Uncle's Visit Ch. 01

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. It involves elements of incest, alcohol, and questionable consent. All characters are at the legal age of 18 or older.

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"It's the least you can do for him, Elizabeth."

Having to listen to those words was the final straw. I hung up the phone call. That was after I had listened to my mother for nearly an hour with barely a chance to say anything myself. A bitter and frustrated sigh left my lips.

And so, after taking another deep breath, I crawled back into the softness of my bed and grabbed the blanket to comfort myself. I was lucky that I no longer lived at home. So whenever my mother attempted to force her will on me, it was just a matter of putting the phone away.

She had told me about how my uncle was going through a divorce -- yet another divorce -- and needed a place to stay at. It was his own fault for getting into bad marriages. After the first one didn't have a happy ending, he should have just taken some time to figure out why -- and then go from there. It seemed so silly to me for a person to rush from one relationship into another. He should know better -- he was twice my age after all. There should be some wisdom in those years, right?

Since he was my mother's brother, he used to visit us at home pretty regularly. He had always been a welcome part of the family. However, almost every time he visited us, he brought a different girl along. Sometimes he would introduce her as girlfriend, sometimes it would be a fiancé. I can only take a wild guess at why a guy would enjoy changing his partner more often than most people change their bedsheets.

For some weird reason, my mother suggested that he could temporarily move in with me, into the apartment I was renting. Just because he was a man, and in her words, would be able to keep me safe. And, in return, he would have a roof over his head until he could sort himself out with a new place to stay at.

I dreaded the thought.

A knock on my bedroom door startled me, and brought me back to reality.

"Elsa, are you in there?" It was the familiar soft voice of my dearest friend.

The door opened and Lauren peeked inside. She was my best friend, without a doubt. She was also the person I shared the cost of the rent with, since we were lucky enough to be accepted into the same college together and sharing an apartment simply made sense. Calling her a childhood friend would be an understatement, we grew up together, and she often remarked about how I was closer to her than some of her own siblings.

"I told you not to call me that," I replied with a frown, but raised part of the blanket as invitation for her to join me.

"Elsa, do you want to build a snowman?" Lauren replied with a rapidly growing smirk. Nonetheless she couldn't resist the offer, and joined me underneath the cozy blanket. She snuggled up against me. Strands of her long hair waved into my face, and I barely managed to suppress a sneeze.

"It's summer. There's no snow," I responded matter-of-factly instead of playing along with her joke. She loved teasing people with movie quotes. "I just finished the call with mom. She's nuts, she wants my uncle to stay with us for a few days so he can sort out his divorce."

"So?" Lauren gave me a quizzical gaze. "If he needs help, I don't mind if he stays here! The more, the merrier. Right? Besides, family always comes first," she explained. It was understandable that she thought that way. She had two brothers, and a dozen or so cousins. Her family gatherings were huge. I would often come along for those, and the atmosphere was always so energetic and positive. Naturally I envied her, since her entire family was such a happy bunch.

"I don't know... it could be weird. What if one of us brings a guy home? It would be strange." It didn't matter how much I thought about it, there was no benefit to playing along with my mother's request.

"Elsie, relax. If you were to bring someone home with us, I'd pop a bottle of champagne. It's long overdue that you get over your last boyfriend. Besides, we could use an extra set of hands!" She tilted her head and pointed into the direction of a stack of old laundry in the corner of my room.

"We don't need a special reason just to help someone anyway. But, even so, he clearly can make himself useful while he's here. The washing machine made weird noises recently, too, so maybe he could fix that as well when he's here. Give him a chance." She reached under the blanket and playfully pinched my side. "Guys can be useful."

"Fhh...fine," I muttered back at her.

"Now go get dressed. I promised my friend that we would come to her bachelorette party. There's going to be cake! Everybody likes cake, right? Come on." She climbed back out of the bed, with a firm hold on the blanket which she quickly pulled away from me and out of my reach.

"All right, fine," I replied, and she left the room. Just in case there were going to be any cute guys at the party, I also made sure to clean up where I could, which included the aforementioned laundry.

