Consequences Ch. 01byGoldeniangel©
Author's Note: This is a reader request story... thank you seducreader for the ideas and I hope that you enjoy!
I grew up with my Grandma, because my parents passed away when I was a baby, so you'd think I would have gotten to know my Uncle Max pretty well, but the truth is I didn't see much of him until I was 19 and Grandma was in the hospital. Grandma never said anything outright bad about him, just things about how he wouldn't settle down with a woman, how he was wild, how he couldn't be trusted. I babysat his daughter sometimes, she was usually with him for part of the summer, and Grandma never minded having her come over.
That was mostly when I saw my Uncle Max, was when he was dropping off Gloria. Usually on his way out to a date with a different woman. Uncle Max is now forty four years old and he's a pretty good looking guy so I'm not surprised he managed to get so many dates. He's also incredibly charming. And Gloria is the sweetest little thing, so I never minded baby-sitting for her. But sometimes I wondered what the women that he was dating were like.
At first, when Grandma had to go into the hospital, we thought she'd be out pretty quickly and Uncle Max only came to visit her for a weekend and he stayed in a hotel. Then it became obvious that she was going to have to go to a longer-term care facility, a hospice. That would have been okay except that Grandma didn't think it was appropriate for me to be by myself in the house, even though I'm nineteen and completely capable of taking care of myself. She seems to have some old world issues about women not being left alone, or maybe she just thought that since I'm in college I'd have lots of raucous parties and burn the house down. I'm not sure, but it made me mad. I've always been responsible and never gotten in any trouble. But Uncle Max came to stay with me anyway and I was under strict orders from Grandma to behave myself.
"Hey Uncle Max," I said as I trotted through the kitchen, grabbing an apple on my way out the door for class.
"Jenny, where are you going?" he asked.
"Class," I said. He'd just moved in a week ago and we hadn't quite gotten used to each other's rhythms yet, and now I was changing them because Labor Day weekend was over and school was starting.
"Absolutely not, sit down and eat some breakfast."
"I have an apple, I'll be late if I sit down."
He glared at me. "Then you should have gotten up earlier to make sure that you eat. An apple is not enough. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Sit down, I've already got some eggs ready, you'll just have to eat quickly."
This, coming from the man my grandmother called wild. I rolled my eyes. So far I'd been finding my Uncle Max to be much stricter with me than my grandmother had ever been. There was just something very commanding about him and when he gave me an out and out order and looked at me with those dark blue eyes of his, I found myself moving to do what he told me to. Even if I thought it was absurd and resented the hell out of him for it. So I sat at the table, silently fuming over his high handed ways.
Of course, he'd found threatening to tell Grandma that I wasn't behaving to be a pretty good way of keeping me in line. He'd done it often enough over the past week that I'd learned not to push him too far. I wouldn't want my Grandmother to be disappointed in me - even if the situation is ridiculous. I'm nineteen, not nine.
He dumped scrambled eggs onto a plate in front of me and I immediately began shoveling them into my mouth. I practically inhaled them, worrying about being late for the first day of classes. Sure, community college isn't a big deal to some people, but I've always gotten good grades - straight A's - and I wasn't about to stop now.
"Good girl," he said when I finished. I was surprised to feel a flush of happiness at the compliment. But I'd always been the good girl of the family and I liked being a good girl. I was just surprised that his opinion mattered to me. It's not like we really knew each other. Apparently I just want everyone to know what a good girl I am.
That night I was in the kitchen doing my homework at the kitchen table in my pajamas when Uncle Max came wandering in for a late snack.
"What are you doing?" he asked, with a fair amount of snap to his voice.
I looked up, too surprised to take offense at his tone of voice. "Homework."
"Isn't it a little early in the semester for that?" he asked, surprise now coloring his voice as well.
I shrugged. "I like to stay on top of things."
He just shook his head at me, making his shaggy blond hair wave.
"That's not what I was talking about anyway," he said. "What are you wearing?"
I looked down at my simple pink tank top and fuzzy purple pants with pink hearts on them.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"Why aren't you wearing a bra?"
I looked down at myself again and immediately hugged myself. Okay, so I hadn't noticed that my nipples were hard, because it was a little cool in the room and the tank top may have been a little low cut, but was he allowed to say things like that? Much less be looking at my chest? I was caught between mortification and anger, with the embarrassment side quickly winning.
"I'm wearing my pajamas," I said, blushing.
"Those look like the pajamas a little girl would wear. Gloria wears pajamas like those. Are you a little girl?" Now his voice had changed again, it was softer but somehow more threatening, and he was leaning against the kitchen table across from me. Even though his eyes were on my face and not my chest, and I was covering my breasts with my arms, I felt like he could see right through flesh and clothe to my hard nubs of nipples underneath. And it's not like I was cold anymore.
