My compelling space

Young and Old, Butt-plug, 

I was so excited, and so I should be.

I was back from my senior college school French trip to Paris and recently turned eighteen. The reason for doing the language at school: well, the trip: Hurr Durr.

The youthful journey of my young life. My close girlfriends theirs too. Heaps of selfies and group poses backdropped by the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe. Then, at Montmartre, after the view from Sacre-Coeur, we all found that kitschy souvenir that defined Paris for us.

A silhouette outline of the city of loves famous landmarks on a white background: a concocted image designed for youthful tourists. Yeah, too many francs easily parted with in a spur-of-the-moment decision, but we believed the impulsive splurge was good.

I love a visual object that recalls a great time.

Since my return, I have shown off my silhouette design, which is stuck on my bedroom wall, along with trinkets and photo snaps from Paris, to anyone even remotely interested.

Wow, it was already three weeks ago. But I was still self-absorbed in my incredible recent journey.

I was so innocent; you must understand as I invited my step-uncle Axel into my room before a full general invite relative's family dinner for my parent's tenth wedding anniversary: to show him my trip stuff.

So, I wasn't entirely innocent, but I wasn't remotely interested in an older guy or a half-relative. Eugh!

I knew a few college guys. They got aroused easily, fumbled, and touched my wet pussy, which needed more than a stab and grunt into my wet slit. Which I enjoyed, but they jizzed in me before I peaked. Like all senior college girls, I was looking for a guy who could pleasure me like I secretly needed and release my inner climax without having to do it alone.

My uncle Axel—the youngest of my stepdad's brothers- was about forty. Rarely seen, but here for the big family event. But, of course, I wanted the more comprehensive family focus to remain on me and my trip.

Still, my moment was fading, my parent's anniversary dominating the dining room and patio and spilling out around our formal garden and pool area. I knew my Warhol and wanted more than my fifteen minutes of fame, though I could do with a guy that lasted fifteen minutes in me.

So, when Uncle Axel approached me, where I was sitting on the couch alone, to talk about my trip. Of course, I lit up and invited him to my room to see my trip stuff: what sort of girl do you think I am?

"Okay Sylvia, enough of the chit-chat," he said, "let's see what you have just described so well."

I was off down the long hallway with a skip in my step. Uncle Alex was going to see the lot.

I was compelled in my room to share in a youth-exuberant way. I was chuffed with myself in a young, girly enthusiasm as I showed off my: I love Paris silhouette wall sticker: 60 by 90 cm in black against my white room wall.

Very chic, I thought.

But, to his worldly eye, I wonder.

And now I wonder what he was looking at as I showed him the rest of my trip stuff.

Eventually, I realised it was me he was perving on.

Well, more than that, he had slowly — the experienced male bastard had been moving closer and closer to me.

Well, I had used the edge of my bed to sit and share my digital images of the city of love, flipping through them on my iPad.

But he had looked safe, unexceptional in his suit coat and matching trousers with an open-necked white shirt.

He was suddenly touching my hair, had his hand around my waist and found my soft neck for light caressing kisses before I realised it was happening. The touch instantly was so frickin good.

I accepted it—no uncle thoughts, in my senses, dominated mind.

His fingers undid my blouse buttons so dexterously.

My iPad hit the carpet, luckily in its protective case.

The adroit, cunning prick: I was nubile putty, and he knew it. My blouse was off, and my light pink bra was no barrier. It became a plaything. His fingers teased along the lace edge where it met the softness of my bosom. He let my nipples get hard by themselves as he petted my feminine softness and pampered my titty lushness in a way that drove me crazy.

I was pushing into him. My body demanded more instantaneously.

It was like the usual sex roles were reversed for someone my age. The guy is usually so impatient for cock and pussy play. The girl wants the finger brushing, the sensual tingly skimming and the shared building all over ready skin; total foreplay.

I wanted speed, yet he took it slow, deliciously slow.

So delicate when he finally unhooked my bra and cup-squeezed my perky breasts together. My nipples greeted his tweaking fingers and nuzzling tongue in playful joy.

Oh God, my tits defined me.

He made my nipples feel special. He sucked them. He sucked them. He just kept sucking them.

By the time his fingers moved under my skirt, he kept kissing all over my face, neck and tits, and belly button. I was so wet. My matching pink panties had the tell-tale girly aroused moisture leak—the smear of feminineness indicating readiness for penetration.

