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Gerre was moving out of his bed and swiftly down the hall before he was really awake. The thump registered in his subconscious mind before the waking mind was functioning. He went to go into the bedroom but the door would not open all the way. He heard the noise of crying, almost sobbing, behind the door.
“Darlene, what’s wrong? asked her uncle softly, “I can hear you, but I can’t open the door.”
“I’m… I’m… stuck behind the door,” sobbed Darlene, “I can’t get out of the way.”
“Can you roll over on your side, honey, away from the door?” asked Gerre; between her sobs he was checking the door hinges if he needed to pop them loose.
Gerre heard sounds like someone sliding on a wooden floor. He tried the door again and it opened enough for him to get into the room. He immediately saw Darlene lying, huddled, on the polished wooden floor, near the door. The bed sheets were mostly in a heap on the floor near the bed, along with the blanket and pillows.
As Gerre squatted down to put his arms around Darlene’s body, she slowly rolled over onto her back and raised her arms to make it easier for him to pick her up. Darlene was crying; the sobs were jerking her petite body like puppet strings. Gerre got his arms around Darlene, pulled her up into a sitting position, and then moved behind her to pick up her. His hands passed over her small breasts and settled into a crossed grip under her armpits as he lifted her upward. Gerre held Darlene against his body as he picked her up off her feet, cradled her in his arms, and moved back toward the bed. He could tell she felt wet to his touch; probably from needing to pee and not making it to the bath room.
“I… I… I… was trying to get to the bathroom,” sobbed Darlene, “I… I… I di… di… didn’t…didn’t… want to wake you up. I… I… I wanted to do it myself.”
“Honey,” said Gerre quietly, “I really do understand. But you just aren’t strong enough yet to try without some help. Let me get you cleaned up and I’ll get you into the shower.”
“Wer… wer… were you in the shower before you came in here?” Darlene asked her uncle as he was getting her situated in the middle of the bed.
“Why do you want to know,” answered Gerre, “Actually I was just in bed about an hour.”
“Because,” Darlene looked downward said as she blushed a deep red, “you don’t have any pants on”.
It dawned on Gerre that, yes, he’d dashed out when he head heard the thump without putting on his running shorts. He was clearly nude and standing here in front of his niece with his limp penis flapping in the breeze.
“Does this bother you,” Gerre asked Darlene as he was beginning to clean her up, ” I can go put my pants on.
” I… don’t know,” thought Darlene out loud, she looked at her uncle’s private parts – the first adult male private parts she could EVER recall seeing in her entire life, ” you have seen every part of me, so maybe me seeing you, too, isn’t all that different.”
“Oh, it’s different,” said Gerre laughing, “believe me – you’d only get a ticket for flashing your boobs, I can get 20 years in prison for letting it “flap around in public.”
Darlene was trying not to stare, but it was a little difficult with her uncle standing right there with his hands between her legs cleaning her up. She could see how his penis – the penis of the uncle that she barely knew existed – was hanging downward in front of a big bag that was behind it, in front of his… his crotch, she guessed. Thanks to her zealot mother and the school system being afraid of her evangelical grandfather, she didn’t know shit about male body parts except some pieced together stories from girls at school. She had to leave gym class whenever they discussed sex education topics, and her mother nearly decapitated the school nurse who suggested that she see a “female doctor” her freshman year for cramps. She ended up going to see one, anyway, her cramps had gotten so bad it was not an option.
“Earth to Darlene,” said her uncle, “this is mission control calling Darlene.”
Darlene looked up to her uncle’s face and stared at his eyes for a moment. Here she lay, totally naked, on a bed, with this man cleansing the most intimate parts of her body, and he was standing next to her equally naked. His face was peaceful, his eyes were watching her eyes. She knew this was absolutely against everything that she had been schooled, taught, and even severely spanked by her mother into believing was sinfully wrong. She was not married to this person, and even then total nudity was out of the question according to her upbringing. Her inner spirit, however, was telling her this man cared more about her as a person, as a woman, than anyone else in the family had ever said in all her years.
