
                            Sweet Torment
                             by NyteMyst

                                  ***

Copyright 2000 by NyteMyst.  All rights reserved.
This story may not be reproduced in any form without explicit
permission from the author.  The author reserves exclusive rights to
post this story on usenet.  Permission is granted for you to make and
keep one (1) electronic copy for your personal use as long as this
notice is retained, unchanged, as a part of this document.  No other
archiving, commercial or otherwise, is permitted.

Published with permission from the author by TYGER.

                                  ***


Chapter 1


Oh, God but she was beautiful.  Not simply pretty...nor merely cute
(though she was undeniably both of these), but honest-to-goodness,
hands down, knock-your-socks-off perfectly and achingly beautiful.

"Jo," whispered Alan to himself, savoring the sound of her name upon
his lips.  He was watching her from the front window of his trailer
as she played with his kitten, Pepper, out on the narrow strip of
lawn.  She had dressed in a pair of tight white shorts that barely
extended below the gentle curve of her bottom and, as she bent to
tease the little cat, he found himself transfixed by the sleek, tan
columns of her pretty legs and the delectable crevice that was formed
between the firm cheeks of her derriere.

Angry with himself for the thoughts he had been having he turned away
quickly from the window and sat down at the little do-it-yourself
breakfast nook where he had been attempting to balance his checkbook.
He tried to return to his figures, but images of his niece's slender
form kept swimming before his eyes and, when an arpeggio tinkle of
girlish laughter came from outside the window he pushed his pile of
papers away and sat with his face buried in his hands.  It was
hopeless, he thought.  He was never going to be able to manage the
whole situation if he couldn't stop thinking about the girl this way.

When he had been asked to take care of Jo for the remainder of the
summer he had known that it would be a difficult responsibility.  He
lived alone, after all and she, not yet thirteen was, by all family
accounts, something of a handful.  He had thought that he could
manage the task if he set is mind to it, but what he'd not been
prepared for was the disturbing thoughts and images that had plagued
him almost since the gorgeous young adolescent had first darkened his
door.  It was a terrible situation he had gotten himself into and he
really didn't know how he could deal with it.

If he wanted to, though he understandably rarely did so, Alan could
recall the day of his sister's death with perfect, hideous clarity.
The news had come, one depressingly gloomy day in December ten years
earlier, that a car crash had taken the lives of Samantha, his
twenty-two year old sister, and Jim, her accountant husband of three
years.  The pair had been returning from a visit to friends and they
were just approaching a blind knoll when a pickup truck, occupied by
three very drunken teenage boys, flew over the crest of the hill in
the wrong lane.  The awful crash had resulted in little more than
minor cuts and scratches to the three teenagers, but it quickly, and
bloodily, snuffed out the lives of the unfortunate young married
couple.

It was nothing short of miraculous that Jo, then only two years old,
had not been with them.  She had shown signs of fever that morning so
Samantha had left her with a sitter, thus narrowly preventing her
from becoming a third, tragic statistic.  After the dust of the
accident had settled, so to speak, Jo was placed with Tom and Mildred
Palmer, her paternal grandparents, who had raised her, as their own,
in their pleasant chicken farm upstate.

The grandparents had both been in good health when Jo first came to
live with them, but over the years Tom's heart had started giving him
problems and, when he had suffered his third coronary attack, it was
decided that a bypass operation was needed.  As Mildred would have
her hands full coping with Tom's recovery, the situation with Jo
presented something of a problem, so they turned to Alan for help.

"It's only until school starts," they had assured him.  "And, if you
need anything at all, you can call on us for help."

He had agreed to the responsibility, of course, and he had quickly
removed the piles of boxes from his spare bedroom and stocked his
fridge and freezer with foods he thought a twelve year old might
like.  He was a little anxious about the situation in the period
before her arrival, but he reflected that it would only be for a
little over two months and he was reasonably confident that he would
be able to manage.  His work as an editor of technical manuals was
mostly done from his home and he had arranged for a neighbor woman to
keep an eye on the girl when he had to be away.

When Jo had arrived the previous evening, he had been completely
taken aback by what a lovely young girl she had become.  It had been
almost three years since he had last seen her and he could barely
recognize the tomboyish little girl she had been in the startlingly
pretty adolescent he now saw before him.  The transformation was
nothing short of amazing and it was easy to see that she would
develop into a very beautiful woman.

Mildred, who had driven Jo down from the farm, stayed only briefly
after getting Jo settled into her new quarters.  She had provided
Alan with the phone number for the hospital where Tom was having his
operation and then, after making him promise to call if he needed
anything at all, she said her good-byes and drove away.  It was only
then, after Alan was alone with his pretty niece, that he began to
realize that some of the thoughts he was having were of a type that
an adult uncle ought not to have for the adolescent daughter of his
dead sister.

Alan's reverie at the breakfast nook was suddenly broken by the
rattle of the screen door leading outside.  He raised his head up and
saw Jo standing in the doorway.

"I got scratched," she announced.  She held her hand up for him to
inspect and he was able to see a narrow red line with a little bead
of blood forming at one end.

"Oh dear," he replied getting up from the table.  "What happened,
sweetie?"

"The kitty did it," she informed him.  "I don't think it meant to,
though."

"Oh, I'm sure not," he agreed.  "But let's have a look at it anyway."

"It doesn't really hurt that bad," said Jo, smiling bravely at him.

"Well, that's good dear," he said.  "But we really ought to wash it
though."  He waved her over to the sink and she crossed the room
toward him with that quiet, feline grace that seems to be the
exclusive province of adolescent girls.  She held her arm up for him
and he grasped her wrist gently and positioned it under the tap.  As
the water flowed down and over the wound, he suddenly became
intensely aware of her closeness and he looked down at her as she
watched the blood wash away, marveling once again at her beauty.  Her
hair, which from a distance seemed a homogenous dark brown, was
actually shot through with lighter strands that shone prettily where
the light struck them and, though it had been cut into a pageboy
sometime ago, it was now beginning to grow out to curl delightfully
over the nape of her neck and her shoulders.

Over the sexy little shorts she had donned that morning, Jo was
wearing a simple light blue blouse that she had turned up and knotted
just below her ribs, leaving her midriff enticingly bare.  From his
vantage point, Alan was able to see the front of the tight fabric
swell out beneath the gentle thrust of her breasts.  They were
clearly too small to need a bra just yet, but the promise of
burgeoning puberty was plainly perceptible in the lovely curves.  For
the hundredth time that morning, Alan wondered what they might look
like without the blouse and then, when he realized he was staring, he
looked away hurriedly and cursed himself yet again.

"There," he said, with a forced lightness.  "All better.  Do you want
a Band-aid or anything?"

"Oh no," she answered, smiling sweetly at him.  "I'll be fine."

In the days that followed, Alan's thoughts about his niece seemed to
come more frequently and with increasing lasciviousness.  A dozen
times a day he caught himself wondering what color her panties might
be, and how she might look standing before him in only her underwear.
He tried to prevent himself from having such thoughts but it was a
fruitless effort and at odd times he found himself with an aching
erection as he attempted to visualize her sleek young body with
nothing on.  He never expected these vague imaginings to ever be
translated into stark, clear reality, but about a week after Jo's
arrival that is exactly what happened.

It was in the evening, just after supper and Alan was working at his
desk in the corner of the living room.  Jo, or so he thought, was
down in her bedroom reading.  As he finished the chapter he was
working on he suddenly felt the need to urinate and he headed off
down the corridor to relieve himself.  Having lived alone for most of
his adult life, he had grown used to having the free run of his home
and, unthinkingly, he pushed open the door to the bathroom.  He was
about to walk in when he was suddenly startled by the sight of Jo,
completely naked, standing beside the shower.

"Oh Jesus!"  he exclaimed.  "Oh God...I'm sorry."  He backed out
hurriedly, closing the door behind him, and then he retreated quickly
all the way to the kitchen where he sat down heavily at the breakfast
nook.  A few minutes later he heard the shower begin to run and he
sat there with his face still red with embarrassment and a growing
stiffness pushing against the fabric of his pants.  He tried to push
the picture of her lithe and naked body from his mind but it kept
returning to him insistently with startling and vivid clarity.

Her breasts, as he now saw in his mind's eye, were more beautifully
perfect than any of his previous imaginings.  They were still hardly
more than little bumps, but they protruded from her chest just enough
to have developed a little underhang and they were capped with
conical little puffy nipples that were barely darker than the
surrounding pillows of flesh.  Below, her waist was beginning to lose
the sexless straight-lines of pre-adolescence and her hips were now
displaying the gently curving flare that marks incipient womanhood.
Even further below, at the juncture of her smooth and well-formed
thighs, the plump saddle of her girlish pussy stood out prominently,
its soft surface and delicate crevice completely smooth and hairless.

Alan was so lost in the contemplation of this exciting vision that he
failed to hear the shower turn off, or to notice that Jo had come
down the hall to the kitchen.  When he finally did look up, he was
startled to see her standing in the doorway and staring at him in
some surprise.  She was dressed in her robe and her hair still clung
damply to her scalp.

"Jeez...you're all red, Uncle Al," she said.  "Like you're blushing,
or something."  Her observation only served to make Alan turn an even
deeper shade of red and he was struggling to make some suitable reply
when her expression suddenly gave way to a coy little smile.  "That's
not because you saw me in my birthday suit, is it?"  she asked,
teasingly.  Alan almost choked.

"Uh...I guess," he finally managed to reply.  "I'm awful sorry about
that, Jo.  I really didn't know you were in there."

"Well...that's okay," she said, her tone suggesting that she was
unable to understand his discomfiture.  "At home me and Grammy and
Grampa are always in the bathroom together."

Alan was a little nonplussed at this announcement.  He knew, of
course, that some families were quite casual about nudity, but he
came from a background where relatives maintained a strict policy of
privacy where the bathroom was concerned and he found her lack of
concern over the incident a little alien.

"Well...it just surprised me a little," he admitted.  "I guess I'm a
little shy..."  Jo giggled.

"That's so cute," she said, giving him a little flip of her wrist.
Then, the topic clearly closed for her, she looked over at the
fridge.  "Do you think I could have a Coke?"  she asked.

"Well, sure honey," replied Alan, relieved at the change of subject.
"You don't have to ask, you know."  Jo went to the fridge and took
out a can.  She closed the door and he watched her return to the
living room.  A moment later he heard the television being turned on
and, intending to join her, he sat alone in the kitchen for a minute
or so until his erection mercifully subsided.

Over the following week, Jo's cheerful absence of modesty was
demonstrated a number of times.  The first occasion happened after
supper one evening just as it was getting dark.  She and Alan had
been reading together on the couch when she announced she was going
to take a bath.  She left the room and then returned a few minutes
later wearing nothing but her panties to fetch the book she had left.
Alan tried to appear as though he didn't notice her but when she
turned to leave he was unable to help himself from staring at her,
enslaved by the way her lovely little bottom cheeks jostled against
each other as she walked away.

The next incident took place a few days later when Alan was in the
shower.  He was soaping himself off and humming to himself when the
shower curtain billowed inward and he felt a rush of cold air.  He
looked up and was able to make out the dim form of Jo passing by the
nearly opaque curtain.  A little alarmed, he stuck his head out to
see her pulling off her robe.

"What...What are you doing, Jo?"  he asked.

"Going to take a shower," she replied with a little shrug.  "Can you
leave the water running for me?"  She was only wearing a pair of
white cotton panties beneath her robe and when she started to peel
them off Alan drew his head quickly back into the shower stall.
Clearly, she expected him to step out for her to get in, but he was
sure he was not ready for that.

"Can you hand me a towel, dear," he called out above the hiss of the
water.  Jo took a towel from the rack and handed it to him with a
theatrical roll of her eyes.

"Here you go, Mr. Shy-pants," she said to him with an exaggerated
sigh of mock frustration.  He took the towel from her and, being
careful to keep it dry, he wrapped it around his waist.  He stepped
out of the shower, trying to avoid looking at his niece but catching
a glimpse of her naked form as she came toward the shower.  Anxious
to avoid any unseemly developments in the groin region he quickly
fled the steamy chamber and went to his bedroom.  Once inside he sat
down heavily on the bed and wondered what on earth he could do about
this delicate situation.

