Chapter 5: A Trip to the Mountains

As expected, we had a great Spring season. The Devils played in three tournaments and won two of them. The third was our big adventure—a major tournament in Virginia with some of the best teams in the country. We didn’t win that one, but we did well. We had two wins, and our only loss was 1-0, against a team from Ohio that went on to win the tournament. As it turned out, two of the players on that team eventually played for the US Women’s National team. Yeah, we were swimming in the deep end.

At that event, I saw people walking around carrying clipboards and notebooks, and wearing shirts with the names of colleges on them. They were coaches, assistant coaches, and scouts, but our players were too young for them to pay much attention to. There was a rule in those days that prevented college coaches from contacting players until after their junior year of high school. Still, I noticed a few who paused for a moment to take a peek at the Devils on their way to other games. It was encouraging to think that some of our players were attracting attention that would hopefully pay off in a couple of years.

I would give you a more detailed description of the team’s exploits that season, but if you’ve read my narrative this far, I’m pretty sure you’re not interested in that, so let me get to the “good stuff.”

After our season was over, I asked Amy if she wanted to do something special to celebrate. I was expecting, maybe even hoping, that she would request another beach vacation, but she had another idea.

“Can you get that cabin from Ben again?” she asked.

Ben was my boss and a good friend. He owned a cabin on a lake in the North Georgia mountains that he let me use occasionally. Amy and I had gone there when she was twelve, and she enjoyed it so much that I had promised her we would go again someday. Apparently, someday was now.

I knew Ben rented it out frequently, but when I asked, he told me it was available for a few days in early June and said I could use it. I was looking forward to spending some time alone with my rapidly maturing niece. Then the other shoe, or the other panties, dropped.

A few days after I told Amy the dates of our trip and checked with her parents to see if it was okay, she called me one evening and asked, “Ben’s cabin does have three bedrooms, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” I didn’t know why that was important. Two was plenty for us, maybe even one.

“Good. I want some friends to go with us.”

My disappointment was hard to hide. “Why?”

“Because it’ll be fun. Don’t get mad, Jeff.”

She knew me too well. If you remember back to the beginning of my tale, I told you I could never say no to my darling niece, even now when she was growing into an often annoying teenager. “What does ‘some’ mean?” I asked. “Ten, twenty?”

She giggled. “No, silly, just two. And you know them.”

That’s when I knew the friends she was talking about had to be Devils. “Okay, who?”

“Sam and Milllie,” she said, confirming my worst fears, or my most exciting dreams—my three temptresses alone with me in the woods. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Had Amy planned this before she even asked about using Ben’s cabin? I guess a smarter man might have seen it coming.

We left town at nine on a steamy Thursday morning. Depending on the traffic around Atlanta, it was about an eight-hour drive to Ben’s cabin, and I wanted to be there before dark. We were going to be gone for four days, so my minivan was stuffed with girls, luggage, and snacks. The girls slept for a while, but I knew their teenage energy would soon be on full display.

After a couple of hours of peaceful driving, I pulled into a rest area. When everybody came back from the restroom, complaining about the odor, of course, I handed the keys to Amy and asked if she wanted to drive. She had her learner’s permit, and I had been giving her driving lessons. She had only driven around city streets, but traffic on I-75 that morning wasn’t too bad, and I was confident that she was ready for some interstate driving. I told the other girls, now fully awake, to stay quiet and not talk to Amy. She did fine, with some gentle reminders from yours truly. We stopped just south of Atlanta for lunch and to change drivers. Even after driving for twenty years, going through Atlanta still made me nervous, and I didn’t think Amy was ready for that.

We made it to the cabin before six, which gave us about an hour of daylight. Sam and Millie jumped out of the van and ran around the outside of the cabin to look at the lake. Amy and I went inside to check things out. The first thing I did was look in the three bedrooms. They were all ready to use, thanks to Marjorie Taylor, the retired schoolteacher Ben paid to keep the place looking nice. Amy started helping me bring in some of our supplies, then she yelled out the back door for the other girls to help. Within a few minutes, we were all moved in.

