Quiminal Intent

If my father could see me now, with my tongue inside his brother's mouth, well, there would be trouble. Maybe not murder, but some serious damage. I didn't usually think about this, but did so today.

His hands were busy on my quim, I loved the way he varied things. Sometimes a big paw flat on my mound, just pressing, rotating, squashing my hairs down and applying force. Sometimes a probing finger, a rub, a flick, it was all good.

But that was at the outer edge of my consciousness, since I had his penis to play with.

I had moved down his body to pay it proper attention.

It was hard, poking straight up his belly. It was stiff enough you could pull it up a couple inches away from his belly and it would snap back with a smack onto that skin area between his groin and his navel.

Uncle has a lot of hair in his groin, real thick all around the root of his penis, and it holds his scent marvelous well.

I loved pushing my nose into his balls, around his groin thicket, inhaling, rubbing his soft curly hairs into my face.

I raised up a bit, rubbing his belly with one hand, and took just the head of his cock into my mouth.

The next five minutes, and it was not more than that, was all business.

I had missed his cock. I had missed his balls. His big body, his obvious pleasure in my own company, attention.

I did nothing out of the ordinary, just sucked him good.

He liked to play with my hair while I ran my lips up and down his erection. He fondled a nipple, ran an arousing hand through my quim-hair, whatever he could reach, but all my attention was on him, his growing excitement, his legs getting stiff, the sensation of his whole body building up tension, and then the glorious release.

He pushed hard into my mouth at the end, five good strong pulses of sperm I got, his hands tight on my shoulders while his hips bucked.

Afterward, we lay next to each other, arms around each other. It was nice and warm, both of us a bit sweaty from our exertions. I poked my nose into his armpit and inhaled. Good, strong, comforting Uncle Quim smell.

But I had tickled him, hadn't meant to, and he moved away. I looked down at his penis, all limp and lifeless on his right thigh.

Normally we are pretty quiet in our lovemaking, our sounds not words but just more primal noises. But for some reason we were talkative that afternoon.

I commented on the state of his penis, and of course always wondered what it was like for a guy after he had shot. I knew his nerve-endings could be hypersensitive after a climax, that could be true for me too, but I didn't know what it was like to have six inches of impossibly stiff excitement turn into two inches of a faded, wrung out dishrag of flesh.

So we started talking, and I was more comfortable talking about this stuff with Uncle Quim than any other lover I had ever had.

"It is sorta the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde business," he confessed. "You have a hard erection, and it is like Mr. Mildmannered has gone crazy, and will likely do anything, anything for its end-pleasure."

I nodded, I knew what he meant.

"Is it like that for girls?" he asked. "I don't think so. But tell me."

I said that there were certainly times when my lust was nearly overpowering, and I had certainly done things and acted in ways that I never would have in other circumstances, but that I didn't think I was capable of some of the really aggressive, almost predatory types of behavior I had seen with some guys when their penis was ruling them.

So we talked about rape a little, pretty much deciding it was in a different category of things, that it was more power and domination than real sex, and he doubted that a woman could ever rape a man.

While we were talking, his hands were wandering of course, and I had felt my nipples getting fondled and tweaked, the provoking course of fingers along the curves and creases of my breasts, along my flanks, almost but not quite tickling me.

This stage was always supreme, my arousal underway but just at a simmer, nothing serious yet.

I ran my fingers over his chest. I like a hairy chest, and Uncle had a nice one. There were little tufts that hovered around his tiny little nipples, which weren't erect at the moment, but got so when he was more aroused. He said he had never had a woman play with his nipples like I did.

My hand drifted down his body, plenty of hair on his belly, and of course his groin thicket was lush, if that is the right word. My crotch would often give a squeeze on first sight of his erection poking out from that tangle, like some heathen temple standing up from a tropical jungle.

But now his penis was limp, and I let my hand drift over its softness, feeling the damp hair around it. It would be half an hour or so before his penis would grow hard again, but even now it was fun to roll it around in my hands, stroke his balls, rustle his dark curly groin hairs.

This was one of the things Uncle Quim expressed a great fondness for -- body hair. This was the only area he was very demanding of me, oddly enough. Nothing else. He didn't want me to shave anywhere, although I had often done my legs before, usually for a wedding or some skirt or dress-wearing event I had to do.

