Uncle Jay Ch. 04 - Sex Stories

Uncle Jay Ch. 04

... care of the floor, please. Lita and I will be right back," declares Uncle Jay.

He takes my hand and leads me upstairs and into his bedroom. I start to protest, to announce that I can change my own clothes in my own bedroom by my own self, but he whirls around on me once we're past the threshold.

He eyes me up and down, hungrily, and I'm suddenly conscious of how heavily I'm breathing from the trek up the stairs.

"Remove your clothes, Lita," he growls. I immediately start to comply, but then force myself to slow down. Any halfway decent female love interest would never dare to hastily rip off her clothing. No, they'd be alluring and sexy with it, teasing. I...I can do that. I think.

My shirt is over my head as I make this decision to be provocative, so I ease it off of me the rest of the way and sling it across the room. It lands with a wet thud in the corner.

Uncle Jay raises a single eyebrow.

I inch my damp pants down my hips, down my legs, then kick them off my feet. I turn around, and slowly bend at the waist as best I can to retrieve my pants from Jay's carpeted floor. Slowly raising back into a standing position, I turn and toss my pants to a different corner of the room.

Jay licks his lips, staring at my cleavage.

As gracefully as I can manage, I reach behind me to unclasp my bra. I struggle momentarily and feel the warning pricks of perspiration on my forehead, but then the hooks are free and my bra is only held up by my own arms.

I release ...

... my arms' grip on the garment, and let my bra fall to the floor.

Uncle Jay clears his throat.

Lastly, I maneuver out of my sodden panties, letting them also collect on the floor beside my discarded bra.

The cool air sways around the room, and I'm perversely pleased when my nipples tighten.

Uncle Jay closes the gap between us in one stride, his hands perching on my shoulders as our foreheads touch. "Tell me when to stop," he whispers, hoarsely.

I'm confused for a moment, but then his hands slide down my chest and each claims a breast. He smirks just before each hand pinches a nipple and twists.

A noise escapes me, and Uncle Jay pauses, quietly asking, "Too much?"

He misinterpreted my sound; it wasn't a cry of pain, it was a spike of pleasure. I shake my head, whispering back, "Harder, Uncle Jay. Please."

As his fingers twist and tug at my sensitive nipples, I kiss up his chin until our lips meet. I taste a hint of his meal, and for some reason it makes me smile.

"May I introduce a little more pain to add to your pleasure?" he asks, nearly sounding out of breath.

I am unsure what exactly he has in mind, but my curiosity and desire make me feel bold. "Yes, Uncle Jay," I consent.

A devious noise comes from him and I'm about to laugh but he grabs the base of one of my breasts with his left hand, and smacks the nipple with his right hand.

I gasp.

He does it again, with a bit more force. I feel the stinging sensation from the slaps, but instead ...