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Unseasonably early snow drifted down in fat flakes from a leaden sky, landing with the softest patter on the back lawn. I stood, warm mulled wine in hand, on the freezing deck at the back of my house, not concerned by the gathering drifts on my shoulders. I looked out over the ruins of the garden, trees and bushes bare, flowers cut back to their roots, and remembered it in warmer, happier days. A contemplative mood had taken hold of me at the beginning of the week, and not let go since. So much change, so much to think about, so much damage done and not yet at the turning point of the darkest day.

I had plenty to be thankful for, because my sister and her kids had arrived with the express intention of cheering me up. They had come laden with decorations and presents, and a tree strapped to the roof of their knackered old Discovery, which they had, in Jenny's own special way, carted all the way down from Newcastle. Why she hadn't just bought one locally I couldn't comprehend; perhaps she imagined that the whole of Suffolk was bereft of fir trees. It was a fine specimen, though, once we'd managed to disentangle it from the fine plastic web in which it was encased. And now they were inside my house, one week ahead of Christmas, decorating. I should probably have been in there with them but I hadn't yet found my Christmas spirit.

With good reason, I suppose. I had just sold my half of the company I had spent the last ten years building, a company I loved and without which I was bereft. And, call me heartless if you will, on a lesser note my divorce had just been finalised. The two were linked, of course - the court settlement came down heavily in favour of my ex-wife, who pleaded all sorts of nonsense about my behaviour, batted her eyelids at the judge and got away with daylight robbery. The only way of meeting the terms of the deal was to sell up, and so I had done so, albeit with the greatest reluctance. The buyers had offered to allow me to stay on as MD but there was little desire in my heart to do so - if I was going to be separated from my company, it needed to be a clean break. Even with a huge portion of the revenue going my wife's way I would be solvent for a little while yet, so there was that at least to be happy about. For the first time in a decade I found myself with nothing to do, and no plans for Christmas.

That was when Jen called. She, too, had been through a messy divorce, though this was somewhat different and a few years behind her now. In fact, it was the source of the event in my life of which I am most proud - the day that Jen admitted that Tony had hit her, I drove up to Newcastle without stopping, found him drunk in the local pub and beat seven shades of shit out of him. Violence isn't the answer, I know, but sometimes it just feels damned good. I avoided a jail sentence because the barman testified in court that it was self-defence on my part, and no-one in there would say any different. Tony had a bit of a reputation around those parts, and it wasn't a nice one.

This particular Christmas, Jen had nowhere to go and wanted to get the kids out of town. They'd had a rough few months after Jen lost her job, and although she was working again Christmas wasn't going to be very fun for the kids with a backlog of debt to clear. So she killed two birds with one stone - she came down south to cheer me up, and got the kids away from the gloom of Christmas. And, quite unbeknownst to any of them, I planned to give them the Christmas of their dreams at whatever cost.
I heard squeals behind me, and turned to see Chrissie, the five year old, spraying fake snow at Faith, her ten year old sister, while their brother, David watched on laughing. Quite without realising I had started smiling, and caught my reflection in the window. It looked out of place, a ghoulish apparition hovering in front of the happy family scene within, and suddenly I felt wrong for staring at them. I turned away, and found myself face to face with Jen.

"Wondered where you'd got to," she said accusingly, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the chill. "Aren't you freezing out here?"

I shrugged.

"It's not so bad."

"Moping about again, are you?" she said, with a glint in her eye.

I stared straight at her, hoping to convey my displeasure at her question, but seemingly doing nothing of the sort as she laughed at me.

"Well, don't stay out here forever. The kids want you to put the star on top of the tree. They say you have to do it, no-one else."

She went back inside without waiting for my answer. She was right, I needed to get inside - I could feel icy-cold water trickling down my back from snow melting on my shoulders. Now, I decided, was the perfect time to spring my surprise.
I walked back into the house, banging snow off my shoes and leaving them by the patio door, stepping into my slippers and feeling suddenly light-headed in the roasting heat of the room. I sidled over to Jen, who was standing watching the kids make a mess of my living room.

"I'm not going to apologise, you know," she said. "Not for any of it. I don't care if your pristine house is a complete mess, you're going to have fun and that's that."

I smiled down at my little sister, and knew I'd done the right thing. I was going to utterly blow their minds.

"Jen, did you do as I asked and bring the kids' passports here for safekeeping?"

She looked at me strangely, but nodded.

"You're really worried about Tony, aren't you?"

"Well, he's got a history of doing stupid things. Skipping the country with the kids wouldn't be too much of a stretch for him, especially with his mum out in Spain now."

"Yeah, I s'pose so. Well, they're here anyway, in my bag. You want them now?"

I shook my head.

"No, as long as you have them, everything will work out fine."

She gave me the same puzzled look again.

"Zack, what are you planning?"

I didn't answer, but instead walked into the middle of the room, grabbing David and little Chrissie into a hug and walking to the sofa, collapsing backwards with two screaming children on top of me. I managed to subdue them with whispered threats of tickling, though the silence only lasted a moment before Faith entered the fray, ostensibly to rescue her siblings, but largely with the intention of joining in the wrestling match.

"Right, calm down you three!" I shouted, and eventually they obeyed, though there were occasional little giggles. I got the kids to sit on the sofa nicely, and then indicated to Jen that she should join us. She rolled here eyes, but did so, dragging her feet until Chrissie jumped up and pulled her by the hand.

"OK," I began, not quite sure how to broach the subject but hoping inspiration would come to me when needed. "I know this year hasn't been great for you all, and I haven't done much smiling either. So, I thought rather than staying here the whole time we might try going away for a little bit."

I smiled at the four very confused faces around me, enjoying the moment.

"Don't worry, we'll be back on Christmas eve, and we're going to have Christmas day here just as we planned, but that still leaves four days between now and then. I know you wanted to go ice-skating and do all that stuff, but I'm afraid we won't be going to the rink in town."

At that both Faith and David groaned in disappointment. I laughed and held my hands up.

"It's OK, I think I may be able to do better than that. Actually, I think there might even be ice skating where we're going."

"It's not going to be another cottage is it?" Faith asked dejectedly. I'd mistakenly taken them on the most boring holiday of their lives the year before and I think it had put them off holiday cottages for life.

"No, nothing like that," I laughed. "No, it's a thousand times better, in fact. Should I give you a clue?"

All three kids nodded, and I could see that even Jen was intrigued. I got up and got a pen and a pad from the table in the hall, and drew a simple shape on it - a semi-circle and two smaller circles on top. I roughly coloured it in, then turned it to face them and waited for the response.

It was David who got it first, and I could see his eyes going wide.

"Is it.... is it Disneyland?" he asked.

I smiled at him and nodded, and then the world exploded.

Suddenly I was under two screaming, hugging children, and could sense a third doing an excited bouncy dance somewhere near my head. This went on for some time, with little let up in intensity until their mother called them off and they reluctantly allowed me to sit up. Faith immediately wormed her way into my lap and kissed me on the cheek, then remained there, snuggling into me. I held her to me and enjoyed the warmth.

"When are we going?" David asked, visibly shaking with excitement.