But uncle had convinced me to stop shaving my armpits, which, with the corona and all, was easier to accommodate, since it didn't matter when you were home all day anyway. And my bush was fine too, I was pretty thick there, and it was only during the summer when I didn't want hair poking out from under a swimsuit that it mattered. Now it was an unruly triangle, rough around the edges. And Uncle adored it.

So I was happy enough to run my fingers along his own hairy body while we chatted about tangent issues, his work, family news. The last was always a bit odd, of course, since no one but us knew what was going on with the two of us. It was hard to hear about things when he mentioned his brother and called him by name, Daniel, since that was my father.

Just having this thought come into my head did something to me, though. I suddenly wanted my sexual simmer to go up a degree or two. My hand went back to his cock and balls tangle, and I flopped him around a little. Just a hint of stiffness began to appear, and I knew I had his attention since he stopped talking.

I waved his penis around a little, it couldn't stand on its own, but it was fun to look at it in different positions, roll it in my fingers. He was quiet while I played, and his own hand had crept down to my left nipple, which he started to tweak with his fingers. It felt good. That one was erect again, and then he made her twin follow suit. Perfect.

His other hand did its stealthy trip down my side, until he had a hand on my bush, rustling, pressing, grazing. Sweet, my arousal was more than a degree further along now, and I leaned over for a kiss.

A soft big tongue inside my mouth, our little tongue dance did magic with the rest of my body.

Since I knew where that tongue would be going next.

His penis was no longer completely limp, his cycle was starting up again, always a slower affair the second time, but not something I minded in the least. Our next half hour or maybe longer, would be languorous, savory, unhurried.

He detached from my lips and his mouth made its slow way down my body. A little nibble to my nipples, a nose nuzzle under my breasts produced a sigh from both of us. He always said there ought to be some word in English for the smell of an under-boob, that sweaty, sometimes sticky, scent he professed to love in me.

But I could tell he wasn't going to linger too long today, with his own arousal mounting, he wanted to get to my own pleasure too.

Down my torso, a kiss to my navel, his hands rustling all the time my mons-hair. I would be damp when he got to the serious parts, but not wet. But it would take very little once he got there.

His mouth did its ritual perambulation of my groin hair triangle, little kisses to all the uneven edges as he went around clockwise, like some Buddhist pilgrim performing a ritual around a temple or holy site.

A big paw pushed down on my mons, the pressure of great delight to me.

Then a slow finger, just the tip of his middle digit, to prob my level of excitement. It was damp but the first touch was like the first twist of a water valve, and my dampness grew from slight to serious.

The finger along my lips, up one side, down the other. My hips pushed back to meet him, and even without being able to see his face, I knew he was smiling.

We generally had a couple different ways to proceed here, and any of them was going to be fine with me. Sometimes he fingered me at length, and that was nice since he used his other hand to play with the rest of me, limited just by his position and what he could reach easily.

At times I would climax from that alone, kissing him, feeling his hands on my breasts or ass, it was nice almost no matter what.

Other times he went straight to my quim with his tongue, and usually that meant everything would go more quickly.

But today it was a combo, a nice one, when he was slow and went back and forth.

He pushed his face into my mons, inhaling, and just that pressure was sweet. A head down between my legs, his body splayed out below my waist.

The little tongue darts, he was in a teasing mode today, as he flicked his tongue here and there, barely caressing the inside of one of my lips, then the other.

The first time he pushed his tongue all the way inside I pushed back against him, maybe too hard, but I couldn't help myself. It's so different from a penis inside you, a tongue wet and squirmy, and more flexible and controlled.

But way too soon he had retreated back up my body for a kiss, my own smells on his breath. Hands fondling breasts, then a finger back down there, just the teasing touches that drove me crazy.

I had him shift a little so I could fondle his penis, which had grown hard again. Here's that "sex is complicated" business again. So often when I provoke some pleasure in someone else, my own arousal grows, and here was proof that this was so for Uncle Quim too.

