Confession Ambivalent About This

(This is a work of fiction.)

This text is based on a lengthy confession shared on a private group that I am a member of. It is being shared with the permission of the account behind the original post, with anonymising changes to names and some geography, as well as minor alterations to some other details - in other words, it is partly fictionalised to maintain anonymity. To reiterate: these changes have been made to preserve the anonymity of the original poster(s), and have been approved by them.

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I'm a 41 yo Londoner. Middle class professional, married, teenage kids. This happened in 2017. I'd been promoted at work earlier that year, and for the first time my role required overseas travel. In July that year I flew to the US East Coast (won't be naming the big city, as it could narrow it down for anyone I know reading this). My older half-sister's son lived in the city although I hadn't met him in years, but we were quite frequently in touch on socials. My nephew was in his mid 20s and working and also studying. His father had bought him a small one b/r apartment only recently, and he invited me to come stay with him for the couple of nights I would be in the city. I readily agreed, because I'd wanted to catch up with him for years. He met me warmly at the airport the evening I landed and we drove down to his place. On the way he told me he'd be away until late at night for a close friend's birthday, and hoped I wouldn't be too bothered if he made a bit of racket when he came in, and I wasn't to worry about where he'd sleep because he had a very comfy couch in the living room where he slept more often than in the bedroom, which was mine for the two nights, of course.

The apartment was cosy, obviously recently cleaned to welcome me, and the bedroom was neat and fragrant with a diffuser that was still quite full. He showed my around a bit before driving off to the party.

I had a long day ahead next day, and had had a decent meal on the flight, so decided to have a quick shower and jump into bed early. The weather was warm and dry, so my usual long summer nightshirt felt very right as I got into the crisp, fresh sheets and smiled at how much effort he must have put into getting things ready for me. I must have fallen asleep pretty much instantly.

It must've been pretty late, at least 1-ish, when I became aware of male voices in the living room. I listened for a while, but couldn't fully make out what they were talking about. I could distinctly hear my nephew's voice, which definitely sounded drunk, and there were two other men. He told them to keep it down to a low roar because 'aunty's sleeping' or something like that. But they were obviously all drunk and unaware of how loud they were. For a few minutes there was silence, then the clatter of something in the kitchen, and then someone clearly said 'is she fuckable!' This was followed by a burst of profanities and guffaws and more profanities. I was stunned.

I also realised I was furiously, very shamefully, aroused.

Things quietened down for a while, and I pictured them lying asleep on the couch and sofas outside. I hoped they would stay that way, because I did want a good night's sleep. But a few minutes later, I heard someone shuffling to the bathroom, and the bubbly sound of a stream of pee directed straight into the water. More shuffling. And then, alarmingly, someone slowly opened my door. I was facing the wall, my back to the door, in my habitual long nightshirt, legs exposed, and felt very confused and paralysed at this strange development. My eyes were fully open, and I could vaguely make out movement in the shadows around the room. I wanted to turn around but couldn't, telling myself he would just go away when he realised the bed was occupied. No need to embarrass him. But then the mattress moved under his weight. My heart was thudding so heard I could hear it echo around the room. I had goose pimples. I couldn't find enough oxygen to stay conscious. Whoever it was, he was now lying behind me, breathing heavily, flooding the air with alcohol fumes. I stayed still as a corpse, unable to think at all. The minutes felt like hours. I hoped to soon hear snoring or any other sign that he was asleep. But he clearly wasn't, because there was a hand resting on my thigh now.

I had my mouth wide open to take big draughts of air. The hand was burning hot, and he eased my nightshirt up my leg slowly, seeming to think me sound asleep. I remember no clear thoughts of mine, but I must have felt it safest to appear asleep. The thought also crossed my head that because I was wearing panties, he'd come up against that barrier and give up, if his intentions were of that sort. (What else did I think they were?)

