PREFACE
Two months ago my father, Dr. Eberhard Wormwood, passed away of a severe and sudden heart attack. Being his only progeny and living relative, except for Uncle Willy (my mother passed away years ago), I took on the chore of settling his financial affairs, sorting through volumes of personal and professional letters and papers, and closing his psychiatric practice. That endeavor led me to the discovery of his personal diary; and that revelation led me to the soul-shattering epiphany that I had never really known my father - only a carefully crafted, full-body mask which was nothing more
than 'a paper moon, sailing over a cardboard sea.'
Wisteria Wormwood
CLOSURE
It was two months since the funeral. Uncle Willy had been a great help to Wisteria and they sat in her father's oak paneled office to the rear of his modest but very private Scarborough estate. The shelves and shelves of medical case books remained untouched. The furniture and leather therapy couch remained dust free but undisturbed. The contents of his filing cabinets, except for one which was locked with no key insight, were reviewed but completely intact.
Wisteria sat brooding, but remembered the good times the three of them had had. She and Uncle Willy and her father met at least once a week for dinner in midtown and she remembered how she'd tease her uncle mercilessly by flashing glimpses of cleavage his way whenever her father wasn't looking. It was a little game they'd both enjoyed for years, but now it seemed about to end – as though a heavy steel door had suddenly swung shut. Uncle Willy was seven years younger than her father, and Wisteria was seven years younger than her uncle, so their age disparity was inconsequential and rarely mentioned. She glanced over at her uncle, sitting motionless and reflective across her father's massive desk.
Whatever there may have been between them had always been contained - rolled up in a scroll and sealed with the wax of decency, respect and fear. As Wisteria grew from a beautiful child to a vivacious teen to a sumptuous young woman, her physical attributes hardly escaped the lecherous eye of her handsome uncle. But likewise, his hard athletic body, when compared to the flabby, unkempt torsos of her numerous admirers, became increasingly attractive as her years progressed. And she never failed to sit at his side during long motor rides, or sit at his knee when he told his army stories, or play her little flashing game whenever possible. The organic ripeness of her supple body often interrupted his train of thought with an unconsciousness hardening in his groin. She would often feel his penetrating gaze and sexual thirst, and frequently dreamed of him devouring her forbidden fruit. But never had either of them verbalized their mutual secret desires – out of respect for Eberhard – beloved father and trusted brother.
William broke the solemn silence, with a strong baritone harmonic.
"It's time you thought about a family, Wisteria. The years are flying by. Why no dotting husband to share the ride? Pick a young, strapping beau and tie him up."
His tone was light and casual. But the question hit one of her few raw nerves and the truth came spilling out.
"I've been saving all my love for you, Uncle William."
There was no smile to soften the blow. There was no wink to lighten the delivery – no more childhood nicknames. Wisteria leaned forward on both elbows, exposing a huge swell of pulsating bosom and left her uncle stunned, with absolutely no wiggle room. She had checked the king and in her mind he had only one possible move.
Uncle Willie rose slowly and deliberately, bolted the door to the reception area from the inside, and returned to the chair facing his sultry ward.
"Wisteria, during the past two months I have shared every family story with you that I could remember. I've told you all the good things your father did, and all the harmless pranks he loved to spring. I've told you all of the family secrets we've had locked in the closet for many, many years..."
His niece nodded her head in appreciation.
"Except for one... One big one."
William crouched forward then stood before the ingénue. Her eyes had opened wide and wonder now replaced her steamy reverie.
"Did your father ever tell you why they named him Eberhard?"
"No, I don't think so – not that I recall."
William leaned over the desk and picked up the stub of a warn pencil.
"Well it seems that when your father was born, he emerged from his mother's womb with a tiny, but full blown erection."
Wisteria blinked, then began to laugh hysterically. The image that formed in her mind of a little baby stroking a raging hardon made her forget her forlorn circumstances.
