by Lexi Wood
Taboo Summer
So much has happened since that first summer I spent with Uncle Virgil.
Where to begin?
Would you rather know what persuaded me to make love to my own uncle? Or would you prefer to hear why we decided we could never do it again? Or what’s happened more recently, that convinced me to dive back in?
How about I start from the beginning, huh?
My Aunt Lucy and Uncle Virgil have this great cabin we all used to visit during the summer—me, my brothers, my cousins who were a few years older than the rest of us. The cabin only had one bedroom, and that was reserved for my aunt and uncle. We kids all slept in sleeping bags on the floor of the main room. It was like having a sleepover every night.
We loved it—when we were little, that is.
By the time you’re a preteen, you want your privacy. That’s when we stopped wanting to spend our summers at the cabin. Still, I had tons of happy childhood memories about the place.
I’d just turned eighteen when my aunt called my mom to ask if I was looking for a summer job. For years, my cousin used to work at the fry shop by the marina. Now that he was finished college and looking for a “real job” he didn’t want to do it anymore.
Aunt Lucy said I could sleep at the cabin all summer long, if I wanted to. My aunt and uncle usually only came up on weekends, and for one week during their holidays from work. The rest of the time it would be just me.
I jumped at the chance. It was the perfect opportunity to get away from my parents for the summer, and also earn a little spending money
Even though my summer job was all about working the deep fryer, I really liked doing it. I came home smelling like I’d been dipped in hot oil, but that didn’t matter, since there wasn’t usually anyone at the cabin when I got home from work.
That’s why my heart started racing when I walked up one Thursday night to find the lights on. Had I left them like that? No, of course not. I never turned on the lights in the morning. The cabin was so bright and sunny when I woke up for work that I didn’t need any lights.
I crept closer to my aunt and uncle’s summer place, and peeked through the window. Thank the lord, it was only Uncle Virgil. He was sitting at the table eating cheese and crackers, staring into oblivion. He didn’t even notice me watching from outside.
When I opened the door, I pretended to be surprised. “Oh, hi, Uncle Virgil. What are you doing here on a Thursday? Taking a long weekend off work?”
“I suppose you could say that,” he replied.
“Is Aunt Lucy up, too?”
“No, she stayed in the city,” he told me.
“She couldn’t get tomorrow off?” I asked.
Gloomily, he looked down at his cheese. “I don’t think she even tried.”
When he didn’t say anything more, I set my bag on a chair. “Well, I’m going to hop in the shower, if you don’t mind—get some of this French fry stink out of my hair.”
He made no reply. It’s like he didn’t fully realize I was there.
Usually, after washing my hair at night, I’d just coast through the cabin in a towel. Sometimes, when it was so hot the fan couldn’t keep down the heat, I didn’t get dressed at all. I just jumped into bed with my little butt bare.
But when Aunt Lucy and Uncle Virgil were at the cabin, I always put on clothes before coming out of the bathroom. That night, I changed right into a pair of soft cotton pyjamas: a sleeveless top and sweet little pants that only reached mid-calf on me. I never wore a bra to bed, but since the air in the cabin was fairly warm, I was confident my nipples wouldn’t get pointy.
When I came out from my shower, my uncle was still sitting at the table. Sitting and staring. That’s when I asked him, “Uncle Virgil, is everything okay?”
I threw my bag off the chair and sat opposite him so we could have a good talk, but he didn’t seem to want to look at me. Staring at his cheese cubes, which were starting to get hard, he said, “I was let go from my job, Sinclair.”
The first thought that crossed my mind was: Maybe he’ll want mine. How ridiculous was that? My uncle was some kind of professional. He’d look for another executive position, obviously.
“I’m really sorry,” I said. “Was it, like, downsizing? That sort of thing?”
He nodded slowly. “They said the merger wouldn’t impact our jobs. Everything would go on, status quo. And then a new management team comes in and decides there’s too much redundancy at the executive level. Off with our heads.”
I reached out to touch his hand, which wasn’t the sort of thing I’d normally do—we weren’t a touchy-feely family—but the moment seemed to call for a little tenderness, you know?
Anyway, he didn’t seem to feel my touch. He didn’t acknowledge me in any way.
“Lucy’s on the warpath,” my uncle went on. “She’s about ready to sue. Not me.”
“You’re not angry about losing your job?”
He shook his head, screwed up his lips and his nose like anger was a bad smell. “I just need a little… I don’t know… peace and quiet?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Do you want me to leave?”
Where would I go?
But he said, “No, no. It’s nice, having someone around who’ll just… listen. Listen and not try to control the situation. Lucy always needs to control everything. That’s not what I need right now.”
