Niece is Miss September By Beating Off Bob

   Bob Chandler was a happy man, all in all.  He had a good business
selling used books and CDs in a little storefront on the edge of
Centerville's business district.  He had several High School students who
worked for him part time and in reality he didn't have to work much at all
if he didn't want to.  His house was paid for.  He had the car of his
dreams.  But all this was due to the insurance settlement that resulted
from the death of his wife.  That was the down side.  He missed her
terribly.  Theirs had been a perfect match, both in the sense that they
shared lots of interests, and because the sex had been fantastic for both
of them.  They'd spent hours learning how to satisfy each other and had
been trying to get her pregnant when she'd been killed by a drunk driver.

   He'd adjusted, for the most part.  He couldn't abide the thought of
dating after that, and had remained both single and pretty much celibate
since then.  The one time he'd let go had been with his wife's sister,
Coleen.  It had happened about a year after Susan had died and even though
they both knew it was a "pity fuck" it had been extremly enjoyable for both
of them.  The fact that Coleen was married though, made it a one time fling
for them both.  That, and the fact that Coleen's daughter, Chrissy, thought
the sun rose and set on her Uncle Bob's command.  Chrissy hung around Bob's
house daily after her Aunt had been killed.  At twelve, she was young
enough to avoid the true pain of losing a loved one, but old enough to know
that Bob was hurting and want to make him feel better.  So she'd sort of
adopted him for a while, fixing him breakfast sometimes, getting him to
take her places, convincing him to sponsor her soccer team, and other
things that put him back into a normal life.  In the five years since,
she'd become like the daughter he'd never had.

   Bob had to make do with beating off.  He didn't mind, really.  Playpen
was his favorite beat-off magazine, and he always took a copy home when
they were delivered.  He'd been embarrassed about it the first few times
Chrissy had seen him with it, but she never said anything so he pretended
like it didn't matter.

   Bob looked up from his ruminations as the bell over the door of the shop
tinkled.  As fate would have it, it was Chrissy, coming to work.  He gazed
at her youthful form, slim, not too busty, with long blond hair she almost
always wore in a pony tail.  There was some swell to her hips in the last
few years.  He suddenly realized she was a woman now, and not "Little
Chrissy" any more.  With a trace of guilt he thought back to the time she
was sixteen and had taken a shower at his house after a soccer game. 
Without thinking he'd walked into the master bathroom.  She'd turned off
the water and was towling off.  Had the water been running he'd have
remembered she was in there, but it was quiet.  There she was, standing,
feet spread shoulder's width, facing him with both hands up, rubbing a
towel through her hair.  She'd been gorgeous!  And though she wasn't heavy
with feminine flesh, her pert upturned breasts, with those amazingly perky
pink nipples sticking out an inch had stiffened his cock almost instantly.
She'd just smiled and said "Be through in a minute Uncle Bob." like nothing
had happened.  He, on the other hand had blushed and stammered out several
"Sorry" type phrases as he backed out.  He'd had some amazing beat off
sessions after that, remembering the two pouting pussy lips he'd seen
hanging below sparse blone hairs on her mons.  But he'd felt guilty about
dreaming of fucking her brains out and eventually put her out of his mind.
Unless he saw her, of course.  When he saw her he remembered.  Like now. 
She was dressed in jeans and a halter top, and before she even got out "Hi
Uncle Bob" he felt his dick start to fill with blood.

   "Hi peaches" he said.  He was an expert by now in suppressing his desire
to rip her clothes off and sink his dick deep in her pussy.  "Having an
interesting day?"

   "Naw, not much" she said as she moved behind the counter.  "Went
shopping and bought a CD, but that's about all." She approached him and
kissed him on the cheek, like she always did.  Then a brief hug, during
which she pressed her breasts against him ...  like she always did.  "Had
much business today?" she asked as she began to straighten up the desk.

   "One guy came in and bought every Nivens book we had." he said.  "Said
he'd just discovered him and wanted more."

