Story Details

Sitting My Niece Ch. 01

centrum on Incest Stories

"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 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?"

"Within limits."

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 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 what?"

"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 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.

I intercepted her grasp but not before her fingers twanged off my projection. "Oap! Hey! Don't!"

"Why not?" She sat up and prepared for another assault. "Maybe you need me to rub you. Are you tingly down there too?" She pounced. Both her hands thrust forward. I grabbed them in mid-flight, but her arms took turns breaking my grip and lunging. We grappled hand-over-hand in a frenzy. Her fingers hooked onto my waistband and snapped it a few times. She squealed, and we both gasped from exertion.

Finally, I wrestled her back and fell on top of her body. I threw her arms over her head. I had her chest pinned under my chest and her elbows held down with my hands. Her eyes were wide with excitement, and I had to admit that, lying on top of her, I was all fired up myself.

We both panted, as we calmed down. Staring into each other's eyes, we both seemed surprised by the outburst. "Uncle Harvey?" she finally broke into our reverie.


"Why is your wiener hard?"

"Never mind."

"Tell-l-l-l me. Are you excited about something?"

"Never mind. It's time for you to go to sleep now."

"No! Tell me," she insisted. "Is it sore? Should I look at it?" She flinched her arms to break my grip.

"Mary-Kate! Enough!"

"O-o-okay," she moped. "If you give me another good-night kiss, I'll be a good girl."

I sighed. "Promise?"

"Yes, Uncle Harvey," she replied in a sing-song way, "I promise."

I released my grip, hesitantly at first, but when she stayed put, I repositioned myself over her face and lowered my lips slowly towards her mouth. Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me in. My lips mushed onto her mouth.

I struggled to get up. She took up the tension around my neck with one arm, freeing the other one to wriggle under my body. I squirmed to avoid its descent but it snaked unerringly towards my groin.

I bellowed into her mouth, "Moh! Moh! Mop!" and tried to get up, but her grip on my neck was surprisingly strong. I shifted my hips, but her hand found its mark, wrapping around my shaft through my shorts. She squeezed. Yikes! That was it! I bounded off the bed.

Mary-Kate's grip snagged my boxers down to my knees as I jumped up, causing my hard-on to lurch into the open and wobble in plain view. I doubled over and hiked my shorts back up instantly. I was mortified.

I looked down at my niece. Her eyes and mouth were stretched wide open, as if she were about to break into laughter but was frozen in the moment. Her eyes looked both shocked and gleeful.

I opened and closed my mouth to scold her, but no words came out. My throat clenched shut. I finally just turned and left the room. How would I be able to recover my authority after that? I jumped into bed and lay on my back. This was going to be a long week.

Eventually, there was a light tapping at my door. "Uncle Harvey?" Mary-Kate said softly.

I drew the covers around me into a mummy wrap to protect myself. She was not to be trusted. She was a seductress, a succubus, a harpy. "What?" I said gruffly.

She entered and sat beside me on the bed. Her face looked soft and affectionate. "I just wanted to apologize," she said, caressing my cheek with her hand. "I didn't mean to get carried away like that. Are you okay?"

"Yes," I replied, somewhat more mellow.

She leaned down and gave me a sweet kiss on the mouth. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "The last thing in the world I want to do is embarrass you." Then she stood up and walked back to the door. "Make sure you get me up for school. I'm not a morning person," she said and then sweetly called out, "Good night, Uncle Harvey."

I melted. She was a good kid after all. She was a sprite, a cherub, an angel. "Good night," I replied warmly.

"And good night, Uncle Harvey's wiener." She giggled and left.


*** Thursday: Morning ***

The next morning, I showered and made a big breakfast – scrambled eggs, toast, juice, milk. Then I went to wake the little urchin up, which was no treat. She wasn't kidding about not being a morning person. However, after she learned that she couldn't snarl enough for me to go away or tunnel into her sheets enough to avoid me, she eventually gave in. I finally heard enough alertness in her voice to trust that she would get up, and when I returned to the kitchen, the sound of the shower running reassured me that she was in motion.

I resolved to elevate my morals that morning. For the rest of the week, there would be no more inappropriate contact, no more arousal, no more close calls. Content that everything was back on track, I smiled and tucked into my breakfast.

The shower shut off, and despite my expectation that she would go get dressed, in no time Mary-Kate appeared in the kitchen. Hearing the light slapping of her little feet on the linoleum, I looked up and was shocked to see her merely wrapped in a towel – and it wasn't a very large towel. It barely hooked over itself on her front and scarcely stretched from the edge of her breasts to just under her ass cheeks. There was a shocking amount of cleavage showing, and when she walked, her bosom bounced and the towel's slit flapped – all very precariously.

She smick-smacked her bare feet over to the counter to get a glass of juice and then smick-smacked back to the table. At my chair, she plopped into my lap and placed an arm around my neck. She smelled of humidity and soap and flowers and baby-powder, and my lap became warm and moist from contact with her towel-covered bottom. She picked a slice of crisp bacon off my plate.

"What can I get you?" I asked calmly but felt distinctly uncomfortable with her proximity and near-nakedness.

"I don't eat breakfast," she replied and began to tease the end of the bacon strip around the outside of my mouth.

"But you should eat something. ... Don't! ... You need brain food for school. ... Don't!"

She popped the bacon into my mouth and almost made me gag. "Yeah, but I'm not going to school today." She picked up a forkful of eggs and brought them to my mouth.

"What? ... Stop it! I don't want any eggs right now. ... What makes you think that you're not going to ..." She crammed the fork into my mouth, causing half the eggs to go inside and half to dribble over my chin and onto her bosom.

