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The year my dad’s brother came to live with us was the best year of my life. It was the year I was just beginning to understand my own sexuality. I’d known the biological functions for a long time but I was just beginning to explore the complex longings of my body and those fantasies that fogged my head both night and day.

I’d had a few boyfriends whom I’d fooled around with but I was so confused about it all. My friends made such a big deal out of sex, but the times I’d done it hadn’t left me satisfied. I felt there had to be more than the hurried, sweaty groping I’d endured at parties, but I wasn’t sure what that something could be.

My uncle was a fashion photographer living in France and had been offered a great job in the city where we lived. He traveled to stay with us and, upon accepting the job, my parents gladly invited him to stay for as long as he needed. We had plenty of room and they looked forward to spending time with him.

He was older than my dad, single, and very handsome, but the most compelling thing about him was how utterly cool he was. He was worldly and smooth, charismatic and funny. He made jokes I didn’t fully understand but I could sense there was a double meaning to them, something risqué or sexual. He treated me like another adult and I found that incredibly exciting. The way he dressed and the way he spoke, and just about everything else about him made my heart beat faster, left me unable to speak or think. And the more attention he paid me, however innocent it was, the more aroused I felt.

I tried to push those feelings away or at least not think of them in terms of my uncle. He was 30 years older than me and he was my uncle for God’s sake, but sometimes when I crawled in bed at night I’d close my eyes and see the tan, lined face of my uncle and feel a surge of excitement like I’d never felt before. I couldn’t stop touching myself and if I’d been perfectly honest, I didn’t really want to stop.

It became immediately apparent that he had this effect on all the women he encountered. While he was living with us, he had dates several nights a week with different women, occasionally staying out all night and returning rumpled but happy the next morning. He’d drink his coffee at the breakfast table with us, laughing easily as if he’d just had a long, restful sleep.

He made sketchy jokes over the orange juice and waffles, jokes that made something stir inside me as I stole peeks at him over my cereal bowl. When he caught my eye, he’d wink a dark brown eye, sending a shiver through my body and a blush creeping up my face.

I would have expected my parents to disapprove of his obvious sexual appetite and easy joking manner (especially in front of me), but not long after he moved in I noticed a change in my parents as well. They seemed friskier with each other, their morning kisses goodbye lasting longer, my father’s hand roaming my mom’s back in an obviously affectionate way.

And more than once I was woken in the middle of the night by the sounds of their lovemaking, soft moans that grew louder and louder as the springs on their bed squeaked in a frantic rhythm. I couldn’t help but feel aroused by the sounds of their passion even if they were my parents. And the knowledge that my handsome uncle slept in the room right next to mine heightened my sense of arousal, leading me to entertain explicit fantasies of being made love to by him.

On Saturdays he worked in a darkroom studio in the city and with my parents away on various errands I often had the house to myself. That’s how I managed to sneak into his bedroom and see his photos without him knowing.

It started innocently enough, I just wondered what his room looked like and I meant to only peek inside, but once I opened the door my curiosity grew. The room smelled vaguely of cologne, of the smell I’d come to associate with my uncle and the feeling being around him gave me and I was surprised to feel a sense of excitement building in me, not just general excitement but sexual excitement, deep down in my belly. I stepped into the darkened room and felt my heart beat faster.

His bed was neatly made and the rest of the room was tidy. On the top of the dresser was a small novel with a French title I couldn’t read, a bottle of aspirin, and a dish that held coins and a couple of keys. I felt a slight sinking feeling of disappointment and realised I’d expected to find something more personal, more revealing. I was about to sneak back out of the room when I spotted a lightbox. It held a dark contact sheet on a cluttered worktable with scattered negatives, lenses and other photographic equipment. I tiptoed over, switched it on, and leaned closer to examine it.

The light revealed many poses of two naked women with long, dark hair. The lighting was strong, the shadows deep, and as I compared the tiny images I found myself growing more and more aroused. In some of the poses the women’s’ bodies were just pressed against each other, or their limbs were tangled so that it wasn’t always immediately rize escort clear where one woman ended and the other began. In others their tongues entwined or their fingers disappeared between their white thighs. Whether they were explicitly sexual or not, they were all certainly sexy.

