My first language is not English, so I apologize. This is only one of many weird incidents in my life, and I will keep writing as long as people choose to read my story. I hope you enjoyed it. Please be advised that this material is highly graphic and may not be suitable for all audiences.  
 
CHAPTER 01 ERIK

Erik 19 years old

6'4" 

 
  My name is Erik, and my uncle and I were the last remaining members of our family. My uncle brought me up, and I have been under his supervision since I was five. My entire life revolved around self-control, martial arts, sleeping, eating, and learning. There was no television or radio, only books; my uncle loved literature, so I read a lot, from my school to his library. My uncle did not believe in having fun; the most enjoyable activities for him were reading, scotch, and cigarettes. When he became my guardian, I was 5, he was 60, and his housekeeper, Joann, was 45 years old and a very gorgeous woman. Joann was about 5' 8" tall, with deep Hazel eyes, strawberry-blond hair, high chick bones, fat lips, little droopy breasts, and long legs; she never wore a bra. I always saw her wearing a light blue uniform, knee-high white stockings, and nurse-white clogs. I also knew she never used antiperspirants since I could always see the darker blue colour on her armpits uniform at the end of the day. Also, she never wore perfume since I could always smell her minty aroma, which I adored. When I was 12, she was 52, and I could not stop thinking about her. She lived with us from Monday to Friday and was off on weekends. Joann always had a colourful plate; she was a fruitarian and would make me a small plate of fruits to go with my lunch; I also made it a habit to eat largely fruit for morning. But I am still not sure how she managed to function just on fruits and veggies. For the past three years, the weekend girl was Karen, a 22-year-old chubby blond with blue eyes and short hair, a noticeable belly fat, large breasts, and about 5' tall. She appeared shy, and I kept away from her, just a hello and bye. Karen seemed to show an interest in me at times. Still, my situation was such that I had no actual contact with any girls; sometimes I would gaze at Karen's body and wonder how it would feel to have sex with her; even the fat on her body appealed to me sexually. Karen was nothing like Joann. Joann's physique was sculpted; her calves, her neck, and the way she walked and sat made her look like a beauty queen. Karen's figure was primarily fluffy fat, but she remained sexually attractive. However, Joann was a Goddess, whilst Karen was a maid in comparison. Karen's face was gorgeous, with her golden hair and deep blue eyes; she was always happy or unhappy, never in between. Overall, there was something incredibly sexual about Karen. My sexual attraction to Karen differed significantly from Joann's. I imagined myself at Joann's feet, wanting to adore her; she was more like a goddess. But Karen was more like a fuck, and I felt compelled to use her sexually. I was 19 and Joann was 59, still lovely; it seemed I could be happiest for the rest of my life masturbating and sucking on Joann's dirty socks and underwear, or at times dreaming about licking her sweat directly from her body; sometimes I wondered how Joann's urine would taste, or even if I could lick more of her urine from her underwear, or if I could drink her urine right after she peed in her toilet, but her room was always lucked when she was not there. I am sure I tasted some of her urine every time I sucked on her panties. Karen was 22, and in my mind, she was nothing more than a sex object. I could easily exploit Karen, but I had no urge to masturbate while thinking about her. My thoughts were limited to sampling whatever came from Joann's beautiful body and masturbating.

My uncle's house was downtown; he was a wealthy guy, but the space was modest. The main floor included a combined living room and kitchen, a study room, a bathroom, the master bedroom with its own bathroom, and another smaller bedroom that belonged to me; my uncle had the master bedroom. The living room and dining area were likewise merged, with 12 Polish chairs and a dining table, followed by a sofa, chair, and loveseat on a Persian carpet, complete with a coffee table. The entire back wall of the living room was a wall-mounted library, including all of my uncle's books. The lower level included another master bedroom with a bathroom, although not as large as the one on the main floor, a little smaller kitchen merged with the living room, a large pantry, and a study area, as well as the laundry room,  bathroom and a second smaller bedroom that was smaller than mine . Joann stayed there five days a week and used the Master Bedroom. The lower level's living area was likewise integrated, with six Polish chairs and a dining table, followed by a chair and a loveseat on a Persian carpet with a coffee table. The entire rear wall of the lower level was constructed of bricks.
 

Then there was the basement, which had almost the same size bedroom with a bathroom that was slightly smaller than the one on the lower level, two parking spaces, the gym with bathrooms, lockers, and showers, and the lounge with a couple of sofas. I use the gym frequently, 30 to 45 minutes right before my cold morning shower.

