Read Uncle Ed's Lap for Free Online Page B

bed, face down. His lips traveled every inch of skin he had just tortured. His tongue and fingers gentle and soothing as he kissed it better, smoothed it better. I pushed up to meet his touch and let the tears leak out of my eyes and douse my white sheets. He pushed two pillows under my hipsone, two, plump and clean. He slipped his fingers into me, pressing and thrusting until an orgasm swelled inside of me and I cried out, losing my ability for silence.
    “There you go, good girl.” He said. His zipper sounded like a gunshot, his belt like the Liberty bell. The slide of his jeans over his skin sounded like a freight train. Every sense I had was ratcheted up to huge. I let him part me, my body limp and loose and willing. He slipped himself inside of me as effortlessly as his fingers. Slow even strokes as he fucked me, fingers biting into my hips, holding me still so he could bang into me with a pounding rhythm that matched my heart. He rode me, me draped over the hill of pillows as his fingers plucked at my searing skin. He palmed the welts, pushed the bruises, milking fresh jolts of pain as he fucked me deeper. The pain morphed and twisted into pleasure until my fingers tangled in the slatted headboard so I could hang on. I rose up and back to meet him, begging him to go deeper, harder.
    “Touch yourself for me, Fiona. Come with me. Be my good little girl. Listen to your uncle, now.” He said it all in his warm lilting caramel voice. I shoved one hand under me, taking ever blow of his hard dick that he delivered. I circled my clit, thumping with my pulse until something in him broke and he howled in the small quiet room, his hand gripping at my ass, my back, my thigh like he was drowning. He clutched at me and I pinched my clit, coming with him, tensing up around him, my pussy sucking his cock dry as he emptied into me.
    He lay flush atop me and we heard the birds in the pear tree again. His heartbeat kept time with mine, the sweat cooling on our skin.
    “They see the fox,” I said softly, running my fingers though the dark hair on his arm, tracing the sun whitened scar on his skin.
    “What fox? There's no fox brave enough to run around here in the day time. We're kind of in the city, love.”
    “I've seen it.” My eyes started to drift and I got sleepier when he started to pet the throbbing marks on my bottom. It felt so good now that it was over. I wondered what it would look like. Would I bruise? I wanted to get up and check but I was too boneless and sleepy.
    “You're crazy,” he said, kissing the back of my neck. “I'll make us some food. You rest. That takes a lot out of you.”
    And it had. “I've seen it,” I said again.
    “You're crazy,” he repeated. He shut the bedroom door gently.
    “Like a fox,” I said to no one.
    The rest of the afternoon we worked in the garden. The thunderstorm passed and the air was a tiny bit cooler. Not much, but enough that we could trim and yank and weed. All the things I adored doing in the overgrown back yard. It took me half the afternoon to find the stone angel in the back section by the gazebo. My shower before lunch was long gone and gnats hovered close to my sweaty skin drawn by the salt on my brow.
    “Ah, you found her. She always was your favorite thing out here. We have pictures of you inside, as a little girl, having a tea party with the angel.”
    I traced her face with my fingertips. Black from time and rain and weather, she was still gorgeous. Her right hand held and open flower that could be filled with bird seed. I dug in my pockets, coming up empty. Uncle Ed handed me a coin. I turned it over in my hand and checked out the year. 1989. I was freshly nine when the coin had been minted. I put it in her hand and smiled. “There you go.”
    “Why did you always do that? Leave her coins?” He came in closer, into the overgrown cover of ivy and small dogwoods, wild flowers and vines. No one could see us back here. Not yet. Not until we got the clippers and