He looked at his hand, and seemed to notice for the first time that mine was sitting on it. He smiled gently, and then placed his other hand on top of mine. It felt cold and dry. My poor uncle. He wasn’t a blood relative, but that didn’t matter. I’d known him all my life. There was so little distinction, when it came to family.
I asked, “Why don’t I put on one of the records we used to listen to, years ago?”
I was hoping he’d choose something upbeat, like Elvis, which we used to dance to as kids. He asked me to put on Simon and Garfunkel, which couldn’t be more depressing. Oh well. He was the one who’d lost his job. He got to choose the music.
The record he wanted was tucked away in a milk crate. Once I’d found it, I lifted the lid on the player, set the vinyl on the turntable, powered up, and lifted the needle. Then, I set it down as gently as I could. It had been ages since I’d done this. We didn’t have a record player at home.
My uncle moved to the sofa, where I’d have to sleep that night, since he was here to take over the bedroom.
When he closed his eyes, I sat beside him. Real close. I was taking a chance, I knew, because we never usually touched each other in my family, but I could feel the sadness coming off him in waves. I knew he needed a hug. The closest I could manage was to wrap both my arms around his and set my head on his shoulder.
He flinched and I apologized, but he chuckled and said, “Your hair is wet. It tickled my neck.”
“Oh.” I smiled and looked up at him.
He looked down at me.
We stayed that way for a long time.
A dangerously long time.
Me looking up.
Him looking down.
You weren’t supposed to look at a family member that way.
Exploring.
Watching, silently.
Wondering if he’s going to make the first move, or if you should take a chance.
If he isn’t thinking what you’re thinking, your whole world could explode.
But if he is…
I did the only thing that felt safe in that moment: I closed my eyes.
Maybe that wasn’t so safe after all, because as soon as my eyes were closed, my uncle’s lips met mine.
Did I kiss him or did he kiss me?
Did it even matter?
Once that kiss started, there was no turning back. I wrapped my arms around his neck and soon I felt his hand resting gently on my hip. It didn’t feel so cold anymore. In fact, I felt his body heat through my cotton pyjama pants.
I just kept kissing him while Simon and Garfunkel played in the background.
We kissed forever.
Honestly, I’d never kissed anyone for so long. It could be that my uncle was too nervous to make the next move. Maybe he could tell that I was a virgin. Or maybe he was just soaking up every last moment of this amazing kiss, same as me.
What I loved about our kiss was that is was slow and sensual. I hadn’t kissed a lot of boys, but the ones I did always seemed to want to bite my face off. My uncle wasn’t like that. Not at all. He slanted his mouth across mine. His tongue undulated inside me. It felt so good that my nether regions swelled. I’d never felt so hot or so wet down there.
I’d never wanted sex so badly.
I didn’t even care that this was my uncle I was kissing.
If what we were doing was wrong and bad, so what? He needed it.
And so did I.
After a while—a long while—I noticed my uncle was leaning me backwards, pressing me down on the couch. The back of my head met the quilted throw cushion against the armrest, and my body ended up flat on the couch beneath his.
I didn’t open my eyes to see what was going on. I trusted him. And, anyway, I didn’t want the kissing to stop.
One of his arms wrapped fully around me, around my back. His chest pressed against mine. He had to raise himself up so his other hand could find its way under my top.
When his hand rode up my belly, I thought I might pass out. When he touched my breast for the first time, I nearly had an orgasm. You think I’m exaggerating, but I’m not. I’d never done this before. No one had ever touched me that way, under my clothes, warm hand on a bare breast. I never imagined how good it would feel.
Girls don’t talk about getting felt up. They talk about fucking, but not about getting their breasts touched. Maybe I was more sensitive than other women. Or maybe I just wasn’t used to it yet. It was my first time, after all.
“Do you want to go ahead with this?” my uncle asked.
I knew he was talking about sex, about having sex together, and I wouldn’t have said no if you paid me a million dollars. My body was so ready, so slick and swollen.
I wasn’t even scared that it would hurt.
I knew it wouldn’t.
Not with him.
He kept kissing me, but he had to stop touching my breast so he could slip his hand down to undo his fly. I didn’t know what to do, so I didn’t do anything, just kept kissing my uncle as he brought out his erection.
My cotton pyjamas had an elastic waist, so it was easy for him to tug down the front, but I had to spread my legs a touch and also raise my hips.
I was glad my hair and my body smelled fruity from the shower, not oily from the fry shop. I’d be so embarrassed if I smelled weird my first time having sex. Although I don’t think my uncle would have minded too much.
He was lost in sadness, and the only cure was me.
When he slipped his erection between my slick lips, I inhaled so sharply it sucked the air out of his lungs. We breathed through one another as he slid inside me, slowly, taking his time, like he knew how much this meant. Or maybe my vagina was just tighter than the one he was used to.
Not that I wanted to think about my aunt’s vagina at a time like this.
