Uncle Ed's Lap
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Uncle Ed's Lap
by Parker Ford
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Erotica
Excessica Publishing
www.excessica.com
Copyright ©2009 by Parker Ford
NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
CONTENTS
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WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author's imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Selena Kitt
Uncle Ed's Lap (C) February 2010 Parker Ford
eXcessica publishin
All rights reserved
Uncle Ed's Lap
By Parker Ford
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When Aunt Carole died, we were all shocked. Only in her mid-forties, it was a hell of a time to lose her. It was a hard pill to swallow that a small hole in her heart, undetected all those years, could fell such a beautiful, lively, passionate woman. But it did. Which served as a great lesson to me. One I knew she'd want me to learn well. Live life while you can, grab it by the balls, ride it hard and put it away wet. All the things a young woman starting her freshman year in college should know. Life's a bitch and then you die.
So I volunteered to spend my month before going to the university helping Uncle Ed get everything in order. It was the least I could do considering all they'd done for me over the years. What can I say, I'm a saint.
“Where do you want me to put these?” I asked, keeping my voice soft. I didn't want to poke a fresh wound but Uncle Ed had asked me to fold up Aunt Carole's clothes for donation. I was also instructed to keep any that might suit me. So far, I had kept a black pencil skirt, a gray cashmere sweater, and a few pieces of lingerie.
“After you bag them, set them in the corner. Thomasina Daniels is doing a run up to the church thrift shop. She said she won't mind swinging in.”
I watched him run a hand through his thick, dark hair. He was sporting a bit too much stubble for a business man but just enough for a construction supervisor. Which he was. His hands, dark brown from the sun, looked almost gold against the black of his hair. He'd always been a handsome man, he was getting better with age. I looked down at the red sweater I held. I should stop thinking how cute my uncle is probably.
“That was her favorite sweater,” he said, smiling. “She called it her tart sweater but I always loved it. Loved to take it off, in fact.” His face colored and he cleared his throat. “Sorry, Fiona, that was probably inappropriate.”
“Oh, I've heard worse, Uncle Ed. I'm going into my freshman year of college, you know. These are no longer virginal ears.” Then I flushed because I had meant my ears not my other parts. But I wasn't a virgin, for the record.
He snorted, eyes shining with laughter. “You should keep that. It suits your skin tone. Once in a great while I catch you out of the corner of my eye and you look so much like here, Fi. I think it's her. But then I turn and it's you.”
My heart broke a little for him then. “It's those Jones genes. We all have the crazy dirty blonde hair and the—”
“Beautiful blue eyes.” He smiled.
“Thanks.” I folded the sweater, dropped it in the pile.
“You don't want it?”
“I don't look so good in red.”
Plus I feel like I'm poaching from a dead woman
Uncle Ed turned me to the long mirror on the closet door. He draped the red sweater over me and I held it up. His big hands smoothed down the front and I tried so hard to ignore the silken slip of his fingers over my curves. You should not covet your uncle. Even if he isn't truly blood. You should not have dreams about him and wake up half way to orgasm. You should certainly not then finish yourself off with trembling slippery fingers in the room next door to his. On the other side of paper thin walls. These were all the things you should not do. And all the things I was doing.
“I like it.” His breath drifted across my face as he spoke, looking over the top of my head at us in the mirror. There we were reflected, me looking so small in front of him as his hands held the sweater from behind. I am a tall woman, he made me feel down right elfin. “I think you should keep it. Come on, where's your secret pile? She had beautiful taste in clothes. There have to be a few you're keeping.”
I pointed to the far side of the bed, blushing. The doorbell rang and he touched my arm. “Be right back. Thanks for this, Fiona. You've always been special to me. Now I know why. You're priceless.”
For such a big man he moved with ease. I watched him go, fighting the urge to lock myself in the bathroom and masturbate. I'd always had a little girl crush on him. I had always told my mother he was the ‘handsomest man in the world’ and she would laugh. She'd laugh harder when I proclaimed I'd marry him one day. Kids say that stuff. But here I was crushing hard on him, not getting sleep, daydreaming about things that were wrong, wrong, wrong.
“Fiona, look at you!” Thomasina Daniels screeched and I dropped the long blue sweater coat I was folding. I retrieved it, hands shaking.
“Hi, Mrs. Daniels. Good to see you,” I said. Uncle Ed walked in behind her, beaming at me. He winked because everyone knew how damn loud that woman is.
“My, my, my. Not a little girl at all, are you? Now you're all grown up.” She turned to Uncle Ed and elbowed him and he winced. “Edward, I have to say, she's a woman now! Our little Fiona is a woman. With boobs and everything!”
Uncle Ed started coughing and I let out a little cry of disbelief. Oh shit, had she actually said that aloud? She had. Of course she had. We didn't call her the magpie for nothing. “Um...thank you?”
Uncle Ed turned, shoulders heaving. He was laughing. Damn him. I held out a bag. “Let me help you get these to the car.” Anything to get her out of here. “There's some more stuff, but I can run them up one day myself.”
“I can wait if you need,” Mrs. Daniels said, looking hopeful.
“No. No need for that. I think I'm done for the day.” I rolled my eyes behind her back as I followed her out. Uncle Ed was still laughing, standing in the doorway, taking up all the space. As I passed him, he tried to move out of my way. It ended with a mortifying bump and grind with me, him and a big green trash bag. “Sorry, sorry!” I squeaked, forcing past finally.
I heard him go and gather the last of the bags while I hurried out, panting and tingling. Was I losing my mind? What did they call it? Projecting? I had either lost it completely or my uncle's cock had been hard.
For me.