   "Hey, Uncle Bob" she said, turning to face him.  "I'm going to need a
couple of days off.  I've got an interview at Central Tech, over in
Calhoun. I'm thinking about doing their nursing degree." She waited for his
response, looking at him closely.

   "Sure, peaches.  That would be fine." he said, but his heart wasn't in
it.  When she left for college he was sure life would become unbearably
dull."

   The time came, and for two days Bob was up tight, even snapping at one
customer who couldn't remember an author's name and thought that if she
described the picture on the back of one of his books Bob would be able to
recognize him.

   The next day Chrissy came into the store like nothing had happened.  "Hi
Uncle Bob" she said, same as always.  Then the kiss, and the press of her
breasts against him.  Like usual she began to straighten up the desk.  She
picked up a stack of books bob had bought and started toward the shelves,
to put them on display.

   "Well?" Bob demanded.

   "Well what?" said Chrissy with a smile.

   "Don't keep me in suspense" he growled.  "How'd it go?"

   "How'd what go?" she grinned.

   He grabbed for her and began to tickle her.  He often "punished" her by
tickling her.  She went wild whenever he did so, and she did now.  As she
squirmed his hands fluttered across the sides of her breasts.  She squealed
"OK, OK, I'll tell you!" and he stopped, feeling the old familiar
stiffening in his pants begin.  She was panting, and it made her breasts
fill out her blouse nicely.  He noticed two stiff points and realized she
wasn't wearing a bra.

   "It was OK" she said.  "The campus was small.  They don't really have
dorms there, and I'd have to rent someplace off campus to live.  I might
check out State later.  We'll have to see." She took the stack of books and
left for the shelves.

   Life went on.  Three months later, Bob came in and saw Chrissy leafing
through a copy of Playpen Magazine.  Bob stocked a full line of new
magazines, including some adult ones.  "Chrissy, you know you're too young
to be handling those." he said.  There was a State inspector who came
around sometimes, and when he found out Bob hired High Schoolers he began
spouting about how no one under 18 could touch the adult magazines, even to
sell them.  He made a prick of himself for a while, and even sent in some
undercover people to try to buy them from a teenager.  Bob had impressed on
his employees, however, that the store would be closed down if they got
caught.  He'd rather lose a sale than have that happen.  It was Chrissy, in
fact, who had figured out how to beat the system.  A man had come in to buy
a copy of "Blond Buxom Bitches" and Chrissy calmly told him that while she
couldn't touch the magazine, she could take his money.  So he held the mag,
and she rang it up and he left.

   In response to his warning she said simply "OK" and put the magazine
back in the rack.  He thought it was a little odd though.  He went into the
back room to make himself a cup of coffee.  He had what amounted to an
apartment in the back of the store.  There was a small kitchen, and a couch
that doubled as a bed when he wanted to take a nap.  The bathroom was back
there too.  That couch was where he and Chrissy's mother had let their
feelings go.  He stared at the couch, remembering Coleen lying back on it,
breasts heaving, legs open, her red hair disheveled and her arms reaching
for him.  Her welcome was real too.  He knew this when he dropped his pants
and she saw his erection for the first time.  Her eyes had widened and
she'd licked her lips.  He was long.  He was REALLY long.  While he didn't
really have anyone to compare himself too, according to his wife, and then
Coleen, he was much longer than normal.  But Coleen had welcomed him
anyway, and had sighed happily when he'd plumbed her depths with that spear
of love.  And when it went off she'd demanded that he leave it in her, so
he knew she offered herself out of love.  It had been very good ...  for
both of them.

