Niece Trouble

Another niece and uncle story. You know the drill. You know what will happen. But isn't that just what you want?

"I'm not wearing any knickers."

David Bulstrode blinked and tried to keep his face expressionless.

Susie went on, "I don't like the way they show through this dress. I haven't put a bra on either." Her hands smoothed down the sides of her very slinky little dress. "No unsightly bumps and lines. Do you think it matters, Uncle? No undies."

David's brother's daughter was staying with him. His brother and wife had recently moved to the other end of the country, but Susie had a few more weeks of school left to run before university and so had stayed on at his house. Almost a lodger for a few weeks. An end of school party that night, a disco and so on. The girls all getting dressed up. Perhaps the boys might; but take nothing like the bother Susie was taking.

"It's a hot night, Susie, your dress is long enough to go commando," a pause, "I suppose, and you are right enough about it not showing any, um, undergarments. But it is all a bit figure hugging."

"That's the idea, Uncle."

"I don't know what your mother would say."

"She's not here. So, I'm asking you."

"Perhaps just a thin pair."

"I don't have a thong."

Susie, therefore, had her way. Probable that anything David said contrary to her thoughts would have been rejected and any agreement accepted with alacrity. He had driven her to the school and promised to pick her up at midnight.

The house rather empty without her. He had been enjoying the company. The enthusiasm and vivacity of his niece. A little unnerving to find a half-naked eighteen-year-old tripping from bathroom to bedroom if he happened to cross the landing at the wrong moment wearing not the largest of bath towels. He should have, perhaps, found her a larger one to wrap around her. And now this recent event.

"You dirty old bugger," he said aloud. David walked up the stairs and sat on her bed where he had talked to her whilst she had finished make-up and hair brushing and received the revelation about there being no knickers beneath the dress. Susie had not actually put the dress on whilst he had been there; nor unwrapped the towel from her body fresh from the shower and wriggled herself into the dress. He wondered whether she had pulled it up over her hips or put it over her head and tugged it downwards over her naked young body? David preferred the latter idea. He imagined her there, right there, towel undone and dropped to the floor, reaching upwards with her arms, and opening out the dress and then it coming down over her head. Momentarily her head would be lost within the dress, unable to see him and he would have been able to stare at her breasts, her rather small breasts as he had seen rather clearly outlined in that dress, even as he had driven her to the party. He would also have been able to really look, without Susie knowing, at her sex. Her hips were womanly and shapely -- he could more and discern that, whether in jeans, shorts or indeed that figure hugging dress.

But what of the feminine mound -- the Mount of Venus -- the delightful rounding of skin over the pubic bone, bisected in part by her feminine slit. How easy would that be to see? With puberty long past, hair would have grown. Had it grown in profusion, a wonderful triangle of tight dark curls; or might it have come sparsely, a delicate filigree in short black hairs with her slit so visible through? Or might she have shaved it all away? Her old uncle would have been -- would be -- very good at that! His cologne scented shaving cream, his safety razor and then the after-shave balm, definitely not traditional 'after-shave' on such sensitive skin -- that would make her jump as he rubbed it in! 'Old Spice' indeed! No, much better modern after shave-balm and plenty of it, his fingers massaging the cream into the delicate skin. Yes, up and down that little slit.

"You dirty old bugger," he said aloud a second time and undid his fly. He was up -- of course he was erect at such thoughts. Hard inside his trousers. His thick erection slid easily out of his fly and into the air of Susie's bedroom -- not his own bedroom but Susie's. He could see himself reflected in the full-length wall mirror. The one Susie had turned and turned in front of whilst seeing how her dress had looked after she had called him into her room. And, unfortunately, after she had tugged the dress downwards -- or upwards. Either way, would no doubt have involved wriggling and tugging to get the material down. or up, over her perhaps still damp body.