As he reflected, it struck him that there were two courses of action
open to him.  On the one hand, he could simply explain to Jo that
being naked together made him uncomfortable and that it was also
inappropriate.  This was clearly the wisest course of action and the
one he ought to adopt, but when he thought about it in more depth he
found that he was strangely reluctant to choose it.

He could, on the other hand, just do nothing and adapt to the
situation and his own inhibitions as best he could.  There was
something appealing about this choice, especially when he considered
the prospect of seeing his niece naked on a regular basis, but he
also realized that it was one that was fraught with danger.  If he
adopted that policy (and he more or less knew he was going to) he was
going to have to watch himself and be very, very careful.



Chapter 2


As June began to draw to a close, Alan decided to take a week or two
off.  He had finished his most recent project and, though he had
another waiting to start, there was no immediate rush and he felt he
could use a little rest.  Jo was settling in very well and he thought
it might be nice if he could find some pleasant diversions for them
to enjoy together.

On one insupportably hot and sweltering afternoon he took her to the
pool at a nearby park.  He did not feel like swimming himself and was
quite content to watch the pretty young girl splash about in the
water herself.  It was crowded, given the incredible heat, and, on
any other occasion, Alan would have strained his neck looking at the
host of bikini clad young women who were playfully splashing each
other in the pool or lounging in the sun on the deck.  As it was,
however (and he recognized the rather disturbing implications of the
situation), he only had eyes for his gorgeous little niece.

She was dressed in a candy-striped full body swimsuit that contrasted
delightfully with the golden tan of her sleek, young limbs.  It
hugged the lovely curves of her slender form in a way that made Alan
almost light-headed to watch her and he consciously tried to avoid
staring too hard lest anyone notice his obvious interest.  Several
times, Jo climbed out of the pool to use the springboard and, each
time she did so, she would hook her fingers inside her swimsuit, just
below the underside of her bottom, and gently tug out the material
that had ridden upward.  It was such a deliciously feminine action
that Alan, from his vantage-point directly behind her, truly thought
that he was about to faint.

Afterwards, they stopped for ice cream at a kiosk near the park gates
and they finished them off as they walked the quarter mile or so to
Alan's trailer.  Once inside, Alan, who had worked up a considerable
sweat (as much from his erotic thoughts at the poolside as from the
heat), decided to take a shower.  He did so, relishing the refreshing
spray of cold water, and then changed into clean underwear, a fresh
pair of shorts and a large baggy T-shirt that had a large can of
Budweiser stenciled on the front.

"Can I borrow one of your T-shirts, Uncle Al," she asked him when he
came back to the living room.  It was a Tuesday and Mrs. Milford, his
part-time cleaning lady, was not due to come and do the laundry until
the next day.  He supposed that the girl was running low on things of
her own to wear.

"Sure, honey," he said.  "There's a spare one on top of my dresser."

"Great," she smiled.  "I'm going to take a shower as well."

When Jo had disappeared into the bathroom, Alan sat down in the
middle of the couch and began idly flipping through the channels on
the television.  He spent a few minutes watching the end of a
sit-com, but still hadn't found anything decent to watch when his
niece returned some ten minutes later.  She was wearing his outsize
T-shirt and the large, billowing garment hung down to just below her
crotch.  He could see no shorts peeking below the hem of her shirt
and he fervently hoped she at least had panties on.  She climbed up
on the couch to his left.

"What are we watching?"  she asked.

She was sitting with her back against the arm rest, her knees drawn
up and her feet pointing toward him, the tips of her toes just barely
grazing his thigh.  He turned slightly toward her and then quickly
looked away when he realized he could see a white flash of her
panty-covered crotch peeking at him from between the slender columns
of her legs.  The glance, however, although brief, had been long
enough for him to clearly make out the way that the thin fabric was
tucked into the narrow crevice of her plump little pussy lips.  He
groaned inwardly, suddenly painfully aware that his cock was
twitching with interest inside his underwear.  "Oh...uh, I haven't
found anything yet," he mumbled.

"Want me to look?"  she asked, holding out her hand.  He gave her the
remote and she began to scan the channels.  Alan barely noticed where
she was going but he suddenly stiffened with horror when he saw that
she had paused at one of the adult channels he had inadvertently
forgotten to lock out.

"Oh shit!"  he exclaimed.  On the screen a young couple was making
passionate and very noisy love.  The ample breasted woman was astride
her prostrate lover, rocking back and forth with great moans of
ecstasy, her head thrown back as though in pain.  Alan grasped for
the remote as Jo gazed at the scene with obvious interest.  He
fumbled it, however, and it fell down onto her stomach.

"They seem to be having fun," she observed.

"Uh...right," he managed to reply as his fingers closed about the
device.  He could feel his face burning with embarrassment now and he
quickly switched channels.  "There must be something good on
somewhere," he said.  Jo laughed out loud.

"God...you are so shy," she giggled.  She pushed him playfully in his
shoulder with the sole of her foot and, as she did so, her shirt rode
up and he saw the whole expanse of her plain cotton panties and the
smooth skin of her stomach above.  Resolutely, he turned to the
television and began channel surfing once again.

A few minutes later he happened upon a nature show and Jo gave a
little squeal of amusement as a bear cub, perching in the lower limbs
of a tree, lost its balance and tumbled to the ground.  Relieved,
Alan relaxed a little and set the remote down beside him to watch
along with her.  Jo, settling back against the armrest, stretched out
her legs and laid them across his lap, shuffling her hips to get
comfortable.  The change in position made Alan a little nervous, but
her legs were mercifully not in contact with the semi-hard
protuberance beneath the fabric of his shorts.

They continued to watch in silence and then Alan, without consciously
intending to do so, let his left hand drop down so that the palm
rested lightly over the top of her thigh.  When he realized, to his
horror, that his hand was less than three inches from her crotch he
almost pulled it away, but the smooth warmth of her bare leg had
captivated him and, cursing himself for a fool, he let it lie there.
Jo, absorbed by the show, did not seem to notice and several minutes
went by before she finally spoke.

"Uncle Al?"  she asked suddenly.  "How come you don't have a
girlfriend?"  Startled by the question, Alan looked over at her to
find her gazing at him in interest.  The luminous beauty of her deep
brown eyes locked with his and for a moment he became lost in them,
unable to reply.

"Well, I used to..."  he eventually managed to say.  "Last year I
did.  But we broke up."

"Oh, that's sad," her pretty face screwing up in an expression of
sympathy.  "Don't you want to find another?"

"Oh, sure, I guess," he said.  "I'm in no rush."

"But you need someone," she told him seriously.  "Someone you can do
stuff with."  At this last comment, he looked across at her sharply.
After the incident with the porno flick he was afraid that her
reference to 'doing stuff' might be a loaded comment, but he saw that
her expression was completely innocent.

"Yeah...it'd be nice," he said finally.  He turned back to the
television and, as he did so, she patted the hand that lay across her
leg and then tucked her fingers under his palm and gave it a
sympathetic squeeze.  This development, by itself, would not have
been unduly alarming, but when she pulled his hand further up toward
her his heart almost leapt into his mouth.  Even without looking, he
knew that his finger tips were mere fractions of an inch from her
crotch and, indeed, under the pad of his little finger tip he could
feel the elastic of her panties at the top of her left leg.  Almost
immediately he was fully and stiffly erect.

'Oh God,' he thought in dismay, 'What am I getting myself into now?'
He knew he should remove his hand but he was unable to do so.
Slowly, and wondering if he had completely lost his mind, he slid his
little finger sideways a little and felt it graze over the thin
cotton fabric beneath.  Jo, her eyes fixed on the television set gave
no sign that she had noticed the move.

His cock now throbbed almost angrily within its cotton prison.  Had
he been a little more heavily endowed, the signs of his arousal might
have been visible.  As it was, however, his erection was well
contained by his tight shorts and, unless she moved her leg, he could
keep the development a secret.

Inevitably, of course, she did move her leg.  He was just making
another tentative stroke with his little finger when she suddenly
slid her leg over so that the calf sat squarely atop his rigid pole
of flesh.  Horrified, he froze instantly, sure that she must realize
his condition.  He looked at her, but as the seconds passed and she
made no reaction he relaxed a little and his heart rate began to
return to normal.  He sat still for a moment or so longer and then,
knowing that he could no longer handle the situation, he carefully
disengaged his hand from hers.

"I need a drink," he announced, his voice almost a croak.  He lifted
her legs from his lap and then rose toward the kitchen, moving
quickly so that she should not see him in profile.  "You want
anything?"  he asked over his shoulder.

"A Coke would be nice," she told him.  Her tone was light and casual
when she replied, but the pretty features of her face showed
puzzlement as she watched him retreat from the room.

Later that evening, Alan pleaded a headache and went to bed quite
early and Jo, not yet tired, stayed up for a while to watch
television by herself.  She found the adult channel she had stumbled
upon earlier, but it now featured a group of cheerleader type
cavorting about with their breasts exposed.  This did not interest
her overly, so eventually she flicked the television off and went
down the narrow hallway to her own room.  It was still quite hot and
sticky in the little trailer, so she simply pulled off her Uncle's
large T-shirt and then stretched out on top of the bedclothes in just
her panties.  She lay there, in the humid stillness of the evening
and silently reflected on her current situation.

Coming to Alan's home for the summer was an enjoyable experience for
Jo.  She liked her Uncle very much and the casual informality of his
household was a refreshing change from the well ordered and sometimes
strictly run home of her grandparents.  The only thing she really
missed was her computer.  Alan had one on his desk, but there were
few games on it and he had no Internet connection.  At home, however,
there was a nice machine in the finished basement and she spent a lot
of time by herself, sometimes visiting chat-rooms and web-sites that
would have given her guardians fits had they known what she was up to.

She remembered one occasion the previous winter when she had come
across a chat room whose name clearly suggested it had something to
do with young girls and sex.  Curious, she entered the channel and,
having selected the nickname 'LittleJo', was immediately swamped with
a veritable flood of messages.  Some were rude and others patently
off-putting in their crudity, but she found one man, calling himself
'Hank', who spoke to her politely and kindly.  He told her he was 42
years old and they chatted for a long time; first about
inconsequential things and then, later, about much more interesting
subjects indeed.

Inevitably, the conversation turned to sex and Hank admitted, in a
very nice way, that he found himself very attracted to young girls
like Jo.  When he began to discuss, in non-offensive terms, what he
would like to do if they were together, she found herself becoming
quite aroused.  In short, she found the whole experience very
exciting and stimulating, and she returned to the channel many times
over the months that followed.

One thing Jo learned was that 'Hank' was hardly alone in his desire.
She also found that the desire these older men had for young girls
existed as a deep and gnawing hunger that seemed, even to her young
mind, to put a great deal of power in the hands of the young girls
they lusted after.  Sometimes, she could be quite teasing when she
chatted in these rooms and she came to relish those situations where
she could bring her correspondents to the very heights of erotic
passion.  She also knew, or at least she thought, that this same
hunger existed in her Uncle Alan.  She had not failed to notice the
erection he had sported earlier, nor his almost imperceptible caress
over her panties, but what she could not understand, however, was his
curious insistence at keeping her at arm's length.  The desire for
her seemed to be there, she felt, but his confusing behavior made her
uncertain if she was reading him correctly.

The sudden memory of Alan's erection that afternoon brought a little
rush of excitement to her, and she tried hard to imagine what it must
look like uncovered.  Was it thick?  Was it long?  Did it have that
curious sleeve of skin at the top that she now knew to be called a
foreskin?  The brief contact her leg had made allowed her only to
sense the stiffness of the organ, not appreciate its actual
dimensions, and she discovered, with a little thrill of naughtiness,
that she really wanted to find out for herself.

When she had appeared undressed in his presence, and expected him to
do the same, she was really acting quite innocently, and in the way
she had grown up to expect as normal.  With the discovery of his
interest in her, however, her desire for him to get over his
inhibitions became that much more acute.  The shyness he exhibited
was undeniably endearing to her, but she really wished she could find
a way to break him out of his shell.

