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[Readers, be advised – slow, teasing build-up over a long, two-part story.]
*** Wednesday: Arrival ***
“Harvey, you don’t know how much we appreciate you doing this for us,” Sandra said on one of her passes. My sister was flitting frantically about the house, while her husband dutifully took their luggage out to the taxi. My offer to help had been refused in order that I could listen to my sister’s rambling but apparently important instructions.
“This is where we’ll be staying,” she said, thrusting a print-out at me. “If there are any problems, and I mean any problems, call us there. The number’s on the page. Well, actually, that’s the reservation line. Oh dear. Here, let me just get you the number for reception.”
“Honey,” her husband interrupted, “The taxi’s waiting. Harvey is a grown man. He can figure it out.”
I watched my sister in detached amusement. I’m not sure what warranted her frenzy. It wasn’t even her mother who had died; it was her mother-in-law. And it wasn’t like the old woman was going anywhere. The funeral was on Saturday, and it was still just Wednesday. But Sandra had always been something of a control freak.
“The tickets! Where are the tickets?” she cried, “You forgot the tickets! You forgot the friggin’ tickets!”
“Sandra! Calm down. Mary-Kate can hear you,” Bob insisted. “I’ve got the tickets. Let’s go.”
Leaning demurely against the wall, Mary-Kate watched the scene in silence. Even though it was late in the evening, she was still in her school uniform – a crisply pressed, white cotton shirt; a short, pleated, dark blue plaid skirt; stretchy, semi-sheer, white knee-high socks; and a pair of shiny, black, strap-and-buckle loafers.
“Mary-Kate is not to go out,” Sandra warned. “She’s got homework to do, and I don’t want to have to be worrying about her getting into trouble or an accident or anything.” My sister instructed me but glared at her daughter. Bob grabbed Sandra by the elbow and ushered her towards the door. “And no parties!” my sister added.
I looked over at Mary-Kate, who gave me a little rolling-finger wave. She looked a bit sheepish as if she realized that she had suddenly become a burden to me and wished it wasn’t necessary. To be honest, I really didn’t understand my need to be there. She was 18 and capable of looking after herself.
But on the other hand, she did act very young for her age. I was not very dutiful about visiting my family, so I hadn’t paid much attention to Mary-Kate as she was growing up, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my sister’s overzealous parenting had caused the kid to mature more slowly than most. In fact, the few times that I had spoken to my niece, she did seem to have a naive perspective on life. Maybe my sister’s caution was warranted. Anyways, some time away from work wasn’t going to hurt me, and I had figured out how to claim family leave for it. Being middle-aged and divorced, I wasn’t going to find a use for that benefit any other way.
“And no staying up late!” Sandra cried, as her husband hustled her outside. I held the screen door open and watched them cut across the grass towards the cab. “We’ll be back Saturday night,” my sister yelled over her shoulder. She hurried unsteadily over the uneven ground, impelled by her husband’s grip.
Mary-Kate slipped in beside me at the door. “Sorry about that,” she offered quietly.
At the taxi door, Sandra continued with her one-last-thoughts. “The list of emergency phone numbers,” she pleaded with her husband, who unapologetically stuffed her into the cab. “It’s all 9-1-1 now,” he said, closing the door. Then he zipped around the back of the car and jumped in the far side. Sandra stared worriedly at us through her cab window, prompting Mary-Kate to smile and wave. I followed suit.
As the taxi drove off down the street, Sandra lowered her window and stuck her head out. “There’s more meat in the downstair’s freezer,” she yelled, “And if …” Suddenly, her head disappeared back into the car. “Bye!” Mary-Kate called out, more to finalize the departure than to wish her farewell. She rubbed her arms against the chill, and we ducked back into the house.
“Isn’t she a piece of work?” Mary-Kate said, as she walked over to the couch and plopped down. She slouched back in her seat, pressed her knees together and splayed her lower legs idly out to the sides. Staring vacantly to her front, she became lost in thought.
“So is this sad for you?” I asked, sitting down beside her, “Did you know your grandmother very well?”
She continued to stare without focus and inattentively blew a few raspberries through her puckered lips.
“Mary-Kate?” I prompted her.
“Oh, sorry,” she replied, “No, I didn’t know her at all. Can I have some friends over?”
“What?” I responded, a little surprised. “No. You just heard your mother. Besides, it’s late, and you’ve got school tomorrow.”
