Uncle's Sweet Wife

I drove into her cunt with determination. She squealed her pleasure at every stroke. I was holding her legs up by the crook of my arm under her knees so that her pussy was wide open, available to my depredations. She moaned lustily from a violent hunger. I thought my uncle was a fool for neglecting such a sweet woman. Why had he even bothered to remarry?

You see, my uncle and I had been friends since I was in High school. I cannot tell you what had brought us together despite our disparity in age. Many people commented that we are very much alike in behavior, if not in looks. Surely that can only be genetic! My mother and he are siblings, she being the eldest in the family. Strangely, the first time my uncle and I would have spent a day together was actually a disaster.

He had told me that on a Saturday we would go to watch Formula One racing at Langalanga track near Nakuru. That whole week I was in a lather of excitement. On Friday night, I went to bed early, wanting to rest and refresh myself. But I was awake in the middle of the night. It must have been midnight since I lay awake and tossing for a very long time before I started hearing the cock crowing from three in the morning. Finally, dawn did come and I woke everyone up with the noise I made in my clumsiness. I was to meet my uncle at the junction of the highway with the road towards his home, about two and a half kilometres from my home. The time? Seven.

When I checked the wall clock in the sitting room it was 6:10. My sister had been ordered by my mother to wake up and prepare water for my bath and some breakfast. The sweet girl had my breakfast on the table by the time I came from taking my bath. I dressed in my only pair of trousers, a shirt, and pulled on a pullover; I had heard that the Nakuru area could be cold. Quickly I swallowed my breakfast and set out. I ran all the way despite that buses were passing me; but I had no money to pay the fare. There was a very straight stretch of more than half a kilometre after I rounded the last corner. I estimated I had taken a little over fifteen minutes to get there. It would hardly take more than five more and I could actually see my uncle's grey car parked at the side of the road near the primary school gate. I kept my speed up, the car getting larger and larger as I got nearer. My lungs were working furiously although I was not panting too heavily. My teenage body was in good condition.

I saw myself in my uncle's car on the long journey to Langalanga. It would be the longest journey of my entire life. I felt grateful that my uncle had chosen to go with me, and I hoped my cousins would be there as well. Lately though we had heard that he and his wife were not on the best of terms and this trip might just be his way of spending the Saturday away from home. The distance kept closing and just as I thought I could stop running to give my lungs some rest so that I would not be panting hard when I got into the car, I heard the starter. What? Would he leave me behind when I was within shouting distance? Incredibly I next heard the gear being engaged. My uncle would really leave me behind? I increased my speed to my utmost for the remaining few metres but I could not believe my eyes when the car lurched forward, swung into the road and started off without me.

"Uncle, I am here! Wait for me," continuing to run after the car. I am sure he could hear me. Surely he could see me in his driving mirror! But why did he lie to me that he would take me and then leave me behind after all the running I had done? Moreover, he was all alone in the car as I could now see. The car picked up speed and I could not keep up. I watched as it grew smaller in the distance and finally disappeared round the bend. My steps slowed and faltered. I bent over holding my knees, unaware of my surroundings until a bus hooted at me. I had not realized I was on the tarmac! My body broke into racking sobs. Huge, heavy tears fell from my eyes into the red dust at my feet. I had to drag myself back to reality and prevent myself crying out loud like a girl. What if someone saw me crying? Horror!

I continued walking toward the shopping centre, but without any definite aim. Thoughts were tumbling over one another in my head. What would I tell my mother, or my siblings if I returned without having gone to Langalanga? Would they not laugh at me until kingdom come? What about my classmates on Monday, if I do not have stories of my trip to Nakuru, which I had trumpeted about for a week? Then I thought, 'It was not really my fault that I did not go. I did wake up early. I did run all the two and a half kilometres. I did see my uncle in his car. No, I do not know why, but it was not I who failed.'

Abruptly I turned round and headed for home. My mother, on hearing my story was consumed with indignation against her younger brother. Why should he punish her son like that? Does he think he is the first one to own a car? She ranted and raved for fully an hour until I almost started to feel sorry for the absent uncle. But the pain of my lungs as I finally gave up chase was still fresh in my memory.

Of course my siblings made fun of my failure to go one better than they. As did my classmates on Monday. Each taunt reawakened my pain of that Saturday morning.

My mother must have upbraided my uncle about the Langalanga incident, that he had chosen to enjoy it alone. My sister heard them speaking heatedly to each other when my uncle had come to visit; I was in school. He said that I was late to arrive at the rendezvous and he had actually seen me. He heard my voice calling out. But the fact was that at the agreed time I was not in the car. My mother grumbled at such impatience and asked him if he thought he was a white man. When that story reached my ears, instead of being annoyed I resolved never to be late for anything else in my life, even in school. The other boys did not know the reason behind my compulsiveness to keep time so that I always arrived a few minutes before.

