I had an unexpected connection with my boyfriend’s uncle [fM] [cheating] [anal]

I was hunched over the breakfast table, shoving not-warm-enough scrambled eggs into my mouth when Luke gave me a peck on the forehead. “You’re sure it’s ok?”

“Yes,” I rolled my eyes, “She’s your Nana, I get it.”

“We’ll be back soon, though,” Luke said.

“Luke,” I said, “Don’t rush back on my behalf. It’s seriously fine.”

His mom leaned into the kitchen. “Nana’s waiting, Luke. Your cousins are ready. It’s just you.”

“Don’t hurry the boy,” I heard Nana say from the foyer, “He’s young and in love. It’s a shame you don’t let him and Daniela stay in the same room.”

“Mom!” Luke’s dad protested, “He’s a good boy! They’re waiting for marriage.”

Luke’s Aunt Doreen leaned across the table and pinched his cheek. In an ironic way, of course. “Aren’t you a good little boy, Luke. Found Jesus and everything,” she teased. Uncle Peter sat next to her, sipping his coffee, grinning.

Luke blushed and shook his head.

“Go,” I urged, pushing him towards the door. “Your Nana sounds like a riot.”

Luke’s other aunt, Sharon — the one with all the kids — walked in, car keys in hand. “I can’t believe you guys ate all the butter. I need to run to the store, I’ll be back.”

Nelly, Luke’s younger sister, walked in wearing just her long pajama shirt and opened the fridge. She bent over, pulling something out, and Aunt Doreen swatted her butt with the newspaper. “Put some clothes on, what’re you doing?”

Luke waved me goodbye, and I waved back.

“Oooh, pink undies!” Derek hooted, running past Nelly. He was ten years old, one of Sharon’s kids.

“Aren’t you going with Nana?” his mom yelled while she gathered up the shopping bags. “Get going!”

“Sharon, wait,” Doreen hollered, “I’m coming with! Need some girl time.”

Aunt Sharon turned to me. “Daniela, you want in on this? Just us girls?”

“Uhh… no thanks,” I said, reaching for some toast, “Next time?”

“We’re out of ice, too?!” Luke’s dad exclaimed to nobody in particular.

“We’ll put it on our list,” Doreen said.

“Your loss,” Aunt Sharon said to me.

“No, I’ll get it,” Luke’s dad muttered, “Y’all don’t buy the right kind.”

Aunt Sharon turned and gave him a pissed off look. “You could tell us, you know.” She spun back around, exasperated. “Ugh, some things never change.”

And then, doors slammed, locks clicked, cars powered on and rolled away, and the room was suddenly silent.

Peaceful.

Tranquil.

Just being near Luke’s family was exhausting.

“Well they’re sure a noisy bunch.”

I jumped. I thought I was alone. But I turned and saw, it was just Uncle Peter, still sitting there, quiet and forgotten, drinking his coffee.

“Get this family all under one roof,” he continued, sighing, “And, well, it’s a madhouse.”

“You’re reading my mind,” I said, “But you must’ve figured it out. How to deal with it, I mean.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. By keeping my mouth shut, staying out of the way, and enduring until it’s over.”

He turned to look at me, his gaze focusing, like he was mentally dissecting me. Like… he was mentally undressing me.

I hunched my shoulders, hiding behind my arms. I had woken up late and almost missed breakfast, just throwing on a simple t-shirt before rushing down to scrape together whatever food was left.

“Kind of like you’re learning to do,” he continued. “So, you really going to marry Luke? Did I miss an engagement notice?”

“What?” I was taken aback.

“Luke’s dad said something about ‘waiting for marriage’ and all, so I figured…”

I made a quick, abortive sound, halfway towards a laugh. “That’s… no, we’re just dating. I mean, Luke’s a nice guy, you know. But marriage… like… well, I don’t know. I shouldn’t be telling you. I don’t even talk about this with Luke.”

“I think you’ll find that I can keep a secret,” Uncle Peter smirked.

I don’t know why the words came spilling out. Maybe I was finding kinship with Uncle Peter, a fellow outsider to Luke’s family. Maybe I’d been eager to say them to someone, anyone, and just hadn’t before had the opportunity.

“We’re having fun. But marriage? I feel too young to even be thinking about that. And Luke’s great, but, like, forever? You know?” I said, “Like, what’s he passionate about? He says there’s things he wants, but it feels like he’s just saying that to make his parents happy, or because he thinks I want him to say those things. I’m not sure that he really even cares about… well…”

“About you, you mean,” Peter finished my sentence. He’d set down his coffee and was leaning forward, paying real attention to me, actually listening to what I was saying, not ignoring me like everyone else did.

