Chapter 1

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Uncle, Niece, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Voyeurism, Slow, .

Desc: Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 1 - DM's attempt to do a favor for his sister and her daughter, DM may earn a favor or two of his own. [Story codes added as they occur]

If you have read any of my other stories, you know things have a way of happening to me that seem to spiral out of my control, despite my best intentions. My intentions, no matter how honorable, always seem to get turned around to bite me. Fortunately, this has seemed to have pleasurable results. I hope that will continue to be the case.

As usual, it all started innocently enough. My wife and I had decided to relocate our family to the Ozark mountain area. My sister had moved there 7 or 8 years before with her family. We didn't necessarily move to be closer to them, but that is how it worked out.

Shortly before we moved, my sister's marriage broke up. Frankly, I was surprised it lasted as long as it did. They didn't ever appear to have any particular affection for each other, but what can you do. One thing she did get out of the marriage was three beautiful daughters. The oldest (Ashley) was 18 when we moved down, the second (Jenny) was 16, and the third (Ellie) was 11. We had lived about 400 miles apart, so we didn't get to see any of them but about once per year, maybe. Basically, the girls didn't grow up seeing me once a month, or anything like that.

My oldest niece was basically grown and out of the house. She would occasionally show up at our little family gatherings after we moved down, but not always. I got to see the younger two way more often.

With the divorce and such, my sister obviously didn't have a lot of extra money to throw around. As the time came for her second daughter to need Senior Pictures (which can be ridiculously expensive), she asked me if I would try to take them for her. I don't think Jenny was super excited about the idea. It's one of those things where it can be stylish to have your pictures taken by a certain photo studio. But at the same time she recognized the realities of the situation. It didn't hurt that my sister promised that, if they didn't turn out to everyone's satisfaction, she would bite the bullet and take her for at least a small package of pictures.

I am not a professional photographer, by any means. I fall into the category of what I would call "advanced amateur." I have a fairly nice camera, a few other pieces of equipment (flashes, etc... ), and I know how to change the settings to get good results. In a move that isn't normal for our family at all, we had started this process in the middle of Jenny's Junior year, so we had plenty of time. Usually, we try to get things arranged at the last moment.

One thing about the Ozarks is that there are many beautiful locations to use as a backdrop for her pictures. The only unfortunate thing was that there is a fair bit of driving necessary to get from site to site, sometimes. For that reason we decided that we would split our efforts into at least two or three "sessions," heading a different direction each time. Those two factors, more than any other, lead the events that happened.

In any case, on a nice weekend in late spring we got in my Suburban and headed off into the hills to take some pictures. The dogwoods were in full bloom and we had no trouble finding a patch of them to use as a backdrop.

To her credit, my niece took the whole process in stride and I think even started to see some advantages, provided the pictures were halfway presentable. First of all, we had essentially unlimited time. She didn't feel like she had to be in a hurry because the photographer had another session or anything. She also could work in nearly unlimited outfit changes. I had thought ahead and made a curtain area that could hang from the liftgate of my Suburban to give her a place to change. She also had a fair amount of creative input as to how she wanted to pose and where she wanted to be. This can be a touchy subject with some photographers. We didn't have to worry about how many shots we took, or anything, so if some didn't work out it wasn't a big deal.

We took about 20 or 30 shots in the dogwoods and I had her come look at them. I looked over her shoulder as she paged through the camera's display. She liked some of them, enough that she was more than ready to get back to work on taking more shots.

For my part, I was in a slightly different world. I knew what most of the shots looked like already, so as she was looking at the pictures, I became distracted by other things. The first thing was her perfume. The sweet scent rose off ... well wherever she put it. It suited her perfectly. After my attention had been turned I noticed that, while I was looking over her shoulder I had an very nice view down the front of her shirt. It wasn't obviously hanging open or anything, but I could see the gentle swell of her breasts and an occasional peek of the edge of her bra when she would move one of her arms to point something out. The last thing I noticed was the sheer heat of her body. I could feel it radiating against me as I stood behind her. It was all I could do to not put my hands on her waist and pull her against me and bury my face in her hair.

It took a few minutes for her to page through the pictures. After she was done, she decided a change of outfits was in order. I set up the curtain and moved away to give her some space. My mind wandered to the activities of the previous few minutes. I'm not sure what I had expected. I've always been fond of, shall we say, observing girls about that age. It didn't hurt that she was gorgeous. She was very petite but still had a few nice curves. If it tells you anything, she was on the cheerleading team and was one of the girls that they would boost into the air (or throw, or whatever they needed).

I happened to glance back toward the truck and noticed for the first time that I didn't make the curtain go all the way to the ground. It ended just about her knee level. I was looking her way just as I saw her slide her jeans off. The tan of her lower legs and feet did nothing to quell the small, but growing desire to see much more of her.

I watched with keen interest as she slipped a pair of shorts over each foot and pulled them up. After a few minutes of other activities that I couldn't see (she must have been changing tops), she opened the curtain and stepped out.

The shorts highlighted her legs perfectly. They weren't cut incredibly short, but she had such long lean legs that there was plenty to feast my eyes on. On top she had a sleeveless tee shirt that showed off a similar expanse of bare, tan arm. She had pulled her hair back and the neck of the top scooped nicely. I could only imagine kissing the smooth tan skin from her ear down into her cleavage. I shook my head to try to clear that image and heard her giggle. For the first time I noticed that she was looking at me and waiting.

"Ahhhhem," I cleared my throat, "Ready?"

She giggled again and walked over where she wanted to take the next set. I followed as I tried to keep my eyes from roaming up and down her body (newsflash, I mostly failed).

She stopped and I just let her pose as she wanted while snapping the images. I would sometimes direct her to turn slightly or raise her chin or some such thing to get a better angle on something. I hope it was for better images, but I suspect it was at least sometimes for a better view for my own sake.

A couple of times she didn't seem to understand exactly what I was asking her to do. The first time I walked over and re-positioned her arm. Sliding my hand ever so lightly against her smooth skin. The second time I couldn't get her to turn her shoulders/torso just right, so I turned her shoulders and moved my hands to her waist to tilt her just a bit. Her eyes were searching mine as I touched her. I was not sure what she was searching for, and I was very scared of what she might find.

The rest of the session continued in a similar manner. We didn't say much to each other while we were shooting, and we just made small-talk while we were driving or sat in silence. During the silent times, my mind would wander (as it often did when I was driving, anyway), to the various views I had of her body throughout the day. The angles of her slender arms and legs. The curve of her neck and waist. The huge blue eyes and cascade of honey blond hair. Occasionally, I would need to return from my reverie to make a turn or to respond to something she had said. It always took me a second to shake the images out of my head and make the proper response.

When I dropped her off at home, she bounced around the back of the truck and I opened the liftgate so that she could retrieve her clothes. She had basically left everything she had worn strewn around the back of the truck and I watched as she gathered them and stuffed them back into her bag. They were just clothes, but I could help but imagine the parts of her that had recently been in them. It led to another series of pleasant thoughts.

This time my thoughts were broken by a "Thanks Uncle DM! That was fun!" as she threw her arms around my neck for a hug. I was with it enough to reciprocate (without going further, fortunately) and we parted ways with plans to get together again in a couple weeks.

I sat in the driver's seat for a few seconds and sighed deeply. Pleasant thoughts of my niece still floated around my head (and I could still catch a whiff of her perfume now and then). I started the truck and started to drive home.

I very much looked forward to our meeting in a couple of weeks, but I was sure it would just be a repeat of that day's events with just a different backdrop.

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