"Tonight," I answered. "Actually," I continued, "you've got about an hour to pack before the taxi gets here, so you better get moving. Oh, and there's a little something extra for you all on your beds."

They scampered off, desperate to find out what it was.

"What've you done?" Jen asked, her eyes wide.

I shrugged and smiled at her.

"I thought we could all use a holiday. Do you mind?"

"No, of course not! I mean, God, they've wanted to go there forever. It's just so unexpected. It must've cost you a fortune!"

"No, not really. I never got paid properly for an advertising campaign the company did for one of the travel agents, so they sort of owed me. Managed to get a huge discount."

"But I thought you sold the company?"

"Getting this sorted was the very last thing I did before signing the papers."

She laughed and hugged me. When she pulled way there were tears in her eyes.

"Thanks, Zack," she said. "The kids really needed something like this. We all did."

A second later we were interrupted by Faith running back into the living room with her arms full of clothes saying 'oh my God!' over and over again. She dumped them on the sofa next to her mum and started gabbling away.

"Look, mum! Look what Uncle Zack got me!"

She was rummaging through the pile of clothes and holding things up for her mum to look at. Jen turned to me with one eyebrow raised.

"Well, I thought they ought to have something special to go away in. Claire, my old PA, came to the shops and helped me pick things out for them."

Jen shook her head and laughed, and turned her attention to her increasingly excited daughter, who was holding up the long, black overcoat I'd been especially proud of finding. It was pure class, and had cost more than the rest of her outfit put together, but I reasoned that as a girl on the cusp of womanhood it was time she got something a bit more grown-up than the pink cagoule she normally sported.

I left Jen and Faith in the living room and went of in search of the other two. When I found them, David was helping his little sister into the Cinderella dress I'd bought her, whilst stripped to the waist himself and already wearing the hipster jeans I'd bought him. I admired his muscled, toned physique for a moment, wishing my own body was still so well put together; at twelve, he truly would have made a perfect model for an updated version of Michelangelo's eponymous statue. When he spotted me he jumped up and hugged me, then stepped back with an embarrassed look on his face, presumably because he'd realised he was only wearing the jeans.

"Thanks, Uncle Zack. I was just getting changed and Chrissie made me help her put her dress on, so I didn't have time to get my top."

"That's cool, mate. I think I'll survive. Thanks for helping Chrissie, too."

He smiled shyly at me then went to root through his things for something to put on. When he chose the rolled-sleeve lumberjack shirt I'd found in Hollister I gave a slight nod of approval - he looked great without a top on, but the shirt accentuated his well-muscled upper body. I was surprised at quite how much interest he piqued in me, though I shouldn't have been.

I ought to qualify that statement, I suppose. I'm not entirely immune to the charms of a well turned-out young lad or lass, you see. I'm not exclusively paedosexual as some people seem to be, but it's certainly an aspect of my wider sexuality, and something I'd always taken pains to hide. It was only with Jen that I'd ever allowed myself a moment of weakness - being four years her senior and in the grip of a storm of hormones I had induced her to play naughty games when we were kids, from the time she was seven up until puberty was well under way for her.

We'd spoken of it a few times since and she viewed those times with mixed emotions - part of her was concerned at the loss of innocence at such a young age, but a greater part viewed the episodes with warm nostalgia. We had always enjoyed ourselves, and it was fair to say we gained equal pleasure from our trysts, but there was the hint of doubt in her mind about whether she would have initiated something if I hadn't. I, of course, hated myself for having corrupted her, and vowed never to touch a child in that way as an adult. Up until the start of this tale that promise had remained intact, largely because I also found myself attracted to adult women of a certain type.

Of course, a promise not to touch was no restriction on looking, which with the confirmation of my divorce I found myself doing a little more often these days. Even Chrissie had set my tummy aflutter by parading her little body around the house after her bath - she was too young to be of real interest, but a naked girl is a naked girl, and her body wasn't nearly as juvenile-looking as her age might have suggested. Faith and David were a little more reserved, of course, though close observation had revealed that neither wore underpants beneath their thin cotton pyjamas, in which they had a habit of sitting around the house of an evening after their showers. I hovered in a haze of gentle titillation the entire time, and gloried in the feel of their bodies separated from my hands by just a single layer of cloth whenever hugs were sought or tickles given. Faith, especially, had a rather flirty way with me, which I took as a sign of her impending descent into full-blown puberty, and if I'm honest I did little to disarm her, preferring to be the centre of her attention.

Both evenings Jen and the kids had been with me this time we had put Chrissie to bed then sat down as a family to watch a film, and both times I had quickly found my lap occupied by Faith, squirming her hot little bottom into my crotch, grabbing my arms in a hug around her body, insisting that we were covered with a blanket. And there we would stay for the duration of the film, her pleasant mass pressing down along the length of my body, her warmth shared with mine, her girlish scent - strawberry flavoured shampoo and a hint of something more human beneath - drifting up to invade my senses. I hoped she couldn't feel the turgid mass of my manhood pushing up against her behind each time she wriggled, and I tried to stop myself imagining how close it was to her plump, juvenile sex.

Of course, if there was anything there on Faith's part it was nothing more than a childish crush. I'm sure Faith, if she felt anything more than familial love for me, certainly wasn't itching to get into my pants in the way I was increasingly interested in seeing what was in hers. Oh, my girl, do you have no notion of how you torture me so?

Still, I have become distracted. This evening there was no time for hugging, no time for sitting in front of the television with the gentle swell of her rump fitted perfectly to the concave curves of my crotch. No, this evening we rushed, and laughed, and shouted a little, because that's what you do when the pressure's on, and finally, breathlessly, somehow managed to find ourselves crammed into the taxi on the way to St Pancras with passports clutched in hands and grins plastered on our faces.

Though I'd taken the train to the continent any number of times, this was the first trip for both Jen and the kids. David and Faith, especially, were all but uncontrollably excited by the prospect of travelling through the tunnel, though by this time Chrissie was flagging and Jen was struggling to keep her on an even keel. By the time we were seated the five year old was too far gone, and quickly fell asleep on Jen's lap. Jen followed her into sleep only a few moments later, and so it was left to me and the two older kids to carry the excitement. As we pulled away from the station it became clear that the seats around the table across the aisle were unreserved, and so, leaving Jen and Chrissie to sleep we decamped to the empty seats. Faith wormed her way past me to take a window seat, and David sat opposite her, also keen to be by the window, even though all outside was darkness.

The kids chattered excitedly for a while, but as the evening wore on they became quieter and quieter, until David drifted off to sleep and there was only Faith and I left. She leaned against me, resting her head on my upper arm, and grabbed my big hand in both of hers, dragging it into her lap, holding it there as if to stop me leaving. Eventually she, too, was lulled to sleep by the rocking of the train, leaving me alone as the only one still awake.

I had to wake them when we arrived in Paris, though I would happily have stayed there as Faith's pillow for the rest of my life. The two older kids were groggy and indistinct, acting like zombies as we made our way out of the station and into a waiting car, which was taking us straight to the park and the hotel we had booked there. I carried Chrissie and steered a still-sleepy Jen ahead of me, dragging the two zombies behind me. I was so thankful I had decided to order the car, because by the time we made it to the park it was very late at night. Porters came and took our bags, and the concierge handed over the keys before I'd even got us checked in, smiling at the sight of the half-asleep kids and taking pity on us. As Jen took them up to the rooms, I turned my hand to the task of straightening out the paperwork.