“Yeah, I guess,” I said, “I mean, yeah, exactly. I don’t know that he actually cares about me, or if I’m just his decoration. So… marriage? No.”

“Well, I mean, that’s the point of dating. You find the right partner, and don’t just marry the first person you meet,” Peter said, his grin growing wider, “But, no sex while dating? That’s a tough one to swallow. Were I in Luke’s shoes and had you on my arm, I don’t know that I’d be able to resist.”

I blushed.

“I mean,” Peter continued, “I certainly didn’t wait.”

My blush grew more intense, and I had to look away. “Well…” I said, voice small.

“Oh wait? What’s this? You’re not?” Peter laughed. “Now this is getting interesting!”

“Ok, you have to promise not to tell anyone.” Was I really going to say this? But he was being so open and honest, I felt like I could do the same.

His eyes sparkled, he knew he was going to hear something juicy. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“It’s not what you think. Luke really is waiting until marriage for some damn reason. Or at least he says. But what I’m going to say, you cannot tell him, ok? He cannot know.”

Peter nodded gravely.

“I had sex before. With my boyfriend at the time. Junior year.”

“Oh. I see. But not with Luke. Well… huh,” he said, rubbing his chin. “Tell me, did you like it?”

“Like… having sex?” My blush was burning and intense, and I wanted to look away, but I managed to pretend that I was mature, that I could handle this conversation.

“Yes,” he said, “Was sex something you enjoyed?”

“I mean…” I started. Did I like it? That guy and I had both been so inexperienced, so awkward. If I liked it, why was I ok with not having sex with Luke? “I wanted it at the time, right? But, we didn’t… we both still had a lot to learn. We weren’t adventurous. It was his first time, too, and all that. Looking back, you know, I think I’m supposed to feel like it was a mistake, but it wasn’t. I’m glad I did it, found out what the big deal was.”

“And you’re ok with abstinence while with Luke? You are sure?” Peter said.

“Yes. And him and I, it’s different, we’re… well, he’s waiting, but we’re not, like, doing… nothing, you know?” I said. It felt weirdly good to say all this aloud. The urge to share had been building up for so, so long. “Ok, so, like, I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but we watch porn together, you know, and get ideas, and then, with hands or whatever, we… like… Well, he says this is ok, not breaking his commitment.”

“And for you? Does this satisfy you?”

“It’s better than nothing,” I said, “And I’m happy because Luke’s happy. And the porn gives us so many ideas.”

“Hrmmm,” Peter said, looking thoughtful. “Porn’s not real, you know.”

I sighed. “I know,” I said, “But still, we talk about what we’re–”

“Talk doesn’t matter for shit,” Peter said, “Sex is the same as everything else. If you want to get better at it, the only way is to practice.”

On the word ‘practice,’ or maybe the way he said it, the glint in his eye as he enunciated its sounds, the way he made the first syllable rise up, building anticipation, only for the second syllable to release it, sliding into a sublime, soothing sybillance, something about it cast this conversation in a new light, shocked me with epiphany.

He was still Uncle Peter, but I was seeing him as if for the first time. His style — handsome, fit, well groomed — took on new meaning. He was always clean cut, but now I was seeing that cleanness in a sexual light, through a sexual lens. Some guys got sloppy and gross when they got older, but Peter was not that kind of guy. Rather, I realized he was closer to resembling the guys I’d seen fucking away in the porn.

And I was alone in the house with him.

The blush on my cheeks had never gone away. Instead, it had spread. I could feel it on my chest, between my legs.

Almost by reflex, I uncrossed my arms, arched my shoulders back, pushed my chest out, parted my lips.

“How do you know what to do?” I said, “How do you know what to… practice?”

Peter slid down the bench and right into my personal space, taking the spot next to me. His hand squeezed my knee as he looked into my eyes with a meaning I didn’t dare guess at, and I was breathing hard.

“Don’t worry about the advanced stuff,” he said, his hand tickling my bare thigh. “It’s worth it, putting in the time to master the basics.” His hand brushed my crotch, but just for an instant before sliding down my other leg. I shuddered. There’s no way he’d missed my heat, no way he didn’t know how turned on I was getting.

“The basics?” I said, complex responses slow to form.

His hand slid back to my crotch, and I spread my knees. “Yes,” he said, “Take, for instance, handjobs.” He was stroking my pussy through my shorts, rubbing it from top to bottom, gentle but powerful. His face was inches from mine, his aura intoxicating. I was getting so fucking wet.

“You implied they’re not real sex,” he said, his fingers coming up, slipping beneath my wasitband, rubbing me through my panties. “But there’s no part of our body where we’ve finer motor control than our fingers.” He pulled my panties to the side and slid his fingers through my pussy, exploring, probing, feeling my heat. I whimpered. “So, if done expertly,” he continued, “A handjob can be profoundly pleasurable.” Right as he said that, his fingers pushed up inside me. I gasped and writhed, collapsing into him.