It didn’t hurt. I was right about that. I was so hot and wet and ready that my uncle was able to slip inside me, virgin or not. I hoped he couldn’t tell. In that moment, I didn’t want him to know I’d never had sex before.
If he knew, he might stop.
And I definitely didn’t want him to stop.
The pressure of his body on mine pushed me down, into the couch. I was sinking beneath him, and I didn’t mind a bit. As long as my uncle kept kissing me and making love to me, everything was fine. What I didn’t want was for him to break away and ask, “What are we doing?”
I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I didn’t want him to, either.
As my uncle moved inside me, I found myself thinking it was too bad he had all his clothes on, and I had on my soft cotton pyjamas, too. I would have loved to feel his skin on my skin. I bet he was super-hot under that polo shirt.
I was definitely overheating underneath him.
Since I’d never had sex before, I wasn’t sure how long it was supposed to last. Uncle Virgil was really giving it to me. He’d started out all nice and gentle, but the more I moved beneath him, the harder he thrust. When he started slamming his hard-on inside me, I couldn’t keep quiet. I didn’t want to make a lot of noise, because I thought it would be embarrassing, but when I actually started moaning and groaning, my uncle really seemed to appreciate it.
So I stopped trying to keep quiet.
I moaned in his mouth as he kissed me.
He went at me hard, squeezing my breast as he planted himself inside my body. He worked up speed, got faster and faster, made me scream like crazy… and then, all at once, he stopped.
At the time, I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t realize he was coming. I stopped bucking my hips, but only because he had stopped. As exhausted as I was—as out of breath and dehydrated—I could have kept going for hours.
I could have kept going all night.
With his cock planted firmly inside me, my uncle fell asleep on me on the couch. His body settled heavily on top of mine, but that was okay. I wanted him there, on me and in me. I wouldn’t have asked him to move. Not for anything.
When I woke up the next morning, Uncle Virgil was up and showered and cooking us breakfast. He didn’t mention what we’d done the night before, so I didn’t mention it either.
I couldn’t stop thinking about it, though.
At work, I nearly burned myself about forty times. I couldn’t concentrate. At all. I couldn’t stop wondering whether my uncle had really fucked me, or if it had all been a dream.
After work, I came home and jumped in the shower, as usual. There wasn’t a lock on the bathroom door, but I was still pretty surprised when my uncle slipped inside. He must have undressed in the bedroom, because by the time he slid the shower curtain aside to join me, he was 100% naked.
I’d slept with him the night before, and this was the first time I was seeing him in the buff. There was something kind of funny about that.
But there was nothing at all funny about my uncle’s fit body. He’d obviously been hitting the gym. Maybe a midlife crisis thing, who knows? He had a swimmer’s body, and his abs were ripped. There was no shame sleeping with an older man if he looked like my uncle.
“Touch it,” he said, and I knew he meant his dick.
Even though I wasn’t technically a virgin after having sex with him last night, I’d still never wrapped my fingers around any man’s cock. As the shower needled my back, I reached for my uncle’s erection. When I touched it, it jumped, and I jumped too. Uncle Virgil didn’t laugh, even though I’d been scared by his cock. I didn’t know they moved on their own like that.
Uncle Virgil wrapped his thumb and index finger around the base of his cock to steady it. Then he said, “Try again. There’s no need to be afraid.”
I couldn’t look him in the eye. I was too embarrassed by my reaction.
But I did try again. I circled my thumb and index finger around his cock, midway down the shaft. It wagged again, but not so wildly this time.
“That’s right,” he said. “Now pull towards you. You’ll feel the skin come along, when you do.”
I didn’t know what he meant until I tried it for myself. When I stroked my uncle’s dick, the skin did move. It was like there was solid steel bar inside, with a layer of silky smooth skin on the outside. Wow. I never would have imagined that’s what a penis felt like, when you touched it.
I never would have guessed.
When I kept pulling, my uncle took a small step closer. It was enough to close the gap between us. Suddenly, the fat red tip of Uncle Virgil’s swollen cock swept across my belly, making me jump back again. That thing really had a mind of its own. I couldn’t get over it. And I also couldn’t believe how hot it was!
; The shower at the cabin never got super-steamy anyway, and the warm water didn’t last forever, so I turned around and shut it off.
“What are you doing?” my uncle asked.
I said, “I don’t want to waste water.”
That made him growl, goodness knows why. Maybe he was turned on by frugality. Or maybe he was just turned on by my wet little body. Either way, he pressed me down on my knees, so my face was right at the level of his cock.
He didn’t ask me whether I’d sucked one before, but I think he knew the answer. He tilted my head into the perfect position and guided his clean cock into my mouth. I didn’t resist. I wanted to try it. All I could hope was that I wouldn’t be so bad at it that he called the whole thing off.