"I've had to change your rooms, sir," the concierge said, a slightly sickening smile on her face. "There was a problem with the booking, I'm afraid, but I've done my best. For some reason, the booking had you in a single room and your wife and children in a family suite. I've corrected it and put you and your wife in a double with the children in a connecting twin with an extra bed. I trust that is acceptable."

My heart dropped. Yes, we did rather look like a husband, wife and kids, especially since Jen had reverted to her maiden name after her divorce, but that didn't mean the booking could be ignored.

"They are better rooms, sir," said the concierge on seeing my thunderous expression.

"I appreciate that, but I'm afraid you've misunderstood," I said, trying to maintain my composure. "I'm travelling with my sister and her children. A double will not be acceptable."

Her face dropped, and suddenly I felt like a bastard. She'd only been trying to help, and there really wasn't that much of a reason to be angry with her.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I'll see what I can do to rectify the situation. We are quite fully booked, however. I could try to get another bed put into the double room, if that would help."

I shook my head.

"Look, it's really late and I just want to get to bed. Leave it to me and we'll sort something out. I'm sure one of the kids could take the double with their mother."

Relief flooded her face - I got the feeling she would have had a hard time finding alternative arrangements. I made my way upstairs with the remainder of our bags, wondering how Jen would take the news.

Of course, she already knew, because she'd gone ahead of me. She greeted me with a wry smile.

"Interesting booking," she said archly. I held up my hands in defence.

"Not my idea. They thought I'd messed up the booking, and that you're my wife. They gave us a double so we could be together."

Jen wrinkled her nose at the idea.

"No offence, brother dearest, but I really don't want to share a bed with you. Besides, Chrissie would want me to be with her."

"Well, why don't you two take the double, then?" I said. "I'll bunk in with David and Faith."

"No, not sure that would work. She's a wriggler; I wouldn't get a moment's sleep. No, would you mind taking the double and having one of the kids? I don't think David would go for it, but Faith might."

Time slowed for a moment. The thought of sharing a bed with Faith hadn't even crossed my sleep-deprived mind. I was too tired to even realise it was a possibility, but by God I wanted it to happen, and badly. Of course, I couldn't let on quite how keen I was.

"Uh, sure, I suppose so. Are you sure she won't mind sharing with her stinky old uncle?"

"Oh come on," Jen laughed, a twinkle in her eye. "Surely you've realised she thinks the world of you? She'd jump at the chance."

And indeed she did. As I sat on the edge of the bed reading through the usual hotel literature, the connecting door opened and a suddenly re-invigorated Faith flew through, jumping the last five feet to land on the bed with a thump. All pretence of her being a grown-up vanished in that moment, though that made little impact on my desire for her lithe young body.

"Am I really going to sleep with you, uncle Zack?" she asked, her eyes alight with merriment and, I realised with a churn of the stomach, unconcealed desire.

"If you don't mind," I replied, trying to remain calm and uninterested.

She shook her head, sending her hair flying this way and that, and jumped up from her kneeling position toward the head of the bed, twisting to land on her back with her arms and legs spread. She looked so inviting lying there, and it took a serious strength of will not to jump on top of her. The coming days would be a serious test of my moral rectitude, I realised.

She was first into bed, disappearing into the bathroom to change, though she made no effort to close the door, relying on the layout of the room to hide her body from my eyes. I wondered about that, trying to decide if she was teasing me by doing so, or merely trusting me not to walk in. I was sorely tempted to do just that, but sat paralysed by indecision until it was too late. She emerged in a pair of light pink pyjamas and got straight into bed.

Only when it was my turn to go and change did it occur to me that I hadn't prepared for this - I only ever wore a pair of shorts to bed, never anything on top, and so all I had was a pair of shorts to sleep in. I considered grabbing a spare t-shirt from my bag and wearing that, but the devil took me in that moment, and I decided not to. My logic, weak though it was, was that Faith had seen me wandering around my house in the mornings anyway, so why should I change my behaviour now? Besides, I didn't want her to read anything untoward into a sudden change in my attire. Oh, the excuses we make for ourselves, eh? It was utter rubbish, of course - there was no way she would have noticed me adding a t-shirt to my sleeping outfit, but I needed a reason to justify sleeping in nothing but my shorts.

Faith was already asleep when I get into bed, though she roused slightly and rolled toward me, placing her arm across my chest possessively as I lay there on my back, blood pounding in my ears. Sleep eventually claimed me.

---

I woke groggily, aware of a hot, hot presence wrapped close into my body, and the scent of strawberries filling my nostrils. Noises from the room next door had woken me, I realised. Chrissie's raised voice, and David trying to calm her down. I smiled, disentangling myself from Faith, ignoring her grumbles as I slipped my arm out from beneath her. A crack in the curtains revealed the beginnings of daylight, so it wasn't too early.

I slipped out of bed, glad to be facing away from Faith so that my thumping erection was hidden from her eyes. The very head of my manhood has slipped free of the waistband of my shorts, and its tip was wet with excitement. I remembered with guilt the dream I had been having immediately before I awoke, which explained my arousal. Stumbling into the bathroom I managed to deflate myself enough to find relief for my aching bladder, and then on a whim fired up the shower.

Hot water, and plenty of it, cascaded over me, washing away the cobwebs of the night, easing muscles which ached with the unfamiliarity of a strange bed. As I drifted gracefully into middle age I found myself suffering a little more each time I slept in a different bed - a sure sign that my body was beginning to really feel my lack of exercise. I flexed my neck this way and that, hearing gunfire bouncing off the tiled walls as the vertebrae cracked.

"Oh my God, was that you?" I heard a voice from beyond the curtain.

Jesus! Faith was in the bathroom with me! What the hell was she doing? I peered around the curtain, then wished I'd just shouted instead, because there, with her top missing and her pants around her ankles was Faith, taking a morning piss. I couldn't see anything untoward - she was sideways on and leaning forward - but seeing her like that immediately reinstated my earlier problem; I was instantly as hard as a rock.

"Sorry," she said, grinning up at me. "I couldn't hold it any longer."

"No, that's fine," I squeaked, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. I let the curtain go and stood there beneath the flow, trying desperately to forget what I'd seen. Her slender body was still that of a child, and she clearly felt no need to cover her flat chest. Her skin was achingly pale, though it was always likely to be given the shocking redness of her hair. Freckles covered her upper arms and trailed across her shoulders.

"Can I have a shower when you're done?" she called out, immediately disabusing me of the notion I had of smelly young kids who never washed. Perhaps she was a little more mature than I gave her credit for. Or, at least, trying to be.

"Sure, just give me a little privacy, yeah?"

I heard her suppress a giggle, which followed her out of the bathroom and turned into a full-on belly laugh coming from the bed. I stood there trying to will away my excitement, but in the end had to concede defeat and wash my lumpy semen down the drain. Wrapping my still half-hard manhood down against my leg with the towel I exited the bathroom.