As she lay with these thoughts in the humid darkness, Jo suddenly
realized that she was becoming very aroused.  In the last year or so,
she had begun to be aware of stirring desires in her developing young
body and she had very quickly discovered the secret pleasures of
self-stimulation.  Slowly and softly, with her breath becoming deep
and measured, she let her hand slide down the flat of her tummy and
then across the gentle rise of her panty-covered pudendum.  She
pressed lightly with her cupped palm and, all at once, the first
faint fluttering of excitement solidified into a hard ball of lust
deep in the pit of her stomach.  With trembling hands, she hooked her
thumbs into the waistband of her panties and then slid them down over
her hips to remove them.  In moments, with a confidence borne of
practice, her fingers found the narrow slit between her thighs and
she searched for the little nubbin of her clitoris as it slowly
erected itself out from its covering hood.

For several minutes she let her fingers play about the increasingly
moist slit and then, still keeping her hand pressed tightly over her
mound, she rolled over onto her stomach and then rose to her knees.
Previously, in the silent watches of the night at her grandparent's
home, she had discovered a technique that could always bring her to
orgasm, and which she incorrectly thought was unique to her.  It
involved holding a pillow tight between her legs and rocking so that
the pressure of the tight ball of fabric stimulated her pussy to
intense orgasm.  At first she did this lying on her side, but since
then she had refined the technique and now, in her intense arousal,
she wanted to indulge.

She grabbed her pillow and folded it in half, pinching the fold into
a tight ridge.  She then placed it down on the mattress between her
legs and lowered herself onto it, pulling the outer cover away from
the inside so that it formed a little crease.  She made sure the
crease was tucked tightly into the moist slit of her pussy and then
she gripped the pillow tightly with her thighs and allowed herself to
sit back on her folded legs.  Slowly, she began to rock and, with her
hands free for other explorations, she started to caress the firm
mounds of her tiny breasts, pulling and tugging at the stiffening
nipples in a way that made her give a little gasp of pleasure.

As she increased the tempo of her rocking, the bed creaked slightly,
but she didn't think it would be audible outside the room and she
continued on, giving herself over completely to the intense
sensations.  She tugged and pulled at her sensitive nipples with
increasing vigor and rocked harder and harder against the fullness of
the pillow.  She moaned again several times in quick succession and
within a few minutes brought herself to a mind-numbing climax that
left her collapsed and panting on the sweat-damp coverlet of the bed.
Her chest heaved with her exertions and a very short time later she
drifted effortlessly off into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Next door, in his own bed, Alan was awoken by what he fancied was a
noise from Jo's room.  Whether it was a cough or a moan he did not
know, and he wondered whether she was maybe having a bad dream.  He
also thought he heard her bed creak a few times and it struck him
that she must be sleeping quite fitfully.  As he imagined her in her
own bed alone, he suddenly became immensely erect again and in no
time at all he was pumping himself to a satisfying, if slightly
guilty, orgasm.  He could not know it, of course (nor would he ever),
but his niece, barely eight feet away, was shuddering through the
waves of her own climax at the very instant he was fantasizing about
her and shooting his copious ejaculate into his waiting hand.



Chapter 3


Jo's curiosity about her Uncle's cock was satisfied much sooner than
she ever expected, but in a way she would never have imagined.

On the morning after the simultaneous, if not mutual, masturbation
sessions, Jo arose early and was out amusing herself in the backyard
long before Alan was even awake.  When he finally did surface into
consciousness, it was almost ten o'clock and he realized, with a
little stab of panic, that the cleaning lady was to arrive very
shortly.  He hustled himself out of bed and was just heading toward
the shower when something caught his eye just inside the open doorway
into Jo's room.

There, just to the left of her dresser, was a small splash of white
against the deep orange pile of the carpet.  He stopped to look a
little closer and then suddenly realized that it was a pair of her
worn panties.  He didn't know it, of course, but they were the same
pair she had discarded in the middle of the night just before she
began touching herself.  She had put on a fresh pair when she arose
in the morning and then left the room without noticing that they were
still lying there.

Furtively, he looked around and then stepped into the room to pick
them up.  He was just savoring the softness of the thin material in
his hands when he heard the rattle of the screen door and he guiltily
darted through the doorway and back into his own room.  A moment
later, Jo called out to him.

"Uncle Al?"  she shouted.  "Mrs.  Milford's here..."

"Okay, hon..."  he called back, trying to keep his voice level.
"Just tell her I'm taking a quick shower, will you?"

"Alrighty..."  she sang, just before he heard the screen door slam
shut again.

After looking around the room, he started to hide the panties under
his pillow for later investigation and then he suddenly remembered
that Mrs. Milford would be stripping the beds for the laundry.  He
settled on the drawer of his nightstand as a safe place and he
dropped them in there before heading back to the bathroom.  As he
showered, he thought of the soft white fabric of the panties again
and, with his cock stiffening at the memory, he fervently wished it
was nighttime already so that he could touch them again.

In the afternoon, he drove Jo the thirty odd miles to the coast and
they fished for mackerel off a wharf.  Neither of them caught
anything but they got a lot of fresh air and had a very good time
anyway.  Afterwards, they spent a few hours exploring the seaside
town and then they had a delicious meal in a seafood restaurant
before driving back.  Jo napped for most of the drive and after a
light supper at home she fell asleep in front of the television even
before nine o'clock had rolled around.  Alan shook her awake after it
became clear that she was finished for the day and she stumbled off
to her bed after bidding him a sleepy goodnight.

Alan remained up for almost two hours, then he switched off the
television and the lights and went to his own room.  He closed the
door firmly behind him and, as there was a bright full moon shining
through the window, he left the room lights off.  He was now
trembling in anticipation at the thought of the panties in his drawer
and when he undressed he did it slowly, savoring and prolonging the
moment.  When he was completely naked he carefully opened the drawer
and, before his fingers had even closed upon the soft cotton inside,
his cock was standing out straight and stiff from the tangle of hair
at his groin.

With a care almost bordering on reverence, he drew out the skimpy
little garment and unfolded it to lie flat in the palms of both
hands.  The cotton was a simple white, with only a slight nap for
texture, but there was a very delicate lacy border around the leg
holes that he thought was called a 'scalloped' edging.  He ran his
thumbs over the front of the crotch, feeling a thrill at the cottony
sensation, and then he slowly raised the panties to his face and
inhaled her sweet and delicate perfume.  It was faint, almost
imperceptible, but he was able to detect the slightly musky, slightly
salty aroma with its almost peppery undertone.  It excited him
tremendously and, as he buried his nose in the softness of the
crotch, his cock seemed to swell even larger, throbbing with intense
arousal.

After a moment he took away the panties and dangled them just above
the shaft of his pulsating organ.  He lowered them slowly until they
just barely grazed the turgid flesh and then he dragged them along
the surface, feeling a thrill at the touch.  He let the garment play
about the sensitive head of his cock and then he used his hands to
open them apart, letting the swollen tip of his root slide inside the
waist to push against the bottom of the crotch.  The thought that his
cock was rubbing against the surface of the material that had
recently cradled his niece's most intimate parts was almost
unbearably intoxicating and when he took the panties away once again
there was a glistening bubble of pre-cum oozing from his pee-hole.
He sat down then, on the edge of the bed, with his knees spread
widely apart, and he began to stroke the length of his tumescence,
using the cotton panties as a stimulating glove.

He was just past the point of no return when the door to his room
opened.  It took him a second to realize what had occurred, but by
then it was too late.  With a sudden spasm, his cock began to spurt
forth its sticky load, and, shuddering from the sensation, he looked
up to see Jo standing in the doorway.  A shaft of moonlight sliced
across the lower part of her body and her face was partly hidden in
the shadow, but he was sure, in that instant, that the expression on
her features was one of startled surprise.

"Oh...Jesus!"  he yelped in alarm.  He jumped up from the bed and saw
her withdraw backward a foot or so, as though in fear.  "Oh, Jesus,"
he said again, this time almost moaning the words.  He tossed the
panties hastily across the room into the corner and turned away from
the door.

"Are...are you alright, Uncle Al?"  came Jo's voice from the hallway.
There was a note of real concern in her voice.

"Yes...yes," he gasped a moment later.  It struck him, with a brief
sensation of hope, that maybe she hadn't seen anything after all.
"I'm okay," he managed to continue.  "But you really should have
knocked, sweetie."

"I'm sorry, Uncle Al," she replied, still hidden around the corner.
"But I have a tummy ache..."

"A tummy ache?"  he repeated.  The tone of her voice made him begin
to think that maybe she really hadn't known what was going on.  It
was dark in the room, after all, and she was probably half asleep.
"There's some Pepto-Bismol in the medicine cabinet, hon..."  he
called out to her.

"Oh...okay," she answered, and then he heard her padding softly
toward the bathroom.  Quickly, he pulled on his robe and stuck his
head around the doorjamb.  There was light on in the bathroom now and
he could hear her fumbling through the cabinet.

"You find it?"  he asked.

"Yeah...I got it," she answered.

"Alright, honey," he said.  "Take a good swallow and then get
yourself back to bed, okay?  If you still feel bad you can call for
me if you want."

"Okay, Uncle Al."

He closed his door and then sat down heavily on the bed.  A moment
later he heard Jo's bedroom door close and he let out a loud sigh as
the tension subsided a little.  He asked himself again whether she
had seen anything and finally concluded, on the balance of things,
that she had not.  Surely, her response would have been quite
different if she had actually caught sight of him flailing away at
his cock; surely she wouldn't have asked if he was alright, or
remained so obviously calm through the exchange that followed.  This
last thought did a lot to calm his jangled nerves and, when he
finally climbed wearily beneath his covers a few minutes later, his
heart was beating more or less normally once again.

The next morning he arose and went out to the kitchen to find Jo busy
at the stove.

"I made breakfast," she informed him brightly.  "There's toast, and
sausages and even scrambled eggs.  The sausages got burned just a
little...but the eggs turned out real good."

"Oh wow," he smiled.  "You've been busy."  He sat down at the little
breakfast nook and felt a weight suddenly being lifted from his
shoulders.  The tone of her casual chatter was so natural and
unforced that any doubts he might still have that she had seen
anything evaporated like an early morning mist.  "So what do you want
to do today, honey?"  he asked.

"I'd like to try to catch a fish again," she replied.  He frowned.

"It's a bit far to go two days in a row," he told her.  "How about we
get some lunch in town and then maybe do some shopping?  You look
like you could use some new sneakers."

"Oh, sure!"  she beamed, genuinely pleased with the plan.  She
brought him over his plate of breakfast and set it before him.  He
looked down.

"Oh, my...It looks delicious, honey," he exclaimed, with unfeigned
relish.

They returned from the Mall a little before four o'clock and each had
a cold can of Coke out on the back steps.  Jo was wearing the new
sneakers she had chosen and she kept fingering the delicate little
necklace he had bought her as a special present.

"It's so pretty!"  she said for the hundredth time.

"It is on you," he smiled and she gave him a playful slap on the
knee, her face flushed with pleasure.  He drained his last mouthful
and then Jo giggled when he burped loudly.  "Well..."  he announced.
"I think I could use a little nap before supper.  How about we order
a Pizza later?"

"Cool..."  she agreed.  "Can we get pineapple on my half?"

Later, they ate their Pizza in front of the television, watching a
rather silly movie that was just entertaining enough to get them both
laughing.  Alan made a big thing of grimacing when she offered him a
slice with pineapple on it and she told him he didn't know what he
was missing.  They finished almost all of the pie and, when the movie
ended, Jo announced she was going to have a shower.  Alan himself
changed into a fresh pair of shorts and a new T-shirt and he was
seated back on the couch when his pretty niece returned.

She had not changed into her nightdress, as he had expected, but was
instead wearing the same pair of deliciously tiny shorts she had worn
on her first morning at is home.  Up top, she wore a too-small yellow
T-shirt that was stretched tightly across the protruding mounds of
her breasts and he fancied, for a moment that he could make out the
hard little points of her nipples.  It was difficult being faced with
this enticing sight, but he consciously willed himself not to stare
too closely or obviously.

"I think I'd like a little ice-cream," she announced.

"Ice-cream?"  he exclaimed.  "My god, Jo...You're going to burst."

"Just a little spoonful," she giggled.  She went into the kitchen and
came back a moment later with a bowl.  She stood in the doorway to
eat it and had just finished scraping out the last of it when Alan
became conscious that she was staring at him intently.

"What?"  he asked, wondering if there was some Pizza sauce still
adhering to his face.

