All characters engaged in sex acts are eighteen or older.
How had this happened? Candace's uncle Ezra crouched over her, his finger in a place where she was afraid to put her own. It wore her like a puppet, deep inside her controlling her movements. One flick and her whole body would tense up, flooded with pleasure. He could circle that special place and her hips would jerk with his finger. He called it a clit, which sounded vaguely dirty on its own.
It was so hard being good. She had moved in with her uncle a week earlier to live here for college. He was resentful of her being there, and she wondered why Daddy had pushed him so hard to let her move in. Still, it was her duty to treat family like family. He would have to come around if she was nice enough, right? He had made her angry after their first Bible study that morning, being needlessly obstinate and saying things about her faith just to get a rise out of her.
When the lesson had ended she stormed off to her room. She had a strange feeling then, like she couldn't stop thinking about how mad her uncle Ezra made her. Ezra was an itch she couldn't scratch, and she was stuck with him. But she had that weird feeling, like when she saw Noah Jones at church. He was a few years older than her and tall. Though he was out of college he still kept fit and dressed sharply for church. He had played baseball. "Good morning, Candace," he would say to her as she came in the door. His blonde hair was short and had just a slight wave to it in the front. He had clear blue eyes that she couldn't look into for too long when he looked down at her. She felt little and immature and unremarkable next to him. But she also had much more sinful feelings.
The first time he was there she had gone home, flustered and red-faced. Luckily she was the only girl in their crowded apartment and had her own room. Hoping a book could calm her down, she lay back on her bed and read. Her hand wandered as she read, and she couldn't keep her mind on her book. Noah Jones's blue eyes dominated her mind, and she wondered what his athletic chest would look like. She wondered what his strong hands would feel like on her. He could probably pick her right up and carry her like a baby if he wanted to. She wondered about his
penis.
Candace had never looked at porn and was proud of herself for it, though she never talked about it. But she knew that to do it a man would put his penis in her vagina. He would thrust it in and out and something would happen. She wasn't quite sure what, but there was definitely an end. Then she would get pregnant and have a baby like God intended. Mom had told her about sex, red faced and whispering, in that year when she had her first period. That was a complete surprise. She woke up in a puddle of blood thinking she was dying. Mom had provided some comfort when she woke her up with hysterical crying. Sex was something that she would discover with her own husband, since she was keeping herself pure for him. Noah Jones was already married, which made her thoughts extra sinful. His wife Sarah was always there with him at church and Candace had seen a flash of jealousy in her eyes a couple of times when Candace had stars in her own eyes.
There was something in her deep down and demonic that liked seeing that. How did Sarah get a man like Noah and not her? If only she could show Noah what a good wife she could be. She could cook and was good at cleaning, and she was smart too. Sure as heck smarter than Sarah who she knew got bad grades through the church rumor mill. She was the one who deserved him. She thought about Noah's naked body, his sweaty, strong chest, his toned thighs. His penis was probably big too, Candace knew that made a difference from how her brothers talked. And how he would strip her dress off, not gently, and clutch her like a prize. "Yes, Noah. Yes, Noah," she said to him in her imagination, and her hand would glide down her leg and up under her dress. What would he feel like inside her? Surely Noah would know what to do. At first she told herself she was just curious and wanted to see what that wet, tingly feeling was. It was the feeling she got when she saw him at church and sometimes when she thought about him at home. It was like her cookie was hot and begging her to touch it. She couldn't take her hand away, and stroked away at her cookie. She had gotten a spanking from Daddy when he heard her use that word for the first time. He hadn't told her any alternative and she figured out that it wasn't so much a bad word, she just wasn't supposed to talk about it at all. But it made her feel feminine and pretty calling it that.
But she couldn't do it right. She knew something was supposed to happen, like an explosion. It happened with boys and girls both. She rubbed herself as she imagined Noah sliding into her. Whispers between her friends at school told her that it would hurt the first time. But she was willing to make the sacrifice for Noah Jones, if she were his wife. Her fingers felt vaguely good, but she knew there was more to it. There were so many little different parts inside her. Her fingers smelled funny too after touching down there, and she couldn't stop sniffing them.