His confident fingers streaked my fem-creaminess over my pussy lips, igniting my clitty so quickly. He eased my girly foreskin backwards and forwards over my now-hard love button. He duplicated the action nearly precisely like I did to drive myself to an orgasm.

The combination of wetness, his finger easing in and out of my trimmed slit and his other fingers around my clit but not directly on it were so powerfully addictive.

The pleasure plateau I craved from a guy — my uncle was taking me there.

He guided my hand to his cock, his throbbing stiff cock, which I hadn't thought about in my encompassing delight in my own compelling, filled, girly space.

It was so big. So hard. I wanted it bad. I tugged it. It made his fondling of my private zone even more enjoyable—touch and being touched.

He asked me to suck his cock; now his pants and briefs were off. I did my best. I mean, I was over-excited. I was bobbing and ducking and sucking. I took him deep. I gagged a couple of times, but he was wonderfully considerate and encouraging. He held my head and guided my action. He got me into a flowing rhythm that had him groaning.

I liked that. He liked that.

He eased me off his cock. He was the dominant male, and I accepted it willingly. He guided my body backwards over my bed, quickly removing my skirt, panties, and my legs super spread.

I thought, yes, finally, a guy who will lick me out. Treat my pussy like slurpy wet ice cream, oozy creamy me, ready to be eaten.

"Oh God…yes…yes…yes…Oh fuck…Mmm…Yes…Yes…Ohh…Orrgh…Ah…Ah …Ah," then endless Ah's from me actually, as Uncle Axel, the knowledgeable sod, pinned both my legs back to my ears.

The flexibility of youth. And he spread my pussy with his fingers pressing my insides seemingly out and my private pinkness so vulnerable. My thighs nearly back to my face.

Hell, I could almost lick myself out as I saw his tongue—darting—darting —darting over my cunt.

I thought cunt in my mind, too, as I was rapt in the sensual, sensitive, sleek licking.

My cunt, yes, my cunt was made to be licked like this.

Quick, fast, deft licks—slow leisurely probing licks—awesome dirty backward licks from my cunt to my arsehole. The bugger was licking my arse, too, including my arsehole, in my growing delight. The pleasure was rapid and unassailably body-defining.

I loved my cunt—my cunt loved me—my uncle loved my cunt.

My body surprised me with the intensity of its response. The compelling needy space of my cunt and clit delivered a stunning tingly rapid orgasm.

Oh God, it was good.

My first under a guy's tongue and the first taste of my arsehole's power to join my sex pleasure matrix.

He turned me over, doggy. I knew the position. I had never been in it. I felt so vulnerable. So pussy exposed. I never thought of my arsehole, but Uncle Axel did.

He licked my arse intimately.

Goddamn sexily— I moaned and moaned.

Oh, it was good.

My sweet pucker, being heavenly, teased beyond its sensitive limits. His tongue rimming. His tongue slid in my crack. His tongue was doing rounds of my crinkled balloon knot. I would have eased away if he hadn't held my hips because it was too intense.

Oh, fuck, I loved my arse—I loved my arse—my sweet, adorable pleasure-giving arse.

I was nearly hyperventilating with joy when he released my butt crack from his magic tongue sway.

I panted.

He was sweating as he finally removed his jacket and white shirt. He got something from the inside pocket of his coat.

"I have something to show you," he said, turning me over.

"What," I said wide-eyed—what young woman doesn't like a gift?

It was a strange object—but compellingly eye drawing—metallic.

I was so innocent—it was bulbous but not a bulb.

I had no idea what it was for. It wasn't a dildo—I knew that much.

Uncle Alex asked me to lick it. The bulb was smooth—so smooth—strangely sexy.

His eyes enjoyed my sucking action over the metal.

He explained it was a butt plug.

I understood but didn't understand.

Finally, I did, and I didn't till he asked me to spread back over the bed.

My legs were back near my ears, my hands under my thighs. I felt everything open—my pussy—even my arse, as he told me to spread my cheeks, hold and spread my cheeks.

I watched him spit over the end of the steel plug. Then, he explained it was an anal trainer, perfect for my beginner's butt life because my arse was getting his cock.

My rear tunnel of sex, my arse tube, became a rampant space of desire as he eased the bulb carefully into me.