Getting dressed for a night out was always the most time consuming and annoying part. After examining myself in front of the mirror in a dozen different dresses, my choice fell on an elegant cocktail dress. The wine-colored fabric nicely accentuated my curves, and harmonized with my flowy curls of auburn hair that draped just past my shoulders. The freckles across my pale skin were in plain view, but according to my previous partners, freckles are hot.

After putting a finishing touch on my makeup, I was ready and we departed together to enjoy the party. It was hosted in the backyard of the bride-to-be. She was out of her mind with joy and it was a delight to watch her. Lauren and I had a good time with some of the guests too, though Lauren had a significantly easier time approaching everyone. She had always been the more extroverted type.

Since we mingled with the crowd, and most of the guests were college seniors, we didn't stick out too much when we had some drinks as well. We would sip our cocktails, chat about college, and then drink some more. It was nice. Mostly. At some point, I pulled Lauren aside and gave her a drunken rant at how stupid it was to marry before having a good and proper career like this silly bachelorette was planning to. The rant was full of passion and vigor. I even gave her a brief rundown of my ten-year-plan which outlined when I intended to buy a house and quit the job I didn't even have yet!

That was when Lauren decided it was time to get my drunken ass home.

It was already dark outside, but fortunately, one of the guests had volunteered to drive us home. The drunk college freshmen and their chauffeur. We laughed and giggled in the backseat, like a pair of hens, as we competed to see who could have the silliest humor. The jokes simply kept getting worse and I could only imagine our driver's relief when we arrived at our destination. The familiar sight of a three-story building in a nice part of the city. Our home.

We supported each other up the stairway, and fumbled with the keys for a moment before we made it back into our apartment. The lock clicked, and the door opened. We were immediately alerted by the sound of our TV. A deep voice greeted us from somewhere inside the apartment.

"Hello ladies." There was a moment of disbelief, and I tried to shake off my drunken stupor. It was a man's voice, no doubt. My mother was the only other person with a spare key to the apartment. Could it be a burglar? No, those usually don't announce their presence like that. "I hope you don't mind, I unpacked my things while you were gone." It suddenly hit me -- Uncle Matt. He had decided to invite himself, or perhaps my mother instructed him. Either way, he was here.

The apartment still wasn't lit, so all I could see was a shadowy figure approaching from the living room and flicking the light switch in the hallway. There he was, freshly illuminated. He hadn't changed much, though he did gain a bit of weight, perhaps due to being in his forties. Or maybe because of a newfound affinity for beer, judging by the beer he was holding.

"And who is this beautiful woman? I don't think we have met before," he said and approached Lauren. He gave her a warm hug, and I watched her chuckling despite her raised brow. She still wasn't sure who this stranger was. "I'm Matthew. Perhaps Elizabeth already mentioned me?"

"Eliza... oh, Elsie, of course. Yeah she's already mentioned that you may visit! Uncle Matt, yeah? You can stay as long as you need to, I absolutely don't mind. Elsie has no objection either," Lauren explained before lightly elbowing my side.

"Yeah. Sure." Arguing about it would be useless at this point. He turned to me and eyed me up and down for a brief moment.

"My, you've grown during these last few years. You know, if things had gone different with my first wife, I would now have a daughter who would be just your age. Crazy, huh? It's nice to see you doing your best, and to see how hard you're studying. You know, despite being a girl."

His final comment made me cringe, while Lauren merely laughed under the assumption that he was joking. I couldn't recall if he ever made a joke. His views on women were well known to me. The women he dated and married were usually uneducated ones, who were fine with archaic stereotypes, and with a simple life as housewife.

"You two look like you had some fun," he pointed out. Lauren's posture was a little shaky, and I noticed that I had been supporting myself with a hand against the doorframe during his introduction. "Don't worry, it can be our secret. Though, you should probably get some rest. We can continue this talk tomorrow, when you are both in a better shape and sober."

"That's true. I'm okay with that," Lauren chirped in agreement before she slowly made her way to the bathroom, presumably to prepare for bed.

"Where... how did you get the key? Did mom give it to you without... without our permission?" I asked him despite already having a hunch. His response was a nod, along with a shrug. It hadn't even occurred to him that someone may disagree. "I see... well, I'm going to bed too, good night."

