving him a peek of both tits. He leaned in exaggeratedly, cat-calling them by his tone, before she let go of the cotton-ish seam. It clung back to her chest, only now a little stretched and loose.

My dick was already in my hands, throbbing painfully and pulsing. I didn't even think about the blatant danger of jerking off in the hallway--Valerie's door was three steps back--but I wouldn't have cared. Being that hard, only her pussy would sate me, but I couldn't wait.

They exchanged a few words while he snuck his hands to pinch and graze her nipples through the thin cotton fabric. Milena laid her hands on his wrists with a scolding frown. After a couple seconds she took hold of his hands and let go, cuddling back to their movie.

I contemplated fetching my cellphone, to record the whole thing for later use. I saw them still engrossed in the screen and took the chance, tip toeing like a little kid, approaching the door at turtle speed. When I tried to open it the hinges squeaked.

Fuck, fuck.

A draft from the open balcony door usually put some negative pressure on the door, making it harder to open than it was to close. I checked on the guest room door for any sound and returned my position.

The dirty old man was standing, looking at his phone with his back to the TV, occasionally raising it to his ear as if listening to audio.

What's he doing?

His head sunk with his phone still to his ear, and nodded in trance. Milena was completely focused on him. He threw his phone into the couch and raised his hands, excitedly shaking them in victory with my wife standing up to share his exploding enthusiasm.

I heard him say in Spanish something like, 'I made it, we made it for fuck's sake', shouting a whisper, before he held and spun my wife around in glee. He let her down and gave her a peck on her smiling lips. She let him do it again, giggling, and again.

I glanced back and took my dick out again to resume.

The old, round man took a deep breath and sat down. I decided to take a couple steps down to see if I could listen to the conversation. Milena sat next to and facing him with her legs crossed under her frame. They talked a bit more, ignoring the TV before Milena set the volume down.

Nice, honey.

"Mile, I never thought I'd see this day," said the chubby old man. "I'm finally getting what I'm owed."

Milena smiled warmly at his satisfied grin. "It's amazing, Uncle. When do you start?"

"I'll be there tomorrow. I need a favor. You have to drive me, you see?" he looked at her sideways with his hands on the back of his head, easing comfortably into the couch.

"Sure."

"Good, good," he said, turning to face my wife. "Another thing, Mile." She looked at him attentively. "Tomorrow is the most important day of you uncle's life, get it? The most IMPORTANT of his life. Everything has to go my way, so I'll need all the luck in the world."

She innocently agreed with him.

He smiled at her body. His round hairy frame got closer.

"Yeah? You'll give your uncle a lot of luck?"

She tried to reply, "Of course--" before she gasped. He leaned and kissed her with an open mouth, easing his tongue between my wife's perfect lips. Milena moaned a protest with her hands to his chest while her cheek bulged with his swirling tongue. He assaulted her mouth for minutes, groping her tits under the small tank top...thing, barely letting her breathe, until there was no more complaining. When he broke the kiss, Milena moved away from him, panting and licking her lips clean of his saliva aided by her trembling fingers.

I don't remember what I thought in that moment. I remember feeling guilty... I remember I stood unnaturally still and that it was hard to breathe.

"Hmm...that was delicious, you taste so good," he groaned.

"Okay," Milena said, catching her breath, "you've had your...luck. You can't just kiss me like that. I'm married, okay? Things are just different now." Sentenced Milena, looking my way a couple times. I didn't think she could see me in the dark with the TV's glare.

"I know, I know." He sighed. "But it's such a special day, mi amor," he said. "Your Uncle is so happy. Can't you at least show him the twins again?"

She held his begging stare with an unreadable expression, constantly glancing at me. Her eyes fluttered as she hesitantly raised her shirt over her magnificent breasts; the dim light of the television made their sight so much more erotic. She put her hair behind her ear, holding the shirt in place as her uncle chuckled softly and groaned. He sat closer and brazenly touched, caressed and squeezed her sexy tits.

Lost in his molestation, his voice coarse said, "They're big. You've grown, little niece."

"It's my period. Ah!" she moaned softly as he pinched hard on one of her peaks.

"Blessed be the nature," he replied, burying his face into her mounds, licking her viciously and covering both of her teats. Her whole areolae glistened to the light in the dark room.

"Uncle... They're really sensiti-- Ah!" moaned my wife. She covered her mouth and checked for witnesses.

I was edging. I had to. That was the most blatantly erotic scene I'd ever seen and I wasn't going to cum until the end. I couldn't fathom why or how could she possibly enjoy having this done to her by an old dirty fat man like him (ignoring that they were related), but I assumed that the sexual tension had gotten to her -- I could count the amount of times we've had sex sans her cumming with my two hands.

It should have been that simple.

The old man, on the other hand, was living the best day of his life. He lapped at her lusciously pale tits in front of the dim white light in deep passion, eliciting the occasional moan and whimper from my reluctant wife. Compared to when he had started, she now had thrust her chest out and was gripping the cushion within an inch of its life, biting her lip through the sexual torment.