"Your side-burns are uneven," she announced.  He put his hand up to
his face and felt both sides.

"Yeah," he agreed finally.  "I guess I'm not very good with the
clippers."

"Oh...I can do it for you," she told him.  She set down her bowl and
disappeared toward the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with
the electric clippers in her hand.  He was about to ask her if she
knew what she was doing, but before he could speak she surprised him
by climbing on top of him, her legs straddling his.

"Now...let's see," she said to herself, examining each of his
sideburns in turn.  She was sitting directly over him and he was
acutely aware of her closeness to him.  Her tightly encased crotch
was mere inches above his and the realization of this made him fully
erect even before she had switched the clippers on.  It was a torment
to be in this position but he felt powerless to do anything about it.

The buzz of the clippers was loud in his ears as she set about her
task.  She almost lost her balance at one point and he instinctively
shot out his hand to steady her.  Without reaching for any particular
place, he found that he was now cupping the smooth, bare surface of
her upper thigh, the edges of his fingers just barely grazing the
lower hem of her shorts.

"Careful, sweetie" he said.  "This is a bad time to make a slip."

"Oh, don't worry," she chided him, her face still screwed up in
concentration.  "I'm almost done."

She bent slightly, to change her angle of view, and with that simple
motion his fingers actually slid a little way inside the rear of her
shorts so that he could feel the first gentle curve of her bottom.
The touch electrified Alan, but Jo was so absorbed by what she was
doing she gave no indication of noticing.

"There..."  she said a moment later, leaning back slightly to admire
the effect.  Reluctantly, Alan withdrew his hand from her bottom and
let it slide to the couch.  He expected her to climb off him at that
moment but to his horror, and with no warning at all, she suddenly
sat down into his lap, the narrow saddle between her legs pressing
hard against the turgid rod of his erection.

Alan froze like a deer before the headlights of an oncoming truck.

Almost instantaneously, Jo's eyes flickered swiftly upward to lock
with his and he knew, in that instant that she could feel his
erection.  A vision of prison gates slamming behind him suddenly
floated into his mind and he waited in miserable silence for her to
leap off him in horrified alarm.

But she didn't do that...

Instead, Jo continued to stare at him curiously, even shifting her
weight slightly, as if to further investigate the unusual
protuberance pressing against her.  It was a maddening sensation, but
Alan was in no state of mind to enjoy it.  It seemed an eternity
before the moment broke, but it did so when she finally addressed him
softly.

"Uncle Al?"  she began, her eyes still locked with his.  "Last night,
when you were...I mean, when I came to your room...were those my
panties you were using?"

She might just as well have thrust a pitchfork through his heart!  He
goggled at her stupidly, unable to believe his ears.  Not only had
she seen his erection, she had also understood what he was doing down
to the last embarrassing detail.

"Because that's okay, you know," she told him.  "It's not like I'm
going to tell anyone or anything."  Suddenly, he saw a little ray of
hope.

"Th...thank you," he managed to whisper.  She smiled at him then and
she gave her hips a delicious little wiggle once again.

"It feels good when you do that, doesn't it?"  she asked coyly.  He
felt his face burning at the directness of her question and his eyes
dropped from hers.  Jo giggled.

"Oh, come on..."  she teased.  "I know all about that stuff, you
know.  It's not like it's just guys who do it."

"Oh...Jo," he began.  She cut him off...

"And if you want to use my panties again...I don't mind.  Really..."
This last was too much for Alan.  Firmly he lifted her off his lap
and stood up.  He started to walk from the room but her voice stopped
him.

"Did...did I make you mad?"  she asked plaintively, the wounded
dismay in her voice cutting him like a knife.  He turned to her again.

"Oh, no...no, honey."  He assured her.  "I'm not mad...not at you
anyway.  It's just a very complicated situation, that's all."

"How complicated?"  she asked.

"Well..."  he began, uncertainly.  "It's just not a good idea for us
to be talking about this stuff...or doing anything...you know?"

"But...don't you want to?"  she asked.  She looked at him full in the
face but he shook his head warningly.  She saw, then, that he was
very uncomfortable and she nodded her head in understanding.

"Okay," she said, finally.  "But you still love me don't you?"  He
paused for a moment, torn by an impulse to sweep her into his arms
and hug her tightly against him.

"Of course I do, honey," he answered softly.  "I love you very much."



Chapter 4


During the whole of the next day and for several days thereafter, Jo
and Alan passed their company together in a rather distant, but
polite uneasiness.  They were pleasant to each other, as always, but
their conversation had a somewhat forced, unnatural formality about
it.  On the afternoon of the fourth day, Alan made some offhand,
joking comment about something or other and it just happened to
strike Jo as deliciously funny.  She laughed uproariously for several
minutes and he knew, in that moment, that whatever crisis had arisen
between them was now passed.  Later, he took Jo out for supper, and
then to a movie, and, by the end of the evening, things were happily
back to normal between them.

After the movie they returned home to find that there was absolutely
nothing to watch on the television.  The air had taken on a sticky,
heavy closeness and Alan suggested that it might be nice to take a
little walk.  Jo agreed and they left the trailer and headed for the
little park with the swimming pool down the road.  A wind had started
to get up as they left the trailer and, by the time they were on the
return leg of their constitutional, it had increased quite
dramatically.  Ahead of them, scraps of papers and leaves whirled in
the air as if in a wind-tunnel and the dust from the street stung
their eyes.

"It's going to storm," predicted Jo, with a little shiver.  She
hugged her arms across her chest.

"I think you're right, sweetie," he agreed.  He glanced skyward and,
although it was now too dark to really see anything, he fancied he
could sense the gathering thunderheads.  "Let's hurry up," he said
and they quickened their pace, arriving at the trailer door just as
the faint rumblings of approaching thunder could be heard somewhere
in the distance.  Alan was just opening the door when he felt the
first drop of rain fall upon his cheek.

It was getting late now and they both went to their separate beds as
the storm continued its stentorian approach.  Alan actually managed
to fall asleep briefly, but he was awakened a little bit later by a
tremendous thunderclap that seemed to come from just overhead.
Sitting up in his bed, he thought he heard another rhythmic banging
sound and, when he looked out his window, he saw that the door to his
little shed was swinging madly in the shrieking wind.  Cursing to
himself, he levered himself out of bed and fumbled for his gown.

Twice, when he was outside, the sky flashed angrily with lightning
and brought him, and the yard, into a stark and ghostly, blue relief.
He managed to secure the door with some difficulty and had just
reached the trailer when a third burst of lightning caused the lights
in the neighborhood to flicker and then fail, plunging everything
into a thick and palpable darkness.

"Oh, shit," he said to himself.  It was absolutely pitch black in the
trailer and, when he tried to feel his way gingerly into the living
room, he struck his knee smartly against the edge of a coffee table.
He swore again and then paused to rub the afflicted part.  He was
conscious of the fact that his hair was now wetly plastered about his
scalp, but, rather than trying to make the difficult trip to the
laundry cupboard in the bathroom for a towel, he simply pulled the
back of his gown up and rubbed his head with that.  He was just
making his way carefully to his bedroom when Jo called out to him.

"I'm scared, Uncle Al," she said.  "I hate it when it's like this."

"It's just a power outage, honey," he tried to reassure her.  "I'm
sure they'll have it fixed soon."

"Can I come into your bed 'til they do?"  she asked winsomely.  Alan
paused, swallowing hard.

"I...I think you're better where you are, dear," he answered a moment
later.

"Well...you come into my bed, then," she said simply, as though
solving an elementary problem.  Alan did not respond.  He stood in
the darkness outside her doorway in an agony of indecision.

"Please, Uncle Al," she pleaded.  "It's really scary like this."  He
felt his resolve crumble and with a resigned shake of his head he
entered her bedroom.

"Well, alright," he said.  "But just for a very little while, okay?"
He was about to strip off his gown but then he suddenly realized he
had nothing on underneath.  He hesitated for a moment, wondering what
he could do, and then it struck him that it was impossible for her to
see anything in this darkness anyway.  He pulled off the garment and
then slid under the covers on the far side of the bed from her.

"Ooh...you're letting all the warm air out," she complained.

"Ah...stop your moaning, girl," he replied, easily.  Outside, the
wind was still fiercely howling but the last thunderclap had been
more subdued than the previous one and it was obvious that the storm
was moving off.  "You ought to try and get some sleep, honey," he
told her.

"Will you scratch my back for me?"  she asked.

"Scratch your back?"  he echoed in mock indignation.  "Anything else
you might like while I'm at it, Your Highness?  A shrimp cocktail,
perhaps?  Maybe a mud-pack facial?"  Jo giggled.

"Now you're just being silly," she told him.  She flipped easily onto
her side and presented the smooth expanse of her back to him.  He
hesitated for a moment and then raised his fingers to the satiny,
warm surface.

"Do it all over..."  she said.  "So you get all the itchy spots."

His hand trembled a little at first, but he began to scratch lightly
up and down, being careful not to let his fingers stray below the
small of her back.  He heard her sigh deep in her throat once and
then her breathing became slow and measured.  He continued to caress
until it seemed as though she had drifted off and then he took his
hand away.

"Don't stop..."  mumbled Jo, drowsily.  "Do it some more..."

He raised his hand to her back once more and this time, after making
a few circuits of the entire surface, he allowed his hand to stray a
little further south.  When his fingers, after failing to detect the
waistband of her panties, seemed to be touching the softer pad of her
upper buttock, he hastily pulled them back to safer regions.  Had her
panties merely ridden down low on her hips, or was she, he wondered,
with a little thrill, not wearing any panties at all?  This last
thought, of course, was clearly not calculated to comfort a man
desperately trying to avoid an erection and, in seconds, his cock was
heavily full and throbbing.

Jo, if her breathing was any guide, was clearly asleep at this point.
He knew, of course, that he ought to go back to his own bed, but the
warmth of her body, just inches from his own, was like a magnet,
drawing him ever closer.  He let his hand slide down the curve of her
upper flank and, when it slid softly over the rise of her hips he
knew, beyond any doubt now, that she was completely naked beside him.
He almost gasped at the discovery and, without consciously willing
it, he slid his own body over, closing the little gap that separated
them.

His cock immediately found the crevice between her buttocks and the
hot feel of her flesh against the sensitive tip almost made him moan.
He pushed forward a little more and the head slid down the crack to
nestle at the fleshy pocket created by the underhang of her bottom
cheeks and the juncture at the top of her legs.  It was an incredibly
wonderful place to be and he knew that wild horses couldn't drag him
away at that moment.

His hand stole up over the ridge of her flank and down across the
smooth flat plane of her tummy.  He slid it upward and a second later
his palm was sweeping gently over the mound of her left breast.
Almost immediately, to his very great surprise, the puffy little
nubbin of her nipple stiffened beneath his touch and stood out like a
fleshy bullet.  He repeated this with the right breast and felt his
heart race as he produced the same effect.

He was as aroused now as he had ever been in his life and he couldn't
help pushing his cock more insistently against her.  Suddenly, and
for him quite shockingly, Jo parted her thighs slightly and he slid
between them easily, his cock tip emerging at the other side.  He
froze, then, wondering if she had awoken, but he could detect no
change in her breathing so he relaxed a little.

Jo's thighs had closed again and he was now deliciously trapped
between the muscular softness.  He could feel the plump pads of her
vagina pressing down against the upper surface of his glans and the
very sensation made him almost delirious with lust.  He thrust
forward a little, feeling the sensitive surface graze over her
delicate pussy lips, and he thought he could detect the swollen head
almost parting the tender little pillows of flesh.  Slowly, as though
savoring each and every touch of her skin, his hand had moved
downward from her breast and it eagerly searched out the valley
between the front of her thighs.  His fingers, trembling with
anticipation, slipped across the mound of her pudendum and then
quickly found the narrow crevice just below.

As he slid his fingers down the tight little crack he began to
thrust, ever so gently, with his hips.  Jo's thighs were gripping him
so tightly that his cock did not slide, as a whole, back and forth
between her legs, rather the shaft slid up and down inside its outer
skin.  He was just building up a little rhythm when he suddenly
detected Jo's thighs increase the pressure around his cock and then
relax a little.  This was repeated several times in quick succession,
almost in synchronization with his own thrusts, and he knew that she
must be awake.  He wasn't quite sure, at first, but his conclusion
was confirmed a second later when her own hand gently nudged his
aside and began to caress and massage the little out-thrust mound of
her cunt.