David had sat there on her bed looking at her, much as he was now. Only now she was not there, and he had his cock out of his fly which he most definitely had not whilst she was there. He looked at himself, David Bulstrode, fifty-year old single accountant, starting to go grey but not yet balding, trim figure from plentiful cycling, in green polo shirt and crisp buff chinos - and with his cock out. What a sight -- and not for sore eyes. An absurd sight really. Well... yes and no. The purple head with its particularly purple flared edge -- he did rather 'oversail' - standing on his long veined and thick stalk. Purple up against the green -- the All England Club's colours! David played tennis as well. Had enjoyed playing against Susie in the park. She had dressed the part. White top, white pleated skirt and, yes, white knickers. Dancing around swinging her racket in white socks and tennis shoes she had certainly looked the classic pretty tennis player. And not a few boys and several old men had stopped to watch. David had not really thought they were watching to see who played the better, doubted they noted his existence, running around in his 'Fred Perry' shirt and white shorts. Susie played well. He had been pleased.

He had had thoughts after that match -- those sort of thoughts -- as he had lain in bed; Susie only in the next room and had imagined her playing tennis naked. Not in the park of course but perhaps at a private club or better on a tennis court at his home (not that there was anything like the space in his garden). The thought too of showering with her afterwards. Not that the park pavilion had 'family showers' -- private showers with a lockable door and plenty of room for a family to change and shower. The idea of showering, naked of course, with Susie so pleasing. The idea of playing with her naked -- at tennis -- pleasing. Even better showering afterwards. Perhaps him being in charge of the soap. Or even, after a clothed match, being unexpectedly in the men's showers at the tennis club with her. Perhaps the ladies' showers not working, and she asks to join him. Other men there. Watching them. The jealous looks as Susie and he showered and chatted about the game. Nothing sexual -- just showering, albeit old man and girl together. What might the other men imagine they got up to? What pleasure the other men might get joining them in the showers, soaping themselves as they surreptitiously watched the girl. A risk of erections of course. Always a risk with men. A compliment to the lady of course -- but would Susie see it that way?

David sat looking at himself in the mirror. Always a risk of an erection, and there his was -- in Susie's room. He hoped she was having a good time at the party. What would his younger brother think? The truth was David had lusted after his sister-in-law and now it was the turn of the niece as well. Well, he was unmarried. Men had needs. David began to stroke himself. In the mirror he watched his fingers rolling his skin up over his knob and back down again. It was quite a good cock. Thoughts of Susie rolling her dress down; thoughts of him in the showers with her, men have erections, his purple plum nosing into her bottom crack; thoughts of there being no knickers under her dress, might a boy slip his hand up her thigh and touch that very evening; thoughts of Susie sucking his cock.

"What do you do for sex, Uncle David?" It was not a question she had asked -- of course not! Probably she thought at his age, sex did not come into his head. But of course, it did -- a lot. The idea of being honest should she ask. How it was mostly his hand and him.

"Mostly, Uncle David?"

Well, there had been that holiday fling a few years back. He had had hopes of it being more than a holiday fling but then she had revealed she had a husband and kids back home. It had been meant to be a week's holiday for her with a friend, only the woman had cried off leaving Kirsty on her own in that Maltese hotel for a week. Whether the girls had planned on having a week of uninhibited sex he did not know, but Kirsty and he had had that! Had met in the hotel bar that first evening. An accidental meeting of two strangers and it had just happened. They had dined together, gone for a walk in the warm still air of the evening along the beach and ended up in bed together. It was only on the very last day when he had asked if they could meet again back home, so expecting not just an affirmative answer but a date and place, that she had been honest with him. She would be back riding her husband's prick the very next day, as she had his. Would be sucking that penis not his. It had been great sex and they had seemed to get on like a house on fire. Yeah, more than smouldering sex.

Would have been nice to have seen Kirsty once a week for just sex. How difficult would that have been to arrange - for her? But she had recognised the emotional involvement. David could see that now. She had sensibly broken it off because of that. Possibly, even probably, had it not been for that, things might have been different. Had it just been the sex, he might indeed have been having that weekly liaison, that weekly slipping into her wet warmth. She had not been ready or willing to have 'an affair.' A pity in so many ways, and, looking back and no longer emotional about Kirstie, he rather liked the idea of sharing a woman especially without the other man knowing. He could have gone with that, actually, even then.

