My Uncle Max

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My uncle Max is the coolest guy around.

You might disagree. You might even think I’m prejudiced toward him. And you might be right about the second one — but I say I’m totally right on the first point. And when you hear about him a bit I think you’ll agree.

I’ve been living with my uncle since I was 13, when my parents died. I was of course sad, but I didn’t really know them that well. They spent a lot of time abroad, and left me with nannies and other domestic help. I pretty much grew up on my own. I don’t think my parents really knew what to do with a kid, and decided they weren’t going to change their lives much.

I may sound like I’m complaining but I’m not really. I had everything a kid could want, as they sure weren’t poor. Every toy, new dresses and clothes, promise of a car when I turned sixteen, the best schools that money could buy, private tutors, and so on. So I don’t know if I entirely even missed them that much. It was always nice to see Mother, as she was a truly beautiful woman, always elegant and gorgeous-looking. Father was the same way. When they came home I had dinners with them, formal affairs that I was required to dress for and behave myself, and then one of them would come and sit with me in the evenings and read a story. Once in a while I was allowed to accompany them on evenings out, but most of the time children were not invited, and the highlights of my young life were when they would take me on annual month-long vacations — sometimes to Europe, or India, or South America. But that was the most time I ever spent with them.

We received the phone call that their plane had gone down over India two months after my thirteenth birthday. I hadn’t seen them since the day of my birthday, and I’ll always be grateful to them for that day — my last memories of them were absolutely wonderful. Of course I didn’t think this at the time, as I was just heartbroken. In retrospect – and I don’t mean to sound callous – this was only the start of a wonderful adventure for me.

Three months after my 13th birthday and a month after the funeral, while I was still wondering what was going to happen to me, my uncle Max — his full name was Maximilian – sailed into the NYC harbor. He lived on his own boat and thus hadn’t gotten word until he sailed into a port — after the funeral.

I’d met my father’s younger (and only) brother a few times. I knew my mother didn’t like him all that much. It wasn’t a strong feeling, I don’t think my mother had strong feelings on anything, but she simply felt he should settle down and be more responsible. As if they had much ground to stand on! So he wasn’t highly encouraged to visit. Still, he sent me presents every few months, from all around the world, and every year on my birthday would call for a few minutes and send me something especially exotic. The first time he came to visit was when I was only six, and the last time had been when I was 10. I hadn’t seen him since.

He sailed into port on a lovely cutter, his own. Docking it, he took a cab up to our home, in the process changing my life forever. He told me that one thing my parents had done — like him or not – was written my trust fund over to him. He said they had asked if anything happened to them that he was to take care of me until I was 18 and on my own. He asked me if I wanted to come with him, and told me that he would take care of all my schooling and all of my needs. I asked him if he wouldn’t mind, having to take care of some kid when he’d been single and childless all his life, and he hugged me tightly and said — “You’re not just some kid, sweetheart. You’re my brother’s child and my niece and I’ll always be there for you.”

And he kept his promise. Life with him was a whirlwind. We lived on the cutter, or sometimes, one of his yachts. He never settled anywhere. He didn’t neglect me even a little… I had a huge room of my own on all of his ships. He kept me in the same amount of things that I had had when I was home- new clothes, a cell phone, even a satellite phone in case I wanted to call when I was out to sea — who would I call anyway? He hired private tutors to train me. And yearly he would drop me off with one of his friends for a month or two, just in case I was sick of boat life and wanted some solid land under my feet. In truth I never tired of traveling, and I made enough friends among his crew that I was happy, but I never wanted to disobey him and stayed with his friends happily enough. They had daughters around my age, so I can’t deny it was fun.

This went on for five years. During that time I noticed my uncle changing in his attitude toward me and the way he treated me. He began to treat me less as his niece and more as….well, I’m not sure what. I think the life on the boat suited me well, for I found myself turning…well, rather attractive. We were of Russian stock, with last name Federov, but even my pale skin, once done burning, began to tan. I turned a lovely golden color, and I grew my hair out ataşehir escort and began to learn how to dress to suit myself and look elegant. My uncle also had a rule of dressing for dinner, but for him it was fun, as he would help me purchase clothes — always paying and then help me pick them out and mix and match. He had excellent taste. My eyes were cerulean blue, and my smile was infectious. I found uncle to be more and more affectionate as time went on, and considering how I had lacked affection all my life — my parents weren’t into hugs or displays of affection, though I knew they loved me — I eagerly agreed to his hugs and kisses and reciprocated even more.