Mary-Kate turned her lower lip into an exaggerated pout. “Oooo, you’re such a meany, Unc,” she said and then jumped off the couch. “Okay. I’ll rip her up porno be a good girl. You know where you’re sleeping?”
“Yes. I already put my bag in your parents’ room.”
“Okay,” she said and bounded out of the room, “I’m going to get ready for bed now.”
*** Wednesday: Bedtime ***
Cute kid, that Mary-Kate. But as innocent and adorable as she seemed to be, I could see that I would have to keep an eye on her this week in case she tried to test me. Yet, I don’t think that she will give me any real problems. If I know my sister, she has drilled manners and morality into the poor kid for most of her young life.
As Mary-Kate’s patent leather shoes scampered down the hall and into her room, I grabbed the remote off the coffee table and started flipping through the channels on the television.
Of course, I hadn’t expected her to be so good looking. She was very striking, in a youthful, untouched sort of way. Her soft features were offset by a prominent but not oversized nose. Her large, dark eyes looked both calmly perceptive and casually submissive, and her high cheeks always seemed on the verge of pulling her mouth into a broad smile.
I continued to flip through the channels, but nothing inspiring jumped out at me. I finally decided to watch the late news.
The innocence of Mary-Kate’s face was highlighted by her perky hair. Her shoulder-length, dirty blonde hair was thick and full, and on either side of her head, she had pulled it into ponytails, which whipped about in a flirty way. She gave off conflicting signals, both womanly and girlish, both fertile and virginal, … and I really had to stop thinking about that sort of thing before I got myself into trouble. I turned my attention back to the TV.
Mary-Kate appeared at the side of the couch and passed in front of me. My eyes bugged out. At first, all I saw was skin. She did have on a skimpy, yellow outfit, but most of her body was uncovered. She had on a cropped, cotton t-shirt that flopped loosely open just below her breasts and a pair of tiny, stretch shorts that conformed tightly to her small curves.
She reached down for the TV schedule off the coffee table and caused me to inhale sharply. As she bent over, the crop-top billowed open, and inside, her two full breasts lolled under her chest. She moved to the other end of the couch and sat on her legs, pulling down on her shirt to make sure that she was covered.
I tried to stare at her accusingly, but it probably looked more as incredulity. Mary-Kate flipped through the magazine, doing her best to ignore me. “So is there anything good on?” she said.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.
Mary-Kate avoided my stare. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, and a twinkle appeared in her eyes. “What?” she said, gazing at the TV.
“What do you call that outfit?”
“What?” she said again defensively. She flipped her head up and down between the schedule and the TV. “It’s what I always wear to bed. Is this what you’re watching?”
“It’s what you always wear to bed?” I repeated back to her sceptically. There was no way that my sister would let her prance around the house in that little nothing.
Finally, she flopped the magazine down on the couch in mock anger but was barely able to hold back a smirk. “What?!!” She tried to glare at me but couldn’t help snickering, so she stood up and moved over to my lap. “I thought you were cool, Unc. Don’t tell me you’re gonna to be a prude all week.” She fell sideways onto my chest with a thump and sulked.
By reflex, I put my arm around her waist. “Well, it’s not very appropriate, is it? Go put on what you really normally wear to bed.”
“But then I’ll never get to wear this.” She pouted and then sat upright on my lap. She pinched the bottom hem of her crop-top and stretched it down. Her nipples poked noticeably through the material. “What’s wrong with it? Don’t you think it’s cute?”
“A little too cute. Come on, be a good girl and go change.”
“Why? Because … Because it’s the right thing to do, that’s why.”
She threw her arms around my neck and leaned towards my face. “If I wear this, are you going to peek at something you’re not supposed to, Unc?”
“No, of course not.”
“If I wear this, are you going to do anything naughty to me that you’re not supposed to?”
“No! Heavens no!”
“Well, then, that’s that. There’s no reason for me to change,” she said, laying her head on my shoulder. “You want to make me happy, don’t you?”
She gave me a kiss on the cheek and jumped off my lap. Her breasts jiggled dangerously under her light covering. Extending a hand down to me, she said, “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“It’s bedtime. You have to tuck me in.”
“Tuck you in? Uh … All right, I guess.” I stood up and accepted her hand. Much to my dismay, I was getting firm and felt guilty about being aroused by my niece.
Mary-Kate led me down the hallway and rus porno into her room. It was very much a girl’s room. There were frills and posters and wicker. On one wall, there was a dresser with a large oval mirror. And everywhere, literally everywhere, there were dolls and stuffed animals. I stepped over a pair of white, cotton undies on the floor and almost tripped over a pair of small, low-rise, tennis sneakers.