She giggled, picking the egg bits off her breasts with her fingers and popping them into my mouth. "Because I'm staying home with you, Unc."


She ignored me and continued preening her front. Suddenly, the towel lost tension and slipped. "Oops!" she exclaimed and pressed her chest into me to keep her wrap from falling. Her head was beside mine, and in my ear she purred, "Oh, Unc. You know you want me to stay home with you, so don't pretend." She got a grip on her towel again and sat up. She left it in place, but it looked pretty unstable.

"Listen. I'm not going to argue about this. You're going to school, and that's final!"

She picked up her glass of juice and took a sip. "Uh huh," she said as if she were indulging me. Then she lifted the glass to my lips. "But I'm not going to make it to school now."

Before I could stop her, she tilted the glass. I coughed and sputtered, and juice drooled out of my mouth and onto my chin. "What do you mean?"

"Oooh, I made a mess," she cooed and began licking the spill off my face. A tingle went through my body. I should have stopped her, but I let it happen. The licking turned into sucking and then approached my mouth. After she gave me a wet, passionate kiss, I got scared and righted her. My heart was pounding. Her towel slipped, and she barely caught it.

"What do you mean that you can't make it to school now?" I asked in a slight panic.

"Well, I don't see how," she said, opening her towel as if to fix it but holding it apart longer than needed. Her breasts still glistened with beads of shower water. She refastened her towel and grinned, knowing that she had made me uncomfortable.


"Because my bus is going to be here in seven minutes."

A chill went down my spine. I snapped my head towards the clock. How could I have gotten that wrong? My sister will kill me. I was sure she had told me her pick-up was not for another hour.

I leapt from my seat, and Mary-Kate screamed as she launched off my lap. I grabbed onto her wrist, and together we hustled out of the kitchen and flew to her room. She tripped along behind me, laughing all the way. At her door, I flung her inside. "Get dressed. Hurry! I'll go out to the street and hold the bus."

She was laughing so hard that she had trouble catching her breath. "Unc. Unc. Wait a minute! Wait!" she pleaded.

Miffed, I turned sharply towards her. "What!!" I barked and suddenly noticed that her towel had unravelled. As she clutched it to her chest, it draped loosely on her front and barely screened her breasts and crotch.

With effort, she contained her laughter and then became pouty and solemn. "But I don't know what to wear," she whinged.


"My mother always lays out my clothes for me in the morning," she said.

"What?!! No she doesn't! What? Here!! HERE!" I reached blindly into a drawer and threw some underwear at her. There was no time to argue. "Get dressed! Get dressed! I'm going for the bus."

She broke out laughing and fell backwards on the bed. The towel snaked carelessly over top of her naked body. I didn't know what to do. Was she going to get dressed? I had to grab that bus. I stared at her and then bolted.

"Uncle! Uncle!" she called out to me, choking with laughter, "Come back."

I ran back into the room. "Wha-a-a-at?"

"Kidding. I'm kidding." She continued laughing and sat up. "The bus is coming when my mom said it would."

"What? It will? There's time?"

"Oh, Unc," she sighed, "You didn't think Mom would get a timing wrong, did you?"

I collapsed against the wall in relief. "No. I guess not." I was saved.

"So-o-o," she cooed, "What am I going to wear?"

"Yeah, right," I laughed. Good joke. Then I noticed that her expression wasn't changing. "I'm sorry?"

"Are you going to pick out my clothes, or am I staying home from school?"

"Mary-Kate, quit screwing around. I'm not going to pick out your clothes."

"Good," she exclaimed, reclining back on the bed with a sigh and adjusting the towel meticulously around her. "I knew you wanted me to stay home with you."

Time was becoming an issue again. We couldn't start playing games now. I looked over at the underwear that I had thrown at her. They were all bras, so I grabbed a white one off the bed and shoved it at her. "Here," I said and returned to her drawers to find her some panties.

"Is this what you want me to wear?" she asked.

"I don't know," I responded, "Wear what you want." I glanced over my shoulder at her and swallowed. She had let the towel drop to the floor and was standing in the middle of the room wearing only the bra. Her wispy pubic hair presented itself to me shamelessly. And the bra – the bra I had chosen – was made of some kind of stretchy, translucent material. Except for a white tint, I could see her breasts through the material almost as well as if they were bare. In fact, the pressing of the sheer fabric against her skin made her aureoles seem darker and more pronounced than if they were in the open. My jaw dropped, and my erection began to return.

Mary-Kate giggled at the effect she was having on me. "Got my panties yet?" she said, interrupting my gawking.

"You're not wearing that," I insisted.

"You picked it out," she replied. "Do you want to see the panties that go with this bra? When I wear them, you can see everything."

"Take that off!"

"Okay," she chirped and reached behind her back to unhook the bra.

"No no no no no no, don't take it off yet. Here." I spun around quickly and rifled through her underwear for a safe replacement. Her drawer was a mass of flimsy cotton and silk. How could she find anything in there? Suddenly, she pressed up behind me and looked over my shoulder. I could feel her breasts mushing into my back and her groin cuddling into one of my ass cheeks.

"Can I wear a thong?" she asked eagerly beside my ear.


"O-o-oh!" she moaned. I felt her hand caress my other ass cheek for a second and then go back to my shoulder. My hard-on pushed out noticeably in the front of my shorts, so I leaned against the front of the drawer to hide it. The pressure felt a little too good.

"O-o-okay," she said, pointing at a set of more conservative, buff ones, "Grab that bra and those panties."

