She didn’t care generally. Sometimes it hurt, being excluded, talked about behind her back. Sometimes. But she didn’t relate to her peers anyway, most of them. Hell, using the word “peer” already separated her from most of them. Not that they were stupid, most of them. They just weren’t smart. That kind of smart that gets you to the place you’re going 3 or 4 steps before everyone else. Not the crazy scary smart, where you’re basically an alien to people. But enough to be “different”.
Not that she was the only smart kid at the school. But the others didn’t gel with her for multiple reasons. Some were the student athletes. She never understood how they had any time, somehow mastering sports AND classes seemed unfair. There were the hardcore nerds. Just as smart as her, but even more awkward. Delving deep into their preferred geekdoms. She just didn’t feel like she clicked with any of them.
She did try. She went on some dates, a couple parties. Even decided she wanted to try sex. At 18, it was easy enough to find a willing partner. A college guy a couple years older than her. It was disappointing. She’d already had better orgasms from what she’d watched online during an obsessive period, learning every inch of her body. It was a fantastic release. But again, afterwards, she didn’t feel guilty. That would have been stupid. She was allowed to cum and feel good. But what she felt most of all was lonely. The couple college guys she had fucked didn’t stimulate her in any way. No orgasm, no connection, no intimacy. It wasn’t what she needed.
What she needed, who she wanted, was Alan. He was funny, he was charming, he was smart. Single, he “got” her jokes, they liked the same shows. He knew her better than any of her classmates or so-called friends. There were only a few problems with him. He was twice her age. That to most people would have been the biggest obstacle. But that wasn’t hers. The biggest issue was that he was her Uncle.
Most people would have went “ewww” and wrote the thought off. Others would have stopped after masturbating to a fantasy. Nothing more. But, as always, she obsessed. She fixated. She touched and tasted herself to the thought. Because she knew what she wanted. On some level, she always had. And thankfully, now her parents were going out for the weekend for their anniversary. Alan was coming over to watch a movie with her. They often watched bad movies together and they were going to be alone. And she hoped, they were going to be more.
The initial preparations were easy. She was going to be alone for a few hours. More than enough to get everything set up. First, was herself. She knew he still saw her as a kid, despite their conversations. What kids talk about quantum mechanics. About the subtext and literary references to the movies they see? She had to get him to see her differently. And despite everything, she was attractive. Still short and slim for her age, yes, just small B cups for her chest. But a spaghetti strap top, low cut, would hopefully force his eyes downward. Short jean skirt. Her hair in pony tail braids. She’d seen enough porn that that’s what guys liked when they wanted the girls to look younger. Cotton candy lip gloss, so that if, no when he tasted her, he’d always remember it.
No bra, no panties. She couldn’t afford him to hesitate. He might stop. Change his mind. She didn’t want that. She wanted him. Wanted him in her giving her what the boys failed to do. Make her a woman. She’d even gone to a clinic and put herself on birth control pills. She’d been on them a month and she wanted to feel her Uncle in her. When he came, no condoms, nothing to separate them. She’d watched so much porn lately, learning what spots made her feel electric, which made her crave, which ones made her loose control. She’d practiced on banana’s until she puked, wanting everything to be perfect. She wanted him to never want another woman again, so she would never have to be lonely again.
As smart as she was, she didn’t really understand half of what she was planning. The long term consequences, the unreality of porn. She just became obsessed about making it a reality, every moment before bed, or when she had the shower, fantasizing about it. Making her want it more and more, until all rational thought on it was gone. And he’d be here in minutes. She slid a finger in her pussy, slipping in easily due to her wetness, her excitement. She ran the juices behind her ears and on her neck. She’d seen that online as well. She was shaking so hard she was about to cry.
When she heard the doorbell, she ran to the door, making sure everything was ready. She opened it, barely able to contain herself when Alan came in and hugged her. He remarked on her new look, told her she looked pretty. She just beamed. When she walked ahead of him, she made sure to work her hips, hoping she had enough of an ass to make him notice. Her cheeks were flushed as her heart raced a mile a minute. They sat down in the living room, making small chat. She noticed his eyes were constantly looking away from hers. They focused on TV, Futurama playing, the show a favorite of both of theirs.
“So, ummm, why….why don’t you change into something more comfy, that PJ set of yours you like,” he said. She could tell her outfit was bothering him. And she knew that if it made him uncomfortable, it was because of uncomfortable thoughts. He returned to focus on the TV show when she shrugged. She waited until he wasn’t looking her way. She slid her straps over her shoulders and simply let gravity do the rest. Her stomach grumbled, terrified. She whispered his name once, then louder when he didn’t respond.
“…alan….Alan?”
“Yes, hon…,” he started to say. But then, he froze. The way she looked at him, the way her nipple was exposed, the way she breathed. There was no way to misunderstand the situation. To misread it. And because of that, he froze, utterly shocked.
“It’s OK, Alan,” she said, repeating words she’d practiced a hundred times. “I want you.”
With that, her top slid further down, fully exposed from the waist up. She slid forward, hand on his crotch as she kissed him. He kissed her back, for a fraction of a second, then pushed her back.
“Sammie, please… I don’t know if I did something to make you think, but this, no. We can’t…”
She interrupted him with her hands. She never took her eyes off of his as she unzipped him. Felt his hardness. The determination was throwing him off she could tell. He had real fear in his eyes. For a second she felt guilty, then that part of her that achieved whatever she wanted kicked in and smothered the idea of stopping. Of apologizing. Instead, she slid down, pulling his cock free, and sucking it aggressively. If he got a moment to think, if he got clear headed, it could ruin everything. She seen the porn videos, how guys acted when the girls went to town on their cocks. So she did the same. Just like with the banana’s. Except she only gagged this time, no puke. She smiled when she felt him grab her hair, her ponytail’s. She’d seen that too. But then it hurt, as he jerked her back, shoving her hard to the floor.