Notes

My Uncle's Secret Shower
pornstories started when I was fourteen. My uncle had moved in with my family since he couldn't afford his own place, and had taken to coming home from work early every day—usually at the same time as me. At first I didn't think much of it; our house wasn't that big after all, so it made sense for us to overlap occasionally. But then things started happening.

One afternoon, I came home from school a little earlier than usual and heard the sound of running water coming from upstairs. It sounded like someone was taking a shower—and sure enough, when I rounded the corner in the hallway near my bedroom, there was steam billowing out of the bathroom door that led straight into my uncle's room. The light was off inside, which told me something else entirely: he wasn't just showering because he wanted to get clean…he was doing something else entirely!

I felt an odd mix of curiosity and fear wash over me as I stood there in the hallway for what felt like forever before finally mustering up enough courage to go investigate further. When I pushed open the door ever-so-slightly, what met me on the other side nearly stopped my heart: my uncle and another man were standing beneath one of those fancy rain showers they have in live action Teen Titans movies! They were both completely naked and engrossed in their own little world full of passion and pleasure as they explored each other's bodies with their hands…I could feel myself blushing hotter by the second at this sight.

I quietly closed the door again without disturbing them (as if that would make any difference) but not before getting an eyeful of what two consenting adults can do behind closed doors…or should I say locked doors? As soon as I'd collected myself enough to walk away down stairs, I realized how lucky we were that no one else had seen or heard anything suspicious going on upstairs–it'd be all too easy for rumors about us to spread like wildfire around school if anyone did find out!

Of course, this didn't stop me from feeling guilty every time my uncle came downstairs afterwards looking refreshed (and with a hint of embarrassment hiding behind his eyes). We never talked about what happened between him and his friend–nor did we need to–but it was always lurking somewhere in our minds whenever we saw each other again after those couple months living together under our roof. Even now almost ten years later when we meet up for dinner or catch a movie together sometimes, there will still be these silent moments where neither one of us really knows how to start speaking about whatever went on back then…but hey; maybe some secrets are better left unsaid anyway?


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