Darlene decided that if this is how she got to learn more about all the “real” taboos in her life, and so far the touching experiences were pretty good, that her uncle could do cartwheels naked and she didn’t’ care. She knew she should care that he was naked – hell, she was naked, too – but casino şirketleri he wasn’t getting all ultra paranoid about his privates being on display not 2 feet from her face. Something in this felt – calm – like he did this kind of stuff all the time. It might be totally wrong but she liked having him touch her, and touch her all over was wonderful.
“Since neither one of us has anything to ‘hide’ now, I have some questions for you, ” said Darlene as she looked up at her uncle’s face, “and please tell me you’ll answer them because I really need to know some things.”
“Well,” thought Gerre as he wiped his niece’s body with a wash cloth, “I usually want some input on the questions before I say yes, but I’ll try to answer what you ask. Before we begin playing ’20 questions’, let me get you into the shower and get you cleaned up.”
Gerre sat Darlene up on the side of the bed, and then helped her stand up, get past the initial dizziness, before starting to walk slowly her toward the door. He’d worry about cleaning the room later. They looked like two dancers; he walking backward with his arms out, she letting him lead the motions. Her small, petite body next to his large size, his well-defined chiseled muscles could have been a ballet dancer and her partner. Except, for the aspect that they were both completely nude.
Gerre had not said anything about his nudity since Darlene had pointed it out. He felt if it bothered her she would say something, or she was too embarrassed. He was certain, just by her intent stare and interested inspection of his penis and testicles that his bible-thumping sister had made sure Darlene was literally dumber than a box of rocks about anything sexual. He would let her decide what she preferred. He preferred no clothing but that was risking his getting a hard-on waving in his niece’s face. That was still on the ‘to be debated’ block.
Gerre got Darlene into the oversized shower room and sat her backwards in a small portable chair where she could lean over the back. She watched him move around the area, getting the soap and shampoo, while he turned on the water and let it get up to a temp she could handle. She watched him -no – she studied his penis and that big bag behind it as he moved. It always seemed to move over to the same side when he leaned over, his penis would hang down in the same place. The more she watched him, the more she found out that she really didn’t care if he was naked or not. This was more education in 20 minutes than the private school had ever given her. She’d ask him later to give her a “parts lesson” on what was which. For now, she had other questions she wanted an answers and they wouldn’t wait any longer.
As Gerre started to wet her back and put soap on her, Darlene asked him bluntly: “I want you to tell me why I’ve never heard hardly squat about you my entire life. And – what I did hear – was usually spit put like a bad taste, a bug, or a sour lemon.”
“Are you sure?” he answered, “it’s pretty boring shit after 20 or so years.”
“Yep,” said Darlene smiling, “boring shit or not boring shit, I want to hear your side so I can make my own decisions.”
“Okay,” said Gerre, “remember that some, or all, of what you know is pretty one-sided and well biased with all that “bible-thumper bullshit” the family has grilled into you. I’ll tell you in my way without any bullshit involved.
Gerre began to tell Darlene the real story that almost permanently separated him from the rest of the family. He told her about being ill while in high school and that causing his balls (now she knew what that big bag was holding!) to swell and stay swelled. He told her about trying to get laid but all the girls only wanted to see his “bull balls” nuts, not have sex. Then he told her about getting the “bite from hell” that started the serious pissing contest with her grandfather.
“What do you mean, “Darlene asked with a look of unbelievability on her face, “that she actually bit your… your… thing?”
“Yes,” said Gerre, ” and the proper term is penis. You can call it dick, pecker, rod, whatever, but penis is the pretty plain name for this thing hanging here.” With that, Gerre, took his hand and pulled the foreskin back so Darlene could see the entire head of his penis and let it hang back down.
“And she had that – it – in her mouth?” asked Darlene, trying to picture her uncle’s thing hanging in front of her sticking in someone’s mouth. The image didn’t make sense, yet.
“Yes,” said Gerre, ” she was doing what’s called ‘sucking’ on my penis like a lollipop; it was my first time; I overreacted because it feels so good, and she bit me.”
“Then what happened?” asked Darlene, really wanting to know how the “pissing contest” got started. Some girl sucking on her uncle’s penis – she must have not been wrapped too tight.
“Well, I was taken to the hospital bleeding all over, it took 5 stitches on the back of the ridge right here to close up the bite. My father, your grandfather, showed up and just ripped my face off on how everyone casino firmaları in town would know, how we would be disgraced, blah, blah. He beat the crap out of me when I got home and he grounded me ‘for life.’
