[The following story is completely false, none of the events took place. It is my first erotica story, so feedback would be appreciated]
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My 39-year-old uncle and I had started getting closer over the past few years. I grew up living in the same town as him, but never really visited him much. After him and my aunt got divorced, him and I started to talk more, and tease each other. I used to crack jokes to him, and flip him off while I drove by. He'd laugh it off, and flip me off too. I craved his attention, I was jealous if he talked to one of my other siblings. I wanted him to show me attention, and only me. We used to wrestle around all the time. I'd threaten to kick his ass, and he would tell me to bring it on, so I'd put up my fists and pretend to fight with him. I must admit, I always did enjoy his strong arms wrapped around me, pinning me to the ground. I was the one who decided to take the relationship to the next level, I fantasized about him often.
I started by going to his house to go swimming, usually wearing a skimpy bikini. Eventually moving up to daily visits to his house. We'd go for a ride, and go back to his house and have a beer and watch some TV. I always made sure to wear low-cut shirts, and a short skirt so he could see my long, firm legs. I'd tease him by bending over in front of him, after I had "accidentally" dropped something on the floor. I could feel his eyes burning a second hole in my ass. I knew he wanted me just as badly as I wanted him, but I didn't know if he would act on it. He'd always sit away from me, I'd invitingly sit on the couch, but he always chose the chair over sitting next to me. I'd look up into his eyes, begging him to come near me.
I had finally made the decision one day, that I was going to get him to make a move on me, no matter what. I wasn't confident it would happen, but I knew he wanted me. I was irresistible, I was a succubus. I woke up early and got in the shower, and shaved every part of my body. I took care to smell nice, sprayed some expensive perfume on myself, fixed my hair to look full and put on a dab of make-up. Nothing too extreme, just some mascara to bring out my eyelashes and some lip gloss. I got online to see if he was there. I messaged him and talked about how bored I was. He offered to take me for a ride, so I agreed. I immediately drove over to his house, and met him outside. We got in his car and started driving. We usually went the most scenic routes, didn't talk much. We admired the view, the beautiful mountains and autumn trees. I looked at him with lust, I knew he could feel my eyes on him, because I saw a nervous twitch in his leg.
When we got back to his house, I got out of the car and he invited me inside for a beer. I gladly agreed, obviously. We went inside and I stripped off my jacket and sat on the couch. He brought me a beer and we started talking. We started the conversation as usual, talking about family matters and things like this. I talked about my ex-boyfriends, and he talked about the many women he had been with. I started to get more adventurous and sparked a conversation about sex. I told him I am a very sexual person, and talked about how my ex-boyfriend had loved the things I had done for him. I told him about my famous hand-job, and how he would roll over with pleasure when I made him cum. He seemed a bit uneasy, but I didn't give up. He knew I was a young vixen, he just didn't want to admit it. Things started heating up as I was making every excuse possible to touch him. I would hold my hand up to his, to see the difference in size. He was a big man, strong arms and a belly from drinking too much beer. His hands were so masculine, so every time I touched them I felt like such a woman. I would make fun of him and tell him he had fat fingers.