If she had awakened a few minutes earlier he might have frozen and
been unable to continue.  Now, however, he was well passed the point
of no return and he couldn't have stopped if he tried.  He continued
to thrust, increasing the tempo as he did so, and in less than two
minutes he felt the gathering explosion in his loins.  He was lost in
the pure eroticism of the moment, of course, but, amidst it all, he
still maintained enough presence of mind to reach in front of himself
before he came.  When he did, gasping with the intensity of it, he
managed to catch the sticky outpouring of his cock in the palm of his
cupped and waiting hand.

It wasn't until the last aftershocks had subsided that the guilt
flooded him.  He carefully extricated himself from his niece and then
rolled upright to a sitting position.  He could feel Jo staring at
his back in the darkness.

"Uncle Al..."  she said.  "What's wrong?"

"I... I need to leave, Jo," he mumbled.  "I'm sorry..."  He rose from
the bed and left the room as best he could in the blackness.

"But...Uncle Al..."  she called after him, a note of almost pleading
in her voice.  Her worried tone tore at him but he couldn't stop.

"Good...goodnight, Jo," she heard him say, just as his bedroom door
closed.

The next morning, when he awoke, guilty and ashamed, he couldn't find
Jo anywhere.  She wasn't anywhere in the trailer, nor was she out in
the yard as far as he could see.  Worried, he pulled on his clothes
and hurried outside to look for her.  He was beginning to imagine all
sorts of awful possibilities when he suddenly saw her sitting
cross-legged on the grass just behind his shed.

"Hey, honey...I was worried about you," he said.  "I didn't know
where you were."

Jo didn't look up.  "I was here," she shrugged, simply.

"Just alone with your thoughts, huh, hon?"  Alan tried to inject a
note of casual heartiness in his words, but he wasn't at all sure if
he'd succeeded.  Jo merely nodded.  "You think maybe we should talk,
sweetie?"  he asked.

"About last night, you mean?"  she replied, looking at him finally.
It was Alan's turn to nod this time.

"Yeah," he answered softly.  "You know, hon, it wasn't right of me to
do that.  I should have known better."

"How come...If people love each other, how come it isn't okay?"

"Well...it's not that easy," Alan replied.  "Most people would say it
definitely isn't okay if one of those people is an adult and the
other is twelve...you must know that..."

"But I don't care what other people say," said Jo, almost angrily.

"But I have to," said Alan, gently.  Jo frowned.

"A while ago you said we could even talk about sexy stuff, right?"

"Yes..."

"Or do anything?"

"Yes...Yes...I did say that."

"But last night we did do something, and that was because you really
wanted to...you wanted to touch me and be with me...isn't that right
too?"  Jo was looking at him intently now and Alan had to think
carefully before he replied.

"I ... I guess so...yes..."  he said, slowly.  "But that doesn't mean
that..."  Jo suddenly cut him off.

"Well...it's not like you won't ever want to again, is it?"  she
asked pointedly.  "Because I hate it when you feel bad because you're
not doing something you really, really want...and I especially hate
it when you do something so nice and then feel even worse.  Can't we
just...be happy instead of feeling bad like this?"  Her eyes locked
with his and he saw the misery she was feeling.

"Oh god, sweetheart," he sighed.  "I wish it weren't like this...but
I'm afraid it's just not that easy."  Jo, still looking at him,
climbed to her feet.

"But it is, you know..."  she said, after a moment.  "It is that
easy...if you want."  She turned then and started to walk back into
the trailer, leaving Alan staring after her.

That night, Alan tossed in turned in his bed for what seemed like
hours.  Sometime after two o'clock in the morning, he gave up his
attempt to sleep as a bad job and went out to the living room.  He
switched on the television, turning down the sound as far as it would
go, and he began to flip through the channels without really caring
what was on.  He was still idly surfing a few minutes later when a
sudden change in the shadows told him he was not alone and he looked
up to see Jo standing in the doorway wearing the same large T-shirt
he had lent her before.

"Jo!"  he exclaimed, startled by her sudden appearance.  She didn't
answer him just then.  Instead, she crossed the room, took the remote
from his unresisting hand and switched off the television.  She then
tossed the device onto the couch and looked at him.  "What...what are
you doing, sweetie?"  he asked, completely dumbfounded.  It was quite
dark in the room, now; the only light coming from the back porch
light shining through the window.  Jo put her finger to her lips,
indicating he should be silent and then she stepped to the right so
that she stood directly in front of him.  She paused for a moment and
then he watched her, in stunned silence, as she quickly, and deftly,
pulled the T-shirt up over her head and took it off.  She stood there
before him, the sharp points of her breasts caught in the soft,
yellowish glow of the light from the porch.

"Oh, Jo...please.  No..."  he moaned.  "Please, don't do this..."
She had just hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and
was clearly about to draw them off when she stopped abruptly.

"Okay," she said, speaking for the first time.  "If you really don't
want me to.  If you really, really don't want to be with me, or touch
me...then I'll stop.  If you tell me that's what you want...then I
truly promise I'll never make you feel uncomfortable this way again.
" She stared at him intently, as though challenging him to turn her
away and he suddenly felt as though a watershed moment in their
relationship had been reached.  It was several moments before he
could reply.

"I...I can't," he croaked, his voice hoarse and dry.  "I guess I
can't tell you that..."  Her serious expression dissolved then and a
little smile, partly of relief, partly of satisfaction, spread across
her pretty features.

"I'm glad," she whispered.  She continued to remove her panties,
sliding them down over the little flare of her hips and letting them
hang for a moment before they fell to the floor.  She was completely
naked now, and Alan gazed at her with a lump rising in his throat and
a growing stiffness between his legs.  "I'm glad because I love you,
Uncle Alan," she said in the same deliciously sibilant whisper.

She stepped around the shelf of his knees and nimbly climbed up on
the couch to kneel beside him.  He started to reach for her but she
stilled his arms with her hands and he set them back down on the
couch at his side.  He swallowed hard then and, barely breathing,
watched as she deftly undid the tie at the front of his robe and
spread it open.  His cock, now fully erect, rose up sharply from the
tangled thatch of his pubic curls like a little blunt-headed missile
primed for launch.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, her eyes glistening in the soft
light.  "I like it that you get big and hard like this because of
me," She slowly extended a trembling hand and lightly caressed the
sensitive underside of the shaft, sliding the flat of her palm up the
turgid cylinder and up over the head.  Alan gave a little start and a
low moan, almost a sigh, escaped him.  "I've thought about doing this
when I was alone," she told him, whispering naughtily, and her words
sent a little electric thrill of excitement shivering up his spine.

Jo then raised up slightly and swung her right leg across him so that
she straddled him the way she had done when she trimmed his
sideburns.  She sat back, the underside of her thighs pressing down
on his, and then she took the shaft of his manhood firmly in her
right fist, pulling the outer skin tightly down so that the head and
upper shaft seemed to strain upward.  He gasped at the delicious
tension.

"Careful, honey..."  he managed to say.  "You'll make me cum like
that..."  Jo giggled softly.

"I don't want you to... not just yet," she said.  She raised up again
then and shuffled forward a little on her knees so that the plumpness
of her pussy was pressed lightly against his shaft.  At the first
contact, her breath seemed to catch and then a heavy and turgid
silence descended on the room.  As Alan sat motionless in
expectation, she placed her left hand flat on the back of the couch
over his shoulder and then used her right to gently maneuver the
rigid cylinder of his cock more deeply into the moist crevice between
her pussy lips.  She wiggled it gently, spreading the puffy labia
apart, and he swore that he could feel the hard little finger of her
clitoral erection poking into the tender fold of flesh on the
underside of his glans.

"Oh, God..."  he breathed.  "Oh, my beautiful baby."  He sat there,
allowing her to control the moment, and then she put her right hand
on the back of the couch also and shuffled even further forward,
pressing his cock backward so that it almost lay flat against his
stomach.  Her head bowed then, her long dark hair falling lightly
across his chest, and he could suddenly feel the hotness of her
breath against his collarbone.  "Oh...Jo," he whispered, feeling his
love like a hard knot in his stomach.  "Oh, baby."

Tentatively at first, and with an agonizing slowness, she began a
half-rocking, half-thrusting motion with her hips, sliding her mound
along the length of his aching cock.  As the tempo increased, Alan
brought his hands up to cup the firm globes of her bottom and he
gently pulled her towards him on the forward thrust, assisting her as
she ground her tender vulva harder and harder against his root.  She
began to moan then, almost sobbing with the intensity of the
sensation, and she could feel the excitement building deep within her
as she slid the tip of her clit from the base of his organ to the tip
and then back.

So tightly was she pressed against him that, when his orgasm burst,
she could feel the contractions of his urethra pulsing between her
pussy lips to stimulate her rock hard clit.  As his semen spurted,
geyser-like between them, she came herself, and cried out as the dam
exploded, racking her frame with undulating waves of powerful energy.
She collapsed against him then and he brought his arms up around
her, pulling her body tight against his as the orgasmic contractions
ebbed away.  He held her like that for many minutes and then, when
they slowly disengaged, stared at her in surprise as he saw the tears
glistening in her eyes.

"Jo...what...what is it baby?"  he asked.  A single tear coursed down
her cheek.

"Please..."  she whispered.  "Please don't say you're sad because we
did this.  Please say I made you happy."

Alan, feeling his love for her bloom in his chest, took her face in
his hands and drew her toward him.  He kissed her tenderly on the
lips and then looked into the deep, brown mirrors of her eyes.

"Oh sweetheart..."  he whispered.  "You've made me very happy, my
little love."

When he carried her into her bedroom a few minutes later she was
already heavy eyed with exhaustion.  He laid her down gently on the
bed and then drew the covers over her, kissing her once again on the
forehead.  He wanted to sleep with her, holding her in his arms, but
he knew that the time was not quite right.  He kissed her again and,
as he slipped quietly from the room, she was already breathing softly
in a deep and untroubled sleep.



Chapter 5


When Alan awoke the next morning, he was conscious of an unpleasant
soreness in the back of his throat and, by suppertime, it was clear
that he had come down with a nasty dose of the 'flu.  He spent almost
all of the next three days in bed, miserable with fever and chills,
while Jo, who had miraculously avoided the virus, did her best to
take care of him.  She brought him his medications and his meals,
although his appetite was poor, and she managed to fend for her self
very well until he finally got back on his feet once again.

On the morning of the fourth day, Alan, although still a little weak,
was beginning to feel himself again and that afternoon he took Jo to
the Mall to do some grocery shopping.  It was an unpleasantly gloomy
gray day and by the time they returned to the trailer the wind had
got up and it was starting to rain.  Jo helped put away the groceries
and then Alan announced he was going to have a shower.

"And I think I might have a bath afterward," said Jo.  She put her
arm lightly about his waist and gave it a little squeeze before
heading down the hallway to her room.

Alan took his shower and then afterward he sat reading the paper in
the kitchen while he made himself a coffee.  He could hear Jo,
singing to herself as she splashed in the tub, and several times he
imagined her naked and slick with lather as she soaped herself up.
He supposed that if he actually went into the bathroom she would have
no objections at all, but, despite their increasing familiarity and
intimacy, he was strangely reluctant about doing that.

About a half-hour later, Alan realized that he needed to urinate
quite badly.  He tried to ignore it for a while, hoping that Jo would
be finished soon, but when she gave no sign of leaving the bathroom
anytime in the near future he had to resign himself to the fact that
he would have to do his business in her presence.  Reluctantly, but
with an urgent pressure in his bladder, he headed off down the
hallway and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Heigh ho, Jo," he sung out.  "I gotta pee, I'm afraid.  He entered
the room and saw Jo lying back in the bubble filled tub.  Her hair
was wet and he could make out one pink little nipple peeking coyly at
him through the foam.

"Wow...you are getting brave," she smiled.  "You don't want me to
hide my eyes or anything do you?"  Alan blushed and crossed over to
the toilet.

"Just don't stare at me, is all," he replied.  "I'll never be able to
go if you're staring."  Jo giggled loudly.