I felt my arse both tighten and flex—constrict like a vice—expand deeper like my pussy—but differently.

First, the tightness at the point of entry was so wincing and sensitive. Then the pushing in of my puckered ring, then the drawing out— the flex and constrict, over and over with the pleasure spasms buildings with a strangely vulnerable tightness—fuck, it filled my arse—inch by inch: and I wanted it all.

Uncle Alex gave me the complete plug.

Oh God, my arse felt great. My butt space was packed in a strangely compelling special way.

"Oh, fuck you…OH fuck me…YES…YES…YEAH…Ah, Ah," continual girly Ah's again as his hard fat cock rammed and jolted straight in and out of my pliable wet pussy.

I was so exposed. Leaning back, my legs now pressed to my ears virtually.

His cock was so deep inside me with each generous thrust. My butt was enjoying the raunch of the plug even more with my pussy filled.

My uncle's cock was so addictive that I didn't want the pumping, filling motion to stop.

I was a woman. I felt all woman—not a girl, as my two sex spaces gave me complete rapture.

I was lost in the ongoing thrusting in and out motion of cock. My body was a blur of happiness. I didn't believe my cunt could spread open so far, so deep and give me so much pleasure.

You realise Uncle Alex is smitten with your arse and compelled to be a filthy bastard.

But you take it. No longer surprised at your lack of scruples and morals as the plug is eased out, and his cock, glistening with your cunts copious moisture, is ready to deflower your dainty balloon knot.

The anticipated delights of your flesh seize your mind.

Filthy touch becomes the only touch you want. You crave cock in your arse.

He flips you over. Dogs-you, on the edge of your bed. He props all the pillows under you. Your arse left pointing to the ceiling as his body is over yours. You know he will take your arse deep, but you have no fear. He has prepped you.

As good as the plug was, his cock is better. Even unseen because it's his flesh working the space of your vice-holding skin ring.

You love your arsehole filled.

The unseen up-close interaction of his cock with your randy starfish remains unseen, but the pleasure swells start in your tight bum crack, amazingly expanded by his dick; the pressure on your sweet little hole is delectable. The stretched vice-like sensitivity is continually magnified and instantly addictive.

So good. So fuckin good. So dirty but so good. Endless bulging pleasure thrusts after swollen thrusts in your arse.

Yes, your arse.

Your uncle plugs your arse with his pecker like your arse has been waiting its whole young life.

Wave after wave of happy satisfaction fills you. His fingers find your clit too. He knows how to take care of everything. Your body, your orgasm, are all his.

Your arse is his to jizz too.

You feel the throb at your ring, the series of cock muscle jerky, flexi-ring expanding pulses.

Oh God!

Your clit explodes, too, as a cream filling expands in your butt hole.

You would have collapsed into the pillows if Uncle Alex hadn't held you.

Instead, he supports you, pumping on still to extend his and your pleasure beyond the point of orgasm release. He wants you to have it all, as he has it all. So he pushes the added relaxing joy for two until there is no more.

After you are presentable for your unsuspecting parents and relatives, but before you leave your room, Uncle Alex gives you a present.

The butt plug.

You accept it without a blush.

Of course, you can't put it on display. Of course, you won't show it to your girlfriends.

Well, not yet.

But do you think maybe Mandy is bi?

Young guys need more time to be ready for this kind of action, though they think they are.

You coyly ask Uncle Alex: Where is he staying after the dinner party finishes tonight?

He smiles and tells you to leave your bedroom window open at midnight.

We rejoin my boring, conversation-occupied extended family. It's a buffet.

I'm cornered on the patio by an aunt who wants to know about my trip.

I'm grown up now; screw Paris!.

My mind is already elsewhere. I'm sexually forward-thinking.

As we had the tiresome family dinner together: I realised I had got more than my fifteen-minute dream with a guy, and I squeezed my still-damp pussy between my thighs under my skirt. 

It felt good, and more importantly, I had a secret object to remind and excite me as I waited for midnight.

I visualised my new favourite toy. I would prep my arse and tease it. But I would let a man. A real man, savour my arsehole into expanding pleasure for two.

My newfound compelling space awaited its stunning happy cock filled vocation.

I started to enjoy my roast meat because I needed lots of energy for man-meat in my starfish later.