He smiled and slid his thumb against my clit, pressing lightly as he moved it up, massaging and teasing the sensitive skin just above it.

“Oh, fuck,” I muttered.

“You seem like you’re in a bit of need,” he said, grinning as his hand teased my pussy.

I was panting, chest heaving, sucking in breaths quicker and quicker as his fingers directed pleasure in me, pushed me along, pulled back just before I couldn’t take it, then shoved back in, submerging me in the depths of ecstasy, holding me under until I screamed.

“As I work my fingers, I can feel your every twitch, know just how much pressure to apply, where to apply it.”

I saw him watching me closely, studying me as I succumbed to the pleasure he was imposing. I struggled, desperate to maintain my composure, but as hot bliss exploded in me, shot into every extremity, I cried out and collapsed onto the table.

“Although,” he said, “You’re reacting quicker, responding with more enthusiasm than I even expected.”

He kept stroking. It was so much more intense than I’d had before. What was he doing to me? My eyes watered, my jaw hung slack. I groaned and tensed again, my hips thrusting onto his hand.

When I calmed down, he slipped his fingers out from between my legs, and I felt my wet panties snap back into place.

“I’ve given you just a taste of what’s possible,” he said with the confidence that comes from knowing something was true.

I looked up at him in awe.

“Take off your shirt,” he instructed, “Get on your knees.”

Oh fuck, we weren’t done.

I did as he said, kneeling before him as he sat back down, his back leaning against the table in an easy, casual pose. His pants and shorts lay discarded on the floor, and his thick, long cock hung between his legs.

“I want to see you play with your tits,” he said, “Give me a show.”

I looked down at my chest, saw my heavy breasts hanging in my tight, white bra. I arched my back and looked him in the eye. “What? These?” I cupped them, pushing them up, squeezing them.

Then I grabbed my bra and pulled it off, up over my head still clasped, letting my tits bounce free. He grinned.

“You’re a sexy girl, Daniela,” he said, “It’s a shame you’re not allowed to express that sexuality more often.”

It gave me such a thrill to hear him call me ‘sexy.’ I pinched my nipples, squeezing and playing with my breasts, watching Peter watch me. Watching his dick stiffen. Was this really me?

“Touch me, Daniela.”

Each time he said my name, I felt a surge of warm delight. It validated what I was doing, how I was the one deserving his attention.

I pushed his knees apart and leaned forward, letting his dick swing against my tits. I slowly, deliberately reached out and took it into my hand. It was warm and pliable, but it started stiffening as I rubbed its head against my nipples.

“That is fantastic,” he encouraged, “You’re doing amazing.”

I had been nervous he wouldn’t like what I was doing, that I would be too inexperienced for him, but his encouragement, plus the appreciative look he was giving me, put my fears to rest. He moaned softly, his dick growing harder and harder as I stroked it, pulling on it. His balls were huge, and I rubbed my tits against them, warm skin against skin, smiling up at him.

“Yes…” he groaned.

Every time I’ve jerked Luke off, it’s always been while I was lying next to him, his dick at my hip. I’d never done it like this, sitting between his legs. So even though Peter didn’t ask, didn’t indicate anything at all, his hard cock was just there, inches from my mouth, and I felt a sudden need to suck on it. I’d seen it in porn, but had never done it before — I wanted to know how it worked, what Peter would think.

Maybe he knew I’d do it without being asked. But as I spread my lips and pushed his dick into my mouth, he looked surprised. Surprised a bit, but also pleased. His dick filled my mouth, my lips stretched around its girth, and I started licking, running my tongue over it.

“Daniela,” he said, “You’re making me feel like a lucky man.”

He sat back and let me lick for a minute, but I guess it wasn’t good enough, that I wasn’t doing it right. He grabbed my ponytail and pulled me up, off his dick. But just when it was about to pop out of my mouth, he shoved me back down. He did it again, then again, and it became a rhythm, then it became rougher, and forceful, and I was loving that he was so into it, that I was making him so horny.

He yanked my head up and we locked gazes. Tears had run down my cheeks, drool down my chin, and I was panting hard, catching my breath.

“What’s wrong?” I said, “Why did you stop?”

“Such a sweet girl,” he said, grinning.

He shoved me back down, shoving his swollen red cock back into my mouth, fucking my face, making me gag. He pushed me down until I was choking on his dick, and held me there.

“I could finish like this,” he said.

“Mmmmm,” I said, eager for his cum, to find out what it tasted like.

