Loving Uncle Mike

An uncle and niece find love. Despite societal constraints and taboos they engage in a consensual incestuous affair.

Thank you Gustavca for your editing help and feedback

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My name is Elizabeth "Beth" Graham-Waterhouse. I'm married with one child, a little boy, and very pregnant with another. My husband is fifteen years my senior, educated, professionally established, an excellent provider and my uncle. I know, I know your first thought was, "that's incest," how could she do that with her uncle? In the beginning I wondered the same thing myself, and was filled with more guilt and self-reproach than I can express.

For the last couple of years, I've been a member of a support group called CIR. The group is small and anonymous with a goal to support and counsel people who have been or are currently involved in consensual incestuous relationships. Part of the self-awareness process is to encourage you to examine critically your situation. To develop an understanding of how and why the relationship developed in the first place. It's taken me awhile to actually sit down and go through this process, but I think I'm now in the right place emotionally and mentally so that I can objectively look back on what happened.

*****

I guess you'd call my father a workaholic. He spent more time working, traveling, and plotting his business than he ever did with Mom and me. Growing up I definitely was not a daddy's girl, no matter how much I would love to have been. I loved Daddy, but for as long as I can remember he'd always been emotionally distant, and as a little girl I missed not having a closer relationship with him. Always needing, but denied, Daddy's love and approval I became a quiet, solitary child much preferring to daydream and be with my books than other children. I knew Mom was as lonely and missed Daddy's presence as much as I did. Mom tried as best she could to reassure me that though he wasn't always there, my Dad loved me very much, but it wasn't enough and I emotionally needed him to be there with us.

When he came home from his business trips, I knew the scenario by heart. He would typically head for his office, where he would work until late in the evening, having given me a cursory kiss on the cheek before sending me off to bed after dinner. Often I'd be awakened from my sleep by the sound of Mom and Daddy arguing and screaming at each other. I would sit up in bed frightened by the noise at first and then curious about the quiet. Mom would run upstairs crying and lock herself in their bedroom. After a while, Daddy would come up and get her to unlock the door. He'd go into the room and close the door. Soon there would be muffled conversation that I couldn't understand and then moaning sounds and funny crying noises. Unable to sleep, I'd get up and sometimes I could hear Mommy yell at him telling him, "Do it . . . fuck me, yes, yes." Usually I couldn't hear Daddy but sometimes I could make out him telling her she was a fucking bitch and didn't deserve his dick up her pussy. It wasn't angry yelling, and at the time I had no idea what they were talking about, but it would go on for a long time, with Daddy being loud and scary and Mommy crying and begging him to do things to her. I'd sit outside their bedroom door listening, wishing I were in there with them, in their bed enjoying Daddy's closeness and love just like Mommy did.

I remember when I was around eight; the word "divorce" started creeping into their conversation. They would both become very upset and angry at each other whenever they talked about getting a divorce. I wasn't quite sure what a divorce was, but I knew that when it happened, one of your parents would move away. I wasn't sad or upset by this, in fact, I thought it would be wonderful, I mean, Mommy would go away and I would stay with Daddy. It would be my room that he came to, my bed that he got into at night and me that he would do things to, to make me stop crying and feel better. As things would have it, Daddy and Mommy eventually worked through this rough period and ended up staying together.

*****

Michael Waterhouse was Daddy's younger brother. I had heard Daddy talk about having a brother, but they had been estranged for a long time. After the death of their mother, Daddy and Michael began talking again and patched up their differences.

I guess the last time I saw my Uncle Mike I was still in grade school and actually barely remembered him. I met Uncle Mike again for the first time in almost ten years after he and Daddy made up, when he paid us a surprise visit. I felt an immediate attraction to him. He was about thirty-five years old, a younger version of Daddy. Uncle Mike was over six feet tall and about 190 lbs., with a hard, athletic build. Handsome, clean-shaven head and deep green eyes just like Daddy's. Though Uncle Mike looked like Daddy, he was different; he was always attentive and interested in what I had to say. Whether he meant it or not, he seemed to enjoy my company, which attracted me to him even more. I sometimes found myself wishing he were my father.