Kirsty's husband being completely unaware another man's semen might have been left in her vagina as he fucked her, or that sloshing around in her stomach might be David Bulstrode's semen as he lay atop her. Or even, as he fucked her, in the adjacent passage lay another man's cum. Yes, they had done that. He had buggered her because she had asked him to; Kirsty had come as he did the deed -- she had liked it. She had liked it a lot, which had so surprised him. Kirsty's husband had flatly refused to even try anal intercourse. Kirsty had wanted to be fucked in her bum -- and what a lovely bottom! David couldn't say it was really his thing but had obliged, how could he not with the way she had presented it to him on the bed and had been a little surprised when she'd put a finger up his backside.

Might they still be fucking every week.? Albeit quite often in her bum! A so useful weekly release. Surely the husband would have come to realise. Might have come to accept another man 'helping him out.' David had wondered about three in a bed sex. Him in Kirstie's bottom, her husband adjacent, right next door, double penetration, both making sure Kirstie had her orgasm -- or two. Now what would that have felt like?

But, yes, apart from that holiday fling it was his hand and his thoughts. There he now was in Susie's room, sitting looking at himself in the mirror, his cock in his hand. He liked to think of it as a fine cock, a fine manly specimen. Certainly, the purple edge to the flared knob -- the very swollen knob -- looked pleasing against the green of his polo shirt. As he wanked a small run of clear fluid appeared and ran downward, a rivulet out of his hole and down the curves of his glans penis -- to spill over the flare. An indication of not inconsiderable sexual arousal. All ready to be licked off the smooth surface -- sweet pre-cum, a delight surely for teenage girls, as it had been for Kirsty.

Erect and wanking in Susie's room. She would have no idea. Standing he undid his chinos and pulled off his shirt. Now stark naked and strongly erect right there in his niece's room, looking around at her things, his cock very much there with him. He had been sitting on her bed, now he turned, and his cock loomed over the bed. Did she masturbate in there? Had she done that whilst staying with him? Had her fingers roamed over her body and pushed between her legs? Had her sex run with moisture as his cock was doing? Had she perhaps taken bunched fingers all wet from her and sucked them in her mouth? He liked that idea.

David turned back to the mirror, watching himself wank. Susie had looked so sexy in that dress. No knickers on underneath - indeed. But she had been with him with just her nightie on in the kitchen and probably with no knickers on then. People were, after all, always naked beneath their clothes. Yet, that figure hugging green dress, slinky and superb. He had almost been able to discern her nipples. How would the boys react to that? Her small breasts so nicely moulded -- and her bottom very much moulded by the dress. How close might some get dancing with her? Would any lucky boy take her for a break, out of the hot disco and into the darkness? Would he feel her? His hand holding a breast and feeling the nipple in his palm as they kissed; might he clasp her bottom cheek or even venture a hand up her thigh to discover that lack of knickers? What might she feel? Might she unzip him and extract? He hoped she would not get anything on her dress. Penises leaked even before they came. In the mirror his own leaky penis pointing back at him. He would have to watch out, it was his carpet after all! With his free hand he caught a drip.

Sensible if she gave the boy a blow job. That avoided all that risk of mess whether from hand job or full sexual intercourse. A sensible thing for girls to do. How he had imagined his sister-in-law seeing it as a 'sensible thing to do' to relieve her brother in law's need. 'Might I help you with that. Mark asked me to.' But unlikely his younger brother would have been so generous, or she been so kind. And now he was imagining her daughter cock sucking. A lovely thought indeed, Susie's pretty lips stretched around a hard, throbbing penis and the boy's balls lifting preparatory to release. Or even, of course, his own in Susie's mouth.

Suddenly David did have to look for the protection of his carpet. He was not prepared -- had not set out tissues atop the chest of drawers or on a chair or even the bed; had not pulled his handkerchief out and wrapped it condom like around his cock; had not even rummaged for a pair of Susie's knickers to use for that so obvious purpose. A cupped hand the best he could do. Nothing he could do else, no way to stop the ejaculation. David Bulstrode came pretty profusely, stark naked, in his niece's bedroom, his cum pouring out into his cupped hand as he wanked his jerking penis. He stared at his reflection imagining the semen cumming out was going into Susie's mouth.