I'd been here for two weeks now and I felt pretty much at home. As a kid I had always come on summer break to stay for a few weeks. Taking the train the three hour trip from my home further south. It had been so much fun, the adventure of the train, being spoiled by Aunt Carole and Uncle Ed. They had no children of their own so they spoiled me rottenzoo trips, the pool, movies, dinners out. It was always the highlight of my time off from school.
Back in their large Connecticut home, I felt safe and secure and loved. I brushed my teeth, trying to remember all the things I needed to get for college. If I thought about starting classes and dorm life too much I got so nervous I couldn't sleep, so I pushed the thoughts away. It was just nerves and nerves were normal.
I shut the light off and the tiny nightlight sprang to life. I smoothed my nightgown down, heart pounding. I refused to think about what had happened earlier. I had a lot in my head, surely it had been my imagination.
I tried to tiptoe on the hardwood floor. The house was so quiet and it was so late, I could only assume I was the only one up. And uncle Ed had to get up early for work. Construction crews were like roosters he'd say, greeting the day before the sun did.
As usual, the floor squeaked as I passed the master suite. I froze, not wanting to wake him. He'd been sleeping poorly since aunt Carole died, the least I could do was be quiet. I stayed that way, waiting to make sure I hadn't disturbed him. I heard a soft whispery sound and breathing. Not mine. My heart pounded in my ears and I knew I should keep going. I shouldn't be a nosy parker as my mother said, but I waited anyway. The sound increased as did the breathing. I peeked around the edge of the door and my eyes fought to focus in the dark.
“Oh,” my uncle said. So soft that no one should be able to hear. No one expect the person spying from the doorway. “Oh, god.”
He was jacking off. I bit my lip, I should look away. I didn't. Instead, I steadied myself with a hand on the door jam. This was normal, I told myself. A man had needs. A man who has just lost his wife is still a man. My hand, seemingly possessed, crept up under my nightgown. I felt the warm fluid already sliding from me. The tops of my thighs trembled like I had a fever. I touched my clit with shaking fingers as I watched him.
He nearly looked to be wrestling with himself. Like he didn't want to do this but had to. The moonlight leaking in the old glazed window panes illuminated him in milky shadows. His big hand slid up and down the length of his cock, his face set, eyes closed tightly. His hips pistoned up and down as he fucked the hole made by his own fist. The white linen sheets nearly glowed in the moonlight.
Oh godI should goI should. Instead I slipped my fingers into my pussy and pressed and pressed and touched until my womb felt tingly and my knees felt weak. Then I spread my wetness around my clit, running hard fast circles with my middle finger. I clutched the door jam and tried not to breathe at all so he wouldn't hear me.
His movements grew faster, his head tossed one way and then the other. I would have paid a million dollars to know what movie was playing in his head at that moment. My aunt? A playboy bunny? The girl at the hot dog stand who never wore panties? God, dare I hope it? Me?
I worked myself faster, holding my breath as my uncle sighed. “Oh, fuck.” I saw the shadowed arc of come shoot across his knuckles, watched his lean hips fucking upward off the bed, heard him breathe, “Oh, god, Fiona.”
And then I gasped and he looked my way.
I half expected him to come after me and I waited, heart pounding, pussy thumping, for a knock at the door. It didn't come. After a few moments with no relief, I hiked my nightgown up and touched myself. I rubbed circles on my swollen eager clit until I couldn't stand it and used a small bottle of lotion in a cylindrical bottle as a dildo. I hadn't brought a vibrator with me to uncle Ed's it had just seemed weird. My legs pushed wide, hips thrusting up, I fucked myself while rubbing my clit so hard I feared permanent damage.
My head was full of him. The cut of his jaw, his dark, dark hair. His strong hands and muscular forearms and the tan he had year round from being outside. His big blue eyes on me, thinking about fucking me, calling out my name when he came.
I came then, a warm rush of pleasure and then I was coming again. Blissfully long spasms as my cunny milked the lotion bottle and I shivered under the thin cotton sheet. I heard a noise and froze. Nothing then. Just my heart beating like a celebration drum and the secretive whispers of my skin on the sheet. But I had to wonder as I turned over to sleep, had he just heard me, too?
When I woke up there were bagels on the counter and coffee in the pot. Uncle Ed was gone. I looked but there was no note. I could only hope that he didn't feel weird about last night, but I knew damn well he did because how could you not? I had felt weird about my attraction to him and my secret fantasies. The dreams that woke me up with sweat on my upper lip and a burning heat that needed to be quelled between my thighs. I knew how that felt, so I closed my eyes and tried to think of him happy and not upset.
Fantasies were just fantasies. You didn't have to act on them. Right?
I busied myself cleaning the kitchen. Bachelors suck at cleaning. So do young coeds but hey, I was bored and my mother Marie had taught me well. Cleanliness was next to godliness, plus if you threw yourself into it, it could make the afternoon fly in an blink. I ate cucumbers from the garden with homemade ranch sauce uncle had made the night before for dinner. That was all I really had the stomach for. I poured a big glass of lemonade and downed it in four long swallows. Then I started rearranging the cabinets and wiping down the liners. The worst chore I could imagine from my growing up years. Now it seemed to soothe me.
“Wow. I had no idea I would come home to such a tight ship,” he said from the doorway. I jumped, a china plate shattering at my feet. A thousand tiny jagged teeth of china scattered around me on the red tile floor. Barefoot and in turquoise shorts instead of jeans, I was pretty much fucked. “Shit, I'm sorry, Fiona.” He colored when he said my name aloud and my cunt responded with tightening warmth. “You're bleeding.”