"Well – I guess because they don't have a girl, huh?"

He nodded, holding his meaty tower of hot prick flesh at the hilt, the cock knob bulging and flaring.

"And do you know what happens after a while? After a man strokes his cock long enough?"

"I-I guess it feels real good and-and…"

"And what?" he asks, looking amused.

"And stuff shoots out."

"That's right. Thick, creamy stuff. Would you like to watch while I do that, Elizabeth? Humm? Would you like to watch the jism shoot out of my big prick?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth but no words came out. She didn't know what to say. She felt she should run from the room, and yet she had to admit that she wanted to stay – to see him shoot his cum-load.

Uncle Charley stroked his cock again, once, slowly. His cock head ballooned as his fist dragged down the prick stalk.

"Ooooh?" the girl moaned.

Charley smiled at the little whimper.

"Would you like to touch it?" he asked.

"It's wrong, Uncle Charley."

"Maybe. But it feels nice."

And she did want to touch his cock. Her hands were fairly burning for a feel, of that delightful prick. She knew that she was liable to be awfully ashamed of herself, afterwards, but at the moment she could not resist the unholy urge to touch his cock. She reached out, tentatively, then drew her hand back quickly, undecided, afraid to and yet wanting to.

"Come on," he rasped. "It won't hurt you, girl!"

Elizabeth reached out again.

This time her fingertips brushed the tip of his prick. It felt lovely – like a wad of hot iron encased in rubber.

Uncle Charley groaned with pleasure. Elizabeth wrapped her fist around his cock and began to pull it up and down the way she'd seen him stroking himself. Her hand skimmed lightly, at first, then she tightened her grip so that she was dragging the foreskin back and causing the prick knob to flare out like a hooded cobra. The excited girl bent over him, staring down at his prick. The cleft was parted and she could see silvery fluid bubbling in the piss hole.