My Uncle’s addiction 2

I woke up soaked between the legs, throat dry, chest tight. The image of him stroking his cock burned behind my eyelids like an afterimage of lightning. No matter how many times I blinked, it stayed. Hard. Unforgiving. Beautiful.

I should have felt shame. I didn’t.

Instead, I rolled onto my stomach, pressed my thighs together, and bit into the pillow until my teeth ached. I didn’t touch myself. Not because I didn’t want to, but because the ache had become something more than physical. It was in my head now, in my spine, in the tension of my own restraint. I wanted him to break it.

I stayed in bed longer than I should have, delaying the inevitable. Eventually, I got up, threw on a loose shirt that barely reached the tops of my thighs, and padded barefoot down to the kitchen. The house was too quiet, as always.

He was already there. At the counter. Black shirt rolled up at the sleeves. No tie. Barefoot. Reading something on his phone, coffee steaming beside him.

His eyes lifted slowly w