I heard my uncle praise my aunt, the wife of his younger brother. He said that she was the only person with whom he could have a successful rendezvous because she had respect for time. She would arrive earlier than the agreed time. I wondered how she could do that, with five small children to look after, a plot of land to farm, besides her job as a teacher. Surely those duties would delay her so that she would not be punctual? But I heard reports that she was always, ever on time, wherever, anywhere. She thus became my inspiration to win my uncle's approval like she had. If she could do it with so many pressing matters, I told myself firmly, so could I.

It is probably this practice that brought my uncle and I closer so that in later years even after I married we worked together on many projects, principally involving the purchase of land in Masai country and buying shares on land buying and real estate concerns. These joint ownerships cemented the bonds between a man and the son of his sister. In fact when his marriage had began to unravel he would refer to those difficulties obliquely. I even learnt of the final denouement although not by any direct reference by him.

Two years later, I heard that he was wooing the daughter of Felix, the local thatcher who had trained himself to roof in corrugated iron. He had a huge tract of land, which made him one of the wealthier members of the society, as then composed. Rebecca had been in my class in primary school. With her plump looks, full cheeks and rounded forehead she had been good-looking and I had liked her. She, too, referred to me as her 'friend' in our childhood. Of course we knew nothing of love or sex, or marriage. So now I could see that she was about to become involved in our family in a big way. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered whether what I had felt in my very early days was in some way connected with my friend and my uncle falling in love with Rebecca. It was uncanny.

Because his ex-wife was still living the church became stubborn about a wedding and baptism of their children when they came. I had pulled back from visiting my uncle at home when he had had marital difficulties and after she left, but now with my childhood friend there, I found myself much more at ease when I visited. She too seemed to be happy to see me. She would serve me a meal, which I would feel was too big for me. She would take it away only to return with a larger plate. It seemed to me that she wanted the serving to seem that she had reduced it because it occupied less plate space, but she had in fact done no such thing.

I began to see why the older woman had found it hard to live with Uncle. He was so stern and authoritarian that he would not hold back from rebuking Rebecca in my presence. Sometimes I would see signs of her hurt as she withdrew. He wanted to control everything down to how food was made, even though he was quite a wealthy man, having been a district officer in his younger days, and was now a senior officer at the Central Bank. It was whispered in the family that he had his own private bathroom, to which his wife was admitted only to clean. True, she was not sunnily happy in her marriage, but grew more rotund with each passing year. I thought to myself that her pride was not as fierce as my uncle's first wife, and therefore she might stay the course.

Rebecca seemed to have some inner knowledge that I understood her plight, for she always smiled at me with greater warmth if my uncle was not in the room. She seemed to be in dread of him. I fell to wondering how their bedroom affairs were. Normally I would have thrust such thoughts far from me, as it would be improper for me to think of my parents' generation in sexual terms. But the involvement of my own agemate in the equation made it simpler, I thought.

One evening we arrived at my uncle's after a long trip to Kajiado to see some land we were interested in. I had left my car there, and intended to carry on home when we arrived. But on arrival we were informed that grandmother, my mother's and uncle's mother had been rushed to the hospital in critical condition. So instead of getting into the house we rushed there to see her. The hospital authorities would not try to keep uncle from going in, such a fierce persona he would wear at such an occasion. My grandmother was not well at all. On return to uncle's house to pick my car, we were both so tired that he suggested to his wife to prepare a bath for me and let me sleep in the guest bedroom. I was so worn out that I had no strength to refuse the offer.

That was the first time ever I was with Rebecca in the same room for any length of time without my uncle being expected. So we took advantage of a good night hug as she left. Without my intending it, we lingered in that embrace. When we broke it I looked into her face and found that though she wished we could have continued, she was deathly afraid of her husband. She was a little breathless when she left. I could tell you in colourful language of the fantasies I entertained of my former schoolmate that night. I even shot off more than one load in those sheets, knowing that she would see them when undoing the bed the following morning. That thought gave me further pleasure.

My grandmother died that night. Those who went to hospital were told that she had expired at about 5 am. The preparation of the burial was conducted at Uncle's house where I became fairly regular in the evenings and sometimes during the day as we worked to organize the funeral. Having been a choir member in her day, and active in the Woman's Guild, the church consented to do a service for her in the church and also the burial later on my uncle's land. I saw Rebecca every day during that week. We snatched hugs and embraces whenever we could, especially when Uncle was away. I enjoyed holding her full figure, though I could not prolong these stolen moments due to the heavy presence of people in the house at all hours.