I hadn't touched his penis in some time, but it had gotten hard just because he had been licking and teasing me. Or maybe because he had it pressed against the mattress while he played with me. I don't know, didn't matter. I had a nice hard, smooth penis in my own hand, and it felt nice to slide my fingers over it.

After a few good strokes he was back down at my confluence again, this time a little more active with his tongue. I spread my legs a bit for more access, and I felt his hands pulling my ass cheeks apart.

Back and forth he went, a few minutes of tongue-quim work, then up for a kiss and a breast fondle, while I played with his increasingly hard penis. Then back down again to an impossibly humid quim. My hips were pushing back into him as I got closer.

But still he didn't quite let me get there.

Back up again, he straddled my chest this time and pushed his penis at my face.

A penis at eye-level, up close, is one of the most beautiful sights in the world, especially if it is one that wants you.

He slid it along my face, up one cheek, into my hair, then down the other. Almost like he owned me.

Which he did, at least for now.

I took him in my mouth for a good suckle, that taut, smooth, warm skin poking around in my mouth. I cupped his balls, hairy, strong, firm in one hand. I ran a hand up past his balls, to that wonderful spot between ass and testicles he so loved. I rubbed, he pushed into me, we got a nice rhythm going.

But an abrupt withdrawal, maybe he was getting too close, and he was back down at my quim, licking serious now. He got me right to the edge, and again pulled away. This was driving me nuts.

Up for a kiss, he whispered in my ear.

"I wish to take thee from behind," he hissed. "At least to start."

This was not always my favorite, since I couldn't face him, and the way he pushed in from behind was so different from regular, but it was what he wanted, and I was dying to have him in me, however it happened.

I nodded and he flopped me over, pulling down a pillow to put underneath me to elevate my hips a little .

My head to the side, he got himself into position, ran his damp prick-head up and down my notch a couple times, and then pushed home.

That first penetration of the day is ever exciting. He went slow, until he was fully inside, and then laid his big hairy body on top of me.

We didn't move, I felt his breath in my ear, and just enjoyed the feeling of his penis within me. Still, warm, firm.

He snaked a hand down and sent a finger up and down my lips. I could no longer stay still, and I clenched around him, wiggled my hips, and we were off.

Slow in-and-out, then a pause, repeat. How many times had this action taken place in the history of the world? How did that thought intrude? I closed my eyes and just indulged the primitive.

At one point he raised himself off of me, held my hips in place. This part was not so pleasant, not so much that I knew he was going to go at me hard, but it meant his hand had vacated my quim, and I was only going to be feeling his penis thrusts.

The other part I wasn't crazy about, and this is gong to sound silly, is the slapping sound his hips made when he slammed into me. It reminded me of how wide and soft my ass was. But it was primitive as fuck and he enjoyed it.

He humped for a few minutes, I kept my eyes closed and just felt him.

Then suddenly a retreat, his penis pulled out, only to be replaced with his face up against my sex. Nose nearly in my ass, his tongue licking and doing crazy, wonderful things to my quim.

He got me right to the edge, just there, and flopped me over again.

The gleam in his eye was intense.

Again the penis was in me, he was not that careful now. Didn't matter. I came within a couple minutes, he had gotten me that close. With his body weight on top of me, his teeth fastened on my neck, I knew he was serious when this happened, I pushed and the first wave crashed over me.

I don't always climax by fucking, but did so today. It was good. So good that I was taken aback when he pulled out. What was this?

But his face was down again against my quim, he was going to do me for seconds before he re-impaled.

That was fine.

The second wave was longer and slower, a sweet wet messy squeeze from my thighs and quiet moans from my mouth made it clear to him that number two had arrived. I held his head, and murmured "quim, quim" over and over again.

Then he sidled up next to my head, pushed his penis in my mouth again, for a last lick I thought, and then he was back inside me again, on top.

Nothing careful about this one, he humped me serious, his big body pressing me down, hands that had grabbed my ass-cheeks hard and pulled them apart roughly.

He came fast, in a furious rush, that last major thrust then the diminishing, sperm-propelling ones, until his body was limp on top of me. Breathing hard. Sweaty we both were. It was perfect.

"Uncle Quim, I want this to be forever, just like this."

We napped the rest of the afternoon, pulling the covers up over us, dozing in our happy, humid, illicit way.