Uncle John's Bathroom Readers Novels & Stories

"I am sure the family is dying to know the outcome of last night." He chuckled. "I suppose there is no harm in that. After all," he shut me that eerie grin once more. "The real fun is about to start." An involuntary shiver ran down my spine as I watched him head into his bathroom. While he was in there, I looked through his closet and found that the maids were thoughtful enough to bring my clothes over even if they didn't think I would survive. Soon, Rafael stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. The water droplets glistened against his well carved body and I swallowed hard subconsciously.

I knew this was taboo, but I wanted him bad. The laundry room hummed loud with the steady spin cycle. I was already seated right on top of the washing machine, and the intense vibrations pressed hard against my most sensitive spot. It sent electric waves of pleasure shooting through my whole body, making me moan softly. Uncle Mark stood in front of me, his big hands holding me steady. "Look at you, Jenna, sitting there like a good little niece," he said in a low, rough voice. "That machine buzzing on your pussy? Bet it feels real good already."

"Sofia. Daddy is here. Can you talk to your mom for me? Tell her not to do this. I do not want a divorce." Leonardo thought Sofia would soften. Sofia used to be the one who ran to Leonardo every time Leonardo came home, wrapping her arms around Leonardo's legs, calling "Daddy" over and over. But this time, Sofia just stepped half a pace behind me. Quietly, Sofia said, "Uncle Leonardo, you should go take care of your other kid. Do not bother me and my mom anymore." Leonardo went rigid. Leonardo's hand hung in the air. "Sofia, I am your daddy. Why are you calling me uncle?"

“its not your mouth that is saying, I do not see why you are being offended?” I pulled my earphones and plugged them in. The drive to aunt Lisa's house was quiet. I turned to digest what had happened.my uncle had asked me remove my bra and I had. "We are here," he said as he pulled at her house. The house was quite huge. I can't believe she lives here all alone and a chill ran down my spine, I was going to be here with him alone. "we are going to be here for a while.” He muttered more to himself than I.

I swayed gently to my own rhythm and only when I remembered how insane the water bill had been lately did I hasten my shower. In the end, I’d had to dance in the living room—the only mildly spacious spot in the house—and poke fun at hooligans in the street and get into a fight. When I had let out some steam by beating the crap out of them, my mind was finally clear enough to read my uncle’s letter again. I had found it strange in innumerable ways. I made sure Nana was in bed that night before I went to my room and took it out to scan it word for word, this time more carefully. I stopped at the first part.

The hairs on the girl’s forehead were still curly, but she was much more relieved, and her lips even held a smile. “Hubby, let me tell you, my uncle was bragging to me. “He said he’s sick of European things, and there’s no need to bring him anything. “Hmph, I’ve been here for so many days now, but I haven’t gotten sick of it yet. He’s sick of it just from watching television!” Elijah shook his. He pulled her into the bathroom and stripped her, pressing her into the bathtub. “Don’t mind your uncle’s bragging. Take a bath first.”

As I scrunch my face to block the sunlight, a shirtless and well-built man appeared in front of me, closing the curtains. “You’re awake.” Opening my eyes, I almost choked on who I saw— Anderson. Robert’s uncle. I got off the bed quickly as I pulled the sheets to my chest—pretty stupid considering I was dressed— and he chuckled. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” I swallowed as I looked around the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows that gave an immaculate view of the city, a cosy master-sized bed, marbled walls, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a bar in a room— I couldn’t be home.

Izzy asked excitedly, unable to hide the joy in her eyes. “Well, more like a hotel and resort, my uncle owns the place…” Carl replied, which made Izzy even more nervous. “Carl, is this Uncle S.A. or Uncle S.S. the one you keep talking about, is he old?” Izzy couldn’t help but ask, as they were getting into the car waiting for them at the airport. “No, he’s still young, probably around 34 or 35, why?” The anxiety that had troubled Izzy earlier intensified, mixing with fear and concern.

Still smell that maddening vanilla and salt. The heavy oak doors didn't just open; they hit the wall with a hollow thud. I didn’t turn around. I didn't need to. The scent of unearned arrogance and cheap cologne told me exactly which Kingsley had decided to commit suicide tonight. "You’re a hard man to reach, Uncle," Julian snapped. I took a slow, deliberate sip of my drink, watching his reflection in the window. He looked pathetic. His tie was loose, his eyes were wild, and his Alpha aura was leaking out of him like air from a punctured tire. He was desperate.