Caught!

I hadn’t quite gotten up the nerve to take that last step and join the Suicide Girls, but I had bought a pair of black panties that looked like a lacy butterfly nestled in my crotch. And I’d bought a pair of black clunky boots with shiny buckles that made me look tough and mean, like a good Suicide Girl should. Out of all the pictures I’d taken of myself the ones I liked best were the ones where I was naked except for my butterfly panties and my new boots. I was even wearing the boots that day, because I wanted to wear them somewhere other than my bedroom and I figured Uncle Mitch wouldn’t even notice. Silly me.

But the biggest step I had taken on the road to releasing my inner self came after my eighteenth birthday when I had amassed enough cash to go get a tattoo.

It was a gorgeous butterfly about the size of my palm, and all girly colors — pinks and soft greens and pale yellows. Of course, since there was no way my parents would ever forgive me I’d gotten it the one place that they’d never see, even when I was wearing my bikini. My butterfly tattoo was on my ass.

The ass Uncle Mitch was looking at right now.

Oh, God, I was in so much trouble. I’d successfully managed to keep Mom and Dad from seeing it. Hell, I hadn’t even let Billy see it yet.

Nope. Besides me and the tattoo guy the only person who’d seen my little sign of rebellion was Uncle Mitch. The guy holding the leash attached to the collar around my neck. The guy with the swollen dick poking out of his grey pants while he started at my bare ass.

Omigod omigod omigod. I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what I wanted worse. Him to touch me. Or him to leave me alone. I was gonna kill Billy.

“Does your father know about your little butterfly ass?” Uncle Mitch asked, tugging on the leash to remind me that he expected an answer. I felt my face flush, and I knew there was no way my voice would work. I shook my head.

“Didn’t think so,” Uncle Mitch whispered. He palmed my little butterfly ass in his hand and roughly kneaded it as if it was a ball of bread dough, which caused a delicious tugging on my pussy lips. After a second or two my pussy politely and treasonously trickled a drop of ‘come-fuck-me’ juice down the inside of my leg.

I tried not to, but a revealing shudder rippled through my body and I gasped.

Uncle Mitch let go of my ass and climbed a few steps, spreading his feet so his legs straddled mine and the business end of his thick cock was close to my dripping pussy.

I was about to get fucked.

I wanted to stop him, to scream out ‘No!’ but I knew it would do no good. I nursed my anger and told myself that if things had been different, if there hadn’t been a video, if there hadn’t been a butterfly tattoo, if there hadn’t been a spiky black leather collar then I would have fought him with all my being.

I told myself that, but I wasn’t sure if I was lying or not. I was kind of liking my leash. I liked the way it made me feel, as if I was so sexy that Uncle Mitch couldn’t help himself and had to order me around to get what he really wanted. It was like some kind of secret game that I didn’t know the rules to, a game that was somehow all wrapped up in sex. And I had never felt as sexy as I did when I was following Uncle Mitch’s orders.

Uncle Mitch pulled back on the leash, constricting my breathing and not giving me any chance to wiggle or escape while he pushed his fat cock inside me.

I couldn’t help myself, and I moaned. I sounded a little strangled, but there was no denying that it was a sound of pleasure. Fatter cocks are better, and don’t let anybody tell you any different. My pussy reluctantly stretched to accommodate him, and I thought I might just pass out from pleasure as he worked his way inside.

Uncle Mitch fucked me from behind, my cotton panties around my knees while I knelt on the staircase. I felt like I’d been skewered on a spit — his cock pushing me forward and the steady pull on the collar around my neck tugging me backwards. I’d never been screwed with such mechanical deliberation, slowly and deeply. It made me dizzy, and I had to lean forward and rest my cheek on the floor. His purposeful fucking rocked me back and forth and my cheek rubbed the scratchy carpet.

My panting grew shorter. My eyes grew wet and my fingers mindlessly clawed the carpet. I couldn’t take a breath deep enough to do me any good, and some dim part of my mind thought maybe I was going to hyperventilate.

I was gonna cum. I was gonna cum harder than I’d ever cum before. I just couldn’t quite catch the edge that would put me over. Each thrust of Uncle Mitch’s husky cock sent little skittish cums through me, each wan cum promising to be the big one, each one failing to fulfill its promise.

After a minute or two of Uncle Mitch’s pounding I was going to do it. I took a deep breath in anticipation of that last thrust that would send me to heaven.