Still topless, Faith smirked at me as she walked past in the other direction, making no effort to hide her downward glance. I turned my head to look at her rear, and nearly had a heart-attack - there, at the base of her spine, just above the waistband of her pyjama trousers (and diving below as well, if I was any judge) was a crusty, darkened trail. A trail of my excitement, smeared on her back in those blissful moments before waking. I wondered if she even knew it was there; I tried to believe she didn't, but given that I knew the sensation of it dried on my own skin, there was no way she couldn't. I fell onto the bed and watched as with an utter lack of modesty she dropped her pants at the threshold to the bathroom and walked in naked. Oh God...

She emerged in a towel ten minutes later, by which time I was dressed. She shooed me out of the room, making me wait on the balcony in the freezing morning air with the curtain closed while she dressed. After the show she'd given me already that morning I was a little surprised to find she wasn't just going to parade around naked, but perhaps she'd had time to reflect in the shower and realise she was acting a bit over the top. Either way I was glad to be allowed back into the room after only a few frigid moments.

Once inside she smiled her most winsome smile and all but ordered me to sit down to she could perch in front of me and have me brush out her hair. It was something we'd done many times before - a little ritual for uncle-niece bonding, you might say - but as she sat with her bottom pressed very firmly back into my crotch it took on an altogether different aspect. I sat with the fresh scent of her shampoo filling my nostrils. I inhaled deeply and there was something else beneath, something far more subtle. Perfume. Only a hint, but enough to be enticing, a fruity, spicy aroma which had exactly the desired effect on me. Her back arched away from me as she sat forward but with her head up, and I found myself mesmerised by the soft curve of her neck.

She wore a simple gold chain, which sat beautifully against he pale skin; I recognised it as my birthday present to her the year before. I'd completely forgotten I'd even given it to her, but clearly she hadn't. I knew that hanging on the top of her chest, just below where her delicate collarbones met, would be a small pendant of carved gold, a representation of the raging sea in the style of the Japanese artist Hokusai. She had expressed a love for the print of The Great Wave Off Kanagawa which hung in my office, and when a few weeks later I spotted the pendant in a local jewellers I bought it without hesitation. When my wife found it she flew off the hook, accusing me of having an affair; it was one of the turning points in our relationship, in fact, marking the end of trust. It pleased me to know that the abuse I took was worth it.

I drew her hair back into my grasp, letting my fingertips brush across the delicate skin just above the golden chain. She shivered and goosebumps sprang up. I could feel myself leaning forward and knew that I was about to cross the line, but I was powerless to stop myself. I needed at some primal level to kiss her neck, and there was nothing my rational mind could do to stop me.

She shivered as my lips touched her skin, squirming and giggling, though she also let out a slight moan.

"That was nice..." she whispered as I withdrew.

I said nothing and continued to brush her hair with my heart pounding against my ribcage.

We were interrupted by a knocking at the connecting door. Faith jumped up and ran to answer it, leaving me on the bed feeling rather flustered. As she disappeared into the other room with her brother I sighed, staring out of the window at the park and wondering just what I was getting myself into. I tried for a moment to convince myself that I could stop before it went too far, but I knew I had no such power. I was utterly in Faith's thrall, and I intended to let happen what would happen, whatever that might be.

---

When we were in company, Faith became a different girl entirely. Gone were the little glimpses of the womanhood which was trying to burst out from within: the flirtation, the teasing, the barely held-in-check libido. She was smart enough to know that letting anyone see how she behaved behind closed doors was not a good idea, and in my more cynical moments I was thankful for it; if she was behaving discreetly now, I could almost certainly rely on her to continue doing so.

Daytime in the park was fun, if freezing. The rain held off, the skies were clear, and a pale sun didn't warm us at all. We found ourselves opting more and more frequently for indoor attractions, and I couldn't help thinking it would be more fun in the warmth of summer. But the preparations for Christmas were amazing, and that's what made the holiday for us.

The decorations and the parades were something out of a dream world, and even a cynical old man like me became wrapped up in it; the kids even more so. We ate and drank seasonal fare from around the world, and as dusk fell the park came alive with colour. By the end of the first day we were all thoroughly exhausted, and there were two more days to come yet, and half the park still to explore.

We ate early, so that Chrissie - who was falling asleep at the dinner table - could be taken up to bed. David, who was usually more energetic than about any twelve year old I'd ever met, was yawning at the table, and Jen decided he ought to get an early night; he didn't even protest. Which left me and Faith, who, unlike her older brother, was still very much awake. I wasn't quite ready to head up to the room either, and so we decided to head out into the park again and take a walk amongst the decorations.

Faith, however, decided that she wasn't properly dressed for such an outing, and so we returned to the room briefly so that she could pick out a proper outfit; did I mention she was getting more adult every day? I was forced to wait outside while she disappeared within for more than twenty minutes.

When she emerged, though, I was glad for each and every one of those minutes, and would have waited twice or thrice as long. Gone was my ten year old niece, replaced instead by a stunningly attractive young lady in calf length black leather boots, skin-tight faded and ripped jeans, a top with a neckline which would have been almost indecent, had she had anything to hide, a cashmere scarf and her new black overcoat. I recognised each individual item as something I had bought her, but seeing it all together on her slender young frame my breath was taken away.

"OK, I'm ready," she said with a megawatt smile.

"You sure are," I breathed, and she beamed at the compliment.

"Do I look OK, uncle Zack?"

"You look incredible, Faith. Stunning."

Her cheeks coloured, but the smile only widened. I took her hand in mine and walked my beautiful niece out into the park.

---

The park was full of light, and yet equally full of shadow. We walked along the avenues which were still open - a lot of it was shut - and took it all in. Hardly a word was spoken, but her gloved hand never left mine, and I floated along on cloud nine. At one point we found ourselves at the top of a short hill, in a place where there were no lights, looking out over the sea of colour below. A row of benches ran along a low wall, and we sat for a moment, taking it all in. Faith leaned into me and sighed her contentment, and I put my arm around her.

The tension between us was palpable, and I could feel Faith occasionally shudder. It might have been the cold, but it felt much more like nerves. I glanced down at her at the very moment she looked up at me, and our eyes locked. I couldn't read her expression, but I didn't need to see her face to tell what she was thinking - I was thinking the same thing. She sat more upright as I bent my head. My hand came up to hold the side of her face, gently cradling it as I leaned forward. Her eyes drifted shut and she surrendered to me.

Our kiss was brief, but the most electrifying I have ever felt. Her soft, warm lips felt like silk against my own. She gave a contented moan, and when we parted her breaths came in short gasps, little clouds of vapour marking each exhalation.

"It's getting cold out here," I said, not quite believing that I was making such a suggestive statement to a ten year old girl. "Perhaps we should head back to the room."

Her lips still slightly parted, she stared at me and nodded her head ever so slightly.

---

She disappeared into the bathroom to change - no need for me to wait outside in the freezing cold this time. I slipped quickly into my shorts when she was gone. I didn't want this to be delayed any longer than it had to be. I sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for her, not quite sure what to do with myself. Glancing down, I could see my pulse beating in my wrist. It was no surprise, since I could hear it thundering in my head, too. My heart hammered against my ribcage. It knew the game was afoot, just as much as my manhood did - overcome with excitement, it stayed dormant, unable to process the bombardment of desire into one, single, useful action.