Alan undid the front of his gown and stood, his cock in hand, willing
himself to pee.  It was silent in the bathroom now and he grunted as
he tried to force the stream to begin.

"Want me to run some water, or something?"  teased Jo.  Alan gave a
groan of frustration.

"You're not helping," he complained.  "I can feel you watching me."

"Oh...what a baby," she sighed.  Alan heard a sudden cascade of water
behind him as Jo climbed to her feet.

"Oh, Jo... I didn't mean for you to have to leave," he said.

"I'm not," she replied, simply.  "You're doing such a lousy job that
I'm going to take over."

"You're what?"  gasped Alan.

"Come on," she said, stepping out of the tub and stepping up behind
him.  "Let's get rid of this first."  He felt her grasp the collar of
his gown and then it was pulled down over his shoulders.

"What...what on earth..."  stammered Alan.  He had no chance to
finish before the gown was deftly stripped away and tossed to the
floor in the corner.

"Okay," said Jo.  "Let's do this together."  Before Alan realized
what was happening Jo had reached around in front of him and taken
his cock in her hand.  She gave it a little squeeze.

"Jo!"  exclaimed Alan, partly horrified, partly laughing in
embarrassed shock.

Oh, relax..."  Jo chided him.  She was standing very close to him now
and he could feel the warmth of her lower abdomen pressed up against
his buttocks.  She squeezed his cock a second time.  "Well....let's
go..."  she commanded.

Alan gritted his teeth and tried to force himself to pee but nothing
happened.  All of a sudden, Jo reached around him with her other hand
and pressed hard against his lower stomach, just above the pubis.

"You remember what my birthday is?  she asked him, apropos of
nothing.  Alan was confused by the sudden change of topic.

"Uh...it's May second, isn't it?"  he replied.  Suddenly, and to his
great surprise, he discovered he was peeing; the stream coming hard
and forcefully and without effort.

"There you go," giggled Jo.  She manipulated his cock, directing the
stream in circles around the bowl, and then she laughed deliciously.
"God...you guys are so lucky," she said, enviously.  Alan continued
to pee, with Jo playing his cock like a fire hose, and it was almost
a minute before the flow finally began to ebb.

"Wow...you really had to go bad," she observed.

"Yeah," agreed Alan.  "Why did you ask about your birthday, anyway."
Jo smiled.

"I just wanted to make you think of something else so you wouldn't
concentrate on peeing," she told him.  Alan was impressed.

"Jeez... that's pretty smart for..."

"For a kid my age?"  cut in Jo, pointedly.

"I was going to say...for one of my relatives," Alan laughed.  His
stream had dried up now.  He tensed his abdominal muscles to squeeze
out the last little bit and Jo gave his cock a little shake.

"Got to get it all..."  she said, her voice little more then a
whisper.  It became silent in the room then and Alan, his need to
urinate now passed, once again became deliciously aware of Jo's lithe
little body pressed up against his own.  He was also conscious of a
developing fullness in his groin as her fingers continued to shake
and squeeze his cock.

"Ooh...I think Mr. Dinky's waking up," Jo purred, teasingly.  She
gripped the shaft, making a ring of her thumb and index finger and
slid it down hard against the base of his cock.  The head twitched
and, slowly, the organ began to extend, visibly swelling as it
unfurled and stiffened.  Jo watched, entranced, her eyes glistening.
"God...that's so cool," she murmured.

Alan, incredibly aroused, felt a little unsteady on his legs and he
placed one hand flat against the wall over the toilet for support.
He was fully erect now and Jo had started to milk the length of his
cock, occasionally catching the loose outer skin of the shaft tightly
between her fingers and rubbing it back and forth over the turgid
erectile tissues within.  Alan started to moan softly.

As Jo continued to milk away at Alan's throbbing tool, she reached
between his legs with her free hand and lightly cupped his scrotum.
She began to massage the wrinkled skin until it tightened and pulled
against his body to form a hard ball and then she traced her
fingertips over the taut surface, teasing it with her nails.  Within
minutes, under these ministrations, Alan's cock seemed to swell even
larger with the head taking on an angry purple color and becoming
almost bulbous as it expanded.  He had reached the plateau phase of
his arousal and a convulsive, violent release was imminent.

"You're going to cum, aren't you?"  breathed Jo, watching the effects
of her manipulations with avid interest.  Alan could only grunt by
way of reply.  She continued rubbing and pulling at his organ and a
few minutes later he climaxed explosively, shooting his load into the
toilet bowl in four copious spurts.

"Oh...God, Jo," he gasped, his knees almost giving way beneath him.
"Oh God, my God...where did you ever learn to do that so godamn
well?"  His niece felt her face flush with pleasure at his praise.

"In Home Ec.  Class," she joked, giving his buttocks a playful slap
as she released him.

That night, after supper, the Miss Teen USA pageant was on the
television and the pair watched it together, curled up companionably
on the couch.

"What do you think of that one?"  Jo would ask him every time a
particularly pretty girl took the stage.  Alan affected a blas‚
disinterest in each girl she commented on, even though some of them
were spectacularly gorgeous, and he insisted that none of them were
remotely as pretty as her.  Jo laughed each time he said this,
obviously disbelieving him, but she was clearly very pleased
nonetheless.  Afterward, when the pageant was over, she stretched and
then got up from the couch.

"I think I'll have a bath," she announced.  "And then..."  she
continued, catching his eye, "I'm going to go to bed."

"Okay, honey..."  Alan replied.  "I think I'm going to stay up for a
bit and catch the news."

"Well, don't stay up too late," she smiled at him.  She looked at him
pointedly, lest he miss the implication and he coughed hurriedly, a
light blush coloring his cheeks.  "So shy..."  she giggled teasingly,
giving him a theatrical roll of her eyes as she left the room.

After the news, Alan took a quick shower and then carefully trimmed
his moustache.  He knew that Jo's remarks earlier amounted to a coy
invitation to come to her room but he found himself curiously nervous
at the prospect.  Before Jo had come into his life, he had had his
share of girlfriends and had always considered himself as being
fairly suave and sophisticated when it came to women.  It therefore
surprised him to no end to find himself acting like a gawky and
awkward teenager whenever he was in the presence of this captivating
young girl.  He ruminated on this curious state of affairs for
several minutes after completing his ablutions and then, summoning
his nerve, he went down the hallway and knocked on Jo's door.

"Who is it?"  came the reply.  Alan couldn't help laughing.

"It's the mailman," he said.  "Can I come in?"

"Are you naked?"  asked Jo.  Alan looked down at the robe he was
wearing.

"Am I supposed to be?"

"Only naked people allowed in here," giggled Jo through the door.

"And...are you?"

"Almost..."  His pretty niece responded, enigmatically.  A flurry of
enticing images shot through Alan's mind's eye at this tidbit of
information.

"I'm coming in," he told her, his voice a little thick.  He pulled
off his gown, tossing it through the open doorway into the bathroom,
and then, already fully erect in anticipation, he pushed open the
door.

It was almost dark inside the little bedroom.  All the lights had
been switched off and the only illumination came from a little candle
on the bedside table that bathed the room in a soft yellow glow.  Jo,
her dark hair spread out on the pillow like a fan, lay full length on
the bed wearing only a pair of pale blue panties.  Her legs were
spread open slightly and the prominent mound of her pussy pushed
against the thin fabric enticingly.

"Oh God you look beautiful," Alan whispered.  Jo smiled and beckoned
to him and he went and sat on the edge of the bed beside her.

"Shall I take my panties off?"  she asked.  Alan swallowed hard.

"May I?"  he croaked hoarsely.  "May I take your panties off,
please?"  Jo nodded, her eyes locked with his.

Alan's hands trembled slightly as he reached for the waistband of the
garment.  He tugged gently at them, as Jo raised her hips slightly,
and, rather than sliding them all the way off, he peeled them down
over her pelvis so that they turned inside out, the crotch still
wedged deliciously into the crevice of her pussy.  A soft moan
escaped his lips as he gazed at the fullness of her smooth, plump
lips.

"Gorgeous..."  he breathed.  Reverently, he bent his head toward the
juncture of her thighs and gently kissed the soft strip of flesh just
above her pubic mound.  He placed several light kisses in the same
place and then, as Jo closed her eyes to savor the sensation, he
moved downward, grazing his lips over the swollen labia beneath.

"Please..."  gasped Jo.  "Take my panties all the way off.  Make me
be naked too."  Alan raised his head and then drew the panties down
the length of her legs and slipped them off.  He put them down on the
bed.  "Do you want me to open my legs wide?"  whispered Jo, her eyes
glistening.  "So you can put your mouth on me?"  Alan nodded dumbly,
not trusting himself to speak.  "Kiss me," she said.  "Kiss me down
there, Uncle Al."

Jo drew her legs up and spread them apart, her feet flat on the
mattress.  As she did so, the outer lips of her pussy opened
invitingly and Alan could see the coral pinkness of the inner folds
glistening within.  Climbing to his knees in front of the girl, he
bent and slid his arms under each flexed leg, lowering his face to
the inviting wedge before him.  Tentatively at first, and then with
increasing passion, he began to kiss and lick the moist opening,
savoring the salty tang of his niece's secretions.

"Oh...that's so nice," sighed Jo.  She brought her hands down to her
Uncle's head, running her fingers through his hair and pulling the
source of pleasure even deeper between her thighs.  Alan, enjoying it
as much as she was, began flicking his tongue up and down her slick
little crevice, twirling it around the tip of her clitoris and
enticing the turgid little cylinder of flesh from its hiding place.
He nuzzled it gently, pulling with his lips and probing downward with
swift, darting movements of his tongue.

Barely a minute later, Jo climaxed.  She uttered a little mewling cry
of pleasure and brought her thighs tightly together, holding her
Uncle's head in their vice like grip until the orgasmic contractions
subsided.  Afterward, she lay back gasping, a narrow band of
perspiration beading the expanse of her forehead.

"Oh...that was the best," she panted.  "That was absolutely the best
ever!"

Alan, happy to have given his little niece so much pleasure, smiled
up at her.

"It was good for me too, sweetheart," he assured her.  "I could just
about do that forever..."

Jo smiled at this bit of hyperbole.  "Not just yet," she said
sweetly, patting the mattress beside her.  "It's your turn first..."

Alan clambered up from his position between Jo's legs and rolled over
so that he lay beside her.  His cock, stiff and hard, thrust proudly
toward the ceiling from his groin and Jo looked at it lasciviously as
she raised herself to her knees.  She gave him a mischievous little
smile as she reached out to enclose the turgid shaft in her fist and
then she bent over him, her hair cascading down to fall over his
stomach and legs.  He sighed and closed his eyes as she took him into
her mouth.

"Oh baby," he moaned.  She had enclosed her lips fully about the head
and was now flicking her tongue lazily over the sensitive surface.
She could only get a little of him into her mouth, so she began
pumping the remainder of the shaft with her fist, and massaging his
balls with her other hand.  Alan started to feel the first
indications of orgasm building within him and he suddenly reached for
his niece's elbow.  "Wait..."  he whispered hoarsely.  "Wait a
minute, sweetheart."  Jo raised her head and looked at him
questioningly.

"Let's finish each other together, honey," he suggested.  "Can you
climb over me so that you...so that we..."

"So we're doing...like a 69?"  cut in Jo.

"Uh...yes," he replied, a little surprised that she knew the term.
"Just like that, honey."

The idea obviously excited Jo.  In a trice, she had scooted around
and had flipped her inside leg over his head so that she straddled
him, the slick, wetness of her pussy just inches above his face.  He
could make out every fold in the delicate tissues of her inner labia
and, within, he could see the dark recesses of her vagina.  He bent
his head to the orifice as she took his cock back into her mouth.

The rich, heady aroma of Jo's arousal filled his nostrils as he began
to probe her secret places with his tongue.  From this position, he
had much better access to her vagina and he narrowed his tongue to a
little point and thrust it into the tight opening, twisting and
twirling it as he did so.  He could only penetrate an inch or so,
since the taut band of her hymen prevented further entry, but the
attentions he was paying to this limited area were enough to make Jo
squirm deliciously above him.  She moaned deeply and then started to
bob her head rapidly as she pumped his swollen cock with both her
mouth and her fist.