I thought the issue of who got which bedroom might have to be decided, but the girls had figured that out even before we left town. “Millie and Sam get the two guest rooms,” Amy told me, “you and I can share the big bed in the main bedroom.”

“Is that a good idea?” I asked.

She smiled. “Don’t sweat it. They already know what goes on between us, so what’s the big deal? You like sharing a bed with me anyway, don’t you?”

Hell, she had me there. I most certainly did like having her as a bedmate.

I was beginning to prepare supper—nothing fancy, just burgers and fries—when I heard a familiar “Yoo-hoo” from outside. I looked up and saw Mrs. Taylor standing outside the screen door leading to the back deck. I walked over and opened the door.

“Mr. Wilson,” she said, “so nice to see you again. I just wanted to check and see if everything was okay.”

“The cabin looks fine, Marjorie, like always.”

“Ben said your niece was with you. I haven’t seen her in ... what, three years?”

“Hi, Mrs Taylor,” Amy said as she came around the corner.

“Oh my, you’ve grown.”

“Kinda hard to stop them,” I said. That’s when Sam and Millie decided to see what was going on and joined us.

“And who is this?” the somewhat nosy Mrs. Taylor asked.

“These are my friends, Sammy and Millie,” Amy told her.

“Hello girls. Are your parents with you?”

Before I could answer, Amy said, “Nah, it’s just the three of us, and Uncle Jeff, of course.”

Marjorie gave me a funny look, which I tried to ignore. “Three teenage girls,” she muttered. “I hope you survive.”

“Me too,” I told her. I wasn’t joking.

The rest of the night started normally enough. The girls quickly discovered that the outdoor antenna Ben had installed didn’t provide a wide selection of channels, so I showed them the collection of DVDs that Ben and some of his renters had left behind. It took them a few minutes to agree on an action flick none of them had seen. I left them sprawled out in the living room and went to the bedroom that Amy and I would be sharing. Being an optimist, I had brought a couple of books I was looking forward to reading, so I settled on the bed and started the latest Stephen King novel.

The drive must have worn me out, because I fell asleep before I got more than ten pages into the King epic. What woke me was the sound of the shower in the cabin’s small bathroom. Good, I thought, at least the girls are mature enough to take care of themselves without being told, even on vacation.

I walked through the living room on my way to the kitchen to get a soda. I had considered bringing some beer, but I decided I needed to stay sober, and I didn’t want to deal with any drunk teenagers. Amy and Millie were watching the movie, so I knew Samantha must be in the shower. I got my drink and went back to sit with the girls and watch the last part of the movie.

I had just settled down when Sammy came out of the bathroom. She was wearing a pink nightgown, longer and less revealing than the one she had worn when we shared a room at the tournament several months earlier. It might have been longer, but when she sat down and put her knees up, her spectacular legs were again on display. She glanced my way quickly, as if to reassure herself that I was paying attention to her.

Amy was the next one to head for the shower. Then it was Millie’s turn. As soon as Amy and Sam heard the water running, they turned to me, and I knew something was up. “We need to tell you something about Millie,” Amy said.

“Are you gonna tell me she’s a serial killer, and now we’re trapped in a mountain cabin with her?”

“You watch too many horror movies, Jeff,” Sam said. “Get serious.” I didn’t know when she had dropped ‘coach’ and started calling me Jeff like Amy did, but I guess it was okay after what we had been through together.

“Okay, this is me being serious now. So, what’s up with Millie?”

“Ever since the day you ... uhh ... helped her with her hamstring, she’s had kind of a crush on you. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed,” Amy explained.

I had noticed it, but I had been trying to ignore it. I didn’t need another teenage lover, or so I thought. “So, it wasn’t such a good idea to bring her along?”

“No, that was my idea, and it was a good one,” Amy said.

“Tell him the rest,” Sam prompted.

“Millie wants you to take her virginity. She’s been talking to Sam and me about how good a lover you are,” Amy said.

“Of course she has. Is there anybody on the team who you haven’t told?”

“Calm down, Jeff,” Amy said. “Remember, you aren’t exactly innocent when it comes to Millie, if what she’s telling us about that day at the picnic is true.”

“So, what’s your great plan? Are we just gonna have a big orgy here, and if my dick happens to end up in Millie’s vagina, well - oopsie.”