I wasn't completely inexperienced with guys, even if I was still a virgin, and I knew that something about this situation was arousing me. Which was just wrong. Sure, Uncle Max is kinda hot for an older guy, and wondering how he's wild always has fascinated me, but that doesn't mean I'm attracted to him, right? I hated the way he talked to me and I knew that I'm a good girl and that everyone thinks he's wild and bad. Having him call me a little girl was just infuriating. Maybe that's why my nipples were hard.
I tilted my chin up.
"No I'm not a little girl, but these are comfortable."
"You don't look comfortable now."
"You're making me uncomfortable," I snapped at him. He grinned at me and leaned back, a completely surprising reaction and I gaped at him. The last time I'd snapped at him he'd given me a long lecture on disrespect and having to be civil as we lived together. Now he was grinning?
"If you're so comfortable why are you hugging yourself?"
Well that was a good question. I glared at him defiantly for another minute or two and then slowly lowered my arms. My nipples were still hard. Uncle Max's gaze traveled down from my face to my chest, lingering over my breasts as my face got redder and redder.
"You don't look all that comfortable to me," he said finally, and then he turned around and walked out of the kitchen. I bent my head over my homework again wondering if it was just my imagination or if I'd actually seen an erection pressing against his jeans. Maybe it was just getting too late and I needed sleep. I finished the page I was working on and went to bed.
A few nights later I was in the kitchen doing homework again, because there wasn't a desk in my room although I was seriously considering getting one, this time wearing a loose t-shirt over my tank top, when I heard Uncle Max come home. With a woman. I couldn't help it, the sounds they were making - it was obvious that they were kissing. But there were also some banging noises and thuds... I snuck over to the kitchen doorway and peeked down the hall.
Uncle Max's room is upstairs, like mine, but apparently they were enjoying themselves right where they were. She was pretty hot with long blonde hair, probably in her late twenties, and wearing a sexy red dress and red lipstick. Maybe I'll look like that in ten years, I thought to myself. My uncle had her pressed up against the wall, his body practically pinning her against it and they were kissing passionately.
I watched, interested for a few minutes, and then I was about to get back to my homework because it really wasn't that interesting, when Uncle Max pulled his mouth away from hers.
"Put your hands over your head," he ordered her.
And she did.
Suddenly I found the scene intensely riveting. I couldn't look away. And under my two layers of shirts my nipples were getting hard again.
His hand reached into the cleavage of her shirt and she moaned.
"Do you like it when I pinch your nipple, you little slut?" he asked.
"Yes Sir," she said, sounding breathless and excited. Suddenly Uncle Max's control freak tendencies were showing themselves in a way that I'd never considered before, and to my horror I was finding it really hot.
She writhed and I saw the way her skirt was bunching up and realized that his other hand must be between her legs.
"You're so fucking wet, you whore," he said. Somehow there wasn't any contempt in his voice, even though he was calling her names. It sounded sexy. And she seemed to like it too.
Was this what Grandma had meant by Uncle Max being wild? It seemed insane that she might know about this side of him. Especially since she'd approved him living here with me. What the hell had she been thinking? Resentment swelled up inside me, but it didn't stop the arousal that was building there too.
I found my own hand reaching down into my pants, rubbing against my panties and they were soaked. I bit my lip against my own moan as I ran my fingers over my clit.
When he pulled his hand from between her legs and held them up in front of her lips, even down the hallway I could see they were glistening with juices.
"Clean them," he ordered and then he pushed them into her mouth. She sucked hard on them, tasting herself. I lifted my own fingers to my mouth and gave a tentative lick. Strange... musky... a hint of sweetness. A little bit like almonds and peaches really. As I watched her go to town on sucking his fingers, I started sucking on my own.
Suddenly he pulled away from her and I could see her shaking like a leaf. I knew the feeling. I wondered what it would be like to be her, pressed up against the wall like that and then suddenly to have your support taken away. Being ordered around by a domineering man like my Uncle Max. And then I realized what I was thinking and I snatched my hand away from my mouth.
"We're going upstairs," he told her.
"Yes Sir," she said. Were those the only words she knew?"
Oh Jesus. She dropped to the floor and turned, crawling towards the staircase, his eyes glued to her ass as she began the climb, still in the red dress.
I started to pull back into the kitchen and he must have seen the movement because he started to look my way and I almost fell wrenching myself back from the doorway fast enough. For a moment I stood absolutely still, my heart pounding. Had he seen me? Did he know I'd been watching? Would he care?
What orders might he give me?
When I heard his heavy footsteps following the woman up the stairs I realized I actually felt disappointed.
Completely shaken and disgusted with myself, I forced myself back to the kitchen table and to my homework. It was really, really hard to concentrate, even though I didn't hear anything more that night.