Alan tried to hold off as long as he could and when he finally did
cum it was only a fraction of a second before Jo.  His cock gave a
sudden convulsive jerk and, as the first spurt of his seed gushed
into Jo's waiting mouth, she bucked her hips furiously whilst the
waves of pleasure exploded through her.  She continued to suck as she
orgasmed, emitting muffle grunts and consciously willing herself not
to bite down as she milked the last few drops of semen from his
pulsing cock.

In seconds, it was all over and the pair lay beside each other in the
shadows of the candlelit room, slowly recuperating from the power of
their encounter.  Jo fumbled for Alan's hand and squeezed it tightly
in her own, pulling it tightly into her chest.  He smiled at her and
then his eyes suddenly narrowed as he caught sight of the glowing red
display of her alarm clock.

"Well...what do you know," he said, as the digits clicked over to one
minute past the midnight hour.  "It's now officially my birthday."

"Your birthday?"  queried Jo.  She reached up and patted him lightly
on the chest.  "Well, well..."  she whispered coyly.  "We'll have to
make this an extra special day, won't we?"



Chapter 6


In honor of Alan's birthday, Jo insisted that she be allowed to cook
him a special supper.  She had been taught to cook spaghetti with
meat sauce by her grandmother but she was unsure of the recipe so she
consulted her Uncle's sole cookbook for some ideas.  Later, before
lunch, Alan drove her out to the Mall so that she could purchase the
necessary ingredients.

As they pulled into a parking space outside the shopping center, Jo
turned to Alan as though wanting to broach an important subject.  She
hesitated for a moment or so and then shyly told him that she really
wanted something special to wear for the evening but hadn't brought
anything appropriate with her.  Alan, who was familiar with her
limited wardrobe, smiled at her and said he could probably manage to
help out if it meant that much to her.

"The only thing is..."  she told him, " is that it's supposed to be a
surprise.  So..."  she added, with her cutest of smiles, "you can't
come with me, okay?"

"Alright, alright..."  sighed Alan, shaking his head with
good-humored resignation.  He reached for his wallet and fumbled
around in it for a moment before handing her fifty and four tens.
"You can bring me the change... if there is any," he told her.

"God...thanks, Uncle Al!"  exclaimed Jo, with a little squeal of
delight.  "I'll pick out something special...something I know you'll
really, really like!"

After the groceries had been purchased, Alan occupied himself window
shopping while Jo went off and took care of her surprise.  When they
met in the center court of the Mall an hour later, Jo was carrying a
couple of bags from two different stores and looking very proud of
herself.  She giggled when Alan asked to see what she had bought and
told him to mind his business.

"That's for later," she told him.

The pair shared a quick lunch of tuna fish sandwiches once they
arrived home and then Alan busied himself at the computer while Jo
began her preparations for supper.  She chopped celery, carrots and
onions, saut‚ed her ground beef and tomatoes, and added garlic
seasonings with abandon until a delicious aroma began to pervade the
whole trailer.  She emerged, about an hour later, wiping her hands on
a dishtowel.

"Smells great, honey," Alan told her, looking up from his work.

"Yeah," she replied.  "The sauce is all done.  It's turned off now,
but I can heat it back up when I boil the spaghetti later."

"Excellent," said Alan.  "I can't wait."

For the remainder of the afternoon, Jo watched a movie on television
and then retired to her room to read.  Alan finished the work he had
promised himself he would get done and then he went to his own room
for a nap.  Jo shook him awake a little later.

"Wake up, sleepy head," she cooed.  She was wearing her bathrobe and
her hair was still wet.  "Why don't you wash up and change while I
get ready?"  she suggested.  "I've still got to get changed and
stuff."

Alan promised he would get up right away and when she left the room
he levered himself up off the bed and groggily fumbled around for his
robe.  He took a quick shower and then, remembering Jo's new outfit,
he selected a nice pair of slacks and a clean white shirt to wear.
He splashed on a little after-shave as a final touch and then he went
out to the kitchen.  Jo had not finished getting ready yet, but he
noticed that she had set the table very nicely.  She had begun with a
pretty print tablecloth he had forgotten even owning and, in between
the two place settings, was a candlestick holding an unlit tapered
white candle.  She had even folded a pair of napkins and placed them
on the little side plates beside the forks.

While he was waiting, Alan was suddenly struck by a thought and,
after searching through several cupboards, he located a small bottle
of wine that had been given to him the previous Christmas.  He was
just opening the bottle to let it breathe when he heard Jo come into
the kitchen behind him.  He turned around to face her, still turning
the corkscrew, and, when he saw her standing there, his jaw almost
dropped to the floor.

"Oh my god, Jo..."  he exclaimed.  "You look fantastic!"

Jo smiled at him, pleased with the effect of her entrance.  She was
wearing the simple black dress that she had selected, after much
picking and choosing, at the Mall that morning.  It hung almost to
the mid-thigh level and it clung to her slender form most
attractively.  She twirled to give him a full viewing.

"You like?"  she asked.

"Oh god, yes," Alan replied.  "You really spent your money well."  Jo
gave him a coy little smile.

"Oh...that's not all I bought to wear," she told him, as though
holding on to a special secret.  Alan was immediately intrigued, but
he decided to let her reveal whatever she was holding on to in her
own time.  "Why don't you light the candle," she suggested.

Alan finished uncorking the wine and then lit the candle while Jo
started boiling the water for the pasta.  He took two wineglasses
from the cabinet over the sink and then poured them each some of the
wine.  He took an investigative sip from his own and then handed Jo
her glass.

"Wine?"  she asked, in some surprise.

"Sure," smiled Alan.  "A little bit won't hurt... Just sip it
slowly."  Jo sampled it cautiously.

"Um...it's not bad," she commented, after a pause.  "Kinda funny
aftertaste or something, though."

"That's the dryness of the wine," Alan told her.  "You'll like it
when you get used to it."

The supper turned out to be excellent and they each had second
helpings of the delicious meat sauce.  Afterwards they sat and
chatted in the candle light for a while and Alan even poured Jo a
second glass of wine.  He kept an eye on her, however, and wisely
avoided giving her a third when he noticed that she was just
beginning to get a little flushed.  He finished the rest of the
bottle himself and then discovered he was feeling pleasantly warm and
comfortable.

"Like to get a little fresh air," he suggested.  Jo agreed and they
took their glasses out onto the little wooden deck and sat down.  It
was dark out now, and the air was getting quite cool.  They sat in
companionable silence and looked up at the stars winking in the
velvet sky above their heads.  Jo finished the last mouthful of her
wine and stared into the bottom of the glass for several minutes.
Finally, she raised her face to his and spoke.

"Uncle Al," she whispered.  "Take me to your bedroom... please."

Although the brief walk through the darkened trailer took only
moments, it seemed an eternity to Alan.  He followed Jo through the
shadows, his pulse beating loudly in his ears, and when they reached
the bedroom door she took his hand and led him in.  He entered and
pushed the door closed behind them.

"I want you to get undressed first," she told him, her voice low and
husky.  Alan nodded, too caught up in his anticipation to speak.  He
quickly shucked off his clothing with trembling hands and tossed them
into the corner as Jo watched.  When he was done she motioned him to
a chair against the wall and invited him to sit.  "Watch me..."  she
whispered.

There was enough moonlight shining through the window for Alan to be
able to see Jo very well.  She stood before him, in a shaft of the
silvery light and began, slowly and seductively, to remove her dress;
carefully loosening the zip and then sliding the thin garment off
from her shoulders and down her trim little frame.  Her breasts
jiggled a little as they were freed from the material and they jutted
out proudly from her chest, the nipples already stiff and hard.  Alan
swallowed hard as he watched her and then gasped as she pulled the
dress over her hips and let it slip to the floor.

Beneath the dress she wore a very skimpy, and very diaphanous pair of
panties that she had obviously purchased that morning.  They
consisted of a narrow white strap encircling her waist and a tiny
'vee' shaped panel of a thin, gauze-like material that only just
encased her little mound.  When she spun slowly for him, enjoying his
rapt attention, he saw, with a sudden leap of his heart, that the
rear of the panties were nothing more than a thin strip that snaked
down to disappear between the plump cheeks of her bottom.

"Oh...my Christ," he finally managed to exclaim.  Jo smiled at his
response and then felt her own little thrill of excitement when her
eyes dropped and she saw the visible manifestation of his arousal as
it stood out stiffly toward her.  She stepped toward him.

"Do you like them?"  she asked.  Alan nodded dumbly, his eyes fixed
between her legs.  Although it was dark in the room, it was still
bright enough for him to plainly see the delicious little fold of her
pussy crack through the flimsy material.  The sight made his cock
feel heavy and full.

"Very much, sweetheart," he nodded.

"Do you want to watch me take them off?"

Alan did not have time to reply before she started to slip the tiny
panties down over her hips.  She let them slide to the floor and then
she stepped in between his legs and sat down on his left knee, her
arm coming up and over his shoulder.

"Touch me," she whispered.

Alan drew his naked little niece closer to him and kissed her lightly
on the lips.  He placed his right arm about her waist and his left
hand over her knee, squeezing it softly before sliding the hand up
the inside of her thigh.  His palm grazed lightly over the soft skin
and Jo shivered in anticipation as the fingertips slowly edged toward
the twin pads of flesh nestled between her legs.  It was silent in
the room now, except for their slow, steady breathing.

Gently, Alan cupped Jo's smooth mound and wiggled the middle finger
against the narrow cleft, burying it between the folds as he teased
the plump little lips apart.  Almost at once, he felt the stiff point
of her clitoris pushing against the flat underside of his finger and
he began to slide it up and down the crease, feeling the wetness
begin to flow.  Jo moaned softly and parted her legs even wider for
him.

On each downward stroke, Alan allowed his finger to slide a little
lower until he could feel the tip resting at the vestibule of her
vagina.  Keeping his palm flat against her vulva he bent the final
joint upwards and let it slide inward, penetrating the slick warmth
of her cunt.  He held the digit in place for a moment and then began
to slide the tip very slowly in and out, allowing it to tickle and
tease the delicate folds of her inner lips.  The sensation was
incredible, both for him and his niece, and Jo, her eyes closed
tightly shut, laid her head down along his shoulder, allowing the
hotness of her breath to wash over his collarbone.  Alan continued to
finger her, slowly and lovingly, and then she spoke.

"Uncle Al," she said, the voice coming huskily from deep in her
throat.  "I want it to be your cock that's inside me."  Alan froze
for a moment as her words shot through him like an arrow.  "I want
you to fuck me," she told him.  "On the bed...I want you to fuck me
on the bed."

A whirl of conflicting thoughts and emotions suddenly made Alan's
head almost spin.  He was consumed with an overwhelming desire to
bury himself deeply in this gorgeous little angel, but he couldn't
help but have second thoughts when he considered the tightness of her
virginal twelve year old pussy and his fully developed adult cock.
He raised her head from his shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes.

"Oh honey," he said, his voice almost catching with the intense
emotion of the moment.  "I want that very much; Very much indeed.
But I'm afraid that if we...if we are together that way, then I might
hurt you...and I don't want that ever."  Jo raised one of her fingers
and placed it gently over his lips.  She shook her head indicating
her mind was already made up.

"I know it will hurt a little at first," she told him.  "But I want
my first time to be with you...and I want it to be now.  Please take
me to your bed...Please."  Alan, his eyes magnetized by those of his
lovely niece, nodded his head slowly.

"If we do this, honey," he began, "I want it to be easy for you...I
want you to be on top so you can control the speed and I don't hurt
you...okay?"

"Okay, Uncle Al."

Jo slid off his knee and he stood then slipped over onto the bed.  He
laid there, his erection straining toward the ceiling in excited
anticipation, and then Jo climbed up beside him on her knees.

"I love you, Uncle," she whispered.

"And I love you too, babe," her Uncle replied, watching her intently.

Jo, her breathing deep and heavy, lifted her right leg over Alan's
waist so that she straddled him.  She leaned forward and placed the
palms of her hands on his chest, squatting her hips slightly so that
her mound pushed up against the underside of his cock.  She rocked
back and forth a little, riding the plump saddle along the length of
his shaft and making him moan at the sensation.

"Are you ready?"  she whispered, her own arousal now blooming within
her.  Alan reached up to brush back the strands of hair that head
fallen forward over her face.

"Yes, baby...if you are," he told her.