“God, that’s a little gross, even for you,” Amy snapped. “No, Sam and I have a better plan. When Millie comes out, we’ll tell you what it is. We just need you to go along with it and not freak out.”

Before I had a chance to answer, the bathroom door opened, and Millie came out. She was wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt that she had bought at one of the tournaments. The sweatpants were a good idea. Even though it was June, there could still be some chilly nights in the mountains. Her short red hair, still damp from her shower, was sticking up in places. It almost made her look demented, but I knew she was just a devil, both on and off the pitch.

She saw that we were all looking at her and asked, “What’s up?”

“We came up with a fun thing to do while we’re here,” Sam said. “It doesn’t seem fair that Amy gets to share Jeff’s bed every night. So, we’ve decided to take turns. It’s Amy’s turn tonight, I’ll take tomorrow, and Millie, you get Saturday night.”

Millie smiled and looked at me. “Are you all right with this?” Maybe it was the shower, but it looked like she was blushing a little when she thought about spending a night in my bed.

“It might be fun,” I admitted. Then I asked, “What about Sunday?”

“We think you should rest then, like God,” Amy giggled. “You’ve gotta drive home Monday anyway.”

That was the end of the discussion. I yawned and said, “It’s been a long day, and we’ve got a lot of things planned for tomorrow, so I think it’s time for bed.”

“Yeah,” Sammy said, “He can’t wait to get between the sheets with Amy.”

“No, I’m just tired,” I sighed. I went to the bathroom and took a quick shower. It had to be fast because the girls had drained the hot water tank. When I came out, the living room was empty. It looked like the girls had taken my hint and gone to bed.

When I got to my bedroom, Amy was already in bed, with a sheet pulled up to her chin. She was grinning at me, and I knew that no matter how tired I was, it might be a little longer before I could get any sleep. Just to annoy her, I slid into the empty side of the bed and curled up in a fetal ball with my back toward her, and closed my eyes. It didn’t take her long to see through my ruse. “You’re not trying to ignore me, are you?”

I rolled over onto my back and told her, “Sweet Amy, you know I could never ignore you.”

She scooted over and pressed herself against me. I was a little surprised to feel that she wasn’t naked under the sheet as I had assumed. “We have a problem,” she said.

“What?” I asked, almost fearing the answer.

“My period started a few days ago. It’s only the third time I’ve had one, so I’m not exactly used to the timing.”

“Do you need any...?” I asked.

“No, I have all the pads and stuff I need. And, it might be a good thing anyway.”

“Yeah, maybe I can get some sleep?”

“No, wiseass. There’s something different I want you to teach me tonight.”

Different? That was exciting, but also a little scary at the same time. What wild idea had she heard about from her naughty teammates? I hoped she wasn’t talking about anal. It’s not something I have much experience with, and I certainly didn’t want to steer Amy in that direction. I rolled over so we were facing each other, and asked, “What?”

“I want you to show me how to do a blowjob.” she declared, like she was asking me how to cook a steak properly.

“God, I hate that word, blowjob,” I said. “It’s so ... brutal, like something guys force women to do. You know there isn’t any actual blowing involved, right?”

“Does sucking cock sound better?” my formerly sweet, innocent niece asked.

“No. I prefer fellatio.”

She giggled and said, “That sounds like an appetizer at the Italian restaurant my parents like to go to.” Her hand found its way to the waistband of my shorts, and her fingers started burrowing into my boxers like a groundhog digging a tunnel. “Whatever you call it, I just want to try.”

“Okay,” I said. I reached down and pushed my shorts and boxers down, giving her access to my quickly swelling cock. Resistance, as they say, was futile.

She crouched next to me, gripped my shaft, and leaned forward. She hesitated, as if unsure what to do next. “Lick it first,” I told her. “Get used to the taste, and make it good and wet before you put it in your mouth.”

She didn’t as much lick it as slobbered over my taut skin, then spread her saliva around with her hand. Again, she hesitated, and I knew she was waiting for further instructions from me, her fellatio instructor. “Okay, now, put your lips over the head and slide them down slowly. Not far, just over the head, and be careful with your teeth.”