“What he didn’t know was that your mom, when I was really sick that year before and your late grandmother was out of the house, she used to come in my room to bring me food, read my homework to me, and simple things like that.”
“And,” said Gerre, “what he really didn’t know was that your mother, before all the bible thumping glory she reeks of now, used to help me go to the bathroom 2-3 times a day. She’d hold my penis so I could to the bathroom and not make a mess. In those days, we didn’t think it was wrong to do that. It just was not discussed outside my room because we already shared secrets between us.”
“So, what’s bad about that,” asked Darlene, while trying to envision her mother holding her uncle’s penis in her hand while he went to the bathroom, “she was helping you when you were sick.”
“Well,” grinned her uncle,” you mother found out how to tease me; she’d hold my penis with her fingers and make my penis get hard and stand up. Wrong or not, I wasn’t going to stop her while she was making me feel really good. Then one day, she started really stroking it harder up and down, like one of her girl friends had told her she did to her boyfriends. She didn’t stop and I ejaculated a huge load of semen all over her. And I do mean all over her – hair, hands, chest, arms, and the bed. That’s when I found out the by-product of being sick – I’d shoot large loads of male fluids called semen every time I ejaculated.
Darlene was trying to take in all these new terms and picture these things her uncle was describing, but she had no point of reference to go by. Hard on, ejaculation, holding his penis, all this stuff; she could picture her hand holding his penis, and that seemed okay to her. But the rest, well it was like hearing a new language to her. She’d have to ask him later to show her, if he would. He might think her ‘too little’ or too young.
“That doesn’t sound like much of an issue,” Darlene said, “only you and mom knew, and no one was telling her to do that to you… your penis.” Darlene was still trying to picture how just holding his penis in her hand would create such a mess.
“True,” mused Gerre, “except that even when I got better, your mom would still come to my room after everyone was asleep and pump my penis. Sometimes she would finish what she started, other times a noise would scare her and she would stop. She had started letting me touch her breasts; her nipples would get really hard like yours are doing right now.”
“And, ” Gerre paused while he watched Darlene blush a little on the mention of her nipples, “I had convinced your mom to let me play with her body and between her legs like she was doing to me…”
“Like you did to me last evening,” interjected Darlene as she blushed a bright red,” when you gave me the massage?”
“Yes, exactly honey,” said Gerre, “only she and I were doing more than some simple touch and feel. We were beginning to experiment with things that could get us into serious trouble if we got caught.”
“You mean,” questioned Darlene quickly, “that you and mom were having sex?” This was something she had never thought about – her mother ‘doing it’ with anyone, even her stepfather. He never seemed to have much of an opinion, anyway.
“Well, “Gerre slowly answered, “we knew that if we had real sex, she’d get pregnant with the huge loads I was shooting. So, I’d oil her backside and then slide it up and down between her butt cheeks until I got off. She could clinch her cheeks together and squeeze my penis to make it feel more like her hand. It was easier to clean it off her back than out of her hair. Rarely did your mother let me slide my penis up and down her slit in the front. She’d “jack me off” with her hand, that’s’ what it’s called, until I would get hard enough to ejaculate again. “
“Then,” smiled Gerre very slowly, “one night I was sliding my penis up and down between her butt cheeks, I kept seeing her asshole there, it was slick from my dripping and the oils, so I decided to slide into her butt hole because it had to be as tight as her hand when she pumped me.”
“I did, and she went wild crazy, said Gerre. “Your mom bumped back into me and my entire penis went all the way into her ass hole. I went to pull out and she shoved back on my penis again, so I shoved it back into her again. We started doing that and it felt extraordinary. I started seriously pumping my penis in and out of her as fast as I could go because I knew I was about to get off again. Your mother had gotten off – had an orgasm – probably 3-4 times, like you did last night, and we were still humping like crazy.”
“We were naked, in my room, screwing our brains out like two dogs in heat when your grandfather opened the door and caught us. Here I was, with my penis sticking in your mother’s ass, and I’m screwing her as fast as I can go with güvenilir casino her. Your grandfather went spastic and literally pulled us apart. I started shooting a huge load right then, and it went all over him. I couldn’t stop shooting until the moment passed so he had it all over him.”