My uncle's favourite foods were soups and sandwiches. Breakfast was primarily BLTs with avocado and mayo, with coffee made with carnation-sweetened condensed milk. My uncle would add whisky to his coffee. Joann would make a couple of litres of coffee combined with condensed milk and store them in thermoses till the evening. Joann usually had several dozen sandwiches ready in the fridge and various soups on hand every day of the week, so there were always sandwiches in both the downstairs and upstairs fridges. Joann made fresh orange and apple juice, as well as many other varieties of fruit juice, on a daily basis. She made enough juice on Fridays to cover Saturdays and Sundays. The thought of Joann's hands making the meals and drinks made them even more delightful to me, and there were never any leftovers at the end of the week.

Joann was very militant in the presence of my uncle, but after I turned 12 or 13, I noticed that when it was just her and me, everything about her was flirtatious: the way she walked, sat, or smoked, and even when she was drinking, I found the movement of her neck muscles to be very erotic. When she sat with her legs crossed, her clog was usually dangling from her foot; sometimes she caught me looking at her foot and smiled, knowing I was embarrassed. When she was cooking, I would often look at her from behind, fascinated by how beautiful her calves and heels were, or when she would take one foot out of her clog and go on her toes, allowing me to see the sole of her foot in those thin white socks, I would have loved to get on my knees and lick the soul of her foot and masturbate. I am not sure whether she was conscious of what she was doing, but I always found myself digging through her dirty laundry and ending up chewing on her dirty underwear or dirty socks and jerkoff multiple times a day. When Joann was not here on weekends, the scent of her dirty clothing drove me insane. By the time I was 15, she was 55 and absolutely a Goddess; at this point, whether it was my imagination or not, I could see that her laundry was organized in such a way that I had enough of her dirty laundry to last me through my weekend of masturbation; sometimes I would masturbate 15 times from Friday evening to Sunday night.

I was born with an extremely short Refractory period, which allows me to ejaculate several times each day and still get hard and ready; as long as I eat well and drink plenty of liquids, I can continue to do so.

Every dirty piece of her clothing, from socks to underwear, smelled like mint and tasted bitter, but I loved it. Most of the time, I would find the white residue of some discharge inside her underwear, and I would suck on that until it was gone, as well as the darker colour on the hill, ball, and toes of her white socks, until they were white. I desperately wanted to swallow everything that came from her body. I recognized her taste and fragrance, and that was what drove me crazy and caused me to ejaculate up to five times a day, back to back.

My weekdays would begin with 30 to 45 minutes of exercise, followed by 5 minutes of a cold shower, and then I would watch Joann. My favourite time was when she had lunch in the kitchen up here, the way she sat, drank, and crossed her legs, but I kept most of my masturbation to the weekends. When I had her sock in my mouth, her taste was so appealing that I could cum in seconds just tasting her sweat on her socks. I thought how it would feel to lick her sweaty feet for real; god, that would be heaven for me.

  
My uncle was now 74 and quite sick, and he refused to leave his room. One Thursday afternoon, which also happened to be my 19th birthday, the doctor came to see him, and after a few hours, he gave Joann a prescription, which, as I subsequently discovered, kept my uncle primarily in a deep sleep. After the doctor departed, my uncle demanded to see me, so I went to his room while standing militarily, which he enjoyed seeing. He stated that he has always adored her sister, who was my mother. Then he informed me that I was a man now, and he was so glad and proud of me for finishing high school and how I turned out, and then he pointed to his cigarette case. 

I immediately brought him his gold cigarette case, and as he took one, I lit it with his gold lighter. As he took a deep drag on his cigarette, he told me that he would soon be gone, and that he would leave me the place and enough money in a European bank, which would pay me a very comfortable monthly interest for the rest of my life. He then told me that I should try to make something out of my life and not waste it.

 He also informed me that his lawyer would be here next week to complete the papers. He mentioned the boys' club, which was a gathering of lads from my school every Friday to seek new chances and innovations, and how vital it was for my future. I kissed his hand and wished him well. I returned to my room, unsure how to feel; I loved my uncle, but when he left, I would be free of his discipline. I could not care less about the boys' club or pursuing my schooling. My only thought was that after my uncle died, Joann would no longer be needed, and what would I do without her? I was addicted to her taste, or her sweat, and I could not imagine my life without Joann; perhaps I could still ask her to be my housekeeper; I needed to find a way to keep her around after my uncle was gone. I knew that when my uncle died, I would have no relatives at all; I had never considered it before; I felt lonely; I would inherit everything, including the house, his room, all of his clothing, which most likely fit me, his gold cigarette case and lighter, and even his gold watch. I suddenly thought of smoking; certainly, I will start smoking and possibly drinking, and then I fell asleep.

As I awoke, I remembered what my uncle had told me yesterday: I am a man now, and I must create something of myself; but, from Monday to Friday, all I could think about was when Joann would leave for the weekend, so I could get to her dirty laundry, suck on her dirty socks and underwear, and masturbate.