One picture in particular excited me. The strong light threw the shadow of one woman’s breasts across the belly of the other woman. Just below the shadow of the breasts you could see her curly, dark pubic hair and the beginning of a darker line I assumed must be the slit of her cunt, though it was hard to tell since the image was so small. Why it excited me so, I couldn’t say, but I felt the familiar stirring in my stomach, an ache inside that made me warm.

Just then, I heard the front door close and in a panic fled back to my room. My heart was hammering and I could feel the wetness between my legs. In my mind I couldn’t stop seeing the women’s’ breasts and faces, their mouths locked and their legs and arms all tangled. It was a world of sensuality I’d never contemplated and I was a little surprised to find it so exciting. Or maybe it was the knowledge that these were the sorts of photos my uncle was taking, that he was the one who captured the images in the first place. That was undeniably arousing.

I started to sneak into his room every chance I got and every time I did I went straight to the lightbox and stared. For a while it was that same contact sheet of the two dark haired women and then a man joined the images and it began to grow more and more explicit each time I went in to spy.

They were all very artistic but I began to see more open legs, swollen, spread labia, then a hard cock, grasping fingers, and finally explicit close-ups of intercourse with strong, dark shadows turning the shapes into abstract patterns. It was dizzying to me, the mystery of it all, these tiny images in strong black and white, and the knowledge that it was my uncle who’d taken the photos.

My uncle started spending more time in the darkroom studio, which gave me many opportunities to sneak into his room. I thought at the time this was just lucky but I learned later he knew all along I’d been sneaking in and looking at the pictures. He knew and he started baiting me with more and more erotic images so I’d be sure to come back.

Around the same time I caught him looking at me in a very different way and making jokes with me that bordered on inappropriate. A casual chat with him had always left me slightly breathless but now I was aware of his sly smiles and his eyes that lingered on my breasts. All of this left me in a state of almost constant arousal. I touched myself every night and thought about sex almost exclusively, indulging in fantasies of being photographed, stroked, and fucked by my uncle.

I can only guess that the intoxicating effect the images had on my head was what kept me from hearing the front door close and the sound of my uncle’s footsteps down the hall. That, or it’s possible he was extra quiet and had hoped to find me there. Whatever happened, that’s where he found me, very aroused, my nose close to the glowing light, my fingers tracing circles on my nipples through the fabric of my shirt, my breathing getting quicker.

I did hear the bedroom door close. I turned suddenly to find him standing with his back against it, cool as can be, smiling slightly, one finger to his lips in an unmistakable gesture of quiet. I said nothing, my heart stuck in my throat, as I watched him slowly cross the room toward me. He touched my upper arm in a way that seemed almost parental, and whispered, soothingly, “It’s ok.”

I stiffened but didn’t move. His eyes moved across my face but I couldn’t name the expression in them. He was calm and composed as his hand dropped from my arm and his eyes dropped to my breasts, sweeping down the length of my body. I tried to swallow or breathe but I couldn’t. I just waited and watched him looking me over.

He stepped back a bit, meeting my eyes again, then moved just past me, leaning toward the lightbox. His eyes skipped from square to square, and a slight smile played on his lips. I felt myself blush. As he studied the images I felt as if he was looking at me, at my nudity on display for him. I felt even more revealed than I had when he first walked in.

“These are a few months old.” he said, still staring at the contact sheet. “Would you like to see my more recent work?”

He turned to face me, completely calm, as if he was simply sharing his portfolio with me. As if these were holiday snaps of his trip to Venice and not at all pornographic. The slight smile was there, playing on his lips, but his face was benevolent, open and kind. I heard myself try to speak but I don’t know if I said yes or no, if I said anything at all.

He pulled an envelope from the top of the worktable and replaced the contact sheet with another. He stepped back and indicated that I should look. I hesitated, not sure what to do, but his hand on my shoulder bostnews.com moved me gently forward and I felt myself drawn in, my heart beating hard as I leaned closer to the images, slowly letting them come into focus.