“Oh shit,” said Darlene, “oops, sorry.” Darlene had seen her grandfather mad and it was not a pretty sight.
Gerre continued, “That started a huge, big-ass fist fight between your grandfather and me. He was going to beat my ass again and I decided he wasn’t going to hit me any more. So; I punched him out cold, packed my bags, and then I left home. I had gotten into sports and martial arts during school to get my strength back after I had been sick. It was just after that I joined the Navy and went to Boot Camp in San Diego. That’s when your mom ended up in the girl’s religious college. Your grandfather forced her into it – he was on her case 24/7 about being a whore, a useless slut, all that kid of mind washing. She never forgave me for causing her to not graduate high school with her friends, for leaving her with your grandparents, and for her having to go to that overly crazy religious girl’s school. To this day, and forever, it will be my fault that we got caught because I never stopped her the first time she played with my penis when I was sick.
“But why didn’t you come home when Grandmamma died,” asked Darlene, “that was 4 years ago.”
“I didn’t come home,” answered Gerre slowly, “because your grandfather told your mother if she contacted me ever again, that he’d disown her as a sick pervert. I already had a “history” of perverted behavior in his mind, so her “getting one” from me would be easy to do and go all over town in a minute. I never knew your grandmother had passed until last fall when I found out through the county court about her will and insurance settlements. Your grandfather hates me so much that he sees me as non-existent in his mind.”
Darlene was sitting there taking this all in while her uncle was still giving her a bath. It felt good to have someone, her uncle, wash her body. She could tell she was also getting wet between her legs again and that was wonderful. She had that feeling between her thighs again and it was only getting stronger. Her uncle had noticed her nipples were getting like hard brown barriers again when he reached around to wash her chest. Having him massage her breasts was like a small heaven again.
Darlene had noticed that her uncle’s penis seemed to be a little longer than it was a few minutes ago. It also looked like it was getting bigger around but she wasn’t sure. Maybe her imagination but the end seemed to be more obvious, it was redder than earlier and more of the head, he had called it – was sticking out in the open. She guessed that was like her clit – if so, she already knew why it felt so good to have it rubbed. At the moment, he was going up and down her back with a body wash sponge, and it felt so good. She felt him circle around her lower back and buttocks, but not reach between her cheeks where her asshole was. She could tell it was still inflamed, somewhat sore, but not as bad as before.
Darlene asked her uncle, “Why did you never move back? There are plenty of things you could do…”
“I never moved back,” Gerre interrupted, “because I fell in love with the traveling in the Navy, the job was providing me an education I could never get back home, and I qualified to go to the Naval Academy my second year. The Navy gave me a chance for a very unique kind of professional career I had only creamed of before.”
“And,” Gerre continued, “your mother wouldn’t write to me; your grandmother and the rest of the family had been ‘warned’ by your grandfather they’d burn in hell if they ever recognized I was alive. So I was left to my own choices in life; I chose the Navy and I have never looked back.”
“That was almost 20 years ago; almost a year before you were born,” her uncle went on. “I tried once, as I was about to graduate from the Naval Academy, to contact your grandmother. All I got was silence on the telephone when I called; your grandfather was probably in the room, all she said was ‘you must have the wrong number, we have no son’, and hung up. I never called again.”
“Then,” Darlene mused,” how did my mother know how to contact you about me if you quit calling?”
“I always let your aunts, or Great Aunt Betty, know where I was stationed,” said Gerre, ” I could depend on your great aunt to tell your grandfather to go piss off whenever she felt like it. She’d keep my mom up to date, and I’m sure she’d drop hints to your mother. Your great aunt was my pipeline into family business even when I was going places not even on a map. Your mother called me about you because she still thinks I owe her.”
Gerre helped Darlene turn around in the chair so he could wash her belly, thighs, and lower legs. She was sitting there watching him bathe her; she knew that her upbringing said none of this should be happening, but nothing seemed to be wrong. She closed her eyes as her uncle used the body sponge to wash her belly just above her crotch; it felt far better than any time she had used a sponge. Now that she knew that word, it made some sense in knowing where body parts are located.
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