Mary-Kate gathered the menagerie off her bed and transferred it to the lid of her clothes hamper in what appeared to be a nightly ritual. Her shorts stretched and pulled around the curves of her soft, shapely bottom as it wiggled and squinched with her chore. She flung down the comforter and then slipped her legs into the sheets.
As she shimmied her body into position, her top popped up over her breasts. “Hey! No peeking!” she cried, yanking her shirt back into place.
I had peeked, I’m sad to admit. Her little mounds looked untouched but ready to be touched. The image of them was now stuck in my head. “Sorry,” I offered.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
“For you to tuck me in, silly. What d’you think?”
I smirked. “Just that.” I pulled the covers up to her neck. “G’night, pumpkin,” I said and gave her a peck on the forehead.
“Unc? If you get scared in the middle of the night, you can come and sleep with me.”
I smiled and stood up.
“Ki-i-iss!!” she blurted out, “Kiss kiss kiss kiss …”
“Hey, hey,” I calmed her, sitting back down on the bed, “I just gave you one.”
“You gave me a forehead kiss. I want a proper good-night kiss.”
I snickered. “Okay.” Her little face peered up at me from under the comforter. What a little cherub! Her eyes looked trusting and submissive; her mouth looked small and vulnerable. I leaned forward and gave her a quick buss on the lips.
“Better,” she requested with a pout.
I hesitated but then gave her a light but proper kiss. My lips sunk down into hers, which felt velvety soft.
“Be-e-e-etter,” she whimpered again.
You see, now, that’s when I should have left the room. Right then. As I think back, I can identify the exact point in time. The rest of the week probably would have gone much differently if I had just left then, … but her eyes …
I leaned forward again. Her lips deflated under my advance, and then they kissed back. They opened and captured my lips, clasping them and then slipping along their length. By reflex, I kissed back and then realized what I was doing. I pulled my lips away from her embrace and sat up. I felt a glow of nervous excitement in my chest. “Th-there,” I said.
She bit coyly on her lower lip and grinned with satisfaction as if she suddenly knew a secret about me. “Better,” she whined again. Her eyes glimmered.
“Enough.” I stood up, walked to the door and turned out the light.
“Good night,” she giggled and squirmed into her covers.
“Good night, Mary-Kate.” Yikes!! This is my niece. Had I suddenly turned into a lech? What was I doing?!!
*** Wednesday: Night ***
I went back to the living room and tried to get my mind out of the gutter, but more than a few of the late shows were risqué enough to keep it there. I needed moral fortitude. I needed to be a rock. I needed to be someone who could look at her bare breasts and not be affected by them. Someone immune to the sight of her two slightly firm B-cups. Immune to the full mounds that hung low on her chest before standing proudly out as perky lobes. Immune to her puffy areoles rising as soft bumps on top of her breasts. Immune to her little raisin nipples sticking eagerly erect in the cool night air. … “Drrrringgg …” The phone shocked me back to reality.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Harvey?” my sister responded. Then she spoke to someone in the background, “I don’t care. That’s not the route I told the driver to take. You didn’t tip him, did you?!! I told you not to! Why would you do that? … Harvey?”
“Yeah, Sandra.” The sound of my sister’s voice suddenly made me feel embarrassed that I had been thinking about her naked daughter.
“We just arrived. Is everything okay there? … Bob, don’t put that bag on top. There’s something breakable in the big one. … Harvey?”
“Yeah, sis. Don’t worry; everything’s fine. Mary-Kate is in bed.”
“Harvey? … No, Bob. If you hang it up like that, it’s going to slip off the hanger and fall on the floor. Ohhhh! … Harvey, I have to go. We’ll phone you tomorrow. … Bob!!” Then she hung up.
I placed the handset back on the cradle and slumped dejectedly into the couch. I had to get a grip on my thoughts. I couldn’t risk betraying my sister’s trust. Maybe, it’s just that I’m tired. I’ll go to bed, and in the morning, I will be the very rock of moral rectitude. I turned off the TV and lights and went to my room to change.
Given the current situation, I would have been smart to have brought some sweatpants to wear at night, but as it was, I would have sert porno to make due with boxers. I looked down at the front of them dubiously. The thin cotton wouldn’t provide me much cover. Ah, no matter. After tonight, when I became scrupulously righteous, I wouldn’t need protection.