She skipped back to the middle of the room, held up her arms and closed her eyes. "Okay. I'm ready," she announced.

I turned and, seeing that she was naked, I averted my eyes and extended the underwear to her blindly. "Here."

"Unh unh. You have to put them on me."

"Mary-Kate!" I scolded, turning back to look at her. I was arrested by the sight of her nude pose. What an angel! With her eyes closed and her arms aloft, she looked like a barely nubile gymnast setting her stance before launching into a tumbling line. I scanned up and down her soft, shapely, young body, appreciating every detail.

"A-hrrrumm," she coughed from her pose.

"Enough!" I said, tossing the underwear onto her bed. "You're going to be late for the bus." Then I stormed out of the room, trembling. Behind me, I heard her call out plaintively, "But Un-cle Har-vey, I can't put these on without your help." I was definitely crossing some kind of line here. I needed to get a grip.

I went to the living room and read through my sister's list to make sure I wasn't supposed to make her a lunch or do anything else by way of preparation. Images of my niece's naked body flashed persistently in my head, and I had the firmest hard-on I've had in years. I went to the front window to watch for the bus.

I couldn't understand how a kid that sweet and innocent could be so evil and manipulative. Maybe that was too harsh, but she wasn't as innocent as I had originally believed. 'I can't put these on without your help.' Really! What a kid! ... Wait a minute. She wasn't saying that she would go to school without wearing underwear, was she? On no! My sister would go nuts if that little anecdote ever came up in conversation.

Mary-Kate skipped into the living room, and as if on cue, the bus appeared down the street. Apparently, she had suddenly found the ability to get herself ready on her own. I scanned her body to detect evidence that she was wearing underwear.

She had combed her hair to the rear and wore a hairband on top of her head in a 1950s sock-hop style. Her make-up was fresh and subtle, and she seemed to have a healthy glow about her. She had on her school uniform again, but this time, it appeared more conservative – the shirt was blousier and the skirt was longer.

"Okay, Unc," she skipped up to me and planted a smack on my cheek that left a little lipstick stain, "Are you going to be able to survive without me, cause you can probably pull me out of school."

I moved with her to the door. "I think I'll be okay," I reassured her and focused my radar vision on her top, trying desperately to detect bra straps through the white material, without success. Was she not wearing one or did the buff colouring camouflage it.

At the door, I stared at her front. If I didn't see anything under her blouse, I decided that I would give her a hug before she left and feel her back for a bra strap.

"Uncle Harvey!" she exclaimed, catching my leer. "What are you looking at?"

Rats! I blushed. The bus pulled up in front of the house. "Sorry. I ... uh ..."

Suddenly, she grabbed the back of my neck with her hand and leaned her mouth to my ear. "Unc, my coochie is all tingly right now," she whispered, "I'm going to think about you all day and touch myself." I was so shocked that I forgot to hug her. Then she gave me a huge kiss on the mouth, rolling her head from side to side for the benefit of the bus people, smacking loudly as she pulled away at the end. "See you tonight, sexy," she chirped and then darted out the door.

I froze in place, trying to comprehend what I had just heard, and then I spun my head towards her fleeing figure. As she ran towards the bus, her skirt flipped up and down, and I thought for a second that I saw a bare cheek, but since the panties were buff, I couldn't be sure.

*** Thursday: After School ***

I stood by the window, waiting for the bus to arrive. Despite trying to relax all day, I was a wreck. I had thought about her naked body, I had thought about her teasing caresses, I had thought about her going without underwear – potentially, and I was obsessed. I conceded my growing depravity and despaired.

The week had just started, and I had lost control. I decided that, when she got home, I would have a talk with her. I was convinced that she would respond well if I addressed her in an open, mature and forthright manner. I was resolved.

The bus stopped, and Mary-Kate bounded off. She clasped her books to her chest and raced across the lawn towards the house. Her hair bounced behind her, and her grin stretched from ear to ear. A tingle of excitement sparked in my chest, and I lost my resolve.

Mary-Kate entered and threw her books on the hall table. Standing in the doorway, she interlaced her fingers in front of her lap, shifted eagerly up and down on her toes and looked at me coyly. "I knew you'd be waiting at the window for me," she said excitedly. Then she careened across the room and flung herself at my chest. We both toppled onto the floor, and she ended up straddling my stomach. Cupping her hands over her mouth, she tried to constrain her laughter over the unintended take-down.

"Mary-Kate, would you please let me up?" I said calmly, trying to recover the situation. "We need to have a talk."

"I am so, so sorry, Unc. I didn't me to tackle you."

"That's okay. I wasn't prepared for your ... uh ... exuberance. Could we just ..."

"Unc?" she interrupted me, placing her elbows on my chest and resting her chin in her hands, "I need to ask you something first."

"Yes, what is it?"

"Did you miss me?"

I smiled. "Well, sure I ..." Without warning, she dropped her mouth onto mine. Her lips were soft and wet. They slipped over the surface of my lips. I grabbed her arms to force her up but then yielded to her kissing. When she felt me surrender, she ended the kiss with a smack, took a breath and went in for more.

Eventually, she sat up. "So what did you do all day? Did you think about me? Did you daydream about me? Did you ... touch yourself?"

"What?!! This is just what we need to talk about. Let me up."

"I thought about you and touched myself," she said and then leaned down to my ear. "I thought about your wiener," she whispered and then sat back up giggling.

"Mary-Kate! Enough! Let me up."

"Why? Am I hurting you?" She bounced on my stomach.

"Oafff! Only when you do that."

"Okay then, talk."

"No! Let me up."