I experienced times when my desire to be close to my Uncle Mike would spark flashes of jealousy. There was the time I was in the pool house and ended up watching him have sex with Pam Dunlap, our married neighbor and Mom's best friend. It happened so fast. Before I realized what they were doing, they had their clothes off and he had her backed up against the door and was between her legs. His cock was swollen and hard and my mouth dropped open as I watched him poke at her pussy wanting to get it inside her. He looked so determined, I could feel a growing moistness between my own legs and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning out loud. After he stuck his dick in her and pumped a few times, he told her to put it in her mouth. She refused at first, saying she didn't want to, but even I could tell she was teasing him. He played the game for a while, halfheartedly begging and cajoling her. When she finally said okay, he pressed her roughly to her knees and eagerly stuck his humongous cock with its glistening, wet head deep into her mouth. I could hear her gagging and saw her trying to pull away, but Uncle Mike was having none of that.

He put his hands to the sides of her head to hold it steady and started pushing his cock in and out of her mouth. I watched his face when he closed his eyes and began to stroke into her throat, all the while calling her names and telling her she was an easy bitch and that he was going to give her exactly what she wanted. This went on for several minutes, with him sometimes gently stroking and sometimes pounding into her mouth and throat, spit and slobber leaking out of her mouth and down her chin. When he slowed and pulled his cock out leaving only the head in her mouth, I thought . . . 'run! You can get away from him now,' but instead she took his cock tenderly in her hand and I watched in disbelief as she licked and sucked it until he pushed it back into her mouth. When he couldn't or didn't want to hold back any more he pulled her head tightly into his groin, arched his back and grunted loudly as he spewed his white stuff down her throat. Her eyes opened wide with surprise just before she started coughing and spitting out his cum. He looked at her and in a stern, hard voice said simply "no", and the woman lifted her eyes to him, licked her lips and swallowed everything he had given her.

The thought that Uncle Mike was not a very nice man remained locked in my mind from that point on, but I knew if he ever told me to get on my knees and let him put his cock in my mouth I would do it.

*****

Daddy persuaded Uncle Mike to stay another week before heading home in San Diego. I was thrilled at having Uncle Mike's attention for a whole week. One day Uncle Mike and I were goofing around in the pool, I had my arms around his neck and my legs wrapped around his waist as he held on to me, jumping up and down in the water making me giggle and hold my breath when he went under the water. I was laughing so hard and having so much fun, I didn't notice when he walked to the side of the pool and pressed me against the wall. I could feel his growing hardness. I stopped laughing and looked at him quizzically when he began grinding himself hard between my open legs, igniting a deep throbbing where he rubbed against me, sending a hot sizzling sensation through me.

"Uncle Mike? Uncle Mike, what are you doing?" I asked breathlessly.

At the sound of my voice, he stopped. Though initially alarmed by the strange look in his eyes, I reached up and touched his face. He stared at me for a moment, then put me down and hurriedly got out of the pool leaving me flushed and with a strange achiness between my legs.

Uncle Mike began avoiding me after that. I didn't understand why he was suddenly so mean to me. I thought I had said or done something that upset him. I tried talking to him, but he would rudely brush me off, once even telling me to stop being such a "silly, stupid little girl." To him I was apparently just a kid and he had better things to do than worry about my hurt feelings. He left within the next couple of days, and I did not see him again for several months.

*****

Though he wasn't able to make my eighteenth birthday party, Uncle Mike started visiting us more often, and I would wait with nervous anticipation for those visits. On more than one occasion, I would see the growing erection in his pants as he watched me in the yard, the pool or just meandering about in the house. It was during this visit that our relationship began to change, emotionally and physically. Uncle Mike recognized and nurtured that initial attraction between us; some might say he took advantage of a vulnerable, needy young girl. Sensing my insecurities, Uncle Mike told me things I needed, wanted, to hear. Soon it seemed as if the most important thing to me was pleasing him, wanting his supportive, encouraging words, soft kisses. Without consciously meaning to, the gentle caresses slowly progressed to intimate fondling and mutual masturbation.