To her shock, she got that Noah Jones feeling when Ezra had teased her during Bible study. There was something forbidden, taboo about the things he said. They used to call words like that heresy, but not so much anymore. It was startling, and she didn't know what it was about Ezra or his attitude that was doing it. She had tried not to, but when she got upstairs she had to touch herself again. No matter how much she tried to think of Noah Jones, her uncle kept popping into her mind. But he had burst in on her, and seen her shame. Uncle Ezra was chubby and had long, gray hair. The opposite of Noah Jones, or so she thought at first. Noah was handsome and fit and clean shaven. She thought she was going to be in the biggest trouble of her life, and he would hand his phone to her with Daddy screaming on the other end while she sobbed a confsssion. But no.
He didn't tell, he didn't even seem to mind. And he wanted to show her how to do it right. He used words like cum and orgasm and clit which made Candace feel embarrassed, but also intrigued and tingly, though she didn't like to admit it. The only people she had ever heard talk like this were some of her friends at school, and they sounded foolish and sinful when they did. Uncle Ezra sounded mature and dark and tempting. He sounded like Noah Jones
looked.
He had demanded that she show him what she was doing and she resisted at first. But he had threatened to tell Daddy about it and she eventually relented. But he had pushed it too far, and made her expose her sweltering cookie to him and show him her rubbing fingers. That hadn't been enough though, since she was too afraid to penetrate herself. So he did it. He told her she was pretty, even her pubic hair, which she had always felt weird about. And he called her Angel. It was such a nice name. She had never even heard anything like that from Daddy.
Uncle Ezra had used the nastiest words, and she had never seen so much sin in a man's eyes, but when he touched her she melted like caramel. He knew exactly what to do, and he rubbed her most sensitive parts. That part, her clit, that he told her about was a little bump that got hard when she got excited. And when he touched it, he filled her with feelings like she had never had before. Instinctually, she knew this was the right way to touch herself. And something certainly happened. A feeling rose inside her with his strokes. It was like an electric current running through her lower half, making her stomach squeeze, her legs shake, and her cookie explode with wetness and tingles. As he continued, every inhibition and doubt fell away from her.
The thing inside her was like a burning, vibrating light. She winced like she was in pain, and somehow Ezra knew what she was feeling, and told her to "cum for him." How she had not felt absolute disgust from him saying such a thing was still a mystery to her. In fact, cumming for him was what she wanted to do more than anything. And that orgasm slammed through her whole body. It was like her lower body had sprung a leak, and she covered the bed with her fragrance.
At the end, Ezra had been smug, but not unkind. She retreated into the bathroom to get clean. But the shower could only wash away the dirty on the outside.
--
Seeing Mom and Daddy should have been a relief. Ezra had defiled her earlier that day, and she had spent most of the day praying to save her soul. It was hard to believe that Daddy and Ezra were related. He was tall and in good shape. He had blue eyes, but not like Noah Jones's. Daddy's eyes were hard. Mom looked like her, but like a proper woman. She was curvy and buxom next to Candace's girlish body and small chest.
The two of them appeared on her computer screen. She recognized the kitchen, with two chairs scooted together for the two of them. They had started with a prayer, like always led by Daddy. Some days it was like he could see into her soul, like he was God himself. She knew that was sacrilegious, but the thought came unbidden. She wrung her hands under the desk.
Mom always told her she had to smile for family, that a woman's strength was carrying the burden of the family on her back. The most virtuous women never even let on that they were distressed or in pain or struggling. That's why families needed women, even though men were in charge. So she put on her best face, not letting anything uncle Ezra had done, or any way it made her feel, show through.
"So how are things working out with your uncle?" Mom asked.
Daddy tried to hide the change in his face. He was never any good at it. "He's different than I expected," she said. She had expected Ezra to be both tougher and softer than he actually was. Daddy talked like Ezra was some kind of creampuff, and laughed about beating him up as a kid. Though he wasn't as big and strong as daddy was, he seemed like a normal man. With all the talk about sin and apostasy, she expected him to be some kind of satyr, saturated with sin and debauchery. But he was easier than Daddy was, and could get her to listen better than Mom could. She didn't think men had that power of words the way women did. "He's been nice to me so far, even if I'm not used to him."