"Uncle William! What a thing to say! I mean, about my own father!"
"And there's something else, Wisteria. All Wormwood men share the same curse."
Uncle Willie said no more but began to unbuckle his belt as Wisteria's eyes widened. When his trousers were loose he dropped them to the floor with his boxers with a grand flourish. In the fading afternoon light, she gasped at the sight of a leathery, blood red fire hose hanging down between his legs, at least twice the size of anything she had ever seen before – except in the movies.
"My God! It's huge! Jesus Uncle William, it's a monster!"
William raised his pants, tucked in his shirt and sat back down.
"Your father was two inches bigger. He had the largest cock I've ever seen."
An erotic cloud of shock and awe settled over the stately office. An emotional roller coaster ride was just beginning. Wisteria slumped back in her chair, trying to reconcile her memories of father with these new revelations. But the task was impossible. They were two different men, two different persons, and she only knew one of them. Finally her head cleared. She stood slowly but very erect, walked around to her uncle and faced him resolutely as he stood.
"Unbutton my blouse, William."
Without any hesitation, he began to fumble with the pearl buttons and fine silk. His fingers were burning as he brushed against her heaving breasts.
"Do not touch my breasts. They are very sensitive." Wisteria read her uncle like a book and stepped into a role that was written for her, turning her back to him when he had finished.
"Slip the blouse off – slowly! Then unclasp my bra."
Uncle William did as ordered and stepped back to take in her slender beauty.
"Where are you going? Slip off my bra and cup my breasts with your hands, gently."
William complied and she leaned back against him sensuously.
"Yes, that's it - gently. Feel their weight. Finger my nipples – gently. Kiss the back of my neck."
Wisteria was toying with her uncle, but he didn't seem to mind. Uncle Willie had dreamed of fondling those breasts for years, and he was quite willing to play any role she wanted just to once coddle her luscious melons.
"Now unzip the back of my skirt."
Again, William did as directed and the navy blue sheath dropped to the floor. Now it was Willie's turn to gasp. Her butt was a perfectly rounded, heart shaped moon just barely covered by her sheer silk panties. Her legs were firm like an alabaster Venus. Wisteria's back was still turned to her uncle, but she could feel his eyes devouring her. Turning about, she stepped out of her heels and reached for his throbbing crotch.
"I've dreamed of fucking you for years, ever since I was fourteen. It was a favorite fantasy of mine when I was still a virgin." Wisteria glanced away from his stare. "For years I hoped that you'd be the one to make me a woman."
Though that hurdle had long since passed, she now knew the time had come to fulfill her deepest yearning. She paused for a moment in total submission. "I've never had anyone your size before, and my lovers have been few and far between. You will have to go very, very slow, Uncle."
William took her in his arms and kissed her passionately, sucking the wind from her lungs as he almost swallowed her tongue. In a second he was naked and took command, leading her to the couch. As she lounged back he straddled the broad leather psychiatric confessional and raised her legs, removing the silk panty veil and last obstruction to their union.
"Drape your legs over mine. I want to see your golden pussy. I want to smell your warm perfume."
Wisteria did as instructed and moved closer, within striking range of his 12" dowser as William reached below the couch, retrieved a bottle of warm oil and carefully drizzled it over her breasts. With the tip of his rod teasing her love lips, he gently and slowly began to massage her breasts, with more and more almond oil until her entire chest was a slippery mass of quivering flesh. Never again, during this encounter, would he use his lips. They were reserved for future conquests. Over and over his hands circled her fleshy mounds, alternating between palms and finger tips, light and heavy, pleasure and pain as her nipples reacted to his manly touch.
Minutes seemed to stretch into hours as she lost all sense of time when finally even his touch seemed to melt away. Her glands succumbed to sensory overload and all sensation from her orbs simply shutdown in shock. She could no longer feel the warmth of his hands, but a flaming torch at her entrance suddenly consumed her consciousness.