Though he never aggressively pressured me to do anything, and never made sexually inappropriate gestures around my parents, his obvious desire flattered me. I remember during one of his visits Mom and Daddy had gone out and Uncle Mike decided to take me to the movies. The theatre was almost empty, the lights already dimming when he took my hand and led me to the last row of seats in the darkened upper level loge. Perhaps twenty minutes into the movie, he placed his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer to him, letting his large warm hand tease my nipples until they were hard and erect under my blouse. He tilted my chin up and kissed me hard on the mouth and I felt a pleasant tingling sensation between my legs. I snuggled in against his chest, enjoying the scent of cologne and tobacco that clung to his clothes.

I didn't exactly see him, but sensed him unzipping his pants. He covered his lap with his jacket, and in the security and anonymity of the dark theatre, freed his cock. Taking my hand, he slipped it under his jacket. My first instinct was to pull it away but he closed my hand around his semi-hard cock and in a hoarse voice whispered, "Play with it, baby. It belongs to you, you know. Go ahead."

"Uncle Mike, I'm afraid, someone will see." I said nervously.

"No one will see us here, don't worry," he said reassuringly. "I . . . I just thought that knowing how good it would make me feel and how much I wanted to enjoy this with you . . . that you . . . but if it makes you uncomfortable it's okay. It's okay."

"No, no I want to, let me, Uncle Mike," I said in a barely audible voice not wanting him to be upset with me.

Taking his cock, I began slowly stroking it up and down. It was already huge and hot, but I could still feel it swelling and pulsing in my hand. I could hear a low groan in his throat each time the pressure and friction of my closed hand brushed over the rim of his swollen cockhead.

The jacket slipped to the floor and he was now exposed, and I glanced up nervously to see if anyone had heard or noticed what we were doing. I was about to bend and pick it up when he began to breathe faster and louder, and I felt the thin, stickiness of his leaking pre-cum coating my fingers and I started rubbing it faster. "Yes, yes, that's it . . . just like that, baby . . . just like that," he mumbled under his breath. He put his hand on top of mine and began thrusting harder into my hand. Too embarrassed to look up, I kept my head down as his body stiffened and he ejaculated his warm, thick load into my hand, grunting out, "Oh god, Beth, yes."

That was the day I stopped calling him Uncle Mike, and he became Michael.

After he left and returned home, late at night my phone would ring waking me, and it would be Michael. He would call wanting to talk to me as he masturbated at the other end. He was turned-on knowing I was listening to him cum, and particularly enjoyed it if under my covers I masturbated along with him, softly saying his name into the phone when the warmth of my orgasm washed over me. When we finished, he would tell me how much he loved me, and I would go back to sleep happy and satisfied, dreaming of him.

*****

When the school year ended, my folks planned a small weekend 'start of summer' party and, of course, Michael was invited. The weekend started with the family enjoying a happy, innocent family gathering and ended with Michael taking my virginity.

It was late afternoon. Michael and I slipped away from the others for a short walk before it got too late. As we started back toward the house, we stopped and rested, on the small grass covered hill behind the house. He kissed me hard and possessively and before long my legs were opened for him and he was stretched out between them. Holding my hips in his hands, he raised them and began licking me. Softly, gently at first, lapping, licking around my clit in warm, moist circles. His tongue knowingly tracing the contours of my clit, the shaft, the hood, the almost bursting tip, until my moans grew louder and more insistent. I knew I wanted, needed, more but was unsure what until he pressed his fingers into my butthole and at the same time with broad firm laps began teasing me, running his tongue up and down from my asshole to my exposed, sensitive clit. Reduced to whimpering while holding his face there, I began whorishly humping his mouth pleading with him not to stop.

"Oh, Michael . . . oh, yesssss," I sighed as hot tears overflowed my eyes and dripped down the sides of my face. I saw the mischievous smirk cross his face before he lowered his head again, kissed the tip of my swollen, exposed clit and sucked it into his mouth. How can I describe the sensation? My lower body tensed as he sucked and licked my clit and what I can only describe as an electric shock undulated through me as my orgasm erupted leaving me weak and breathless. We lay there and tears brimmed and overflowed from the unexpected pleasure he had given me.

"Baby, baby, stop crying," he said, kissing my forehead.

Though he hadn't said anything, I knew he wanted to have sex with me but being the wonderful considerate man he is, he did not pressure me. He stood, adjusted his penis and zipped up before he helped me get up and straighten my clothes.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked

"Yes, I'm sorry, I'm not sure why I acted like that."