"Well, if we're not going to talk, then I'm going to kiss you." She leaned towards my face.

"Okay, okay," I said and collected my thoughts. "We ... uh ... we have to be careful with what's going on here."

"Why?" she asked, "What's going on here?" She hovered back over my face. Her eyes twinkled.

"Well ... you're just ... um ... I mean, I have to ... uh ... Oh, for heavensake. ... Okay. Let's start with this. I would like to know if you put any underwear on today?" As soon as I had said it, I realized that it was a poor place to start.

She rose and gasped. "Un-cle Har-vey!" she exclaimed. "What do you think?"

Oh gawd. Now what? "I ... uh ... well, yes, I ... uh ... think you probably did, but ..."

"Okay then. What else do you want to talk about?"

"Ummm ... Well, you didn't really answer my question just then. I just want you to tell me 'yes' or 'no' if you wore underwear today."

She cocked her arms onto her hips. "Well, if I tell you, you won't believe me."

"Yes I will."

"Okay, then 'yes'."


"See!" She rolled her eyes. "I knew you wouldn't believe me."

She pinched the hem of her skirt. "I guess I'll just have to show you." She lifted her skirt a bit and crawled forward on my chest until her skirt formed a canopy over my head. Inside, it was too dark to see any details, but her warm, pungent scent wafted over my face and drifted up my nose. I breathed in deeply and felt a warm glow in my groin.

"So. Am I?"

"I can't see. Just let me up and forget I even asked. We shouldn't be doing this."

"No no no no no. You doubt me, and I'll never hear the end of it." She crept forward again. Her pussy neared my face.

"Mary-Kate! Don't! You ..." Softly, she nestled her bare pussy onto my mouth. It was soaked with her juices and felt like a sponge squishing onto me. Her soft, moist folds spread over my lips and drenched them.

"Oooohhh!" she exclaimed as she contacted my lips.

She tasted tangy and excited. She pushed her hips forward, and her lips slid over my nose. "Ohhhhh!!" she moaned. She lifted back and rubbed along my lips and nose again, and then she rubbed again and then again. "OHHHH!" she moaned.

The sensations thrilled me but scared me at the same time, so I jerked out from under her and rolled onto my side. She stared back at me wildly and panted.

I didn't know what to say. I was frightened that I had enjoyed it so much ... and wanted more. My erection pressed firmly in my pants. Her moisture glistened on my nose, mouth and chin.

Suddenly, Mary-Kate lunged at me and gave me a huge, open-mouth kiss. Her tongue slithered over my lips and chin, lapping up her juices, and then she bolted from the room. I remained on the floor, stunned.

*** Thursday: Evening ***

I felt guilty about what had happened. Things had spun out of control quickly, and I had let them. I should have been firmer and more insistent.

The sweet tang of Mary-Kate's essence hung on face, and so I went to the bathroom and washed it off, reluctantly. Well, if I had wanted to speak with her before, I absolutely needed to do so now. I loitered in the hall outside her closed door and ran through some alternative approaches in my mind. I wanted to correct the situation, but I didn't want to scar her emotionally or give her a guilt trip.

Suddenly, she opened her door and hustled out, only to pull up at the last moment to keep from running into me. "A-a-a-ah!" she screamed and then slapped my chest. "You scared me!! What are you doing out here?" she admonished me. "Uncle Harvey, were you peeking at me while I was changing?"

"No! I was just worried that you were feeling ... um ... strange or something."

"Ahhh. You were worried about me," she said. "I was just trying to find something 'proper' to wear tonight. What d'you think?" She had on something a lot more conservative than the previous night. It was a grey, fleece sleepshirt with three-quarter length sleeves and a zipper front. It had small side slits, but otherwise, it covered down to her mid-thigh. She had taken her hairband out and replaced it with a scrunchy. She lifted her arms and twirled around. The hem of her shirt lifted up, but she remained covered. "Is this virtuous and reserved enough for you?"

"Yes. Yes, it's fine."

"Oh, you're such a prude," she sighed and grabbed my hand. "Come on, let's go."

We hustled down the hall and into the living room. "Mary-Kate," I said, sitting down on the couch, "We do need to talk. Why don't you sit down for a minute."

She stood in front of the couch, still holding my hand. "Do we have to do that right now? I kind of wanted to get started on my homework."

I was glad to hear her say that. My commitment to having the discussion was waning. "Sure," I said, "Who am I to keep you from your homework?"

She swung my arm playfully to and fro. "Uncle Harvey? Can I do it in here with you?"

"Won't the TV be too distracting? Why don't you do it in your room? Just get it done, and then come out and we'll watch a movie."

"But I have a phone in my room," she said cutely.

"So don't use the phone."

She broke into laughter. "Oh, Unc," she snorted and walked over to her books, "You're such a character." When she returned, I noticed that she had sneaked her zipper down to about the mid-point of her chest. She sat down at the other end of the couch and curled her legs under her. Opening her notebook, she sighed.

I thought for a second that I should say something about the zipper, but instead, I turned my attention to the TV. I flipped around the channels and settled on a nature show. I tried to get into it, but I kept glancing over at my niece. What a sweet little beauty she was. Her eyes twinkled with vitality, and her grin seemed to betray an unspoken joke.

She clattered the pen on her teeth and then started playing the end of it around her mouth. She pressed her lips on it, teased it with her tongue and then sucked it smoothly in and out of her mouth. I became aroused. Gawd! I had become such a freak!

She sighed and stood up. Walking over to the end of the coffee table nearest me, she hunkered down at my feet. Continuing to make notations in her book, she bent forward and swayed her body in thought. Her cleavage showed as a deep cleft, and her breasts undulated in her shirt. I tried not to look, but I kept gazing down.

