Looking back on it now I realize that was a rare moment of self awareness because all modesty aside I was pretty hot shit back then.
I opened up a drawer, retrieved a soft tshirt, and slipped it on.
It hung to about midthigh and when I looked at myself in the mirror I couldn’t help noticing how good it made my breasts look.
My stiff nipples were poking through the soft fabric and couldn’t resist rubbing them and moaning out loud.
I was feeling kind of frisky when I headed back out to say goodnight to the other adults, as I suddenly thought of them.
When I walked back into the room they had a bottle of bourbon on the table and where each holding a glass.
They seemed to be having such a good time that I wanted to stay up with them, but then my body reminded me with a yawn and a wave of fatigue that it was sleepy time.
We said our goodnights and then on impulse I ran up and hugged Uncle Phil from behind, kissing him on the cheek and gushing, “Thanks Uncle Phil!”
It felt nice pressing my tits against his muscular back, and wrapping my arms around him as he replied with a chuckle, “I hope you know that it was my pleasure Sabrina.”
Like I said I had a crush on Phil when I was younger, and even though I hadn’t thought about it in years apparently I never really got over it because being close to him like this was suddenly making me horny.
My cheeks flushed hot and I was sure if I didn’t get out of there now they’d all smell my pussy getting wet.
I guess this was my first experience of marijuana induced paranoia.
“Goodnight!” I chirped, going to kiss him on the cheek again but he turned to say goodnight and I ended up kissing him on the lips instead.
I instantly bolted out of the room with mild chuckles and “goodnight”s chasing down the hall.
I managed to make it back to the bedroom, almost slam the door but catch it, closing it quietly, before bursting into a fit of giggles.
I ran over to the bed, leaping onto the mattress, burying my face in a pillow, and laughing hysterically.
I was already laughing at the idea that I had to leave because they might smell me.
I mean what the fuck was that about?
So silly!
And the idea of sex with Uncle Phil?
That was just crazy, and unthinkable, but the more I thought about it the less I was laughing.
After a moment I was just lying on my back panting for air from my oh so recent laughter fest, and I started really imagining sex with Uncle Phil.
Before long my hand snaked down and into my panties, and I began playing with myself to the fantasy of fucking Phil.
I had an orgasm to the image of him holding me down and fucking me.
After that I rolled over onto my side with a guilty smile on my lips, thinking, “It would be great if Uncle Phil could really be my first.”
After that I guess I fell asleep because the next thing I remember is waking up to Uncle Phil in bed with me, his hard cock resting against me.
As I said I was still kind of drunk and still a little high too so that combined with how unlikely this seemed, I don’t know, but I guess I thought I might be dreaming because I didn’t hesitate to wrap my fingers around the hard shaft and begin stroking it.
My pussy felt all tingly as I slowly stroked the cock behind me, and I got so into it that I let out a little moan.
That’s when a hand seemed to come out of nowhere and clamp firmly over my mouth as I heard Uncle Phil whisper in my ear, “Shhhhh, you don’t want to wake your parents.”
I was suddenly wide awake and very confused but also afraid of my parents finding me like this.
I started to pull my hand away, but then his other hand, which I suppose had been holding the base of his shaft, grabbed my hand.
I let out a tiny squeal of surprise, and then a whimper, a tear rolling down my cheek as he began slowly stroking himself with my hand.
“No you don’t want mom and dad to catch you playing with Uncle Phil’s cock you dirty girl. You’d be in so much trouble.”
Of course now I know that’s a crazy idea but at the time it really scared me.
Like I really bought that I had done something wrong and would get in trouble if my parents caught me.
It’s kind of scary how much power an authority figure can have over a young girl.
Enough to make her think she’ll get in trouble for being sexually molested.
He continued jacking himself off with my hand for a moment, but then whispered, “I’m gonna let go of your hand but you keep doing that, okay?”
I knew he wouldn’t be able to understand what I said with his hand over my mouth, plus I was afraid to make a peep lest my parents catch me being a “dirty girl” with Uncle Phil so I simply nodded my head.
He had obviously pulled my nightshirt up to my waist before resting his cock against my naked hip, but his hand snaked up under my shirt and began fondling my ample breasts.
As much as I was trying to stay quiet I couldn’t help letting out a high pitched yelp as he pinched my nipple, and a little whimper as he squeezed one of my tits.
His hand roamed all over, rubbing, caressing, and pinching my tummy and breasts.
Then his hand wandered down in between my legs.
I reflexively closed my legs tighter, shaking my head no, but he grasped my leg, pulling it across his legs, opening my thighs, tightening his grip on my mouth and shushing me.
Then he slid his hand under the waistband of my panties and began rubbing my moist little vagina.
His cock in my hand and his fingers skillfully playing in my creamy slit made my hips begin rolling but at the same time I was in a state of mental shock and emotional turmoil.
Why was Uncle Phil doing this to me?
What if my parents found out what I was doing?
At that point even though any reasonable person would call this rape I felt guilty for being stimulated, like it was my fault.
I was so scared and confused that I started sobbing, my eyes stinging with tears.
“Shh-shh-shh, it’s okay.” he tried to reassure me in a breathy whisper thick with lust. “I love you baby, my little Sabrina.”
As I wept and he continued rubbing my pussy I kept steadily stroking his cock, like I was afraid to stop.
Since my arm was behind me, my hand around his shaft, he’d sort of slipped his arm under mine to get to my pussy, so when he suddenly moved his hand up towards my head it kind of pushed my arm up, forcing my hand free of his cock momentarily.
Maybe I should have taken the opportunity to reclaim my hand but instead I instantly reached back to reacquire his stiff penis, feeling almost panicky that I would somehow be in trouble if I wasn’t jacking him off.
I had slammed my eyes shut when I’d started crying but when his hand moved up towards my face and his head leaned more into me my eyes instinctively snapped open to see what he was doing.
His face was close to mine as he began licking and sucking my juice from his fingers, making yummy sounds and finally whispering, “I love the taste of your sweet pussy Sabrina.”
His voice was slightly slurred, smelling of bourbon, and thick with a malevolent kind of lust that frightened me but weirdly made my pussy tingle at the same time which instantly made me feel guilty, but before I could even begin to get my head around that his hand flew down my body to once again dip into my wellspring.