“But your pussy seemed so desperate,” he continued, “I think you’d rather feel me inside of you.”

Oh fuck yes. I was so fucking wet, I missed the feeling of cock inside it. And Peter’s dick? Shoving up inside me? The idea sent my mind reeling. “Mmmmm hmmm mmmm,” I nodded, or tried to at least.

“That’s my girl,” he said, pulling my head back off his dick.

I was gasping, sucking in deep breaths as he stood me up and pulled down my shorts and panties. My pussy was swollen, glistening wet, dripping with fluid. He reached up, ran his fingers through it, brought them to my mouth. I automatically spread my lips, licked them clean, tasting myself. It was fucked up, but right then, I would’ve done anything he wanted.

“Ohh, you’ve got a dirty side to you, Daniela,” he said. The way he was looking at me, he knew I was his to use as he pleased.

He pulled me towards him and laid me over his knees, ass up in the air. Even though I knew what was coming, I still yelped when he spanked me. My butt stung where he’d slapped me, and when he did it again, I cried out.

“You like being treated like a slut, don’t you?” he said, stroking my pussy before spanking me again.

“Yes,” I whimpered. He slapped my butt again, then pleasure washed through as I felt his fingers slide up inside me. I moaned.

He rested his thumb ever so slightly against my asshole. I tensed and took in a sharp breath.

“Too much for you?” He spanked me again, stroked my back with his other hand.

“No…” I moaned.

His fingers were back, entering me, his thumb running little circles around my tight knot.

“Didn’t think so,” he said. And then he pushed his thumb in.

I bit my lip to muffle my squeal, but I bucked and my back arched on its own.

He chuckled and shoved his fingers in me with more force, manipulating me, brutally shoving through my hesitation. My hands scrambled for grip, but there was nothing to hold on to. The pleasure was overwhelming me. What he was doing was so simple, but done with such deliberate precision that my body treated his touch — his need — as a command. I barely noticed when he grabbed my neck, I was writhing in orgasm, my eyes rolled back in my head.

Maybe I blacked out, maybe not, but the next thing I knew I was on all fours in front of him, his dick skewering my pussy, his hips slamming against mine.

“Beg for it,” he said.

Well that would be easy to do. “Harder,” I wailed, “I need it! Make me cum again.”

His arm wrapped around my ribs in a powerful grip, and still mounted on his cock, he lifted me up. His other arm swept around my thighs, pulling my knees to my chest. He held me in the air, bouncing me on his dick, using me as his fuck toy, removing any last delusion I might’ve had that I was in any way in control.

His hand was on my breast, squeezing it, pinching my nipple. He penetrated me hard, deep, and at a pace so intense I was screaming.

He did it for his pleasure, I knew, but I was the one climaxing, tears streaking my makeup, limbs flailing wildly. My pussy was dripping and abused and spasming, sending bolts of bliss up through me.

“You’re fucking tight, Daniela,” he said.

I was panting, delirious, teetering on the edge of consciousness. But I managed to say, “My ass is tighter.”

He didn’t hesitate. He pulled me up, off his cock, and reached down, angling his dick towards my butt. I barely noticed when he lowered me down, my weight resting on his shaft against my asshole.

But my eyes went wide and jaw dropped when I felt him enter me. I was tense, nervous, and delirious from pleasure.

“First time?” he said.

“Yes,” I moaned, “But don’t stop.”

“I’ll be gentle,” he said.

“No. Fuck me hard, I can take it.”

He shoved me down all the way, and I cried out. I was rubbing my clit with a furious abandon, and as I felt him pleasuring himself with my ass, I began climaxing again.

I had completely lost myself to lust, to ecstasy, to Peter’s need, to my own need. He fucked away at me as I screamed uncontrollably, writhing in his strong grip.

Until eventually I felt him tense, felt his hips kick against me, felt his dick spray a hot load deep in my ass. He groaned, holding me in place, his dick twitching as he filled me with his semen. I was still climaxing, still rubbing my clit, drawing out the pleasure as long as I could.

After he was done, he pulled me off him and set me down on the ground before collapsing back into his seat. Cum was dripping from my ass, mixing on my thigh with all the juice that had been running from my pussy.

I was dazed, on the verge of passing out.

“You should go shower,” he said, “They’ll be back soon.”

He was a gentleman, gathering my clothes, helping me upstairs, starting the water for me. I was in a fog. I’d always thought someone ‘fucking their brains out’ was just an expression, but I literally could not think straight.

I showered, letting the hot water course over me. I examining my tender and bruised and spent body, wondering what I’d tell Luke. Fuck him. I needed to be fucked again, no more waiting for anything.

I started to plan.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/lmxicp/i_had_an_unexpected_connection_with_my_boyfriends