I never entirely figured out what my uncle did for a living, before he retired to his boats. All I knew is that he was rich. Rich-rich-rich. And generous, and kind — for a man who had sworn up and down he would never have children, he was a wonderful uncle. And I think you might be starting to agree with me when I say he is the coolest guy around. But he only got cooler, in my eyes at least, and that is what this story is about.

When I was eighteen and finished high school, he dropped me off in San Francisco with a friend of his for the summer break, as he always did. I would much rather have stayed on the boat but I figured he might want some time to himself. I knew sometimes he had women, he didn’t attempt to hide it from me, and I knew now that they in no way would take any of his love or affection from me. I generally just was polite to them. I tried not to cramp his style, but I was sure he still appreciated the time away from me. How wrong I was to not know what he wanted most was his niece — in every sense of the word — and sending me away was his attempt at forgetting how he felt. It didn’t work that well, as you’ll see, and some of the fault — if there is blame to be passed — is my own. But I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?

“Uncle Max!” I squealed excitedly from the far end of the dock and ran to him. My luggage stood there, abandoned, next to all kinds of packages.

He grinned broadly, and stood up on the deck, straightening his back. The S.S. Intrepid was in dock, and he’d come to pick me up, after a month of delay.

I ran down the San Francisco pier, leapt lightly over the railing, and threw myself into his arms as always. I reflected that I probably wouldn’t be able to do this much longer, as I was getting quite tall and long-legged. Still, for now it was OK to continue doing so.

He’d dropped me off for some time with a family friend in California, since I had summer vacation, and he wanted me to feel as much like a normal kid as was possible. I knew I sometimes made uncle feel like a real hero, the way I treated him. My adoration of him was painfully obvious.

He seemed a bit distracted, and I drew his attention back by kisses all over his face. I even dared to give him a quick kiss on his lips, feeling his moustache bristle against my mouth. He looked surprised but didn’t complain. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

“Uncle Max, I missed you! You stayed away too long.” I turned and waved to the driver who had dropped me off. He waved back, and proceeded to drive away.

“Can we go? Is the boat all done? Oh, I missed her so much!”

He smiled, ever indulgent. “Yes, we’ll be leaving within the hour. Joseph! Get my niece’s stuff.” He called to one of his crew.

Putting his arm around me, he led me below decks. “Your usual room is ready. I hope you had a good time with John & Marcy?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, they were really nice, and so was Suzie.” Suzie was their daughter, and uncle had figured it would only do me additional good if I could spend time with a girl my own age.

“But it’s most fun here with you,” I continued, and ran on ahead into my room. I heard him chuckle as he followed behind.

The Intrepid was a fine sailing vessel, and not small by any definition. Inside my stateroom he’d had his crew unload all of my things, which had been packed away neatly for a month. I ran from side to side, picking up each item and examining them to see if they had changed any. I turned when she heard his step at the door.

“So Uncle, where are we going to this time?”

Sitting on the armchair in her room, he leaned back expansively. Without hesitation I went over and sat right down in his lap. I put my feet on the opposite side of the chair and snuggled up against him. After a moment, he wrapped his arms around me. He was warm and comfortable.

“I missed this,” I murmured softly into his ear.

He stroked my hair gently, smoothing it back from my forehead. “Well, I figured since we’re starting at San Francisco, and since it’s still your summer vacation, we’d head west. We’ll stop by Hawaii, then Fiji, and if we still have time, maybe even swing by Indonesia and Jakarta, ending up in Tokyo. In Tokyo, we’ll pick up a tutor for you so you can start college, and avcılar escort then we’ll go from there. How does that sound?”

Since they were on the move so much, and he didn’t want my education to fall behind, he spared no expense, and hired tutors to come live on the boat for a month or two at a time and train me privately. I was a bright young girl, thankfully, and took to tutoring easily.

