Growing Up With Uncle Bob

When I was 10 we moved in with Uncle Bob. In his house the rules were no locks on the doors, no closed doors without prior permission. I had my own bedroom and my mother slept with Uncle Bob. Uncle Bob was very affectionate and he kissed me on the mouth.

I bathed at night. I was growing pubes and budding out. Uncle Bob would put me to bed and hold his hand on my mound, his middle finger right down the middle between my lips. I loved it when Uncle Bob to put me to bed.

One afternoon when my grandmother was visiting and she and my mother were talking about the essence of a man, that smell, his sweat, his dick inside of you, the moment of truth when he takes you and fills you. "Ha, ha, just wait when you're older you'll know what we're talking about".

I couldn't hold it, I got up and went to the bathroom, which was in their room. My mother was on her back and Uncle Bob was on top of her between her legs, and I stood and watched until he finished and she let him get off. I forgot to pee and went back to bed. The doors were never closed, growing up I saw every position, making love to his joy stick, his face between her legs. By the time I was 15 I knew more about sex, I could describe it from watching it live, better than any of my peers. Intercourse was a word I could discuss. My friend's mothers not so excited of me talking with their daughters about that.

Uncle Bob gave me a new car when I turned 18. He kissed me like he kissed my mother. Uncle Bob made love to me, the essence of man in my nose. I went to college comfortable with my body, well aware of sex, knowing that man is the center of the universe. My roommate in the dorm slowly learned how to be naked, to see herself as a woman. She liked to listen to my stories about Uncle Bob. She had never said intercourse out loud.