She sighed again, got up and walked behind the couch. She balanced her notebook on the top of the back cushion and let a corner of the book rub against my neck. I glanced over my shoulder. "Do you want me to turn the TV off so you can concentrate?" I asked.

"No. I'm just restless. I can't believe you're making me do this." What?!! How did I suddenly become the task master? She drummed the pen on her book and then sucked on its tip. Suddenly, I felt a wet plastic end in my ear.

"Hey!" I cried, swatting it away. Some of her spit remained in my earhole.

"Uncle!" she reproved me, "I'm trying to work here! Don't jostle the couch."

I returned my attention to the TV when another wet probe invaded my ear. "Hey! Mary-Kate, you're not working!"

"Well, this is boring," she complained. "I need some incentive."

I thought for a moment. "All right. If you do your work, then you can watch a movie with me."

"I'm already doing that."

"Okay. If you do your work, then you can have a bowl of ice cream."

She laughed. "Oh, Unc," she giggled, "You're so adorable! I'm not nine years old."

"Then you name something."

"Okay," she mused, "If I do my homework, then you have to do something with me. Just say 'yes'."

"What is it that I'm going to do with you?"

"I'll tell you when I'm done."

"Oh no no no. Let's hear it up front."

"Okay then," she said, "Um ... I've got ten homework questions to do. You have to give me a kiss for each one that I get right."

I shuddered at the thought; that was crossing the line. "No. How about instead if ..."

"Unh unh," she halted me, "It's that or I go to my room and spend the night talking to my friends on the phone."

Well, maybe I could keep it safe and respectable – ten little pecks on the cheek, say. "Okay, but I'm going to check your answers closely."

"Mmmm," she murmured and gave me a big smack on the cheek, "You can check me as closely as you want." She giggled and zipped over to the easy chair to get busy. She propped her feet up on the seat cushion and used her lap as a desk.

I was happy that she was now motivated, and I glanced at her with satisfaction. Then I noticed to my shock that the hem of her shirt had shifted up and that she didn't seem to be wearing any panties. I spun my head away and swallowed. Don't look again. Don't look again.

Mary-Kate wrote furiously in her book, and I riveted my eyes on the TV, but it was like not staring at an eclipse. I knew that I shouldn't do it, but I let my head drift her way. Inside the dim recesses of her shirt, I could just make out the outline of a furry shadow nestled in the crevice of her pink thighs. It seemed so unprotected.

"Uncle Harvey!" she yelled and pulled her shirt down in front of her. "Were you staring at my coochie?"

"No!" I jolted my head up to face her. She looked both surprised and playful. "I ... uh ... I was going to ... uh ... ask you if you wanted something to drink."

"I'm quite all right, Unc," she huffed, shifting her legs under her. "Don't make me spank you." She dived back into her work. I blushed and felt horrible.

Eventually, she stood up and presented the notebook to me in triumph. "There," she said, "All done." She sat down on my lap and snuggled up to my chest.

I looked down at her work. The title of her exercise page read, "Dystopian Novels of the 20th Century." Then under it, "Question 1: At the beginning of Brave New World, the Director states that 'Bokanovsky’s Process is one of the major instruments of social stability'. How does this quote relate to the theme of the book?" I paused. What the heck did any of that mean? I probably should have asked her what her homework was before I agreed to check it over.

I continued reading. As an answer, she wrote, "The Director's statement underlines the basic tenet of the totalitarian regime. Bokanovsky's genetic engineering process robbed people of their individuality and therefore made society easier to manage." I paused again. "Um ... Mary-Kate? How do I know if these answers are correct?"

She giggled. "Silly! You've read these books in school. You know what the answers are. So, did I get the first one right? Am I right? Am I right?"

"Um." I cleared my throat. In school, I may have read the Sparks Notes for Brave New World, maybe. "Well ... um ... I think you ... uh ... got most of the first one ... correct."

"Ya-a-a-ay!" she cheered. "Kiss!" She pushed her body over top of the book and gave me a substantial kiss on the mouth. "Okay, next one."

"Question 2," I read, "In Farenheit 451, Beatty tells Montag that fire's 'real beauty is that it destroys responsibility and consequences'. Explain how fire is used as a symbol in the novel." I didn't bother reading her answer. "Well in number two," I said, "Um ... Yes, I think you pretty much covered the bases on that one too."

"Yippee!" she cheered again and leaned in. We slid down a bit in our seat. She kissed my mouth, but this time, she lingered and wrestled with my lips a bit. "What about the next one?"

I had to hold the book off to the side because she was now lying on my front. I glanced at the next question but didn't read it. "Yeah," I said, "Yeah, I like what you did with that one."

"Mmmm," she purred, "Got another one." She pressed down on me, and we slid down some more. She kissed me for a long time and slid her tongue slightly between my lips. When she finished, she gave me a final smooch.

"Hey," I whispered, "No double kisses."

"No?" she whispered back, "Then I'll take that one back." She smooched me again. "How about the next one?" she cooed.

I glanced over at the page and then back to her. My chest was glowing, and my penis was hard. I could feel my pulse in my neck. "That one's good too."

"Good," she said and pressed down on me again so that we were almost prostrate on the couch, "And you didn't even have to turn the page to read it." She climbed fully on top of me and attacked my mouth. Our lips gripped and pressed and tussled. I enjoyed it far too much.

I let her notebook slip from my hand onto the floor and tried to rotate on top so that I could get up, but to be honest, I wasn't fighting very hard. Her insatiable kissing drew me in. Each enthusiastic embrace energized me to kiss back, to press harder, to parry with her tongue, to suck her lips.