When she emerged she wore a short t-shirt, which barely reached down below her navel, and pastel yellow cotton knickers. She came to stand between my legs, looking down at me, and bent her head for a kiss - it was little effort given the difference in our heights. It was the behaviour of an adult, gleaned no doubt from a movie; as with all of her advances, it had the practised air of the theatrical.

This kiss may well have lacked the pure electrical spark we had experienced on the bench, but unburdened as it was of the expectation of our first kiss, it was replaced with an open and unfettered passion. She moaned into my mouth as my hands came up to cup her firm bottom. It flexed and hardened beneath my touch, separated from my questing fingers by a soft, thin layer of cotton. It felt cool to the touch, too - we'd been outside for too long!

She pushed my shoulders back, breaking the kiss. I let myself fall back across the bed and she climbed up, kneeling astride my lap. She towered over me, staring down with unconcealed lust in her eyes. I studied her as she panted, pausing I imagined to give herself the chance to back out. Her tight t-shirt was chosen to arouse, showing her hardened, undeveloped nipples pressing against their constraining layer of cotton. Further down, her pubis bulged alluringly in her briefs, which clung snugly to it, throwing into relief the valley which dived down between her legs. Oh God, how I wanted to rips those pants off her and dive in with my mouth, kissing, licking, sucking, probing at every orifice, making her cry out with pleasure so intense it felt like pain. But I could not - she needed to do this at her pace or not at all.

She looked down and grinned - there in my lap, quite unbeknownst to me, my manhood had woken from its confused daze and was tugging up at the loose material of my shorts, making a tent which suddenly seemed obscene and out of place against the frail creature which hovered above.

"Did I do that?" she whispered, unable to keep the hint of awe from her voice.

"Of course you did, sexy," I replied with a smile. She blushed at my words, but looked pleased with herself. She dropped down, sitting on my upper legs, her hands resting on her thighs, observing the lump. It responded to the attention, twitching and pulsing with my heartbeat.

"It's alive!" she giggled, and then said, "Can I touch it?"

I looked straight into her eyes. There was excitement at the new experience, and no little lust, and a tinge of nervousness. I could see her shaking a little, from fear or excitement I could not tell. A mix of both, perhaps. I knew she wanted this, that she had thought about it and maybe even planned it all out. I shouldn't have nodded, not really, not in the cold light of day. But I did, and enthusiastically so, because at that very moment it seemed like the best idea ever conceived.

She reached down tentatively, wrapping the material around the lump beneath, encasing me in a warm, firm grip. She held it for a moment, not sure what to do. I could feel her hands shaking.

"Take it out, sweetie," I said, and she did so, releasing me to pull at the fly of my boxers, opening it so she could reach a hand in and pull free my turgid shaft. It came out glistening at its tip, and as her fingers finally grasped it skin-to-skin I groaned, it flexed, and a viscous dribble of lubricant pulsed out and across her knuckles.

"Is that your sperm? Did you have an orgasm?!" she exclaimed, lifting her hand to look at the glistening fluid, leaving a string connecting our bodies.

"No, that's something which comes out before, when I'm excited."

"What, every time you get excited about something?"

"No, not every time," I replied. "Just when I'm sexually excited."

"Oh, you mean when you're horny? Did I make you horny?"

She said the last with a sly grin, her hand returning to grab my shaft, squeezing gently and pulling up so my foreskin bunched beyond the very tip, more precum gathering there and dripping down over her grasping digits. I groaned at the exquisite sensation, closing my eyes and grasping the sheets in an attempt to stave off the inevitable eruption. She reversed the motion, pulling down on the loose skin of my shaft, watching as the head of my manhood emerged, deep purple and glistening with a sheen of silky lubricant.

"It's so hard, but it's really soft, too," she said, her voice reflecting her fascination. "I didn't think it would feel like this. And it's so warm, too."

"It's full of blood, that's why."

"It's meant to go in here, isn't it?" she asked, leaning back a little and hunching her hips forward to show her pubis, outlined beautifully in her snug briefs, pointing a finger at the very centre of her sex. I could only imagine how tiny and tight the entrance to her vagina might be.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure that's a good idea just yet. You might be a bit small."

She shrugged.

"My finger goes in OK. You wanna see?"

I nodded, unable to speak because at that very moment my throat was occupied by my heart. She climbed off my legs and hopped up onto the bed, moving to her side and propping her pillows up against the headboard. She leaned back on them, then lifted her legs high into the air. I rolled onto my stomach to watch, my leaking manhood wetting the sheets beneath me. With her feet still pointing skyward she pulled her pants down and off, sending them arcing onto the floor several metres from the bed with a flick of her left foot. She remained in that position, looking down at herself as I drank in the sight of her immature quim.

And what a sight it was. Completely devoid of hair at her age, its plump lips squeezed together by her thighs, its soft skin glowing pinkly in the weak light of the bedside reading lamp. She allowed her legs to part, though only slightly, and her lips went with them, pulled apart to reveal a firm ridge of flesh leading to an already full clitoris, and beneath that a glistening, coral pink track leading down to the indentation which hid her most private entrance. Her finger traced the outline of her lips a moment - was she teasing herself slightly, or was she just nervous? When she pressed into the delicate folds she did so from the top, pressing her finger in along the length of her cleft, wriggling it ever so gently as she went, causing her hips to jerk with the sudden, intense pleasure of self stimulation. She backed up a moment, passing across the tight button of her clit, pressing it gently against the pubic bone beneath, unable to stifle a moan as pleasure radiated through her body, making her legs quiver and her neck and face blush crimson.

When she pressed her middle finger down once more she did not stop, pushing the tip into the indentation at the base of her cleft. I watched, fascinated, as she slowed her movement, but kept pressing down until half of her finger was hidden. She pulled back, the tight lip of skin around the entrance to her hole pulled taut by the invading digit. Her finger came out wet, skin darkened by her lubrication. I hunched into the sheet, feeling my release growing near, but desperate to see more before the inevitable guilt stopped me.

"See?" she said with a triumphant smile as she pressed the finger back in, this time going past the thick knob of her second knuckle, forging ever inward until her fist bumped against her sex.

She pulled back again, the ring of muscle at her entrance clinging tightly to the thickest knuckle before releasing the invader, and then back in again, and suddenly here I was watching her masturbating in front of me, pleasuring herself on the finger plunging in and out of her immature hole. Her eyes closed and hear head rolled to the side, mouth hanging slack, her breath coming in short gasps. I lifted up onto my knees and pulled off my shorts, grabbing myself, determined to enjoy the scene to its fullest.

As she grew ever more excited, Faith's feet fell onto the bed, knees still bent as her finger now pistoned in and out in a blur, making a depraved squelch each time it rammed home. Her juices flowed freely now, her excitement building to fever pitch; they dribbled out and down across the tight, pink pucker of her anus and onto the sheet below. Her orgasm hit like a freight train - very sudden and very hard, her hips flying up and bouncing around in the air, her finger pressed hard and deep, the tendons on her arm standing out starkly as the digit buried in her snatch writhed around, adding to her pleasure as it pushed against the mass of her clitoris from inside.