“Wow, that sounds great, Uncle! I can’t wait. I don’t think you took me to Fiji before, have you?”

He shook his head. “Nope. This’ll be the first time.”

I grinned. “Jeez, I must be the luckiest girl in the world. Get to go to all these places, see the world — have I told you you’re the best uncle ever?” I kissed his cheek, a big hard smack, and jumped off his lap. “I better take a shower, and dress for dinner.” I said the latter in a sarcastic, slightly amused tone since I had to “dress for dinner” rule on his boat. I actually really liked it, but I never missed an opportunity to rib him on it.

He laughed. “Not here five minutes and already back-talking. All right, I’ll see you then.” He went out.

I showered and changed. While I was showering, I could hear the boat leaving the San Francisco docks. I was looking forward to our trip in the Pacific. I dressed in a simple sundress, and put on a pair of sandals. I preferred to walk around deck barefoot, but for dinner Uncle Max insisted on shoes. I also wore a gold necklace he had given me for my sixteenth birthday, a gold pendant with my first initial on it.

Oh that’s right, I haven’t told you my name yet, have I? Sorry. It’s Lillian. My uncle calls me his Lily. And now, back to the story with no more interruptions.

Now ready, with freshly washed hair, and wearing the perfume he had once said he liked more than any other, I made my way up to his private cabin, the captain’s cabin, on deck. I call it a cabin but it was really more than even a stateroom…it was a suite, really. His rooms were the rooms of a man who knows how to have a good time. It consisted of three rooms, a den, a dining room, and his own bedroom. Many was the night that he and I had cuddled on the couch and watched TV, or talked until late at night. It seemed Uncle Max didn’t mind talking to someone so much younger.

When I entered, his staff was setting the table for dinner. In the background was playing J.S. Bach’s Concierto for Two Violins in D Minor. (I had picked up a lot of culture practically by osmosis, around uncle.) I greeted them all by name, and they greeted me happily. “Your uncle will be out in a second, Lillian. Don’t you look lovely, Lillian. My, how you’ve grown up, Lillian.” And so on and so forth. In a way they were like my family, too, though they rarely interfered in anything we did.

Uncle came in looking quite distinguished. He wore a pair of tan slacks and a button-down shirt over it. Casual yet dressy. He looked good to me and I hurried over and hugged him tight. “Hey, uncle, what’s for dinner?”

It seemed to me his arms lingered longer around me than usual, but I didn’t think much of it as he sat down and placed me in his lap. He leaned down and inhaled my scent. “My, don’t you smell lovely? Is that that perfume I gave you?”

I nodded. “It’s my favorite.”

“Mine, too. As for dinner, how does a nice dinner of catfish cooked Cajun-style sound to you?”

“Mm, catfish is my favorite dish.” He cuddled me on his lap — one of my favorite activities — until dinner was served, and then seated me next to him.

After dinner, the servants cleaned up and we retired to his den to watch some movies. I was tired, though, and soon enough fell asleep curled up in his arms.

I awoke some time later to being carried. I murmured and turned over in his arms. “Wanna stay with you.”

He hesitated. I had slept in his bed before, but it had been a while since the last time. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, sleepily, and put my arms around his neck. “All right, then, why don’t you change? I think you left one of your t-shirts here last time.”

I plodded off to the bathroom obediently enough and changed into a long t-shirt I usually wore to bed. It reached almost to my knees and had my favorite character on it, Chococat. I even had matching panties with a little Chococat head right in the front. I found these wrapped up in the shirt and put them on too, then shuffled back out and right into his arms.

So it was that I ended up sleeping in my uncle Max’s bed that night. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and I snuggled close. My parents had never let me sleep with them, and I loved the feeling of being warm and safe with him.

I awoke some hours later feeling strange. I was usually a very deep sleeper, and rarely woke up once asleep. Even now it took me a second to figure out what had awoken me, but soon enough I realized what it was.

Uncle Max was holding me, tenderly, from behind, with one arm under my neck, avrupa yakası escort wrapped around me, and I felt something hard pressing into my bottom. I felt his warm breath on the back of my neck. But even that wasn’t what had awakened me.