Trembling slightly, Jo lifted herself up so that Alan's cock sprung
free and pointed up beneath the underside of her crotch.  She lowered
herself then and carefully positioned the purple and swollen head so
that it nestled against the moistness of her outer lips.  She held
herself in that position for a moment or so and then allowed her
weight to sink down onto him.

"Oh sweetheart..."  moaned Alan.  "Oh my baby..."  He grasped her
waist to steady her and then watched, wide-eyed, as the tip of his
cock slowly spread the thick outer lips and began to slip inside.  It
sank deeper, a fraction of an inch at a time, until the head was
almost completely engulfed and he could feel the obstruction of her
hymen preventing him from going deeper.

"Oh...ah," grunted Jo, her teeth gritting from the intensity of the
feeling.  She began to wiggle her hips, trying her best to force him
deeper inside her, and her forehead began to break out in a light
band of sweat.

"Easy babe," cautioned Alan, a little concerned.  Jo responded by
shaking her head almost violently.

"No...no.  Please...don't stop me," she gasped.  She continued
pushing herself down onto him, twisting herself this way and that
until, suddenly, she cried out as something gave way and her Uncle's
cock slid deep inside her.  It plunged into her depths, stretching
her wide and filling her with it's turgid, throbbing girth, and then
the head was pressing hard against the tight little ring of her
cervix.

"Oh, god...you're inside me," she moaned.  "You're all the way up
inside of me, Uncle Al."

The heat of the little girl's pussy was delicious and the velvet
tightness of her slick vaginal walls gripped Alan's cock like an
incredibly tight glove.  He groaned at the sensation and then allowed
his hands to slide down the cheeks of her bottom in order to pull her
gently toward him.  She responded to this cue and slowly raised up
her hips, pulling her groin away from his so that the incredible
suction formed by their union pulled up on the skin of his cock,
drawing it tightly along the inner shaft.

"Oh dear Jesus..."  exclaimed Alan, his eyes almost rolling back in
his head.  The tightness of Jo's virginal cunt was now milking him
with exquisite slowness as she started to rock on her hips, allowing
the length of him to slide in and out of her sopping hole.  She
raised her self up far enough so that the head almost escaped the
tight grip of her lips and then she would sit down again, forcing the
thickness of his organ all the way into her depths.  Alan tried to
fight the inevitable consequences of this sweet torment but in less
than a minute and a half he gave a loud cry of ecstasy as his cock
spewed its hot load up into her slippery chasm.

"Oh Uncle..."  cried Jo as the sudden pressure of his ejaculation
filled her.  The tightness of her cunt and the immense volume of his
cum forced the viscous liquid back out along the shaft of his
erection, making him seem even bigger inside her and bringing her to
a sudden, explosive orgasm.  She cried out again and the rippling,
wave-like motions of her vaginal walls as they pulsed in climax,
squeezed him mercilessly and sucked the last few drops of his semen
from his cock.

In moments it was over and Jo, panting heavily, her whole upper body
slick with her sweet perspiration, collapsed to lie full length
against him, his cock still deep inside her.  They lay like that for
almost ten minutes and then Alan kissed her.

"My lover," he whispered tenderly.  "My sweet little lover."

When they awoke the next morning, they were wrapped tightly in each
other's arms, although neither of them could actually recall when
they had climbed beneath the covers.  Alan's reaction, when he
discovered Jo's lithe little frame pressed tightly against his own
was predictable and Jo woke up to find his freshly erect cock pushed
tightly between her thighs.  She gave a little sigh of pleasure and
was just reaching down between her legs when the harsh scream of the
telephone startled them both alarmingly.  Groaning in frustration,
Alan reached for the phone.

"Hello," he said.  There was a pause and then he sat straight up,
causing Jo to look at him in concern.

"Oh...Mildred," he exclaimed.  "How are you?"  He looked down at Jo
with a frown.  "No...no.  She's still asleep actually...Yes...Yes it
has been.  How's Tom?"

There was along pause during which Alan nodded and grunted several
times, his face frowning as he concentrated on what Mildred was
saying.

"Tomorrow?"  he asked finally.  "Uh...well, yes...sure.  No, that's
no problem.  No....Okay then, Mildred...I'll see you then."  Jo poked
him as he hung up the phone.

"Well...what is it?"  she asked.

"It's your grandma," he told her.  "She's coming tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes," replied Alan, suddenly realizing the implication of the call.
"She's coming to take you back home."



Chapter 7


"Gramma's taking me home?"  exclaimed Jo, gaping at her Uncle in
dismay.  "But I don't want to go home.  Not now... It's too soon."

"I know, kiddo," replied Alan glumly.  "But I don't see where there's
much we can do about it."

"Can't I stay here... Please?"

"I'd take you in a minute, honey.  But your grandparents will want
you back again...and their home is your home after all.  You've got
school there... your friends..."

"But I don't care about any of that," said Jo, almost in tears at the
prospect of having to leave.  "I could go to school here...and you're
my friend...the only one I care about or need."

Alan put a comforting hand lightly on Jo's shoulder and gave it a
squeeze.

"I hear you, sweetheart.  I really do... but, realistically, you had
to go back sometime...we both knew that."

"I know," replied Jo, shaking her head ruefully.  "But now...after
we've...well, you know...it just seems so unfair.  Couldn't she have
at least gave us some more warning than just one day?"

"Yeah," agreed her Uncle.  "That is unfortunate.  It would have been
nice if we had some time to make the most of everything."  He thought
for a minute.  "You know... you said you wanted to go fishing
again...we could do that today if you like."  Jo considered the
suggestion and then shook her head.

"If we've only got one day left," she told him, "I'd rather spend it
right here with you."

"In bed?"  he laughed.  "Jeez, honeybuns...you've got a pretty
optimistic view of my abilities."

"I don't mean just in bed, you idiot..."  giggled Jo.

"Good," replied Alan.  "Because I could use a shower, actually."  Jo
pricked her ears up at this and slid quickly out of the bed.

"Last one in's a rotten egg," she squealed and was gone.

By the time Alan had levered himself up to his feet and left the room
he could hear the shower already running.  He walked down the hallway
to the bathroom, not bothering with his robe, and stuck his head
inside the shower curtain.  Jo was standing there under the stream,
her head bowed and her arms folded across her chest so that her hands
grasped the opposite shoulders.  She looked back and smiled at him as
he slipped in behind her.

"Not bad," she said.  "It's not that long ago you would have a hairy
fit if I even came into the bathroom when you were in the shower."
Alan smiled at the memory.

"I guess you've been a good influence on me, honey," he said,
reaching for the soap.  He rubbed the bar vigorously between his
hands and worked up a good lather.  When both hands were covered with
the thick foam he placed them against Jo's back and started to
massage gently in small, slow circles.  Jo dropped her head even
further on her chest and sighed softly.

"That's nice," she said, her eyes closing as she relaxed in the
steamy warmth.

Alan finished lathering up her back and then he reached around her,
sliding his palms across the flat of her stomach.  As he started to
move his hands upward, Jo uncrossed her arms and reached out to grab
the taps, allowing him free access to her breasts.  He slid his hands
over them and gently rubbed the lather into the soft little mounds,
feeling the nipples stiffen under his palms.  His cock also became
erect and Jo arched her back so that the hard rod pressed insistently
against her tight, deliciously rounded buttocks.

"Do my breasts hard," she moaned, her voice almost getting lost in
the steady hiss of the water.  Alan, feeling a sudden little rush of
excitement at her request, started to tweak the hard little nubbins
of her nipples, rolling the stiff points between each thumb and
forefinger.  As he did so, Jo rose up slightly so that the head of
his cock slid down between her legs and then she lowered herself
again, trapping the whole length of his shaft between her butt
cheeks.  He leaned in toward her, wedging his penis even more deeply
into the lovely cleft, and she clenched her buttocks together
tightly, trapping him in an exquisite vise-like grip.

"Harder," Jo gasped as he continued squeezing her breasts.  He began
to increase the pressure, pulling and tugging at the nipples with
mounting vigor.  He was afraid of doing it too hard but the little
whimpers of pleasure she was emitting clearly signaled her enjoyment
so far.  She started to press her bottom hard against his groin and
then, when he thought he might pass out from the erotic sensation,
she suddenly gripped his wrist with her right hand and spoke.

"Put your cock in me," she said, urgently.  "Please put it in me
now..."

Because of the difference in their heights, the angle was a little
awkward and Alan had to be very careful.  He squatted down slightly
and then thrust his hips upward so that his penis slid up between his
niece's legs.  As he did this, she reached down under herself with
her free hand and guided the tip into the moist crevice formed by her
swollen pussy lips.  He leaned forward into her, gently at first, and
then suddenly found himself sliding inside her delicious warmth.  Jo
gasped loudly and gripped the taps tightly as she felt her knees
beginning to buckle beneath her.

"Oh yes..."  she groaned.  "Put it all the way into me, Uncle Al."
She started to make tiny thrusting motions backward with her bottom
and Alan pushed forward to meet her.  His throbbing spike plunged
into her again and again and he held her tightly about the waist,
almost lifting her up and down on top of him.  As the point of no
return came upon him, his penis swelled even further, filling Jo's
cunt to its limit, and she came before him, shuddering as the
powerful waves burst over.  Seconds later, gripped by the tight
contractions of her pussy, Alan came too, grunting as he spurted his
seed deep inside her.

"Oh Jesus," he panted, after the last contractions had subsided.
"I'm not sure if I'll be able to walk after that."  Jo giggled,
barely able to straighten up herself.

"What will Gramma think if neither of us can walk," she chortled,
causing Alan to roll his eyes dramatically at the thought.

"Wouldn't that be interesting," he replied.  "I think it would be a
long time before you got to visit again, my sweet."

The rest of the day passed all too quickly and that night they made
love again, this time in Jo's bed with Alan on top.  He was very
gentle with her and took great pains not to overwhelm his little
niece with his weight.  As he leaned into her, she brought her legs
up around his waist and then she locked her ankles just below the
small of his back.  It was sweet and beautiful to make love to his
little angel face to face, and when they came at the same time they
locked their lips together and probed each other's mouths with their
tongues.  It was sweet and beautiful and would have been perfect but
for the fact that it was to be their very last night together.

It would have been nice if they could have had the whole of the next
day together, but Mildred arrived shortly after ten o'clock and made
it quite plain that she needed to get back on the road as soon as
possible.  Alan was quite afraid that Jo might get suspiciously
emotional when it came time to say goodbye, but though she was pale
and tight-lipped during the last few minutes, she managed to keep her
composure.  They hugged briefly and Alan told Mildred that Jo would
be welcome any time.

"Well, goodbye then," he said, his voice much heartier than he felt.
His eyes locked with Jo's for one brief instant and then she was
gone.  Alan closed the door and sat down heavily at his breakfast
nook, his eyes stinging with the tears he was fighting hard to hold
back.



Epilog


The telephone call with the awful news of Tom's death came at two
o'clock in the morning.  Alan, still groggy, listened to Mildred
explain how an unsuspected aneurysm had burst while Tom had been
bowling with friends, and clucked sympathetically when she told him
that he had probably been dead before he hit the ground.  He was
shocked, of course, and though it was a little difficult to mourn a
man you never really knew that well, he felt a real stab of pain for
how poor Jo must feel.  He wondered if she was there in the room with
Mildred and, as he thought of his young niece, Mildred herself turned
to the subject of the girl.  Alan listened politely, and with growing
interest, as she hesitantly broached a difficult subject.

No... of course not.  He realized the awkward situation she was
in...and he didn't think she was being presumptive.  If she needed
his help he would be glad to oblige...even over the long term.  She
mustn't worry about such things...if Jo was too much of a worry right
now she ought to send her down.  School?  No...of course school
wouldn't be a problem.  He'd get her enrolled right here next
week...all she need do was make the travel arrangements.
Tomorrow...sure.  She could call in the morning and he'd give her a
time.

Alan set the telephone back in its cradle and lay there in the dark,
hardly believing what had happened.  The death of Tom was terrible,
of course, but the chance to have his sweet young niece back with him
was more than he would have dared hope for.  He hugged his pillow
tightly against his chest, imagining Jo's sweet young form, and when
he eventually fell asleep it was to dream the most pleasant of dreams.


                            --- THE END ---