"Sure, Elsie. Let me help you," he offered as he grabbed my arm and supported me.

"I don't need... help. And don't call me Elsie, only my close friends do that."

He ignored my words, and we slowly walked towards my room. It was dark inside, and even the hallway's light faded away when the door closed behind us. He lay me down on my bed and I uttered an exhausted sigh. I was so used to spending the entire day in front of the computer...being outside for an evening really drained my energy.

"But it's a nice nickname and I like it. Elsie. It's short and cute, just like you." I tensed up. There was this bad feeling again, like a knot in my belly. "Let me get you a glass of water," he offered, after which he left the room for a moment.

When he returned, I had already moved into an upright sitting position on the bed. It was easier to breathe, and the cold water soothed the dry back of my throat. Instead of leaving me however, my uncle joined me on the bed and moved in position behind me. My growing unease only got better again when his hands came to rest on my shoulders, and he gently massaged my tense muscles.

"Ohh..."

"That feels better, doesn't it?" He applied a bit more strength, and I could certainly feel the tension just melting away. His strong fingers were digging into my skin. It was a pleasant combination, the dull buzz of being intoxicated and the rapid dissolving of every cramp and ache.

"I guess... thanks." I closed my eyes and relished the sensation. Who would have thought that he was capable of this? Before long however, his fingers got a little more daring and pushed the soft fabric of the dress off my shoulders. "Hahh...hey," I gasped, but his hands already moved back in place on my shoulders, except they were now directly massaging my skin.

"Shh, this is better. Your dress was in the way." His words rang true, it did feel better without the thin barrier between us.

A brief knock on my bedroom door, was followed by Lauren poking her head in. My heart froze. The light from the hallway seeped into the room and I realized something I hadn't noticed before.

"I just wanted to say good nigh... oh!" She took in the sight and found herself at a loss for words.

The cocktail dress had slipped down and bunched up around my waist -- and my friend's perplexed expression reminded me of the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra. The cocktail dress was designed to be worn like that. I was just caught getting a massage, with my entire upper body being practically nude.

At least my uncle was still sitting behind me, and had no way of stealing a glance.

Lauren and I simply stared at each other for a long moment, in an attempt to read the situation. I was clearly feeling more awkward about it than she was, based on her relative composed posture. She seemed to be trying to figure out how much of this situation had been intentional.

"I uh..." With a far too delayed response, I finally moved a hand up to cover my breasts. "It's just a massage, he said I was tense. But thanks, and uh, and good night?"

"Okay...yeah! Just wake me up if you need anything, or if you feel bad," she added with squinted eyes, before she closed the door and departed to her own bedroom next to mine.

"We should stop, this is—"

"Don't worry," he interrupted my words. "Just relax. I don't care if you've got your breasts out. You're not the first woman I would see naked anyway." He paused and seemed to ponder for a moment. "If you're that concerned about being seen, just lie down on your belly. Here."

With that said, he guided me down and I used the opportunity to bury my face in the pillow. The brief embarrassment still took its toll on me. Lauren had seen me topless plenty of times, but not with a guy in the room -- certainly not my uncle. I would have to clear up any potential misunderstanding in the morning, when I was fully sober. I didn't want her to think something was going on between me and him.

Uncle Matt moved to sit on top of me, with most of his weight evenly distributed on his knees to the left and right. It gave me an uneasy feeling at first, but he continued massaging my shoulders as I lay there, face down.

It was going to be a relaxing end to the evening, or so I thought.

His hands lowered slightly, and he began to take care of the tension in my lower back. He was carefully kneading the muscles, but with enough pressure to keep me from simply falling asleep.

"Have you had any boyfriends?" he asked abruptly. I felt like I was floating on clouds, so my answer came almost automatically.

"Yeah, one." The drunken buzz from earlier still left me with a warm afterglow, it kept me calm and unguarded. Plus, his fingers were excellent at what they did.

"Mmm," he purred thoughtfully. "So you already had your cherry popped, that's a cryin' shame."

It took me a second or two before I fully comprehended what he said.

