Sherrie's Uncle Carl was not bad looking, but had sort of a creepy way about him, and even though Sherrie hadn't seen him in several years, she never really felt comfortable about the way he looked at her. Carl was much of a loner and had no real friends to speak of. There was something about the look in his eye and his unkempt hair which somehow made you want to avoid eye contact.
At close to 50, his sex drive was not waning, but, in fact, getting stronger, and weirder. He hadn't had sex in almost a year, since his wife figured out what a porn addict he was and she up and left. Suffice to say, he'd been taking matters into his own hands since then, at least twice a day. But even with his stockpile of videos, and, of course, the internet, whacking off is never the same as fucking a real pussy or pushing your cock into a tight ass, not to mention having a mouth available when you just need to be sucked. More and more, Carl found himself searching for filthier and filthier porn to get off to and often attempting to figure out ways to turn fantasy into reality, but to no avail. Until he found out his niece was about to pay him a weekend visit.
When his sister called one afternoon to ask if Sherrie could spend the weekend at his house before starting her cosmetology course at the nearby school, he didn't hesitate before saying yes. Finally a female body to ogle, and a young one at that. Who knows, maybe he could somehow find a way to... He rubbed the front of his pants at the thought.
Saturday morning came and Carl was eagerly awaiting Sherrie's arrival. They hadn't seen each other for a few years, and he was a little surprised when he opened the door to find the cute brunette standing there, bags in hand. He felt his cock move a little and couldn't help moving his eyes down to those preky 36C's pushing against the front of her tank top and, damn, could those white pants get any tighter? He wondered if she had any underwear on as he put his hand into his front pocket, to keep things in place.
"Sherrie, great to see you, girl." He welcomed her into the house, taking the opportunity to put his hand on her waist as he ushered her through the front door, which he closed behind him. She smelled so fresh.
"Uncle Carl, it's been awhile since we've seen each other, but you look just the same as ever." She quickly looked down to stare at the floor, the memory of his creepy looks flooding back.
"Well you sure look different, Sherri," he said, locking eyes with her before taking the opportunity to give her a good eyeballing, pausing at the crotch of her white pants, again wondering about the underwear.
He showed her where her room was and said she was welcome to anything in the fridge, and to just let him know if she needed anything else. She didn't like the way he said that, but figured it was only two nights. No big deal. She was a big girl now.
After dinner that evening, Sherrie slid a pack of cigarettes out of her bag and was about to light up.
"You smoke, Sherrie? That's not good for you."
"Just sometimes, Uncle Carl. I won't if it bothers you. Mom doesn't know though, so don't tell her, OK?"
It was at that moment that Carl figured out how his plan would take shape.
"I won't tell, Sherrie. You can trust me to keep a secret."
"Thanks. Would you like one?"
Carl used to smoke, but stopped a couple of years ago. But he figured he should take one, to build a little trust.
"OK. But I haven't smoked in years. You won't tell your mom, will you Sherrie?"
"I won't tell if you won't tell."
"That's what I was hoping you'd say, Sherrie."
Carl took the cigarette and her lighter, offered her a light, and lit his own, before walking out onto the patio and sitting in the swinging chair as the sun went down. He patted the seat, inviting Sherrie to sit beside him, which she did. The chair was just big enough for two, with no extra room. He was wearing shorts and his bare leg was right up against those tight white pants. As they smoked, he would steal glances at her cleavage, which he had a good view of, and down to the tight little "V" between her legs. Again, he wondered about her panties, and felt his cock move a little under his shorts.
"Uncle Carl, do you have anything to drink in the house?"
"Do you mean alcohol, Sherrie?"
"Maybe."
"Now, Sherrie, you're not old enough to drink yet."
"I know, but I drank a few times with my friends. It's not like I haven't had a drink before. We just won't tell mom, like with the cigarettes. OK?"
Carl hesitated, and thought for a moment.
"I could let you have a drink. But, Sherrie, if I do that for you, what will you do for me?"
She wasn't sure what he meant, even though she had a glint of a creepy feeling.
"I'll cook dinner tomorrow, Uncle Carl," she said quickly. "I'm a pretty good cook."
He snuffed out his smoke, and took hers, which was almost done, and stepped on it as well. Then he stood up.
"Come on back in, Sherrie. It's getting dark out anyway"
He put his hand on her waist, brushing his fingers against the side of those white pants. He couldn't tell if he felt a panty line. He wondered if she'd been fucked before.
"Do you have a boyfriend, Sherrie?"
"No. I started to go out with one guy earlier this year, but I didn't like him, so we split up."
"If I make you this drink, and we don't tell your mom, there's something you're gonna need to do for me, but it's not cooking dinner. I have another idea. Alright?"
"Um, OK."
He turned on a dim light and mixed her a drink of rum and cola, before grabbing a can of beer for himself. The front of his shorts were noticeably bulging, although Sherrie didn't seem to have noticed. Yet.
He walked over to where she was sitting and having her drink, stopping in front of her. He looked down at her with a serious look on his face.
"Put your hand on my shorts, Sherrie."
"What?"
He took the half finished drink from her hand and placed it on the end table. Then he took her hand in his own.
"I want to cum," he stated bluntly, "and I want you to rub me. Right now."
He put her hand on the front of his shorts and pushed it into his bulge, before removing his hand to leave hers there.
"Rub it."
She pulled away. "Uncle Carl, I don't want to do that. Please don't ask me to do stuff like that. That's why I stopped going out with my boyfriend. He wanted me to do things like that."
"Sorry, Sherrie. I already let you smoke and gave you a drink. And if you don't want me to tell, you'll have to do some things for me."
He unbuttoned his shorts and pulled the zipper down. His cock was standing straight up, tight under his white underwear, with a noticeable wet spot where it had begun dripping. He put his finger on the wet spot and circled around it.
"Put your hand on it."
She took a deep breath, not even sure this was really happening. But she told herself that she could get through this. He just wants to be rubbed. It's creepy, but she could do this. Besides, if she wants to have any more drinks or smokes this weekend, it's really not much of a price to pay. She tried to convince herself as he guided her hand back to his throbbing cock.
She began to rub it back and forth. She'd never done that before except the one time her ex-boyfriend tried to get her to do it to him, but she pulled away quickly and that was that.
He stood there in front of her as she rubbed, his breathing getting heavier.
"Mmmm, Sherrie, that feels great. Now go up and down, and in circles. You sure you never did this before? You're doing a good job, girl."
Then he moved his hips a little and let his shorts drop to the ground.
"Take my underwear down, Sherrie."
She hesitated.
He was standing about two feet in front of her at this point, with his hands on his hips.
"Take 'em down."
She began to pull the elastic band down, exposing his dark hair and the top half of his rock hard cock. He moaned before moving in closer.
"All the way down, Sherrie."
"Uncle Carl, please. I don't want to."
"Get them down. All the way to my knees."
She did as she was told, and his cock fell forward, free at last. He moved in even closer, an inch or two from her face. He could feel the heat from her skin. She could smell his his sweat. He gave his cock a rub and squeezed his balls, before cupping her chin in his one hand and pushing the thumb of his other hand into her mouth, opening it.
She closed her eyes, knowing what was next.
He gently pulled her mouth open a little more before removing his thumb and taking his cock on his hand, placing the tip at her lips, slowly running it along her shiny lip gloss.
"Does that taste good, Sherrie? It sure as hell feels good."
"No, please," she pleaded, starting to pull back. But she knew better than to try to get up and leave. She had that feeling that she'd just better not. Always trust your instincts, she reminded herself. This will be over soon.
