My Love for Roger
He was my aunt's husband. They were married when I was about six. Aunt Diane was blonde and glamorous; Uncle Roger was quiet and serious, with pale features and dark hair. My favourite early recollection of him dated from when he visited my parents' house one summer with Aunt Diane. He wore a blue and white t-shirt, white shorts and casual shoes with no socks. I was fascinated by his legs, lightly dusted with hair, and by his chiselled ankles. How I wanted to touch them. He was always very kind to me, but loved his wife very deeply, that was obvious, and would probably be appalled by my thoughts about him. By the time I was into my teens I was painfully in love with him to the point of obsession. My fantasies were intense and knew no bounds.
I was twenty and fucking a different girl every week - I knew I was attractive to women with my blue eyes and blonde hair. They all fancied 'that cute young Nathan'. But they weren't what I wanted. I began to toy with the idea of sex with men and one evening after work my thirty year old married boss made a pass at me in his office. I let him suck my cock and then he began to undress me. When I stood naked before him he asked me to bend over his desk, which I did. He rimmed my arsehole until I itched for penetration. I left his office with his spunk in my bowels.
Over the next few years I had sex with a string of men. Once I even shagged an old pensioner of 83 who I met in a public toilet and who begged for my cock in his hole. He loved my body and lavished presents on me in exchange for spending nights in his bed. He spent hours fondling my penis, my balls, my anus and also my bare feet, which he loved to rub his big cock against.
At the end of last year Aunt Diane died after an operation. Uncle Roger was so distraught and lost that my mother was really worried about him and asked him to stay with us for a while instead of living alone, for he and my aunt had had no children. I was suddenly wildly excited, for he would have to share the big bed in my room.
At last I was able to see him removing his clothes, and I almost came in my pyjamas when I saw his naked chest, his bare feet and tight buttocks. We talked in bed every night and eventually I made him laugh again. One hot summer night a couple of months ago I told him I just had to shed my pyjamas, which I did. I playfully began to unbutton his pyjama jacket and his eyes met mine. It was then that I finally threw caution to the wind, leaned towards him and kissed him full on the mouth.
He didn't try to push me away but said afterwards that perhaps it was time he was thinking of going home. I pulled off his pyjama top, threw back the duvet, pulled down his pyjama bottoms and took his rapidly hardening penis in my mouth. I explored every inch of his body with my lips and tongue, ending with his anus. I pushed his long legs back towards him in order to have full access. The dark hair around his hole was wet with my slavish licking. I lifted his feet onto my shoulders and positioned my erection at his entrance.
I looked at him. He was still more than a little appalled by what I had done but nodded his agreement after a moment and I thrust the swollen head of my dick into him. He gasped, but allowed me to continue and soon the skills I had learnt in the beds of other men were giving my darling Roger intense pleasure and gratification as I at last made love to him with frantic urgency. He arched his back in orgasmic ecstacy as my semen jetted into his bowels.
Later I lowered myself onto his rigid organ and rode him until I felt the rush of his juice into me. We lay together afterwards, our naked bodies entwined. Uncle Roger was now, I instinctively knew, no longer my uncle but my adored and adoring lover.
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