Ripe chapter one by Eric the Red
Dive into “Ripe, Chapter One” by Eric the Red, where desire and passion intertwine in a tantalizing tale that pushes boundaries. Follow the seductive journey of unforgettable characters as they explore their deepest fantasies. Unlock the thrill of eroticism—your next obsession awaits!
This is the story of how my Uncle Phil raped me and I grew to love it.
I wasn’t quite awake as I reached back to feel this thing on my hip.
I was lying on my side in bed and was still a little drunk from the wine I’d been given, and a little stoned from the weed as my fingers slipped down to rub the fleshy object and for a second I was confused until I felt further and realized it was a hard cock.
At first I pulled my hand away in shock but then I began to feel squishy and excited.
I reached back again and started rubbing and fondling the stiff member I suddenly had access to.
At that moment everything was still a bit hazy and dreamlike so questions like who that cock was attached to and why they were suddenly in bed with me hadn’t even occurred to me yet.
All I knew, or could even think about, right then was that I’d finally gotten a hold of some cock and I wanted to touch it.
I had just turned eighteen and I was as ripe as they get so my hormones were primed for action.
That’s actually why we’d gone to Uncle Phil’s place that night, to celebrate my birthday.
My parents promised me a real party in the summer with all my friends but for my actual birthday, May 7, we were invited to Uncle Phil’s and I didn’t mind.
He wasn’t a blood relative actually but more like a friend of the family.
I had known him pretty much my whole life and had even had a big crush on him when I was little on account of how kindly he’d always treated me.
And tonight had been no exception.
He prepared us a nice meal and broke out the good wine, and when he first poured me a glass my mother started to object but Uncle Phil simply said, “Come on Marge, it’s the kid’s birthday! The French give their little children wine and Sabrina is sixteen. Practically a woman.”
“Well okay.” Mom agreed reluctantly. “But not to much.”
With a wink Uncle Phil poured me some wine and I could help but let out an excited giggle.
The night wore on as and we finished dinner Uncle Phil would wait until my parents weren’t paying attention and signal me to drain my glass at which point I’d slip it under the table and he’d refill it.
At sixteen it wasn’t as if I’d never had alcohol before but I wasn’t a big drinker so after a few glasses I was quite tipsy and that’s when Uncle Phil surprised me again.
We had been talking about many different subjects and he kept subtly steering the conversation back to me.
It was my birthday and he was obviously committed to making me the center of attention.
It didn’t take long for me to figure out what he was doing and I loved him for it even if it was a little embarrassing.
Whenever he would ask my opinion or something I would giggle and I could feel my cheeks flushing hot as I responded.
Anyway somehow the subject of marijuana came up and Uncle Phil asked me bluntly, “You ever smoke pot Sabrina?”
I was taking a sip of wine and almost did a spit take but managed to swallow before giggling, “No!”
“It’s okay if you have.” he reassured me. “You aren’t gonna be in trouble or anything.”
“I know.” I groaned, wishing he’d change the subject.
Then my dad pipped in, slurring his speech ever so slightly, with that slightly exaggerated seriousness that drunk people sometimes get as he said, “No, he’s right honey, I mean you know if you’re experimenting with stuff your mother and I, we just want you to talk to us, like we want you to know you can talk to us.”
“That’s right dear.” my mother confirmed. “Whatever it is, anything, you can always come to me baby, I mean the stuff we did when we were your age!”
She began cackling and slapping my father on the arm playfully as he chuckled, “Oh I remember mama!”
“Really?” I asked, leaning forward and suddenly intensely interested.
But I guess Uncle Phil wasn’t having that because he said, “I don’t think we need to get into all that, but Sabrina, have you never tried it?”
“No!” I responded again, a little more firmly.
“Would you like to?” was his immediate follow up question.
I hadn’t been prepared for that, but since I had assumed it was an academic discussion I thought about it for a moment and then said in noncommittal tone, “Well sure, I guess I’d like to see what it’s like.”
Then he just left the table without saying a word.
I watched him leave the room, and feeling a little drunk, and more than a little confused I looked to my parents who were looking at me with odd grins.
My dad started letting out that sort of through the nose laugh, where you’re trying to suppress it but it doesn’t work.
Then my mom said to him, “He’s not, is he?”
My dad composed himself enough to chuckle, “It’ll be alright!”
By the time Uncle Phil returned moments later with a cigar box I was mystified and didn’t know what to expect.
He sat down and opened the box retrieving a hand rolled cigarette.
“Yeah, fire it up Phil!” my dad exclaimed.
He produced a cigarette lighter, and applied flame to the tip of the white cylinder, puffing it to life, before offering it to me.
“Here you go birthday girl.” he said in that slightly strained voice of someone attempting to speak without breathing out.
I took it, and the looked at my parents tentatively.
They smiled and motioned for me to hit it, so I did.
I hit it hard and coughed my brains out which was hilarious apparently because the adults laughed their asses off about that.
We all hit it a couple of times and by the time it was done my head was swimming.
We talked for a bit longer but after I yawned a second time Uncle Phil suggested, “Why don’t you guys stay the night?”
Mom opened with the obligatory, “We don’t want to impose.”
To which Phil gave the counter sign, “Nonsense, it’s no imposition.”
This little dance of social etiquette finally came to a conclusion when Phil pointed out, “You guys have had too much to drink, I just can’t let you drive. You two take my bed, I’ll put Sabrina in the guest room, and I’ll just sack out on the sofa.”
“Are you sure.” Mom clearly felt obligated to say again. “We don’t want to steal your bed.”
“It’s really not a big deal.” he scoffed. “That sofa is comfortable as shit.”
Then Uncle Phil turned to me and said, “You can grab a tshirt out of the the dresser in the guest bedroom sweetie.”
“Okay!” I chirped and immediately dashed to the bedroom.
I stripped down to my panties as soon as I entered the room.
After taking my bra off I rubbed at the underwire marks on my tits, and then caught a glimpse of myself in the floor length mirror.
I lifted a double D in each hand and dropped them, and then turned sideways patting my little tummy and giggling.
Normally I would think my tits were saggy and my stomach was fat but the alcohol and weed relaxed me to where I felt like cutting myself some slack I guess because as I put my hands on my big curvy hips I couldn’t help thinking, “Damn, I look pretty damn hot!”