The next few seconds were quick, and stunned me like nothing in my life had done until then. He wedged his hand between my knees, lifted up my right leg to create space to access me, and I felt his bulk move close to me, and his other hand worked at his own crotch, freeing up an erection that hit my leg and nearly gave me a heart attack. My right leg was now suspended high in the air with his hand, and my panties were moved aside with a couple of fingers to make way for the cock, which slid into my cunt, suddenly widening it along its length with hardness and heat. I could hardly control my shudders and shame at the heavy lubrication down there. He began to fuck me heavily, grunting low and I think imagining in his drunkenness that I was still safely asleep. I had my pillow jammed quietly and firmly into my face, and could sense nothing but the cock, the slapping of his body against me, his hand on my leg, his smell, my own intense arousal. After many minutes, he stopped, jerking slightly. His cock rested inside me, became hotter as his sperm began to fill up my insides, and he breathed very heavily. And then, if he still had any illusions that I was asleep, they were blown away because I came ferociously, my vagina contracting in a series of mini earthquakes around his cock and a low moan left my lips at the sheer delight of that sensation. He actually laughed at that, making my shame return! He stayed inside for a couple of minutes, savouring his orgasm, gave me a little pat on the leg, and proceeded to move out of the bed. I heard him tuck in whatever he was wearing, and walk out. He wasn't shuffling any more.

I lay there, my mind blank, feeling his fluid running down both sides of my thigh. Stupidly, my first thoughts were that the day ahead was going to be a train wreck because I definitely couldn't go back to sleep after this shockingly pleasurable catastrophe. But I was still floating in the honey-like afterglow.

Outside, there was silence. Then I distinctly heard whispers and suppressed laughter and a profanity and more laughter. Moments later, the door opened again. This was fully unthinkable territory now. I stayed paralysed, unable to process any way of acting against what was happening. It didn't take long for the second man to get into bed and basically do almost exactly what the last one had done. He'd obviously been given the right tips. But this time I made it slightly easier for him, letting my leg take some of its own weight when he held it up. He had another variation on the last one, snuggling gently and sloppily into my neck as he fucked my very fluid cunt, and making low, alcohol-smelling moans as he licked my neck. He stayed inside me quite long after releasing himself, and I felt his cock go soft and then slide out before he got away from me. He shut the door a bit too loudly as he went out.

My thoughts were clearer now. There was no sleep left in me, and if my thoughts were words they would be 'That was so much bloody much fun!' or something like that. I could hear more whispers outside, and was pretty sure that my nephew's two friends were comparing notes on their drunken conquest while he slept. I was beginning to think of getting out of bed to clean up the mess of semen on my thighs and bum and saliva at the back of my neck, when the door opened again.

This time, I was well and truly shocked. I couldn't retain the illusion any more. This one, or one of the other two who'd come in, had to be my nephew! My brain went numb, and I remained shell-shocked as this man, too, came down behind me. My sexual system went into overdrive, the shame of the broken taboo driving it to a lunatic high. I shuddered to two violent orgasms as I got fucked again for I think the longest time that night. My moans didn't go into the pillow this time, and they were louder and bolder. My leg stayed up without his hand.

When the door closed again this time, I was totally spent. I felt like I'd been smashed in an accident and gone into a blissful netherworld. I'd never remotely dreamt I could have so much fun getting fucked in this very strange way. I had been a single-man woman all my life until then.

There were more sounds outside, and I was momentarily terrified I'd misread the number of men outside, and there were more! But the whispers died off. Waiting until I was sure they were all asleep, I slipped off my sticky panties and went to the toilet to take a pee. I had to step out of the bedroom to go the toilet, and briefly glimpsed sleeping legs and arms on the way, and I felt an odd thrill in my belly at the sight. When I peed, long strings of cum dripped out, and I watched the sheer quantity of them with hypnotised fascination and a dreamlike pleasure.

When I got back into bed, I thought I'd never be able to sleep that night. And I kept thinking of the awkwardness if I had to face my nephew and his friends in the morning.

But I did got to sleep. And got up strangely refreshed, vaguely, stupidly thinking that the large quantity of man fluid I'd absorbed down there must have revitalised me.

There we no sounds outside still. I ventured out, and they were all gone. There was no note or anything for me either.

The day went well. In the afternoon, I got a message from my nephew: he was sorry to leave me alone this evening, but he needed to drive over to X city for work.

I flew back to London the next day, and for all these months have tried my best to remove the memory of that night from my mind. It's always been there, of course, but always has been pushed out by me.

So why this confession now? Because I want to get this out of my system ahead of a new trip to my nephew's city in X weeks. He's still there, he's been in touch with me normally all this while on socials, and he's invited me to stay over again. Maybe getting this out will make me stronger.