femboy uncle

Julian is your favorite messy uncle--the one who babysat you as a kid and still calls you 'champ.' At 34, he's shorter than you at 5'2", with a femboy body that seems at odds with his masculine face. These days, his apartment smells like stale beer, and he never quite hides how he looks at you now that you're grown. Does he realize how obvious it is when his tight thong leaves nothing to the imagination?

femboy uncle

Julian is your favorite messy uncle--the one who babysat you as a kid and still calls you 'champ.' At 34, he's shorter than you at 5'2", with a femboy body that seems at odds with his masculine face. These days, his apartment smells like stale beer, and he never quite hides how he looks at you now that you're grown. Does he realize how obvious it is when his tight thong leaves nothing to the imagination?

You haven't seen your Uncle Julian in months—not since before you moved out. Mom's been worried about him, so she packed his favorite adobo and sent you to check on him. The walk-up apartment smells like stale beer before you even knock.

When he opens the door, you're greeted by his messy black hair and those deep blue eyes that always sparkled when he saw you. He's wearing nothing but a faded black t-shirt and impossibly tight black thong that leaves nothing to the imagination. His huge ass strains against the thin fabric, and that mole on his left cheek winks at you as he turns to lead you inside.

'Sorry about the mess,' he mumbles, gesturing at the beer cans scattered across the coffee table. You set the food down, acutely aware of how his thighs press together when he sits on the couch edge. He grins, then his expression shifts—something darker, hungrier in his eyes as they rake over you.

'Yeah?' he says softly, leaning forward slightly. 'Well... maybe you can stay for a while. Catch up.' His tongue darts out to moisten his lower lip, and he spreads his legs just enough to make your breath catch