Warnings: This work contains spanking, voyeurism, anal sex, explicit sex and explicit language.
ALSO AVAILABLE IN PRINT
"Wow. This story is most definitely not for the faint of heart....[T]his story is hot enough to burn the pages, but it also shows that with death you can also have love."-Claudia R., Manic Readers Reviews, 4/5 STARS
"[Parker Ford] writes scorching hot love scenes to compliment the somber tone of a man dealing with his wife's death...She has given her readers a near perfect balance...Who can resist the sexy older alpha male? Those alphas are like a fine wine and only get better with age." -Dakota, Dark Diva Reviews, 4/5 DIVAS
"The writing is vivid, sharp, and precise as emotions (guilt, grief, passion) are examined...Overall, Uncle Ed's Lap kept me engaged...it's exceptional whenever an author is willing to bring taboo subject matter to life, and do it justice." -Patrice F., Joyfully Reviewed
"Parker Ford has mastered the technique of writing sexual tension. It explodes off the pages...The sex was fully described and scorching hot! ... If you want to push the boundaries of your erotic reading experience, Uncle Ed's Lap is an excellent place to start." -LynnMarie, HEA Reviews, 5/5 CUPS
"The writing is smooth and titillating...Parker did a wonderful job incorporating a taboo subject with arousing sexual content with the sometimes-unexpected places a person can find love and comfort...Don't shy away from Uncle Ed's Lap because of the content warning or you will miss out on a wonderful story that will have you sweating with the steamy love scenes and emotionally poignant moments..." -Seriously Reviewed
Fantasies were just fantasies. You didn't have to act on them. Right?
I busied myself cleaning the kitchen. Bachelors suck at cleaning. So do young coeds but hey, I was bored and my mother Marie had taught me well. Cleanliness was next to godliness, plus if you threw yourself into it, it could make the afternoon fly in an blink. I ate cucumbers from the garden with homemade ranch sauce uncle had made the night before for dinner. That was all I really had the stomach for. I poured a big glass of lemonade and downed it in four long swallows. Then I started rearranging the cabinets and wiping down the liners. The worst chore I could imagine from my growing up years. Now it seemed to soothe me.
"Wow. I had no idea I would come home to such a tight ship," he said from the doorway. I jumped, a china plate shattering at my feet. A thousand tiny jagged teeth of china scattered around me on the red tile floor. Barefoot and in turquoise shorts instead of jeans, I was pretty much fucked. "Shit, I'm sorry, Fiona." He colored when he said my name aloud and my cunt responded with tightening warmth. "You're bleeding."
I looked at my calf where a thick nearly black rivulet of blood trickled slowly down my leg. "It's no big deal. Just as shard. But I am kind of...stuck." I shrugged, feeling horribly stupid. "I'm so sorry. I can go on ebay and try to replace it. I'm such a klutz!" I felt like I might start sobbing right then from frustration.
"Hey, I scared you. Don't talk about ebay or any of that. Stay there. I'm gonna grab you and take you in the dining room, then I'll clean up this mess."
His work boots crunched over the china shards as he picked me up and carried me out. He set me on the table and put my foot on one of the ladder back chairs. "Let me get the bandages."
I nodded, suddenly feeling little and helpless again. Letting him care for me the way he had when I was a little girl and I'd skin my knee. He caught that far away look when he came in. "You okay? You're not cut anywhere else are you?"
I looked. "Nope. Just there. Not too shabby considering the immense mess I made."
"We made," he amended. "You never would have dropped it if I hadn't startled you." He wiped the cut with a wet cotton ball. Wet with alcohol it seemed because fire bloomed in the cut and I hissed. "Easy, be good," he said, smiling. He blew on the cut to cool the sting. Just like old times. Only now, the feel of him blowing on my skin made my pussy keep a wet tempo with my heartbeat.
"Ugh," I said.
"Sorry it stings. It will be over in a minute. Promise."
I could only nod.
He squeezed a gem sized squirt of antibiotic lotion on and covered it with a big square bandages. "To keep it all covered," he said. His fingers smoothing the flesh colored cloth covering made me shift on the table. I felt trapped by his presence, the very hugeness of him and my pulse jumped at my throat from a mix of excitement and fear. So close like this I could picture him beating off to me. As close as we were, I could picture his hands pushing my legs apart. I could imagine a million scenarios I shouldn't. "Thanks," I managed.
"You sure you're okay?" He turned my chin so I had to look at him. I nodded and swallowed hard.
"Yeah," I said, thinking inside, God, just kiss me, kiss me already, kiss me and then touch me and we'll pretend it never ever happened, I swear...
It took a second for it to register his hands on my thighs, his long finger splayed out so they pointed like traitors to my pussy. Uncle Ed leaned in, his lips brushed mine so softly it was more like a kiss of wind than a person. I opened my mouth, spread my legs, begging him with my body. More.
I buried my hands in his too shaggy hair--I'd try to make sure I scheduled him a cut--and pulled him in tighter, closing my legs around his hands and scooting forward just a touch. I wouldn't think that I shouldn't do this. I'd think about how good and right it felt. Fuck feeling shamed.
"Fiona, I shouldn't..."
"I know...I do, but..." His fingers slipped over the hot moist V at the crotch of my shorts. I broke off in moan. It was like being burned, electrocuted, smacked so hard the blood seems like acid when it rises to the surface. I wanted his touch so bad that just a fingertip made my mind go red and my heart skip wildly.
"Don't make that sound," he said, but swept another finger along where the first had been. Two fingers running soft patterns over the crotch of my snug shorts. Over my pussy. Fuck. Directly over my clit.
"Sorry," I said. I tried, but another sound, deeper and more needy slid off my lips into the air.
Uncle Ed shook his head, no, no, no. But he popped the blue button of my shorts and tugged at the zipper. I raised up, shimmied, helped him get them off. He tossed them as he pulled at my panties and the shorts landed on the secretary. My tank was snatched off with ease. I don't wear bras, usually. "Spread your legs for me, Fiona," he said.
A hot rush of fluid puddled between my legs, and his fingers played through it like he was painting me. My head fell back and I sank into the feel of him. His mouth on my nipple. He kissed me and shushed me all at once. Like a child, like something precious. I watched his dark head as he kissed a path from my breast to my belly button. I arched up, trying to be quiet like he wanted when his mouth found my pussy and he sucked. His mouth was impossibly hard and then impossibly soft and then a tongue of perfect blazing wetness over my clit. "Oh, Uncle." I wanted to tell him how good it felt, how good he was. How perfect his mouth was on me and how it was what I wanted. So bad. What I needed--so much.
"Shh, Fiona. Don't."
So I didn't. I curled my fingers around the edge of the table and I held on. The bright afternoon sun trickled through the slats of his blinds and splashed across my belly. His dark head worked between my legs, I touched his hair, arching my pelvis to meet his mouth, greedy little girl wanting him to lick her. "I'm going to"
He shoved his fingers into me, curling and pressing against all the singing nerves. I gasped, my belly muscles rippling with my orgasm and my effort to hold myself up. I didn't bother. I lay back, giving over to him completely as he fucked me with his fingers, licked me with his tongue. Uncle Ed pushed my legs wide like a slut and attacked me with is mouth, he kept going, raking his dripping tongue over my clit. "Give it to me, one more, Fiona," he demanded and sucked my clit hard. Tiny purple spots filled my vision and I came for him again.
"Oh, uncle Ed, I--"
But he was standing, his face angry, his shoulders heaving. He wiped the shiny evidence of my juicy pussy from his face and I felt suddenly wrong. Bad. I had never felt more naked.