With his arm around my shoulders, we walked down the small hill, into the house and to my bedroom. Michael closed the bedroom door behind us and stood there watching me walk shakily across the room and open the louvered doors that led out onto the balcony. I walked out, stood there quietly in the still warm afternoon air.

"What we're doing is wrong, isn't it Michael?" I asked as I again began to cry softly. "Why is this happening? Why am I feeling like this?"

"Just because I'm your uncle, some people think what we feel is wrong, but it's not wrong. You're so special to me Beth. I've wanted to be with you for a long time," Michael said. "I want to be your first, Beth. I know this is the way it's supposed to be between us." He continued as he kissed me, his tongue exploring my mouth possessively.

"Oh my god Michael, I'm scared," I said.

"Beth," he said as he reached around me, slipping his hand inside my shirt. "Don't you see that this is inevitable? This afternoon, I gave you your first orgasm, I felt your body tremble in my arms and heard your moans. I know I'm your Dad's brother, but who could love you more? I wanted to enjoy those firsts with you."

"I know, Michael, but I can't help how I feel." Beth replied.

"Stop it and listen to me," Michael said more harshly than he had meant to. "There's nothing to feel guilty about or ashamed of. You know how I feel about you and I know you feel the same way. There's nothing wrong in our expressing our feelings to one another. Baby . . . believe me, trust me I could never do anything that would hurt you or be wrong for you. I want you Beth, as a man wants a woman."

"Let me love you, Beth," Michael said.

Michael held me tightly to him and I stood there feeling frightened, confused not knowing or fully understanding what was happening. I let Michael undress me. "Take my hand," he said and pulled me toward the bed. He maneuvered on the bed so that his back was propped against the headboard and his legs open.

"Come here Beth, sit between my legs," he instructed.

"Michael, no, I don't know if we should . . . "

"It's okay, Beth. Do you understand that I have never thought of you as my niece? I've always seen you as a beautiful, vital woman, always imagined what it would be like between us when we would finally make love . . . close your eyes baby, trust me. You know I wouldn't hurt you, don't you?"

"Yes," she replied hesitantly.

I sat between his open legs and could feel the warmth and rigidity of his erection against the small of my back. He slipped his arms around my chest and pulled me even closer so that I was reclining, my back against his chest.

Michael began gently stroking, massaging my breasts, gradually traveling downward to my stomach, my hips, my thighs. I felt his hand when he reached down between my thighs. He lightly kneaded my smooth, pink mound, occasionally brushing over my clit taking a perverse satisfaction each time he made me moan and shudder. The pressure of his hand increased and as the pad of his thumb created small tight circles on top of my clit, two of his fingers slipped inside me.

"That's it baby, let your body enjoy it," he said when he heard and felt my sudden intake of breathe. He withdrew his now wet, sticky fingers and returning to my swollen, exposed nub caressed and fondled me until my legs opened wider displaying myself to him.

"Michael . . . Michael," I said his name haltingly as my hips began to sway in response to the insistent pressure from his fingers.

"Oh my god, Michael," I moaned. My cries of arousal now reduced to a prolonged, low murmur. I reached down and held his hand trapped between my legs, cupping my clit and pussy. Humping faster against his hand, I writhe against him, my ass rubbing and grinding against his cock. I felt the warmth blossom in the pit of my stomach and begin to spread in hot waves until I surrendered to my second orgasm that day, finally cumming into his hand as he whispered encouragements into my ear, "yes, yes, Beth . . . cum for me, baby."

*****

My breathing returned to normal and I stretched, enjoying that last lingering glow of my orgasm. I absently played with his cock, lightly fingering and stroking it. Massaging his ball sac, and running my fingers along the insides of his thighs as we talked about everything and nothing. I snuggled closer to him and smiled to myself when he groaned with pleasure when I fondled under his balls and slipped the tip of my finger into his asshole. We lay in each other's arms, legs entwined. I worked him with my hand, stroking up and down the shaft of his cock until it became hard and I could feel its warmth, and smell the faint intoxicating musk of his sexual arousal. He quickly went from semi-hard to rock hard.