TAKING MY UNCLE’S COCK (2)

Lara’s POV

My voice came out so quiet I could hardly hear it myself. “Sometimes I wish somebody would show me… so I don’t feel like I’m on my own.”

The cabin fell quiet except for the hum of the ceiling fan and the distant roar of the ocean. My heart beat so loud that I could hear nothing else. My nipples were hard and sore against my oversized t-shirt. From just saying the words out loud, my panties felt slick and clinging. From the distance of just inches from him.

For a very long and dark moment, David looked at me. He then made a low, gentle chuckle, and rubbed the back of his neck, his bicep curling impressively. “Lara… that’s not the kind of thing you should be asking your uncle.”

“I know,” I said in a hurry, embarrassed, looking at my hands. “Forget I said anything. It was stupid.”

But I couldn’t forget how my body felt. I pressed my thighs together under the pillow I’d pulled onto my lap, trying to hide the way I was squirming. The mental list I’d rehearsed for this trip … the controlled, quiet days … was already unraveling. I did not expect to be the one asking her uncle to give me this.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, bringing him closer. His dark eyes were serious, but there was a deeper, darker glow. “Boys your age don't know shit anyway,” he mumbled lightly, trying to keep it casual. “They rush everything, kiss like if they were running a race, touch like it's the first time they have ever seen a woman.”

I raised my eyes to his and peeked up at him, but I couldn't look away, though I was shy. “And you… don’t rush?”

The question hung between us, thick and dangerous.

David looked at my lips for a second longer, then the straps of my t-shirt around my chest. He cleared his throat, laughed it off, but I saw his body language change. “Watch out, kitty, you may get yourself into trouble if you ask such questions.”

He didn't sound angry. He sounded intrigued.

I turned myself on the couch, my mind still playing with the idea of his sweaty, muscular skin pressed against mine, his strong hands skimming under my blouse, teaching me slowly, patiently. What would it feel like in his mouth? Will he be tender initially or will that flirtatious confidence become commanding? My clit was getting hard thinking about them.

Baby Max made a small cooing sound from the cot but quickly settled back into sleep. The moment stretched, heavy with possibility.

Slowly David rose and stretched his arms reaching high, displaying every ridge and plane of his torso. His swim trunks were too low, and showed the outline of his hips and what was underneath. I quickly turned away, my red face, but not soon enough to forget what I saw.

“You know what?” he asked, his voice taking on its old lightness, as if we hadn't just danced around something filthy. “Let’s make some lunch. Then tonight after Max is down for the night, we can watch a movie or something. Sound good?”

I nodded, standing up on shaky legs. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

But cabin kitchen was not designed for two people.

I knew this the moment Uncle David decided to help with lunch, because suddenly every surface felt half its size and every movement required space with a man who was still, notably, shirtless.

I had decided not to mention the shirtless thing.

This was a mistake.

Because now I was chopping tomatoes with my back mostly to him and I could still feel the warmth radiating off his skin from two feet away like the man generated his own weather system. The ceiling fan was doing absolutely nothing making me very warm.

“You’re holding the knife wrong,” he murmured from behind my shoulder.

“I’ve been making sandwiches since I was eight.”

“And cutting yourself since then too probably.”

He stepped closer and reached around me to correct my grip, his chest fully touching my back, his hand wrapping briefly over mine on the handle. His skin was warm and his fingers were certain and my brain went completely offline.

“Like that,” he corrected, stepping back like nothing had happened.

I stared at the tomato.

He is your uncle, I reminded myself.

My hands were not completely steady for the rest of lunch preparation.

We ate on the couch with the fan overhead and Max sleeping peacefully in his cot. The conversation flowed the way it always did with David, easy and warm, the kind of talking that never needed to try hard. But I was quieter than usual and he noticed the way he always noticed things about me, without making a production of it.

Afterward, David checked on Max while I cleared plates. The little one was still sleeping peacefully. The cabin felt quieter, more intimate. David sat closer on the couch this time, his bare thigh pressing warm against mine. The contact sent fresh heat straight to my core.

“Hey, are you alright, Lara?” he asked, voice relaxed but laced with worry. “You got quieter after lunch.”

I picked at my soda label. The group chat notifications from last week came back uninvited. Still a virgin Lara? Honestly at this point it’s your personality. The laughing emojis. The way everyone piled on because it was easier than defending me.

“My friends tease me,” I said quietly. “About being inexperienced.” I kept my eyes down. “They think it’s funny. Like my whole personality is just being careful and boring and left behind while everyone else figures things out.”

My throat tightened unexpectedly. The tears arrived without permission.

I quickly wiped them away, embarrassed.

David put his drink down. He shifted toward me on the couch and his bare thigh pressed warm against mine and neither of us moved away from it. He did not give empty comfort or shift the discussion. He just regarded me with his dark eyes, always making me feel like I was saying the only thing they could listen to.

“Hey, princess… I don't want you to cry,” he whispered. “Those friends sound like assholes. You’re not stupid. You’re smart. Careful. That’s a good thing in this world.”

“You have to say that.”

“I don’t actually.” The corner of his mouth rose slightly. “You know me: I don't say what I don't mean.”

He sat down closer than I had remembered, on the sofa, his arm along the back of it, behind my shoulders but not touching. I felt his eyes scan over my face slowly and I couldn't place how he was viewing me. Not teasing. Something quieter and more deliberate that made my heart rate do something embarrassing.

I couldn't blink away. The air between us was thick and electric, as if before a storm.

“Those boys at your school,” he said, his voice carefully casual again. “They don’t deserve the first anything from you.”

My heart was pounding so hard I felt he must have heard it.

He had seen my face.

My mouth had been his first look and then he looked away as if he were mad at himself for having looked at it.

I slept through the wet lashes, saw his bare chest rise and fall, his strong shoulders so capable. “But I don’t want to be careful anymore. I want to know things. Feel things.” My heart was pounding hard. “Please… can you teach me how to kiss? Just once. I trust you. You won’t laugh at me like those idiotic boys.”

The air thickened. David's eyes became large and then got dark. He breathed raggedly, scratching his stubble. “Kitty… this is dangerous talk. I’m your uncle.”

“I know,” I whispered, trembling but firm. “But I feel safe with you. No strings. Like how you flirt with others. Just… teach me. Please?”

He stayed silent a long time, the fan whirring overhead. Finally, his shoulders sagged. “One kiss. Just to show you. Then we forget this ever happened. Okay?”

I nodded rapidly. “Okay.”

He bent slowly, giving me time to pull away. His large hand cupped my cheek, warm and slightly rough. His lips touched mine… soft at first, sparking light through my body straight to my core. I gasped into his mouth. He pulled back slightly, searched my eyes, then kissed me deeper. His lips were firm, leading with patient assurance. When his tongue grazed mine, I moaned softly. The sound shocked us both.

The kiss intensified. My hands found his bare chest, warm and solid over hard muscle. I shifted closer. My palm brushed the thick, hard bulge straining his swim trunks.

I pulled back, eyes wide. “Uncle David… what is that?”