A dark-haired woman sat in a chair in the first shot. And as I viewed each photo in sequence, she gradually undressed herself, her legs spread and her black skirt crept up and up. Her painted nails were dark against her thighs. Her skin seemed impossibly smooth. She parted the darkness of her pubic hair to show plump and glistening labia as the camera moved closer, framing her in different ways.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” I heard him ask, his voice just at my shoulder. “She’s usually very shy but she loves to be watched like this.” His fingers slid above the surface of the lightbox, following the progress of the shots, the progress of her hands as they moved down between her legs.

“She comes alive in front of the camera.” he murmured and I felt a sudden faintness at the closeness of his body, the power of my arousal.

His finger stopped on one shot, the woman’s hands on either side of her pussy, the light just catching the curve of her pussy lips, the rest in blackest shadow. There was much more hidden than shown in that shot but it was undeniably erotic, showing her shyness and desire all at once.

My uncle removed the contact sheet and replaced it with another of the same woman, a continuation of the last series I supposed. These pictures all focused closely on her pussy, her dark-painted fingernails and her pale, thin fingers as they explored the folds of her cunt.

“She is so beautiful when she touches herself.” he whispered. I could feel that he’d moved closer, just barely touching me, his mouth nearer to my ear. His voice went straight to my spine, sending electric currents through my whole body. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I wondered where it was going.

“I love to watch a woman please herself.” he said. “And I love that you’ve been sneaking in here to do just that.” At this point, his hands touched my shoulders and I felt him press against me from behind. I steadied myself against the edge of the table and held my breath. His hands moved slowly down my arms then around to my waist where they roamed just a little, stroking the upper curve of my hips.

“I’m sorry I interrupted you this time but you looked so beautiful standing there, I couldn’t help myself.” he whispered as his hands moved upward in wide, slow circles, inching their way to my breasts. I heard myself gasp a little as I realised what he’d said.

This time?

Had he watched me before? From the doorway? Had he seen me in my room? I felt a surge of excitement and fear at the idea of him spying on me. I must have lurched a bit in my surprise and he took it as an indication of arousal, for he pressed his pelvis a bit harder against me and his hands dipped low and pulled the fabric of my shirt up over my breasts in one swift motion.

Maybe I could have stopped him just then but instead I pressed my ass against him and watched his expert fingers unfasten the bra closure without hesitation. In an instant my bra was opened and my uncle’s warm, tan hands covered my breasts, clutching them tight. He gave a little moan, like a quiet hum, and somewhere deep in my belly I felt an ache like I’d never felt before.

I didn’t care anymore that he was my uncle, or that he was so much older than me. His hands on my body had an overpowering effect on me and I do believe I would have let him do almost anything at that point, I was so aroused.

His hands moved off my breasts and slid upward, pushing the fabric of my bra and shirt up under my chin. I looked down at my naked breasts, the pale glow of the lightbox illuminating them from below.

“Look how beautiful you are.” he whispered as we stared together, our bodies pressed close and held perfectly still. My nipples were hard and small and looked so dark in the shadowy room. I arched my back and marveled at how beautiful I looked, how sensual and erotic the sight of my own naked tits was to me. I loved that he was looking too.

When he whispered, “Touch them.” I didn’t hesitate. I wanted this more than anything, to be seen like this by my uncle. I wanted to touch myself and know his eyes were following my every move. I’d had no idea that desire was within me but his rich, soft voice brought it to life and I found my hand rising obediently toward my breasts.

I cupped them gently then began to trace wide circle on them, all around my nipples but never touching them directly. I could hear him sighing as I moved my fingertips all around the flesh of my breasts, inching closer to my nipples then pulling away. I felt a stab of fear. I knew once I touched them, there’d be no turning back.

The knowledge that my uncle was watching closely, that he found this so erotic, that the heat and hardness against my lower back was his growing cock, urged me on. I let my fingertips graze both nipples at the same time and shuddered at the sensation. I increased the pressure and felt a jolt of excitement flow through my body. I pressed against my uncle’s body and started to stroke my nipples with my fingertips in a slow, circular motion.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, his lips against my ear. I heard myself answer in a strangled voice, and a sudden cry of desire erupted from my throat as I stroked myself harder, my arousal building fast. “Ohh yes… it does.” I couldn’t help but moan.