I came hard, releasing my passion with a load groan, spitting and spitting into the shorts I had sacrificed, soaking them through with my passion. Spent, I dropped onto my heels, panting hard. Faith had rolled onto her side away from me, her body still shuddering with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her skin was mottled red and white all over, the impact of her pleasure on her young, lithe body all too clear. I dropped the soiled shorts off the side of the bed and fell down beside her, hugging her from behind, feeling her body shake. It had been too much for her and she was all but delirious from the intensity of the pleasure she had felt. I doubted this was her first orgasm, but I was willing to bet it was the strongest she'd ever experienced.

"Sorry," she whispered at last, when the tension finally left her. "I didn't mean to, but I couldn't stop."

"It's OK," I breather into her ear. "No, actually, it's more than OK. That was the sexiest thing I have ever seen in my whole life."

"Yeah, right," she said, the corner of her mouth curling in a wry smile.

"No, I'm serious, sweetheart. I'm still hard, and that never happens."

"Yeah," she giggled, "I can feel it on my back. Is it OK if we don't go all the way tonight, though? I'm really sleepy now."
I squeezed her to me.

"Faith, we don't have to go all the way at all if you don't want to."

"Oh, I want to!" she said quickly. "Just... maybe tomorrow, OK?"

"Of course, my angel," I whispered into her ear, kissing her neck. She turned to me slightly, twisting her head to kiss me on the lips, a soft, chaste kiss of love not lust.

"'Night," she said, and turned away from me once more. I held her until she felt asleep, tortured by the feeling of my half hard manhood pressed into the naked skin of her buttocks.

A second release allowed me to finally drift into welcome sleep, a sleep peppered by dreams of Faith's immature sex stretched wide by the shaft of my manhood.

---

I woke as the bed shifted. Faith was in the process of standing up, slipping her briefs over her slim hips in a manner which reminded me of a certain scene in the film Leon. She glanced over her shoulder at me, giving me a sly grin before walking to the connecting door and opening it.

"Why are you only in your pants?" I heard her mother ask in shock. Adrenaline flooded my body - were we about to be discovered? Faith, though, was far cooler than I.

"It's OK, mum, I just went for a wee and didn't put my pyjama bottoms back on when you knocked. Anyway, uncle Zack's still asleep. There's no way I would let him see me like this!" she exclaimed with a giggle. God, she was a good liar, a superb actress.

"Well, OK I suppose," Jen said. "Have a shower and get dressed, and wake up your uncle. We're going down to breakfast. Chrissie has been up for a couple of hours already and I think she's about to gnaw her own arm off."

"OK, mum, see you soon."

I heard the door shut with a soft snick, and suddenly a ten year old girl landed on top of me.

"Wake up sleepy!" she said. "Mum and the others have gone down to breakfast already. I'm really hungry, too. I'm going to shower."

I rolled over in time to see her strip naked in the middle of the room before she wandered into the bathroom. I admired her slender figure as she went, her plump mound in front matched by her round bottom at the back, both sensuous curves I wanted to explore with finger, tongue, manhood. Her hips flared not one bit, her body still boyish apart from the slightest swelling of her nipples. Jen's breasts had grown to the size of half lemons before she showed any sign of development down below, and it looked like her daughter would be the same. I wondered idly how much pleasure I might be able to give Faith if I could get my lips on those nascent mounds.

I climbed out of bed, stretching languidly. I'd slept well, very well in fact. Naked, I padded into the bathroom after Faith. She was just finishing on the toilet, and her eyes went wide at the sight of me wandering in with my morning stiffness waving around at her head height. She grinned and reached out a hand to wrap around it as I approached.
 
"Will your sperm come out if I play with it?" she asked.

"I'd really love you to do that, sweetheart, but I need a wee really badly and I don't think I can do it until I've had a wee. And we need to have a shower and get down to breakfast."

"Oh, fine!" she said with mock seriousness. "But you have to let me do it later, OK?"

Who could refuse a demand like that? I managed to deflate myself enough to satisfy the needs of my bladder, then stepped into the shower with her. She squeaked in surprise when I joined her, then laughed.

"You have to wash me, then," she said, still laughing.

"Of course. All over?"

"All over," she whispered in reply, the fear and lust in her eyes making my pulse race.

I squeezed a healthy pool of my shower gel into my hands and went to work, washing her torso and arms first, tickling her until she threatened to wee, even though she'd just been. Her legs, too, were a sensitive enough to send her into fits of giggles, but as I worked my hands past her knees and slowly up her thighs she became deadly serious, staring down at what I was doing.

"Everywhere?" I asked, just to make sure, and she nodded enthusiastically.

Still she watched as my hands reached her groin, one cupping her smooth mound and the other going to her crack. I washed both delicately, feeling the soap-slippery lips of her pubis caressing one set of fingertips, and the tight ring of her anus gliding over the others. Her eyes remained riveted on my hands throughout, even as her clit swelled and became a hard little pebble beneath my touch. How I wanted to take her to the bed now and ravish her, but time was not on our side. When I pulled my hands away she groaned in frustration, pressing her hands to her crotch and shivering at the pleasure it brought her.

When she moved to touch my aching shaft I almost relented and let her at it, but in the end I managed to resist, masochistically forcing myself to hold off for the day and enjoy our pleasure in the evening. Faith was more than a little put out with me, and as we dressed and walked down to breakfast she hardly said a word.

---

Her sour mood didn't last for long - by the time we were out in the park she had forgotten all about my refusal to play that morning. It was night and day with her, Jekyll and Hyde. Up in our room she was obsessed with this new pleasure she was discovering. She wanted it constantly, and seemed eager to take it all the way. Out in the park, in the pale, weak sunshine of a winter day she was entirely different: an innocent, playful ten year old one more, with no sign that a sexual beast lurked within. I reflected that that was probably true of most kids that age; I certainly recognised it in myself in memories of my youth. I was obsessed with sex and the idea of getting off from a very young age, and yet those activities were confined to certain times - night-time, or those occasions where I was out of the sight of adults. When the conditions were not right, the thought of sex rarely entered my mind.

Faith seemed the same - in our room she was rapidly becoming a little nymphomaniac, constantly teasing me and keen to try anything. Her admission that she was willing to let me try getting into her the night before was a sure sign of that. She had seemed almost angry that I hadn't let her wank me off that morning, too, as if it was an insult to her womanliness. I might have tried to argue with her rationale, but it wouldn't have ended well. But she was, as I say, becoming obsessed with sex in private, whilst publicly showing no sign that it ever crossed her mind.

She played her part very well that day - not too much contact with me, but not too little either. Just the right amount, calculated to prevent suspicion. She was smarter than I at playing the game, too. I, for example, was quickly caught staring at her.

"She's becoming quite a pretty little thing, isn't she?" Jen said with a smile.

We were sitting having a break and a hot mulled wine as the kids got stuck into a craft stall across the way. I felt my skin prickling as I blushed deeply. I hoped to hell that she had no idea what was going through my mind as I looked at her daughter.