He let go of her body with a huge grin. "Alright, you've made your Uncle a happy uncle. Let's finish the movie. Important day tomorrow, right?"

She looked exhausted and disoriented. "Yeah, okay," she seemed to whisper. A good part of her tits were shiny with her uncle's spit. At his cue, she cuddled up to him without putting her shirt back on, instead holding it tight between her breasts.

It didn't take long for her uncle to set his pudgy paw back on her breast. He stroked and grazed her nipples very lightly with a wet thumb, pausing every thirty seconds or so to moisten his fingers and resume.

Even from this angle, I could tell Milena was having trouble controlling her respiration, trying to stand against the relentless stimulation. It went on for minutes. I saw her shift and squirm until all he did was open his fly, let out his cock, and a gentle push of my wife's head into his strange, veiny cock. It wasn't too large in any of its sizes, it was thick but not really round. It was wide. It was circumcised with a smallish head that didn't match the width of the shaft and the bulging veins gave it an angry or pained look. And it all slid between my wife's pure lips, coating her with precum.

Holy fucking fuck Milena.

She took only his tip the first time, as if judging its flavour, before she started to take him closer to the hilt, using her hand to stimulate what didn't fit into her mouth while he held her hair.

"Like that, Milena. That's how you should blow your Uncle's cock," he groaned, slapping her over her leggings. "You like your Uncle's cock?"

"Mmmphm," she nodded at his slap, probably just to please him.

"This is how your should wake your uncle in the mornings. See?" he said, slapping a little too hard. The sound made him turn his head to check if the coast was still clear.

"Hmm!" whimpered Milena. Her head kept bobbing enthusiastically when he reached into her pants to stroke her ass.

"You always had the best ass of them all, Milena. Has anyone ever tried it yet?" he asked, coating his middle finger with his spit before teasing and working its first phalanx into her hole.

"HMM! NO!" she said.

He kept on probing her asshole. "I figured. Good... It's very tight," he said. "My God... You're very good at this, do you practice a lot with your husband?"

Nope, I answered silently.

I grabbed my cock again, kneeling as comfortably as possible on the wooden floor, and jerked it violently to my wife's new skills which I hadn't had the pleasure to meet yet.

She paused to lick his shaft and caressed his balls, making him groan before returning for the final round. Her bare white back tensed as her Uncle pushed most of his finger into her rectum, making her groan; I'd never done that, so if with pleasure or pain, I didn't know. Her pedicured toes wiggled to the rhythm of his prying finger.

She took his cock out of her mouth and laid her forehead on his thigh while he fingered her ass. She grunted with each pump of his sausage thick finger -- from my point of view I wasn't sure if she was easing or meeting his thrust.

"Hmmm. Uncle...Uncle please," she whimpered. "I can't take it anymore."

It wasn't voiced like a complaint. Her green eyes were half open and her breathing was labored. To me it sounded like begging; she needed to be fucked, and I decided to save my load for her pussy.

He purposefully ignored her pleas. The old man lead her head back to his cock and marked an aggressive tempo, thrusting his cock upwards--nearing climax-- to match the speed of her assisted bobbing.

"Here it comes, putita. Yesss, here it comes. You're mine, Milena. You're my little slut. Here it coomes... Aaargh."

In that second my wife let go, frantically searching for something to cover his imminent climax. Not finding anything appropriate to soil, the first volley shot her hard and straight in the eye as he desperately jerked off. She immediately took his cock back into her mouth and he pushed her head deeper.

I watched with beating temples when his pacing slowed and flicked as he let rope after rope of his semen into her angelic mouth, cumming deep and down into my wife's reluctant throat. Her head heaved in reflex each time she gulped his load until he relaxed into the couch.

She meekly raised from his lap and slid to sit on the carpet floor in front of him, easing her back on the edge of the coffee table, eyes still closed, catching her breath and recovering from the experience. As her breathing normalized, she noticed her shirt on the floor and tried to use it to clean the semen out of her left eye, but he stopped her. She looked coy, staring at him as he gently grabbed her chin.

What is he doing now? I thought.

I didn't see them communicate but she apparently knew what he expected.

After a long pause, she looked down, blinking, embarrassed. Milena opened her mouth. He used two fingers to swipe the cum from her eye and delicately wiped it on her tongue. She cleaned his fingers off with her lips. Milena looked up to meet his gaze and ceremoniously swallowed before timidly avoiding his stare, again.

I had just watched her suck her uncle's cock in my living room, but this, this felt particularly wrong. There was something very wrong about it. It felt intensely personal, intimate, and I couldn't shake it off my mind. I had lived to see one of my darkest fantasies materialize. It would be branded into my brain and I would remember it until the day I died, but what I had just seen belonged to a different category, for better or for much, much worse. I was very aroused, but it threw me off. Now my cumming was more of a nuisance, an obstacle to a clear head. I needed to digest all this because it was simply too much for one day.

I raised from the floor, deeply disturbed and turned on out of my mind, and so did Milena, only too fast. She was evidently dizzy, and stumbled back into the couch, this time on top of the remote.