"Drrrringgg ..." The phone's ring zipped through me like an electric shock.

Mary-Kate reached over me and picked it up. "Hello?" she answered calmly, getting up on her knees and sitting on my stomach. "Mommy? Hi! ... Watching TV with Uncle Harvey. ... No, I finished it. Uncle Harvey helped me. I think he enjoyed tutoring me." She glanced down at me, smiled and winked.

"Mommy? ... Mommy? Who are you talking to?" She rolled her eyes. "Mommy, are you there?" As she stared up at the ceiling, she played with her zipper tab and then absently pulled it down her front. What was she thinking?

"Mommy? Mommy?" she tried to re-engage her mother. I grabbed the tab out of her hand and zipped it back up, which provoked her to slap my hands and attempt to unzip it again. Our hands grappled until she finally gave up.

"Mommy? ... Well, what was Daddy doing?" She dropped her hand to the hem of her shirt and started to pull it up. I tried to grab it back down, but she began walking up my body on her knees, and I had trouble getting my arms into position. Her groin slowly approached my face. "But if I'm finished, I should be able to stay up."

Mary-Kate had pulled her shirt up to her waist and positioned her pussy over my mouth. A thin fold of skin drooped below her fine hair and hovered inches over my lips. I squirmed my arms around desperately to push her back.

"Do you want to talk to him?" she asked, grinning widely at me. "Just a minute, he's got something in his mouth." She dipped down and slid her pussy lip across my lips.

I pushed her back and grabbed the phone out of her hand, wiping my mouth with my hand. She fell on her back, laughing.

"Sandra?" I spoke into the phone anxiously.

"Harvey, I don't want Mary-Kate to stay up late. Don't let her push you around. If she doesn't ... Bob! No! That one over there! I didn't say this one; I said that one. ..."

Mary-Kate crouched down at the end of the couch, and with an evil look, she crept hand-over-hand up my legs. At my waist, she undid the button on my pants and started sliding the zipper down. I batted at her hands, and again, we grappled for position, but this time, she had her two hands against my one.

I lost track of my sister's distant nagging and focused instead on the battle I was losing at my fly. My pants were now completely undone, and Mary-Kate was pinching at my shorts to pull them down. I grabbed onto some fingers from both her hands and gripped them. She tried to wiggle them away and then bent down and bit the back of my hand.

"Owww!" I cried.

"Harvey, what's wrong," my sister asked. Mary-Kate rolled back, laughing.

"Owhhh, that's not right," I said, shifting my legs off the couch and sitting up.

"What's not right?" she asked.

"The ... uh ... the thing about the flowers that you were saying," I ventured. Mary-Kate prowled up the couch towards me again. I waved a finger menacingly at her, but she just kissed it and crawled past.

"You're telling me," my sister continued, "I am having to re-organize this entire funeral. ... Bob. Bob! Bring me that brochure. No, no, no, the other one. ..."

Mary-Kate snuggled her face up beside my head, and then I felt something wet penetrate my ear. It was the tip of her tongue. I shook my head away, but she gripped firmly onto my neck. Then I felt her biting on my earlobe.

"Sandra?!! Sandra?!!" I called out in a panic. "I should really be getting Mary-Kate to bed now. It's getting pretty late." I tried to push her off me, but she trapped my hand under her knee.

"Okay, Harvey," my sister replied, "I have to go now too." Mary-Kate sucked my earlobe into her mouth and nibbled on it with her lips. As scared as I was, I still felt my erection poke stiffly up into the front of my shorts.

"We're going to be too busy tomorrow to phone ..." Sandra continued.

"Okay," I replied quickly, trying to hurry her along. Mary-Kate breathed into my ear. The warm air seemed to travel down my spine.

"We'll try and phone you on Saturday before we leave. Otherwise, we'll see you when we get home."

"Okay. Well, bye Sandra," I said hurriedly.

"Bye, Mommy," Mary-Kate called out before I hung up.

*** Thursday: Bedtime ***

I spun around and glared at her. "What are you doing?!!" I howled. "You'll get us in trouble!"

Mary-Kate clasped her hands over her mouth and squealed. Then she threw her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. "I'm just trying to show you my appreciation for looking after me this week," she said coyly.

I stood up and fastened my pants. I held out my hand to her. "Come on," I said, "You're off to bed now." She was way out of control, and this seemed like the best way to cool things down.

She sat on her hands and shook her head. "I'll go later," she replied and then turned her head away to avoid my stare.

"Right!" I declared and bent down. I hooked my arms under her and lifted with an audible grunt.

"Aiyyyeee!" she squealed and threw her arms around my neck. "Don't drop me, Uncle Harvey!"

I took a few babysteps to get started and then stumbled towards her room. I thanked the heavens that it was not a big house. As I lumbered along, she slowly unzipped her sleepshirt. "Hey!" I grunted, "What are you doing? Stop that!"

"I have to take this off for bed, Unc," she purred, "It's too ho-o-o-ot to wear under the covers." She finished unzipping the shirt and draped it open. I looked stoically to my front, but in my peripheral vision, I could see pinkness and curves and fur and a hand that was sliding over all of it. My blood pressure rose steadily, and it wasn't just from my exertion.

I swerved into her room and set her down. "Thanks," she said in a pixie voice and let her shirt slide down her arms to the floor. She tiptoed over to her bed and herded her stuffed animals over to her clothes hamper. Then, she threw back the sheets and lay on her back.