"You know, I think I was right about her having a crush on you," she continued, as I squirmed in my seat. "Just be careful, please. Let her down gently, yeah? Tell her how wonderful she is. Make it up if you have to."

I almost choked on my wine.

"I don't have to, Jen," I said, aware that I was skating on very thin ice, but somehow feeling the need to take the risk. "She is wonderful, and you're right, she's very pretty."

Jen didn't respond, just looked over to where the kids were playing. She was silent, staring at them with a strange half smile on her face.

"Zack," she said at last, her voice breaking a bit. "I think I might be in trouble. That job I got isn't going to last, I've got masses of debt and now Tony's refusing to pay child support. I don't think I can last much longer."

I took her hand in mine and made her look at me.

"It's OK, sis, we can sort it out. I've been thinking I might start again, start a new company," I lied. "You were great when you helped me out a few years ago. My clients never stopped talking about you. Do you think you would be interested in joining in?"

She looked at me searchingly.

"That is the biggest load of bollocks I've heard in a long time, Zachary."

I couldn't help laughing.

"OK, fine. But I do need to do something. I'll go mad if I sit at home. There are loads of opportunities up your end of the country, and I wasn't lying about how much the clients liked you."

"It's a lovely offer, but I'm not sure my ego would take working for you."

"You wouldn't be working for me, you'd be working with me. Sales director. Partner in the firm, that sort of thing."

"But I don't have anything to invest, Zack, and I don't really know your business."

"You don't need to invest. You can pay me back later, out of your share of the profits."

"But surely you don't want to move all the way up to Newcastle?"

I shrugged.

"Why not? There's nothing really tying me down in Suffolk, not now. I'll make a killing selling that house, and the money's all mine. The bitch didn't get a piece of the house because I owned it before we met and she never paid a penny towards it. I reckon I could clear a few hundred grand in equity given the way the market's gone since I moved there. That'll buy me a nice place near you guys. And that way I get to be in the kids' lives for longer. Who knows, I might even meet someone new up there."

In my head I congratulated myself for the diversion, though the ploy was hardly Machiavellian. It didn't need to be, though - all it needed to do was hide the fact I was already having sex with Jen's daughter.

"Well, I'll think about it," Jen said at last, looking a little brighter. "Thanks, Zack. I've been really worried."

"It's nothing, sis. And even if we don't start a business, I'll clear those debts, yes? It's not your fault you're going under, and I have the capital right now. I won't take no for an answer."

---

The door clicked shut and we were alone. I could still hear David and Jen talking in the other room, which made what happened next seem all the more thrillingly illicit. Faith stripped with the gangly, graceless style of a preteen. This wasn't practised, rehearsed, or planned. This was the frantic action of a lust-filled young girl who wanted to get naked as quickly as possible. As silently as I could I locked the door from our side, then shed my own clothes.

A very naked Faith jumped into my equally naked arms, and I stood there holding her up by her soft round buttocks, her thighs either side of my hips and the unsubtle reminder of my desire poking her bottom. She reached a hand back and pushed it further beneath, lifting herself up a little as she did so, until the tip nestled in a warm, slightly damp dimple somewhere between her legs.

"Do you think it will go in OK?" she asked, nerves apparent in her shaking voice.

"I think so, if we're careful," I replied.

"I've been thinking about it all day," she admitted. "I really want to do it with you. What do we have to do?"

"Well, your hole's really tight isn't it?"

"Yeah, kinda. I can hardly get my finger in there sometimes. But it gets easier if I play with it for a bit."

"Then that's what we have to do lots of - making it easier," I said, my breath coming in ragged gasps as adrenaline flooded my system. "It might take a few times to get it all the way in.

I tried to ignore the fact that she was so small it would probably never get all the way in, not until she had grown.

"OK," she said, staring straight into my eyes. "You can do what you want to. Will it hurt?"

"I think it might, a bit," I admitted, cringing inside.

"It's OK, I don't mind if it does," she said, visibly steeling herself. "As long as it's not too much, OK?"

I smiled and leaned in to kiss her, our lips touching softly. She was breathing deeply when I pulled away, her chest rising and falling, pressing into my own. Her legs, still wrapped around my hips, quivered with fear and desire. I lowered her fractionally, letting the tip of my manhood press at the entrance to her body, and her eyelids drooped. She shuddered and made a cute little growling sound in the back of her throat. I leaned in to kiss her, hunching up a little as my lips pressed into hers, enjoying the feeling of her moans reverberating through my mouth.

I walked us over to the bed and threw her down. She landed on her back, her legs spread wide and her reddened sex brazenly displayed. She made no move to cover up, lying with her knees almost touching the bed on both sides. Her pose caused her smooth lips to slowly peel apart, revealing her engorged button and opening her hole just a fraction. I knelt between her legs, running my hands over her chest, pressing her firm nipples against the pads of flesh beneath. I was delighted by the way it made her squirm and lift her hips, pressing her sex into the underside of my shaft, her neediness clear to see.

She lowered her backside back to the bed and brought a hand in to press against her sex, mashing her clit against the bone beneath and then pushing a finger down into her hole. I let her do it - as much as I wanted to tease her and withhold pleasure from her, she needed to be loose if I was to penetrate and no-one would be better than she at knowing how deep and how hard she could go with her fingers. So, I continued to work her nipples, watching the blush spread across her face, down her neck and onto her chest as she grew ever closer to orgasm.

Suddenly she stopped, her eyes flying wide open, staring straight into mine.

"I think I need you to put it in now," she said, seemingly shocked at her own words; she had surprised herself with the strength of her own desire. I would have preferred to loosen her up further, but she didn't look like she would take no for an answer. I smiled down at her, not bothering to ask if she was sure - I already knew the answer.

Her finger slid out, wet with her juices. I grabbed her hand before she could wipe it on the sheet and sucked her digit into my mouth, savouring the rich yet delicate flavour of her juvenile arousal. She wrinkled her nose at my actions, but by God it tasted good, and I offered no excuses. With her lying on her back, legs spread, I lowered myself over her, taking my manhood in hand and guiding the dripping tip to the base of her cleft, where her hole gaped slightly.

"Ready?" I asked, my shaft poised to penetrate.

She nodded, and with permission granted I pressed forward. At first I met nothing but resistance, her sex clamping shut at the prospect of invasion by a thick, adult cock. Little by little, as I pressed and made circles against the resistance, she began to open. Just a fraction at first, just enough to delicately envelope the first half inch. I wasn't inside, not really, just pressing at the door. She scowled at me, concentrating on the sensation of being stretched, pain intermingled with pleasure.

I continued to press forward determinedly, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead as I hovered above. I desperately wanted to suck a nipple as I did so, but couldn't bend my head down far enough. I settled instead for sitting back on my haunches, reapplying the pressure below and taking one of her nascent breasts between thumb and forefinger. She groaned at the sensation, rolling her eyes back into her head and arching her back, desperately pushing her sex against me. Slowly but surely I eased apart the resistance of the ring of muscle at her entrance and found my head entirely encased.