She looked up at me and said, “That’s where you pee too.”

“This was your idea. Sex isn’t always roses and orange blossoms, sweetie. Blame God for the faulty design,” I laughed. “Look, you used to like popsicles, right?”

“Still do,” she smiled.

“I’ve watched you. First, you break it apart. What do you do next?”

“I put half of it in my mouth and just let it melt for a few seconds.”

“Before you bite into it?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, treat my dick like that, without the biting part.”

“I hope you’re orange. I like the orange ones,” she said.

I settled back and just let her figure it out from then on. Amy knew better than to try to do too much, no gagging or choking, just a nice smooth bobbing of her head while her lips gripped me tightly. When I began to feel my climax building, I stopped her. “I don’t think you want me to cum in your mouth this time. That can come later.”

“Are you close?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I moaned. “Just use your hand to finish me.”

With my dick nice and slick with saliva, her soft hand seemed to just float over my sensitive skin. The sensation was unique and certainly did the job. My orgasm was one that a sixteen-year-old would have been proud of.

Amy sat back and stared at her handiwork. “Geez, you were right. I think I would have thrown up with all that in my mouth.”

“So, can we get some sleep now?”

This time, she agreed.

The next morning, I was the first one up. I made a cup of coffee and sat on the back deck, enjoying the view of the lake and the mountains behind it, all lit by the rising sun. I heard a commotion in the kitchen and went back inside to find Amy and Millie fixing breakfast. It was a pleasant surprise, and when I told them that, Amy said, “We’re not kids, Jeff. We can take care of ourselves. Now, sit down and enjoy your bacon and eggs.” Samantha came out a few minutes later, looking as if she were still half asleep. At least she was quiet, no wisecracks or innuendos.

After breakfast, we drove into town to get more supplies for the rest of the weekend. When we came back, the girls wanted to try out the two canoes next to the cabin. Sam and Millie had no experience with those tricky watercraft, so Amy and I split up. Amy and Sam were in one canoe, and Millie and I were in the other one, everyone wearing life jackets, of course. There was a small island in the middle of the lake, and we took a slow lap around it, a good first outing for beginners. We accomplished it without anyone falling in, which I considered a triumph.

After that, we had lunch. I wanted to take a nap, but the girls were still full of energy, so we went for a hike through the woods near the cabin. We didn’t see any deer or bears, which disappointed Sammy, who had brought her camera in hopes of taking some wildlife pictures. By the time we made it back to the cabin, everybody, not just me, was ready for some quiet time.

Later, when it was time for showers, I reminded everyone to make them short so we wouldn’t run out of hot water. It seemed to work. That night, I enjoyed a lukewarm spray, better than the frigid water I had endured before. When I came out, Millie and Amy were still in the living room, watching another movie. Amy looked up and said, “Your girl of the night is waiting for you. Try not to make too much noise.” I detected a bit of jealousy in her tone, which made no sense because this whole rotating partners thing was her idea. But - teenagers, go figure.

I didn’t say anything, I just went to the bedroom. Sammy was sitting on the bed, wearing the same short, blue nightie that she had worn the night she had seduced me in the hotel room. And yes, I still consider her to have been the seducer that night, even though I could have stopped things at any point. She stood up and did a quick pirouette, showing off the nightgown.

“Remember this?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” I told her. “I remember a lot about that night.”

She stepped forward and embraced me, and we shared a nice, romantic kiss. It was as if she were trying to convince me that she was a grown woman now. After our embrace, she stepped back and ran her hand across my groin. When she felt my swollen cock, she smiled and said, “Do you always get hard when you see me?”

“When you’re dressed like this, yes,” I admitted, “but thankfully it’s never happened at a soccer field.”

She giggled. “Yeah, that would be embarrassing.” She reached down and grabbed the hem of her nightgown, pulled it up over her head with one smooth motion, and threw it on the floor. She hefted her breasts and declared, “My boobs are still growin’. Do you like them? My mom has D-cups and I think I’m gonna be like her in a year or so.”

“They’re wonderful,” I told her. I reached out and tweaked her nipples a little, just because she seemed to want me to.