   Another month went by and school started.  Chrissy was a Senior this
year, but she was smart enough that school wasn't much of a contest for
her. She continued to work in the store.  It was on a Saturday in September
that his world was shaken.  He and Chrissy were working when a man came in.
He selected a book and when he brought it to the counter he began staring
at Chrissy.  That wasn't all that unusual.  She was beautiful, after all.
But this man's scrutiny was intense.  "You know" he said.  "You look just
like the centerfold in this month's Playpen." Then his eyes widened, as he
realized what he'd just said ...  to an obvious teenager ...  while her
boss looked on.  "Oh gosh, miss!  I'm sorry.  I't just that ...  well, the
resemblance is ...  oh, never mind ..  I'm sorry." He was so flustered that
he paid for his book with a ten dollar bill and left without getting his
change.  Chrissy just giggled.  Bob thought that was odd too.  But what the
man had said stuck in his mind, and on his way out that night, he grabbed a
copy of Playpen to take home with him.

   He had in mind to have a nice slow beat off session.  While Bob had
convinced himself to try not to think of Chrissy when he masturbated, he
was also resigned to the fact that he usually thought of her as his semen
spurted.  So, if Miss September looked a little like Chrissy, so much the
better.

   He stripped off his clothes, lay on the bed, and opened the magazine. 
It flopped open and there, before his disbelieving eyes, was his niece. 
Oh, Miss September had black hair, true, but it was a wig, becuse the rest
of the girl was Chrissy.  True, the girl looked like she was about
twenty-two or three, what with the makeup, and the lighting, the librarian
glasses and such, but it was Chrissy.  There, before his eyes were the same
upturned breasts he'd seen a year or so ago, with those same delectable
perky pink nipples.  She was squeezing and caressing them in the pictures,
obviously pleasuring herself.  He couldn't prove it was Chrissy by the
pubic hair, because Miss September simply didn't have any.  She was bald as
a baby's butt.  She did, however, have two plump tasty looking labia
protruding, and in several poses those lips gaped apart, as if they were
waiting for something to spread them further on its way into her pussy. 
Those pussy lips were fat and swollen, darker than he thought they should
be - she was excited.  And in all the photos her eyes bore straight into
the observer's, as if to say "Here I am, all for you." And it WAS Chrissy.
He was sure.

   But it couldn't be.  She was too young for one thing.  It had to be
illegal for a magazine to publish pictures of a seventeen year old girl. 
And there was another problem.  One of the pictures, the last one in the
spread, showed her lying back on some pillows, arms out, knees up and
spread, and there was something thick and white pooled in those open pussy
lips.  It was obvious this girl had just been fucked.  Chrissy wouldn't
have done that.  In fact she didn't even date!  He was quite sure his
Chrissy was a virgin.

   But it looked like her.  It WAS her.  He knew those eyes, those lips,
that smile...  and yes, even those nipples.  He realized his hand was
wrapped firmly around his aching prick.  He stroked and looked at Miss
September.  As his semen blasted out, he stared at the cum pooling in the
mouth of Chrissy's pussy.  He hadn't cum this hard since he'd cum in her
mom.

   He didn't see her for three more days.  She came in after school. 
Everything was the same.  Same "Hi Uncle Bob".  Same kiss.  Same hug.  Same
erection.  He had to know.

   "Um ..  peaches?  I need to talk to you." he said.

   "Bout what?" she said.  She was straightening things again.

   "About what that man said last week.  About Playpen." he said.

   Chrissy turned and looked at him with a level stare.  "Did you look in
the magazine?" she said.

   He nodded.

   She turned, walked to the door, turned the lock and then flipped the
sign over from 'Open' to 'Closed'.  Then, without a word, she took his hand
and led him to the back room.  He followed, knowing that something strange
was going on, because she hadn't denied it.  She pushed him down on the
couch and stood in front of him.  "What do you want to know?"

   This was all too strange.  He watched, dumstruck as she unbuttoned the
top button of her shirt.  "Why?" he said.

   She unbuttoned the second button.  "For you" she said softly.

   "For me." he repeated.

   Now there was only one button left.  The skin that was showing made it
obvious she wasn't wearing a bra.  "Remember when you walked in on me in
the bathroom?" she said.  He nodded and she went on.  "The look on your
face was something I've never forgotten.  You made me feel so special, just
by the way you looked at me.  It made me all tingly inside.  When you left
I had to ...  touch myself.  No one has EVER made me feel that special."