I stared down at her soft, youthful form and her innocent, vulnerable gaze. Now might have been a good time to talk to her, but after necking with her on the couch, I felt complicit and addled. Any moral line that I could have proscribed us from crossing had long ago receded into the distance. I drew the sheets over her body and then sat down beside her.

"Uncle Harvey?"

"Yes, pumpkin."

"Did you like kissing me in the living room?"

I looked at her face. She seemed so guileless. "Yes, pumpkin."

"I liked it too." She grinned. "You owe me more homework kisses, y'know."

"I think you used up your rewards for tonight, my dear," I said and then added, "You mustn't tell your parents about that or anything else we've done like that this week."

"Of course not, Unc."

Nothing brings moral clarity like an appeal to suppress truth.

"Uncle Harvey? Will you hold my hand?"

"Sure, sweetie," I said, placing my hand in hers and letting her draw it under the covers.

"Remember last night, I said that I had a sore tummy," she said and continued to push my hand lower, "Well, I'm all tingly again."

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, pulling back on my hand. She held it firm enough to keep me from extracting it, but I kept it from going below her stomach. "I'm not falling for that one again."

"I'm not kidding," she whimpered, "I feel like my coochie is on fire and my tummy is doing flips. Please make it feel better."

"I can't, baby. We've done too much already."

"Unc, please. If you make me feel better, I'll smother you with kisses all night." She pushed on my hand again, and I resisted, finally breaking her hold and withdrawing it from the sheets.

"There's nothing I'd like better, but we can't," I said with almost no conviction. I gave her a quick kiss on the lips and then walked towards the door.

"Uncle, ple-e-e-ease," she pleaded, but with as much strength as I could muster, I turned out the light and left the room.

I leaned my back against her closed door and grimaced. I wanted so much to barge back in and take her. Kissing her earlier had been my undoing. She wasn't the only one with a burning groin, but I braced myself. Be strong!

Then from inside her room, I heard a muffled moan, "Uncle, ple-e-e-ease come back." Aaaahhh! It was too much. I escaped to the living room.

*** Thursday: Night ***

My stomach was doing flops. I tried to watch TV, but that became annoying, so I paced for a while but realized the futility in that. In desperation, I raided my sister's liquor cabinet. Finding a suitable scotch, I downed a double, which burned on its descent but took the edge off, and then I took my time actually tasting another one. Slowly, I found some peace.

I turned off the lights, washed up and headed for my bed. At Mary-Kate's room, I pressed my ear to the door and heard nothing, but I prudently decided against looking in on her.

I stripped down to my boxers and slid into bed. I couldn't believe that the week wasn't even half over. I thought about giving myself another moral pep talk but couldn't bear the hypocrisy of it. No, I knew now that I wasn't going to be firm. Instead, I would just have to avoid ...

Suddenly, my door opened and closed, and through the darkness, a lithe figure pitter-patted around to the far side of the bed and ducked under the sheets. The figure slid up against me, and two thin arms snaked around my body. Her breathing was laboured and anxious. Her body was writhing slightly against my body.

"Mary-Kate," I tried to say with some authority, but she pinched my lips closed with her fingers as soon as I started speaking. Her face appeared beside mine. Panting, she inspected me like a predator scrutinizing a downed prey. Pant, pant. Her nose came close to my face and grazed my chin in passing. Pant, pant. Then she brought her mouth to my ear. "Uncle ..." Pant, pant. "I'm burning up." Pant, pant.

She brought her face over mine, her lips hovering barely over my mouth. Her breathing blew onto my lips. Pant ... pant ... pant ... pant ... Suddenly, she pressed onto my mouth with force. She kissed me savagely without stopping. Over and over, she mushed and smacked. I could barely catch my breath between assaults. Her lips squished and molded my mouth like putty, and the room filled with wet smucking sounds.

Then she pulled back. "Uncle," she whimpered, "I can't stand it anymore." She grabbed my wrist and rolled onto her back, pulling me onto my side in the process. "Please," she said, placing my hand on her stomach, "Please."

It was too pathetic for me to bear. I gave her a kiss and slid my hand over her abdomen to her fur patch. Realizing that I was going to comply, she exhaled loudly and stretched out her body. My fingers combed through her fine hair and pushed gently into her wet folds. She gasped.

I tickled a finger around her lips, and each time I passed over her clitoris, I pressed down a bit. She seemed to be frozen at the end of an inhale, focusing on the sensation, and then, she gyrated her hips to my circling finger.

I changed to buffing gently on the side of her clit. Not too fast, not too slow. Not too hard, not too soft. "Mmmm!" she strained, "Mmmm!" Buff and buff and buff. Buff and buff and buff. Her hips rocked to adjust the pressure.

Finally, I moved my finger to her opening. It was sopping wet, and as I slowly inserted, her juices oozed out onto the mattress. "Ohhhhh!!" she exhaled.

I extracted my finger completely and then slowly glided it back in, slipping wetly through her moist tunnel. "Hssst," she gasped as I eased my finger in. I pulled it out again and then paused before returning it. Out, pause, in. Out, pause, in. Eventually, her pussy began to lunge for my finger. "Mmmm," she whined impatiently.

I kept my finger inside and moved it in and out in a rhythm. Her juices lubricated my sliding. In and out. In and out. Her tunnel walls gripped my digit. In and out. In and out. Her body writhed as if begging me to speed up, but I kept the same rhythm. In and out. In and out.

Finally, her inner walls clenched, and her back arched. I vibrated my hand swiftly. Swick, swick, swick, swick, swick. My fingertip found a spot on the upper wall of her vagina, and I focused all of my energy there. Swick, swick, swick, swick, swick.

