Finger me Marcus 1

Marcus had been in Celine’s life for as long as she could remember. He was her dad’s best friend — basically an uncle to her. He showed up for every birthday, every family barbecue, and every holiday with his warm smile and deep, rumbling laugh. “Uncle Marcus,” her dad would always say, and for years that word made her stomach twist with innocent affection.

But things changed when she turned sixteen.

She started noticing how tall he was, how his shirts stretched across his broad chest, and how his voice dropped to that low, gravelly tone whenever he spoke to her. She also caught him looking. Those quick glances that lingered a second too long on her legs, her developing curves, and her lips. It was lust. Even back then she recognized it, and it made her wet just thinking about it.

Now, at nineteen and home from college for the summer, everything felt different.

Her mom had passed away years ago, so it was just her and her dad. But her father was a hopeless workaholic — always buried in meetings and constantly traveling. The day Celine returned home, Marcus came over to welcome her. He looked even better than she remembered: tanned skin, salt-and-pepper stubble, and strong arms filling out his polo shirt perfectly. Her pussy clenched the instant his eyes met hers and that familiar crooked smile appeared.

That evening, her dad pulled her aside.

“I have to leave for a business trip tomorrow morning. It’ll be at least a week. Marcus said he’ll come stay here and keep you company so you’re not alone in the big house.”

“Uncle Marcus?” Celine whispered, trying to sound casual even as heat flooded between her thighs.

Her dad kissed her forehead. “Take good care of yourself, sweetheart. And don’t worry your uncle too much.” He hugged Marcus tightly, clapped him on the back, and left early the next morning.

The house suddenly felt smaller. More intense. Charged with electricity Celine could almost taste.

She was alone with Marcus.

He found her in the kitchen later that afternoon. She was leaning against the counter in a thin tank top and tiny cotton shorts that barely covered her ass.

“Celine,” he said, his voice warm but careful. “You’ve really grown into a beautiful young woman now.”

“Yes, Marcus,” she answered softly, loving how his name sounded without the “uncle” attached.

She excused herself and went upstairs to her room, heart pounding. She needed him. She had wanted him for years, and now they were under the same roof with no one to interrupt them. She didn’t know exactly how to make it happen… but she would figure it out.

Later that evening, the house smelled incredible — garlic, herbs, and something savory. Marcus had cooked dinner. They ate together at the dining table. He kept glancing at her, concerned.

“You okay? You seem a little nervous tonight.”

“I’m fine,” she lied, smiling sweetly.

After dinner, Celine insisted they watch a movie. She turned off almost all the lights, leaving only the soft glow from the TV. Then she ran upstairs, grabbed her favorite fluffy blanket, and came back down. She chose a steamy romantic comedy full of tension and heated kisses.

She sat right next to him on the big couch, closer than necessary. “It’s freezing in here,” she whispered, even though it wasn’t. “Come under the blanket with me.”

Marcus hesitated for half a second, then joined her. The moment the blanket covered them both, the air between them thickened with tension.

Celine’s mind was spinning. She couldn’t stop the thoughts. She wanted his hands on her so badly.

Before she could overthink it, she reached under the blanket, grabbed his large hand, and boldly slid it into her shorts and panties.

Marcus froze. “Celine… what are you doing?”

“Shhh,” she whispered, her voice already breathy with need.

She pressed his fingers against her clit. She was soaking wet already — embarrassingly wet. She guided his hand, showing him exactly how she wanted to be touched. At the same time, her other hand moved to his lap and found the thick, hard outline of his cock straining against his pants.

He was rock hard.

“Celine, stop… please,” he groaned, but he didn’t pull his hand away.

She didn’t stop.

Instead, she moaned softly as she moved his fingers in slow circles over her swollen clit. “Yes, Marcus… please finger me.”

She spread her legs wider under the blanket, giving him better access. Her fingers wrapped around his thick cock through his pants, stroking him firmly while she controlled his hand between her thighs.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, voice rough and low, his breathing heavier now.

“Yes,” she begged shamelessly, grinding against his fingers. “I want you, Marcus. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

He finally gave in. His fingers started working her on their own — sliding through her slick folds, circling her clit with perfect pressure, then dipping lower to tease her tight entrance.

Celine whimpered, her hand still stroking his throbbing cock. The movie played on, completely forgotten.

Marcus’s fingers moved with growing confidence. Two thick digits slid deep inside her soaked pussy while his thumb rubbed firm circles over her swollen clit. She gasped, her back arching under the blanket as pleasure shot through her.

“Oh god… Marcus…” she moaned, her voice shaky.

He leaned closer, his hot breath on her neck. “You’re so fucking wet, Celine. You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”

She nodded frantically, stroking his massive cock harder through his pants. It felt huge — thick and pulsing in her grip. “Yes… for years. Please don’t stop.”

His fingers curled inside her, hitting that perfect spot over and over. Wet, obscene sounds filled the room beneath the blanket. She spread her legs as wide as possible, shamelessly grinding against his hand. Her juices coated his fingers and dripped down her thighs.

“I need more,” she whispered desperately. “I want you inside me.”

Marcus groaned deeply. In one swift motion, he pulled his hand from her shorts. Before she could whimper at the loss, he stood up, lifted her effortlessly into his arms, and carried her upstairs to her bedroom.

The second the door closed behind them, their mouths crashed together in a hungry kiss. Years of hidden desire exploded at once. His tongue claimed hers while his hands roamed her body — squeezing her ass, sliding under her tank top to pinch her hard nipples. They stripped each other frantically.

When his pants finally came down, his cock sprang free — long, thick, and rock hard, the head glistening with precum.

“Fuck, Marcus… you’re so big,” Celine breathed, wrapping both hands around it.

He pushed her gently onto the bed, yanked her shorts and panties off, and dropped to his knees. He buried his face between her thighs, his tongue lapping up her juices, sucking on her clit, then fucking her with it. She cried out, grabbing his salt-and-pepper hair as her hips bucked against his mouth.

“Yes! Right there… oh fuck, Marcus!”

He sucked her clit hard while sliding two fingers back inside her. Celine came within seconds, thighs shaking around his head, a loud moan tearing from her throat. He kept licking her through it, drinking every drop until she was trembling.

When he finally rose, his chin shiny with her arousal, he climbed over her, his heavy cock resting against her stomach.

“Are you sure, baby?” he asked, voice rough with need. “Once I’m inside you, there’s no going back.”

“I’ve never been more sure,” she said, pulling him down for another deep kiss. “Fuck me, Marcus. Make me yours.”