"Wah... what? That's really none of your business. Uncle Matt, you should probably go to sleep..." If I hadn't been in disbelief, I would have chosen a more angry tone, but this felt surreal.

"Soon, babygirl. You're not a virgin, so don't make this more complicated than it needs to be. Frankly, I didn't get laid in weeks and I think we can help each other out tonight, yeah?"

It rapidly dawned on me that this was more than a friendly massage. Like a fool, I had been naïve enough to believe that perhaps he had changed, or maybe that this was his way of saying thanks. His hand was still applying pressure to my back, there was no easy for me to roll around, or to turn and glare back at him.

"What, no... you really should leave. I'm not in the mood for that. Even if I were, I'd certainly not do it with you," I remarked back at him. My ex was the only person I ever had intercourse with, my first and my last. And while I certainly wanted to get back into the dating game, doing something like this was the last thing on my mind. "And don't call me babygirl, even Elsie would be better..."

"Well if you don't play along," he replied, "...then I'll just see if your roommate is interested. She seemed pretty smashed, too. Is she still a virgin?"

"No!" I practically hissed back at him. With a slightly more quiet voice, I repeated myself. "No, absolutely not. Leave her be." The walls between our rooms were thin, and I didn't want to wake her by accident. Lauren was a precious angel -- she never even had a boyfriend, but plenty of crushes -- she didn't deserve to get involved in a weird situation like this.

"Feisty reaction. So she must be a virgin, then. That's really fucking tempting," he mused. I could already feel him shifting around, as if he was preparing to leave.

"Don't! You can have me, fine..." I said, but the words almost made me choke. It was gross, we were related by blood. On top of that, he was even older than my own father. Yet even while my thoughts were trying to make sense of the situation, he reached under my bunched up cocktail dress. My uncle's fingers slid across my thigh and up to my crotch to grasp my underwear. He wasn't wasting time.

The next time he pulled his hand back out from underneath my dress, he was holding my crumbled pair of panties like a trophy. I turned my head slightly, and looked up at his shadowy silhouette in the dark room. Was this really happening? All the strength in my body had left me, from the massage or sheer intoxication, or exhaustion, I had no idea.

In that empty darkness, I became increasingly aware of my own heartbeat. A familiar beat, the steady thumping. It was the only comforting sensation about this.

The old bed springs squeaked lightly as he climbed off the bed, and I could soon hear him unbuckling his belt. His pants hit the ground shortly after, followed by what I presumed to be his underwear, right next to my bed.

It's like I was sedated. All fight had left me as soon as he so readily showed an interest in taking advantage of Lauren.

When he climbed back in bed however, I had the presence of mind to request one more thing before this went any further.

"A condom," I said weakly, barely audible to his ears. "You have to wear a condom," I repeated slightly louder. The thought that Lauren may have been able to hear me asking my own uncle to wear a condom, sent a shiver down my spine. Once again I found myself hoping she was deep asleep already.

"You're not on the pill?" His silhouette reached down to his pants to retrieve something, and I could hear an aluminum foil being ripped open. He seemed to be hesitating to put it on. It was hard to tell what answer he was hoping for; if I would admit that I wasn't on the pill, would he forego the condom or insist on one? I chose to tell the truth.

"I'm not on the pill. Use a condom," I said once more. In addition to avoiding any pregnancy risk, it also made me feel more comfortable with the act. There would be a thin latex barrier preventing our genitals from touching. In a sense, he wouldn't really be inside me. At least that's what I told myself.

His hands moved back down to the edge of my dress, and he pushed the stubborn fabric up, and up, until it bunched up around my waist. I could feel the cold night air on my vagina, and reached forward to grasp the pillow and bury my face further into it.

I could still remember my mother's words after I reached puberty. It was when my uncle first began making inappropriate remarks. "Boys will be boys," she would say. "Just ignore it, every woman has to deal with undesired affections."

"Don't fall asleep," came my uncle's words, followed by a sharp slap across my butt cheeks. I winced and barely suppressed a gasp. His hand lingered on my smooth skin, and then his other hand gently came down on the unharmed cheek. He tightened his grip and began to spread me open.