His other hand was up my shirt, and was ever so lightly squeezing my left breast, as if to test its size and weight.

I realized all of this in a second, and my immediate reaction was to wait and see what would happen. I kept my eyes closed and my breathing even. I was nervous and a little scared, but at the same time I found I kind of liked what he was doing.

I’d never had a boyfriend before. I had been on the verge of perhaps starting to date when my parents had died but after they died I hadn’t wanted to go out with anybody. And since then I hadn’t lived anywhere long enough to really meet anyone. That only left the crew and they certainly wouldn’t have dared, even if I had been inclined to do anything else but spend time with my uncle Max.

So no one (well — except myself!) had ever touched me the way my own uncle was doing right now. I felt an odd sort of thrill shoot through me as he gently pinched my nipple. It was already rock hard against his palm.

A lot of thoughts flashed through my head in quick succession. I thought if I woke up he would be embarrassed and probably make me sleep separately from him. I thought there’d be all kinds of tension. I thought — did I really mind? I’d kind of known something like this was in my Uncle’s mind, didn’t I? I was old enough and certainly not naïve anymore. I thought maybe if I didn’t say anything he’d never realize I was awake. Mostly I didn’t think at all, but just lay there, still, breathing deeply.

His hand slowly slid to my other breast, and squeezed that one, then back to the first, as if comparing. I felt his breath, heavy on my neck. He very lightly pinched each nipple, making them spring into hardness. I felt weak as a kitten, like I could hardly move, and strange feelings were shooting through me.

His fingers encircled my areola, then in the valley between them, then up to my neck and back down. His fingers were rough and callused from the years on the boat. His breathing was steady but occasionally I heard a brief intake of breath. Uncle touched the mole I had between my breasts, lingered there for a second, ran his hand over my smooth belly, then back up. I found myself dropping into a sort of dreamy haze at his touch.

Time went on, as slowly as a dream, and I drifted in and out of consciousness. His hand didn’t move anywhere else, and often rested, holding my breast tenderly, for a long time. Then it would go back to stroking, touching, and even ever so lightly pinching. Eventually, soothed, I fell asleep.


I awoke in the morning still in my uncle’s bed. I rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty. Uncle Max was nowhere to be seen.

Last night came back to me in a flooding rush. Had my uncle really touched me the way he had? Worse, had I really liked it? I hesitantly slipped my hand under my shirt and across my own nipple. It stiffened almost immediately at the touch.

I closed my eyes and pictured him touching me again, and I was surprised at the instant rush of desire. I felt a longing to touch myself. I’d never really learned to masturbate properly, but I had a method.

I rolled onto my belly. I cupped one hand inside the other, and slipped them into my panties. I let the knuckles on my thumb press against my clit, and I began to hump my own hands, slowly at first, then more urgently. Doing this in uncle Max’s bed — when he could walk in any second — was downright filthy. I could smell him on the pillow and I even saw a few of his hairs still attached to it. I imagined him walking in. I imagined him scolding me, or maybe just watching. Most of all, I imagined what he had done to me last night.

I grunted a little as I came…just the faintest little waterfalls over me, little prickles and the wash of feeling. As I came, though, I whispered “uncle max!” to myself. I lay there for a moment, panting.

Removing my hands, I stood up and began to get ready, using his shower and putting on some of the clothes I kept here for just such an eventuality.

The day went normally enough, spent in sailing. My uncle greeted me on the deck with no apparent remembrance of last night, though he did seem to be even more affectionate than usual. He tousled my hair and continued my training on how to run the boat, which I had started last time I was here.

The only difference I could see was that he insisted I sleep in my own bed tonight. I found myself shivering at his touch, and I rather wished he had invited me back. I was dying to know what happened next. How far would my uncle take it? And would it feel as nice the second time?

When I went to bed that night, I left my door unlocked. It was a warm night, so I had no blankets on me tonight. And perhaps most telling of all, while the t-shirt was the same, underneath I wore a pair of silk teal panties I had purchased some time ago.

I lay in the dark for a long time. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, but…eventually, I heard the door open.

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