I’ll never know if it was deliberate or not, but instead of pushing that fat cock back inside me Uncle Mitch pulled himself out with a wet little pop. I felt maddeningly empty. “No,” I heard myself whisper plaintively into the carpet. My pussy frantically twitched, begging him to come back so I could finally cum.

My unbelieving brain was still waiting for that fat cock to fuck me into heaven when Uncle Mitch crawled past me up the steps.

“Come,” he said, tugging hard on the leash for emphasis as he started to walk down the hall. I couldn’t believe it! All men are alike. Just like Billy, Uncle Mitch didn’t give a damn if I came or not. I had to scoot to keep from being choked, and it was hard to crawl with my panties around my knees.

Uncle Mitch led me down the hall to my room, and next to my bed. “Good girl,” he said, bending over to pat me on the head. Amazingly I felt myself blush, although how that happened when he was petting me and not when my pussy was dripping in his face I’m not so sure.

“Up,” he commanded, giving the leash an upward tug and patting the bed with his free hand. I didn’t want to get cuffed again, and I didn’t want Mom and Dad to see my video debut. So like a good dog I obediently climbed up on my bed.

Besides, maybe if I did like I was told I’d get a treat. Like maybe he’d finish fucking me. Oh, God! Did I just think that?

Uncle Mitch flipped me over on my back and threw his end of the leash down on the bed. He hadn’t told me to move, and so I just lay there while he pulled my panties off. He had a hard time getting them off over the buckles on my boots. Thank goodness for elastic, I guess.

Uncle Mitch stood at the foot of the bed and spread my legs so he was standing between them. Looking up at him standing between my legs I was amazed to see that he didn’t look any different. It was still my same old Uncle, gray and stolid, kind of soft and kind of hard. If he was burning with desire you couldn’t tell by the look in his cool blue eyes.

The only outward sign that anything was different between us was that thick cock, wet from pre-cum and my own pussy juice, poking out from his grey slacks, ruddy and ready to finish.

Uncle Mitch bent his legs and mounted me, pushing himself inside while my knees came up instinctively to make it easier for him. In a nanosecond my body was yanked back in time to when I’d been on the staircase getting fucked from behind and all ready to cum. I gasped, I clawed the sheets and I moaned like a like a bitch in heat.

The first time I’d fucked Billy it had been in his car up on Lookout Mountain. It was over pretty quick, after a lot of fumbling around. And the second time I had snuck into his house after dark so his parents wouldn’t know. We hadn’t turned on the lights to lessen the chances of getting caught, and that was how I’d managed to keep him from seeing my tat.

But both times Billy’d stripped off every bit of my clothes, even my jewelry.

This was so different. Uncle Mitch may have been fucking me but he was still wearing his all gray clothes. And I was flopped on my bed as if I’d just come home from school exhausted. I was still totally dressed except for my tiny scrap of pink cotton panties, and the only place we were touching was where his fat bare dick was inside my dripping wet pussy.

I wanted rip off my clothes. I even wanted to rip off Uncle Mitch’s clothes, so I could feel his chest under my fingers, so I could wrap my bare legs around his bare ass. But I didn’t want those things badly enough to stop what was happening to me, to stop being fucked.

I was gonna cum. I knew it.

It was so unlike when Billy and I had done it. He’d been done in a heartbeat and I’d gotten nowhere near an orgasm. Both times.

Uncle Mitch’s deliberate fucking was guaranteed to make me cum. It was so much more sensual than Billy’s frantic fuck, in spite of all of Billy’s empty words of love.

Drivin’ real slow gets you home pretty fast..

The line from a song from one of the bands that Mom liked flitted through my mind, too relevant to be ignored, too irrelevant to interfere. That little bit of the song repeated itself over and over in my head, the message and the pounding drum track impossibly intensifying the sensations between my legs, hurrying my orgasm along.

My hand tangled itself in my hair and pulled hard, and I wiggled around that divine cock. I was gonna do it. I was gonna cum.

Mitch pulled out of me, leaving me maddeningly empty again. But this time he immediately laid his cock in the cleft between my pussy lips and started pumping again, rubbing his shaft directly against my bare clit. It was more than enough.

I started to cum.

My body spasmed divinely around my pussy. Orgasmic waves roiled through me, starting at my center and then moving to my hips, my chest, my neck, over and over. I think I gave myself whiplash, and I may have even passed out. It was as if where we touched was the center of the universe and my body was quaking from some cosmic collision. In my dreams it was always a cock inside me that made me cum, and I just discovered that having a cock stroke my clit until I came was unimaginably better. I gratefully surrendered to the fireworks, hoping it would never end.