Nevertheless my friendship with my uncle's sweet wife grew enormously during this week until I could take her number and talk to her by sms, and sometimes by calling her.

"Thank you so much for your support during our mother's demise, Pete," she texted me a few days after the funeral.

"I had a good time in your house during those days, thanks to you," I wrote back, while chuckling to myself that she said 'mother' while to me it was my grandmother, agemates though Rebecca and I were.

It got into my uncle's head to try a trick or two about that land deal in Kajiado. He went off one day by himself without my knowledge. It was Rebecca who told me in the evening that he was gone for two days.

"Where?" I asked with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"He said he was going back to Kajiado."

"But we started that together! Why did he go alone?"

"Do you want to come over and we can examine the issue?"

Like hell I did! Within twenty minutes I was at the gate, being ushered in by the watchman. As soon as I got in the door we were in each other's arms. I went as far as kissing her for the very first time. I lingered over that so-full figure I had started appreciating in my schooldays.

"Oh, how I have missed that!" cooed Rebecca. "Your uncle hardly has time for the tender bits of marriage. For him its always about his property and how to secure it."

I fondled her back as I replied, "He can be hard. I wish I could tell you of my experiences with him, and his impatience. Time is more than money to him."

"Oooh, don't stop, Pete! Thank you for coming."

She served me a delicious tea with various types of biscuits and a slice of cake. Actually she did not have much information about whom my uncle had gone to see, so after a while we decided to drop the matter until he came back and we had more information.

"You are not leaving me alone tonight after lighting my fires like that, are you?"

I pulled her to my body and even to me it sounded a callous deed, for I too was afire. It seemed as if we had known and loved each other all our lives, but had been prevented from getting to each other. Those pent-up feelings exploded in my uncle's sitting room such that we soon saw ourselves half naked on the armchair going at each other like teenagers. I suppose our love could be said never to have advanced beyond that stage. I pulled my aunt's clothes from her bit by bit, expecting each moment that she would find it inappropriate and stop me. But she was also clawing at my clothing, so we descended that slippery slope together. Pretty soon I had her breast in my palm, squeezing the nipple between the base of the thumb and forefinger. My tongue was exploring her mouth hungrily, meeting equal ardour from her own.

I fondled her abundant tummy enjoying all those folds. The other hand was behind her head holding her steady for the kissing match. I parted her legs to fondle her thick thighs. I found her cunt, meaty and full, with short-cropped hair. Her first protest came then.

"How daring of you to touch your uncle's goods!"

"Correction: my schoolmate!" I shot back.

"Take me to your room now," she said. We gathered our scattered garments and headed off to the guest room I had spent a night in lately. I pushed her gently onto her back and delivered my mouth and lips to her lips. Another mild protest: "What do you expect to find there?"

"It is more what I will give you, sweetest!" I countered. I munched her big lips, inveigling my tongue into her slit.

"Aaaah, you wicked boy," she wailed while her hand on the back of my head supported my actions. I pulled one outer lip between my lips and lashed it with my tongue. I switched to the opposite lip, while struggling not to be dislodged by her by-now vigorous movements. I descended all the way to her asshole, threatening to lick her there and feeling a slight movement as if she really thought I might. Up the valley I travelled until I came to her very full clitoris. She jumped violently, almost throwing me off, but I held on valiantly. I licked it with purpose causing a loud wail to issue from her mouth. When I pulled it into my mouth, she flew off into pieces, legs thrashing wildly. My lips and mouth felt her juices flood her cunt, which I made effort to drink up. She was not really a squirter but she still came copiously. I lashed her clean while I felt her subside a little.

"Give me that cock now!" she said in a stiff voice. I rose to my aunt's challenge and brought the head of my cock right to her entrance. She was fidgeting in eager want so I thrust into her well lubricated channel. It took but two strokes to penetrate my uncle's wife to the hilt. I then reversed out until only the head was left inside. I thrust my full length back in. She tried to wrap her thick thighs around me and could not quite make it. I gave her thrust after thrust keeping to a constant rhythm. "Oooh, my gawd!" she wailed.

I do not think I had given her very many strokes before I felt her stiffen and groan in deep voice. I knew she had come again. I confirmed this when I felt copious juices in her channel. "Ohhhh, thank you, so much, Pete!" as she held me tight.

You may think that the birds had come home to roost, now that I had put the horns on the man who had humiliated me those many years ago by leaving me behind.

I might even be prepared to understand your point of view.