Free Uncle Ed's Lap by Parker Ford Page B

train, being spoiled by Aunt Carole and Uncle Ed. They had no children of their own so they spoiled me rottenzoo trips, the pool, movies, dinners out. It was always the highlight of my time off from school.
    Back in their large Connecticut home, I felt safe and secure and loved. I brushed my teeth, trying to remember all the things I needed to get for college. If I thought about starting classes and dorm life too much I got so nervous I couldn't sleep, so I pushed the thoughts away. It was just nerves and nerves were normal.
    I shut the light off and the tiny nightlight sprang to life. I smoothed my nightgown down, heart pounding. I refused to think about what had happened earlier. I had a lot in my head, surely it had been my imagination.
    I tried to tiptoe on the hardwood floor. The house was so quiet and it was so late, I could only assume I was the only one up. And uncle Ed had to get up early for work. Construction crews were like roosters he'd say, greeting the day before the sun did.
    As usual, the floor squeaked as I passed the master suite. I froze, not wanting to wake him. He'd been sleeping poorly since aunt Carole died, the least I could do was be quiet. I stayed that way, waiting to make sure I hadn't disturbed him. I heard a soft whispery sound and breathing. Not mine. My heart pounded in my ears and I knew I should keep going. I shouldn't be a nosy parker as my mother said, but I waited anyway. The sound increased as did the breathing. I peeked around the edge of the door and my eyes fought to focus in the dark.
    “Oh,” my uncle said. So soft that no one should be able to hear. No one expect the person spying from the doorway. “Oh, god.”
    He was jacking off. I bit my lip, I should look away. I didn't. Instead, I steadied myself with a hand on the door jam. This was normal, I told myself. A man had needs. A man who has just lost his wife is still a man. My hand, seemingly possessed, crept up under my nightgown. I felt the warm fluid already sliding from me. The tops of my thighs trembled like I had a fever. I touched my clit with shaking fingers as I watched him.
    He nearly looked to be wrestling with himself. Like he didn't want to do this but had to. The moonlight leaking in the old glazed window panes illuminated him in milky shadows. His big hand slid up and down the length of his cock, his face set, eyes closed tightly. His hips pistoned up and down as he fucked the hole made by his own fist. The white linen sheets nearly glowed in the moonlight.
    Oh godI should goI should. Instead I slipped my fingers into my pussy and pressed and pressed and touched until my womb felt tingly and my knees felt weak. Then I spread my wetness around my clit, running hard fast circles with my middle finger. I clutched the door jam and tried not to breathe at all so he wouldn't hear me.
    His movements grew faster, his head tossed one way and then the other. I would have paid a million dollars to know what movie was playing in his head at that moment. My aunt? A playboy bunny? The girl at the hot dog stand who never wore panties? God, dare I hope it? Me?
    I worked myself faster, holding my breath as my uncle sighed. “Oh, fuck.” I saw the shadowed arc of come shoot across his knuckles, watched his lean hips fucking upward off the bed, heard him breathe, “Oh, god, Fiona.”
    And then I gasped and he looked my way.
    I half expected him to come after me and I waited, heart pounding, pussy thumping, for a knock at the door. It didn't come. After a few moments with no relief, I hiked my nightgown up and touched myself. I rubbed circles on my swollen eager clit until I couldn't stand it and used a small bottle of lotion in a cylindrical bottle as a dildo. I hadn't brought a vibrator with me to uncle Ed's it had just seemed weird. My legs pushed wide, hips thrusting up, I fucked myself while rubbing my clit so hard I feared permanent damage.
    My head was full of him. The cut of his jaw, his dark, dark hair. His strong hands