I went down the hall to wash up. Mary-Kate’s door was open a crack. I should really look in on her. … No, no. Just wash. I needed to stay focused. I will just do my business and go to bed.
I continued down the hall and did my ablutions. I half thought about jerking off in order to relieve my sexual tension, but I didn’t want to risk thinking about Mary-Kate while I was doing it and forever making some kind of sordid mental link. Instead, I settled for splashing cold water in my face.
On my way back down the hall, I saw that Mary-Kate’s door was open a crack. Oh, yeah, I had noticed that before, and I probably should have closed it then. In fact, I should really look in on her. Yes, that would be the responsible, protective, supervisory thing to do.
I pushed the door open and sneaked into the dim room. Mary-Kate was breathing lightly. She was lying on her side towards the door, and her covers were askew. It was a good thing that I had decided to check in on her after all. Now, I could cover her up and prevent her from getting a chill.
I approached the bed and then froze. Her shirt had popped up again, and one of her breasts was lying in the open, lying trustingly and innocently in the open. It obviously needed my immediate, personal attention.
Quietly and precisely, I pinched the hem of her top and dragged it up and over the little pink mass. Over the soft flesh that skimmed deliciously under my fingers. Over the plump mound that squished as I pressed into it incidentally. Over the taut nipple that rasped along my knuckles. Over the …
“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked sleepily.
A jolt went through me. “I … um … I’m just trying to cover you up,” I stammered.
“Hummm?” she mumbled, stirring and then yanking down on her top. “Are you trying to feel my tittie, Unc?”
“No! No, I … uh …”
“You know, you could have just pulled a sheet over me, Uncle Harvey,” she said accusingly, making me blush. Then her voice changed to more of a moan. “Unc, my tummy hurts.” She grabbed my hand and placed it on her stomach.
I sat down on the bed beside her. My guilt gave way to concern. “Really? Do you feel sick?”
“No. Just all tingly.”
“Tingly?” I gave her tummy a little soothing rub. “When did it start?”
“When you were kissing me good night.”
“Oh. … uh … Where … uh … Where exactly does it hurt?” I asked hesitantly.
She slid my hand over the waistband of her shorts and onto her lower abdomen, where I stopped it from going any further. “Here?”
“No. Still lower.” She pushed my hand down to her pussy. By reflex, I curled my middle finger over her lips. The stretchy material of her shorts allowed the digit to sink slightly into the cleft. Feeling moistness on my finger, I yanked my hand off instantly.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “It felt good when you touched me down there. Maybe you just need to rub it some more.”
“Noooo,” I replied, “Not a good idea.”
“Why? It felt good. Do you think something’s wrong down there?” she asked and grabbed the sides of her shorts to pull them down. “Maybe you should take a look at it.”
“Who-o-o-oa!!” I stopped her just as her waistband exposed a few wisps of fine hair, and I yanked her shorts back up. “Stop right there, sunshine. We’re not going to expose anything down there tonight.”
“Why, Unc? Are you embarrassed to look at my coochie?”
“No. Well, yes, it’s … uh … No. Look. It’s just not something that I need to be doing.”
“But you have to make me feel better.” She grabbed my wrist and moved my hand back to her belly. “You either have to look at it …” My hand went lower. “… or rub it.” My hand moved over top of her pussy again. My heart pounded in my throat, and my penis flicked up against the front of my briefs. “Are you going to rub it?” She pressed on my hand and slowly shifted it up and down. “Hmmm?”
I had trouble catching my breath. I felt moisture on my finger again. Her soft mounds compressed under my touch, and the stretchy material slipped smoothly under my rubbing. “I … I can’t do this,” I whispered, but the words were inaudible.
Mary-Kate closed her eyes and licked her lips. “Mmmm …,” she murmured, stretching out her body.
I made light little circles on top of her shorts, pushing gently into her doughy lips. She swished her legs in the sheets and squirmed her body slowly. “Mmmmmmm …”
I was arousing her. My gawd, what was I doing? I pulled my hand away.
“Hey. No. Don’t stop,” she pleaded. “That was making me feel really good.”
“I’m sorry, Mary-Kate, but I shouldn’t be touching you down there. If you just go to sleep, I’m sure that you’ll feel fine in the morning.”
“Ohhhh!” she moaned and rolled peevishly onto her side, thumping onto the mattress in a huff. “You’re no fun. I was just beginning to … Hey! Un-cle Har-vey!” she suddenly sang out, staring at my boxers. “You’ve got a stiffy!” She reached towards my crotch.
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