   "You touched yourself?" he said dumbly.

   She shed the blouse and stood naked, except for her jeans and shoes. 
There were her magnificent perky breasts, with their wonderful
tasty-looking nipples.  She pinched them.  "Yes, I had to.  I felt so sexy.
You had this huge lump in your pants, and I knew it was because of me.  I
knew you wanted me.  I knew you wanted to ...  fuck me." She squeezed her
nipple with one hand while the other one went to the snap of her jeans.

   "No" he said, trying to deny what he felt.

   "Yes" she said, as she pulled the zipper down on her jeans.  She kicked
off her shoes and began to slid the jeans down.  "Just like now, Uncle Bob.
You're hard now Uncle Bob ...  aren't you?" She pushed her panties down
with her jeans.  His eyes darted to her exposed flesh.  No pubic hair. 
"But you wouldn't see me as a woman, Uncle Bob" she went on, stepping out
of the jeans.  She dropped them and stood, gloriously naked in front of
him, hands on hips.  "So I had to arrange it for you to see me as a woman
...  in Playpen."

   His mouth was dry.  He licked his lips.  Unconciously he arranged his
meat to a more comfortable position.  "But you're too young." he said.

   "I gave them a fake birth certificate" she said, taking a step toward
him.  "I wanted you to see me as a woman, because you make me FEEL like a
woman." She came closer.

   "BBBBBut you're my niece!" he stammered.

   "I don't care" she said.  She leaned down and kissed her Uncle.  He was
immediately lost in that kiss.  He hadn't been kissed with that much
passion for many many years.  He felt her hands at his clothing, felt her
standing him up, felt his clothing begin to fall off of his body.  She
broke the kiss, panting.  "I want you to MAKE me a woman Uncle Bob." she
gasped.

   He thought about the picture with her pussy full of spooge.  "But the
pictures ...  the one where you'd just been ....  there was sperm in your
..."

   She kissed him again, pressing her breasts to his naked chest.  When she
pulled back she said "Hand lotion.  It was my idea.  I wanted you to see me
that way ...  to think of me that way ...  to want me that way.  I've never
...  done it.  I want you to be my first."

   There were more kisses, of course, but by now Bob had left behind any
and all objections.  He was captivated by this winsome woman.  He knew she
was too young to embark on this path, but he had to have her.  Her whimper
as his rock hard penis penetrated her for the first time reminded him of
her inexperience.  Ten minutes later she whimpered for another reason as
her first penis-induced orgasm flowed through her like maverick elecrical
pulses.  She lay beneath him on the couch, spread eagerly for him as he
rodded her with his long prong.  She whispered "Yes" over and over again,
wanting him like her mother had.  He knew he shouldn't cum in her, knew
somehow that she wasn't on the pill.  But the urge to push into her
innermost secret place was too strong.  Once the tip of his cock mashed
into her cervix he knew all he had to do was alter the angle a little and,
as the first pulse of his seed spat out of his prick, he slipped it into
her womb.  He let the next four spurts paint that cave as he kissed her. 
Chrissy, for her part, flopped like a rag doll.  She got way more than she
bargained for.  And what she got made her VERY happy.

   They spent the next two hours making love.  She wanted to try his prick
in every position.  She confirmed that she was unprotected, but demanded
that he put his sperm where it was intended to go.  He asked her about
nursing school, but she said that was an excuse to go and have the photo
shoot.  She said she wanted to stay here and have his babies.  All these
things were said as he pumped more and more of his baby batter into her
nubile young body.

   As they lay, finally spent, exhausted, he sighed.  "They're beautiful
dreams, peaches, but your mother isn't likely to see things like you do. 
We can't keep doing this."

   She giggled.  "I told my mom about you walking in on me.  I told her how
it made me feel.  She told me how you made HER feel.  Whose idea do you
think it was to do the Playpen spread?"
   He managed to put another cup of sperm in her after all.


  
His niece is Miss September