THE TURGID DETAILS
“Open that suckhole, Malory.”
Maybe if I didn’t think of him as Uncle Chuck, I might be able to get through this after all. I parted my lips and tentatively kissed his bulb — my uncle shivered and sighed, and then grunted appreciatively. His hands clasped either side of my head and held me in place.
“That’s nice,” he breathed.
I looked up and found him staring down at me, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed. He pumped his hips, and the entire plum now filled my mouth. My jaw stretched wide to accommodate its size, and I felt and tasted his juicy drool on my tongue. Despite my shame, I began quivering with excitement. His stink and his hardness and his overpowering male dominance were turning me on in spite of myself, and I tried to quell my self-loathing. I twitched reflexively down below, grew moist, and my sense of shame grew stronger. I moaned despairingly around the fat pole of flesh stuffed in my mouth as my traitorous body betrayed me.
“You naughty little tramp,” Uncle Chuck said softly, “you like it, don’t you.”
I nodded, now eager to please him in order to get this over with. Slowly, I cherry-popped his plum, licking the underside of it, and then steadily engulfed more of him, taking my time while greasing his pole with my spit. He groaned, his fingers twisting in my hair, and my excitement grew as I realized he was enjoying my expertise. My cunt quivered again, and this time I felt a small thrilling chill move through it.
I leaned forward until his knob was pressed against the back of my throat and his copious lubrication was trickling down my hatch. I gagged reflexively, and then relaxed, my face now pressed into his trembling pubis, completely immersed in hair and sweat and testosterone. Grunting, I slid a hand up the inside of his thigh and tweaked his balls. He gasped, and then chuckled lewdly.
“You trashy little tart,” he croaked. “You’re damn good at this.”