“How beautiful you are,” he murmured as one of his hands moved down and deftly unfastened the front of my jeans. Things were moving so fast and my arousal was so intense I knew there was no way to stop this.

I felt such an urge to cry as his hand slid lower, as his breath touched my ear and he whispered, “Such perfect breasts.” His hand slid down into the front of my waistband of my jeans, then my underwear, and soon his palm was inching toward my cunt, moving so slowly I could barely stand it.

“And I know your pussy is just as beautiful,” he whispered as his fingers slid into my pubic hair. “I’ve seen you in your bed.” he said slowly, as his hand slid between my thighs with ease. “Your pussy is so beautiful.” he said as his fingertips pressed against the wet, outer lips of my cunt.

I groaned and closed my eyes, fully aware that my uncle had his hand on my cunt. This was real, not a fantasy. I pinched my nipples and imagined his eye behind the camera, his excitement growing as I got closer and closer to an orgasm. I’d imagined this a hundred times but the real touch of his hand on my cunt was better than anything I could’ve dreamed. My moans grew louder as his fingers slid between my wet pussy lips and began stroking me gently.

“My God… you’re so soft and wet.” he said as his fingers stroked faster, sliding all around the entrance to my cunt. When his thumb touched my clit I jumped, my moans almost turning to pleading wails, and squeezed my breasts in my hands as hard as I could. I was nearly panting, on the verge of an orgasm like I’d never known before.

I’d come with other boys before, but not even the best or strongest one could compare with how I felt right now, on the edge of coming. No cock had ever brought me to such heights of arousal as this. Nothing could compare.

I heard my voice as if from a distance, “Ohhh. I’m going to come.” It sounded rough with a mix of panic and desire as I stroked my nipples in rhythm with his experienced fingers. I didn’t want it to end, but I wanted so badly to come like this, with him close and watching.

I heard him whisper, “Open your eyes,” and when I did he had moved slightly to the side of me and was studying my face carefully. He looked so handsome to me just then. Strong and gentle, but undeniably desirable, undeniably sexy. And judging from the look on that handsome face, he found me just as desirable, just as sexy.

He changed the angle of his wrist and began rapidly and firmly stroking my clit, his eyes moving from my flushed face to my naked breasts and back again. “Oh God…” he whispered, “you’re so beautiful.”

His voice was like another hand touching me. It poured over me and as I stared into my uncle’s eyes I felt the urgent pressure inside my cunt. I said it again, “I’m going to come.” and felt his fingers press into me, sliding deeper and deeper inside. The feeling of being entered was incredible and I couldn’t help but grind myself against his hand, wanting more of him inside me.

I glanced at his face, then the contact sheet on the lightbox, then my own pale breasts and puckered nipples and my fingers working like mad. I looked at his face, the intensity there, and the slight movement of his arm against my belly as he brought me closer and closer to coming. It was more than I could bear. I let out a groan and pinched my nipples hard, grinding against the hand between my legs.

“That’s it.” he whispered as I moved against him, the ache like pain inside my cunt just about to break. “I want to see you come,” he coaxed, allowing his thumb to find my clit again. “I want to feel it around my fingers.” His face was intense, his eyes wide, and I heard myself panting and crying as the walls of my cunt clutched and throbbed.

I had to let go of my breasts to steady myself against the edge of the table and my uncle caught my waist with his free hand. In this way his fingers slid deeper inside me and my whole body shook. I felt my eyes fill with tears as waves of pleasure moved through me. He moved his hand just slightly, coaxing a few more contractions from my cunt, and then he withdrew his fingers and laid his palm against my outer pussy lips.

I was weak and dizzy, exhausted like I’d run a mile, and as my uncle slid his wet fingers from between my legs, I let the tears spill down my face.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, seeing my tears. I shook my head but more tears spilled over my cheeks. I’d been overcome by the sensations, by the intensity of the pleasure and the freedom I’d felt touching myself while he watched. I tried to explain through my tears but I didn’t really understand it either, so I just cried and whispered, “It was beautiful.”

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