"OHHH! OHHH! OHHH!" she bellowed. Then her whole body went rigid, and I stopped moving. She maintained the spasm for a second or two and then collapsed onto the bed. Anxiously, she pushed on my arm to force its withdrawal, and then she quivered all over again, and then again.

Finally, she buried her head into my armpit and started crying. That scared me a bit. I petted her hair and murmured to her soothingly. "There, there. It's okay. Everything's okay."

I lifted up her chin and saw tears running over her cheeks onto the sheets. When our eyes met, she snickered in embarrassment.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," she whimpered, "I don't know why I'm crying. That felt fantastic." She started blubbering again, so I hugged her to my chest until she settled down.

"Are you getting emotional on me?" I asked.

"No," she replied, "I just felt like crying, that's all." Then she propped herself on an elbow. "That's right!" She slapped my chest. "I'm crying because you're a brute! You have violated me, and I am devastated." She raised the back of her hand melodramatically to her forehead and then swooned onto the mattress.

I laughed at her antics. "Okay, Meryl Streep. Take your performance over to your room. It's bedtime now."


I threw back the sheets. "Let's go. You've got school tomorrow. If you fall asleep in class, I don't want to be telling your teacher why."

"But I'm sleeping with you tonight."

"Ohhh, no you're not. Unh unh. Let's go." I gave her bottom a little slap.

"But you've already deflowered me, so I have no virtue left to protect."

"What are you talking about? I have hardly deflowered you, and there are far more things that could go wrong."

"Really?!!" she exclaimed, pouncing onto my chest. Her eyes opened wide. "Like what?"

"Like none of your business. Come on. Out you go." I tried to roll her over me, so that I could carry her off the bed, but she twisted away.

"No, tell me what else we can do."

"All right, you asked for it." I jumped out of bed and grabbed for her to take her back to her room, but she saw what I was doing and squirmed across the bed. I snatched her ankle and pulled her towards me. As she slid across the mattress, she squealed loudly. Then she clutched onto the edge of the mattress, and when I pulled her body again, the mattress curved with her and then sling-shotted her back when I let go.

Finally, I gripped a vulnerable area under her armpits, forcing her arms to snap back to her sides for protection. She shrieked at the treacherousness of the tactic. I carried her to the door and then put her down to walk her out, but she bolted to the other side of the bed and slipped back into the sheets.

I sighed and dropped my arms in defeat. "Okay. Have it your way. I'm going to go sleep on the couch."

"Uncle! Uncle! Wait," she called me back, "Don't go. You don't want to sleep out there."

"No, but we're not going to be sleeping together tonight."

"Okay, I'll make you a deal. I'll be a good girl and go back to bed, if ..."

"If what?"

"If you let me see and touch your wiener," she suggested mischievously.

"What?!! No way."

"No. Wait, wait. Don't go," she said, "I just want to touch it, that's all. What could happen?"

"Well, right now ...," I started to say more than I wanted to explain.

"Right now, what?"

"Nothing," I replied, "Okay. Let me get this straight. You look at it and touch it, and then you go to bed."

"Yup. I look at it and touch it, and when I'm done, I'll go to bed."

"No no no no no. You look at it and touch it, and when I say you're done, you'll go to bed."

She screwed up her face, but then she capitulated.

I lay down on my back, and she snuggled up to my side. I was about to take off my shorts, but she placed her hand on top of my groin before I could move. Her fingers traced lightly over the bulge in my shorts, defining its outline. She petted my erection softly through the thin cotton, and it pressed back eagerly to her strokes.

"Here," I whispered, "Let me slip those off."

Her fingers fiddled with my balls and then squeezed them. "No," she whispered back, "I want to do it." Then, she undid the button on my fly and slid her hand inside. She felt for my shaft and followed it down to my balls, which she played with for a bit. Then she wrapped her hand around the base of my penis and slid her hand up to the tip. I inhaled sharply.

"What's wrong?" she whispered.

"Nothing," I replied.

"Then why did you breathe in like that?"

"It just felt good, that's all."

"What? This?" She repeated her stroke.


"It felt good?" She repeated it again.

"Don't do that, or we'll have to stop."

She giggled and drew my hard-on through the fly and out of my shorts. It lay stiffly on top of the material.

She traced a fingernail along it. "Wow! It's so hard, but the skin is still so soft."

She sat up and inspected it more closely. "Look at its tip. The skin is so smooth. It looks like a plum or something." Then she tilted it vertically. "It's pointing up," she said playfully and then formed her hand into a little fist and dragged it down the shaft.

I jerked my body up. "Whoa! Don't do that!"

"Why? Does that feel good like before?"

"It feels way too good."

"What would happen if I kept doing that?"


"So it's okay if I do it again." She formed her hand again and placed it over the tip.

"No don't!"

"Well then, tell me."

"Okay, okay. I would spurt cum all over the place."

"Really?!! Let's see!" She grasped my tip and ran her hand down my shaft.

I jerked my hips away. "No! That's it. We're done for the night. Off to bed."

"Okay, okay. Wait. One more thing. One more thing, and then I'll go to bed. I promise."


"I just want to say good night to it."

"And then you'll go to bed?"

"Yes-s-s-s," she huffed


She leaned over my lap. "Good night, Uncle Harvey's wiener," she said sweetly and then gave its head a big kiss.

I nearly came when she made contact, but I composed myself enough to shoo her to bed. "All right, off you go," I said as she jumped up and scampered across to her room. The image of her lips touching my penis lingered in my mind as I drifted off to sleep.

To be continued....



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