A rather ungainly walk to the bathroom, one hand cupped in front of him and him trying not to spill anything, the other clasped around his cock to prevent any last drips falling onto bedroom and landing carpets. A rather ungainly walk. A shower with his semen, as happened not infrequently, disappearing down the plughole but, unusually, being washed from his hands rather than coming straight out of his cock into the hot, falling water.

Naked, freshly dried, David went to retrieve his clothes and check for drips upon the carpet. Time to make supper and then a long evening before he had to go and collect Susie.

Susie was so excited when David picked her up. She bounced into the passenger seat and sat there, eyes sparkling. 'A good evening?' he had asked and off she had gone, telling him all about it. Not perhaps a Jane Austen character describing in remarkable detail the events of a country ball, but it had something of that. Her dress still looked fine. A quick glance whilst the light was on had not revealed any 'stains.' It was still, of course, very figure hugging.

The girl was still worked up when they got home, and she tumbled through the door. She did not appear to have been drinking a lot but whether she was dehydrated from alcohol or just perhaps dehydrated from dancing and excitement, David still brought her a glass of water. David sat in his armchair, and she sat on the arm, her thigh so moulded by the blue dress and when he turned to look up at her, her nipple was now so clearly outlined, pushing against the blue slinky material of her dress. It was all clearly damp from her perspiration. It clung all the more because of it.

"And everyone liked my dress. You should have seen Tess' -- ha. She's a big girl and her dress didn't half take advantage. Talk about cleavage."

"Was she the girl in the yellow dress with light blue bands I saw when I arrived. She was, um, generously endowed."

"No, that's Rachel Martin. She actually fell out at one point. That was funny. Don't think the boys saw. Their loss. We found it so funny!"

David had not missed Rachel's cleavage. Not a bit, especially in the headlights when she been bending forward to get her, and her rather voluminous dress, into, presumably, her dad's car. He had indeed almost seen her nipples and certainly a very deep cleavage as her breasts had momentarily hung in the glare of his lights. Plenty of room for a whole cock for a first rate 'tit-fuck.'

Susie had described the other girls; had talked about the dancing and what the boys had got up to.

"No trouble from them?"

"What? The boys? Oh, Uncle, you're not my mother!" She had put her hands on his shoulders and looked straight at him. "Now Uncle, what sort of trouble were you thinking of?"

David was embarrassed. "You know, touching you -- inappropriately."

"What -- like this?" Her right hand went over her left breast, clasping it through the material. She got up and slapped her right buttock, it wobbled. "Or like that?"

"Well, yes, sort of like that." The post dance review did not seem to be going well. Susie seemed annoyed but he felt sort of responsible for her away from her parents.

"Or, Uncle, did you mean that?" It was dramatic; it was unexpected and jaw dropping; just not what David had in any way anticipated, though perhaps he might have thought about something rather similar earlier. The girl flopped down in the armchair opposite him and as she did so just hiked up her figure-hugging green dress, up and over her hips and sat there with her legs wide apart showing, well, everything.

He could see cum. He could see semen right between the folds of her sex, white cum leaking from her body. Just like the cum he had carried in his hand that very evening.

It was the filagree of dark curls. The question he had posed earlier that evening about her pubic hair was right there in front of him. Dark curls over her pubic mound but short and anything but a dense covering; similar hair running along her outer lips, but her inner, rather puffy lips, just pink and hairless -- of course. Pink, swollen, rather damp looking and all a bit -- spermy...

"Yes, he certainly touched me - inappropriately -- and with his cock, Uncle. He pushed the round head into me and fucked me against a wall. He did it well, Uncle, almost made me come. But not quite. I didn't suck it, though, if that's what is worrying you..."

David shook his head, he was speechless. That was not what had been worrying him. Little Susie had been fucked -- well-fucked -- he could see that.

"Are you on the Pill, Susie?"

"Yes, Mummy! Of course I am. I'm not going to have a baby. Don't you worry, Uncle."

"That's good. I mean a relief. I mean... how well do you know this... young lad?"

"Intimately, Uncle, can't you see?"