Suddenly she gasped, eyes flying open and tears coming to her eyes. Her thighs shook and her tummy fluttered. Her muscle clamped down around my shaft and her back arched, pushing her hips down further onto me. Then the tension left her and she fell limp, gasping for breath, sweat beading on her brow. She pulled herself up on her elbows and looked down to where we were docked.

"I think..." she started, then stopped to pant for a moment and groan as her stretched hole went into spasm around my invading shaft, "I think I just had one."

"I think so, too," I said, grinning down at her. "Just a little one. Are you OK?"

She nodded, dropping her head back onto the pillow with eyes closed, her breathing becoming more controlled.

"You're looser now, too," I said, pushing another inch or so into her.

"Oh God!" she groaned, her hips flexing involuntarily, taking even more of my shaft. I was less than halfway in, but that was clearly as far as I was going to get. I withdrew and she writhed beneath me, grabbing the pillow to her side and mashing it into her face, screaming into it. I was harder than I've ever been, and seeing her in such agonising pleasure sent me over the edge. I swelled and pulsed, a thick, constant stream of hot semen flooding into her as around the head of my manhood the walls of her vagina pulsed and rippled with an aftershock.

She was panting again, her whole upper body flushed crimson. I let myself deflate before I pulled slowly out of her. She gasped and bit her hand as I slid across her hypersensitive skin, then sighed when I was finally gone. I groaned involuntarily at the sight of her slack hole, pulsing a little, leaking thick globules of my load.

"I think," I said, as I lay down beside her and cuddled her still-shaking form to me, "that you need a nice hot bath and a good long sleep."

She grabbed my arm, pressing it tightly to her chest.

"Yes, please, uncle Zack" she said, very much a little girl once more.

---

We both slept well, woken in the morning by knocking at the door. She opened an eye briefly, then clamped it shut again when she saw I was already going to the door. I unlocked it, hoping her mother hadn't noticed it was secured, and opened the door to see Jen smiling at me.

"You two still in bed, huh?" she asked with a grin. "Come on, it's the last day in the park. Get her out of bed and get down to breakfast. We'll see you there."

I gave her a smile, nodded dutifully and closed the door. Faith was trying to be asleep, so I climbed into bed behind her and snuggled up, my rapidly hardening manhood pressing into her bottom. I wrapped my arms around her, one dipping down to sit lightly against her sex, not pressing in, and the other wrapping around to hold her close to me. I kissed her neck and her ear, and slowly flexed the fingers which lay along her cleft. From my vantage point I could see her nipple hardening and goosebumps appearing on her chest.

Eventually she could feign sleep no longer, growling and groaning as she turned on her back, spreading her legs wide to allow my finger access.

"Don't put it in," she whispered to me, eyes still shut. "It's sore today."

I adhered to her wishes, gently masturbating her with two fingers dipping into her cleft and rocking her clit back and forth across the pubic bone beneath, while with my mouth I finally paid service to her nipples, sucking them into bullet points and laving them with my tongue. She groaned and flexed her hips, her stomach tightening, setting her muscles into stark relief, beautifully showing off her swimmer's physique.

Her orgasm was gentle, a wave washing over her, a gradual process of heightened breathing, shallow gasps, smooth rolls of her hips. She shuddered and shook at its peak, her muscles tensing over and over, until it was too much and she pushed my hands away, curling up into a ball and turning away from me. I watched her for a moment, until she came down enough to uncurl and roll back, smiling at me and stretching languidly, her sex squeezed into a thin line at the juncture of her thighs, her nipples distorted into long ellipses by the arms reaching above her head. She rolled further toward me until she hit my side, and then with a lust-filled grin snaked her hand down my body to grasp my tumescent shaft.

"Payback," she said, as if fondling me in return was some sort of revenge.

She was no expert, but anyone in this position is going to find it remarkably easy to find their peak. Her hot fingers felt so small on my shaft - it's no monster by any stretch of the imagination, but her little digits barely managed to encircle my girth. She wanked me slowly, taking pleasure in watching my excitement build, her gaze focussed on my manhood but occasionally flicking up to observe my face. I watched her hand for as long as I could, but eventually lust took over and my head fell back onto the pillows and I shut my eyes, concentrating on the incredible sensation of her fingers gliding up and down my shaft.

I came when her hot breath washed across my exposed head. I had no idea if she was simply leaning in for a closer look, or whether she intended to lower her lips onto my shaft, but it mattered not. Slender ropes of my semen jetted high into the air, landing with a loud splatter across my chest and stomach, and in one case on the pillow by my head. I didn't think myself capable of such a strong orgasm at my age - it just goes to show what real lust can do to you.

Faith dropped my penis as soon as the last big spasms had passed, leaving it to twitch slightly and ooze out a few remaining droplets onto my stomach. I was absolutely drenched in my own juices, a fact which seemed hilarious to Faith. With her giggles still ringing in my ears I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the shower, catching the odd falling droplet with my hands.

Though she joined me in the shower, it was a purely chaste affair, each of us concentrating on our own cleaning rather than attempting to arouse the other. By now, we were dangerously late for breakfast.

---

I sat on the train speeding across the north of France with a dumb smile on my face and a sleeping girl to my right. Her mother and younger sister were sitting across from us, and her older brother was lying down over two seats across the aisle to our left. I was content, and with Christmas yet to come there was the promise of more time spent with my young, desperately horny niece. Already she had admitted to me that she was keen to try 'putting it in' again the next day, when we could find the time to be alone.

Our final day in the park had passed in a blur, but for one moment when time had stopped, and pleasure became all. She had pulled me away into the shadows of a grotto.

"I found this place before," she whispered into my ear. "Give me your hand."

I prayed there hadn't been time to set up low light cameras in the hastily erected exhibition, and did as she asked. She dragged it down and suddenly I could feel naked skin beneath my fingertips. I gasped in surprise - he jeans and knickers must have been pushed down sometime in the last few seconds, and I had unfettered access to her soft, hairless and damp sex.

"Please, uncle Zack," she said, "Make me have one."

Oh God, yes, girl, I will happily make you have one, I thought. My fingers went to work, pressing into her cleft, finding the over-sensitive bump of her clit and anointing it with lubrication I pulled up from her oozing hole. I rubbed hard and fast, paying no attention to gentle lovemaking, aware that she needed to come, nothing more.

Thank God she was already worked up. Thank God she came quickly, shaking and holding onto my arm as her sex spasmed hard, because with my hand barely gone from her crotch, David came back to find us. How he spotted us in the darkness I wasn't sure, but it certainly made me worried that someone else might have seen Faith and I.

"Come on, lazy!" he said to his sister. "Don't stay here all day."

"Shove off, idiot," she spat back. "I like it here."

"Yeah, well, mum's waiting. Come on."

He scampered off, not waiting for his sister.

"I'm glad it's dark," she said, her face illuminated by the weak green light of a nearby bulb. Suddenly it was obvious why David had been able to find her. "My pants are still round my knees!"

Back on the train, I smiled at the memory, feeling myself harden a little in my jeans. I wondered if there was a chance we might try something on the train, then decided it wasn't worth the risk. No, waiting until we were home would be far safer.

Yes, things were looking up for Faith and I. I let my eyes close and slipped into dreams of her milky-white lips wrapped around my invading fingers.