Chapter 8

I knew Caitlin would want to sleep with me again that night. I should say I expected her to want to do that. And when she came to my room, naked, I felt compelled to do something about it.

"Sweetheart, you have no idea how good it makes me feel that you want to do these things with me and sleep in my bed, but that is a very bad idea tonight."

"Because you want more," she said.

I was astonished. For someone so young, she was very astute.

"Yes," I said.

"I understand," she said. "Can I still have an orgasm before I go to bed?"

Said the spider to the fly.

"I guess that would be okay."

Said the fly.

Which is how she ended up lying next to me, her hot skin pressed against mine. Her breast felt like it was on fire where it touched the side of my chest. She wiggled up for kisses.

She was sly about it. I know that now. She disarmed me, and used my vulnerabilities to manipulate me.

"Thank you," she said, after half a dozen kisses.

"Any time," I said, and kissed her again.

"I mean about letting us practice on you," she said. She reached for my cock and stroked it gently. "It was a lot harder than I expected."

"You three made it that way," I teased.

She squeezed Mr. Happy. "You know what I mean."

"I guess I'm glad you did it," I said.

"Why wouldn't you be glad?" she asked.

"Because all I could think of while that was going on was all of you doing it with some boy. I killed a lot of teenage boys in my imagination this afternoon."

"Awww," she said, jacking some more. "You're jealous!"

"I am," I admitted.

"Of a boy I've never even met," she pointed out.

"But I know you will meet him," I said.

"How about this," she suggested. "How about when I find that boy, I bring him to you for your approval? I won't put a condom on a boy until you approve him."

"You'll die a virgin," I sighed.

She giggled.

"I don't think so."

Such an innocuous, common phrase. You hear it all the time. It merely expresses mild disagreement with a concept. "I don't think so." We hear it so often that it means almost nothing. We almost ignore it.

I shouldn't have ignored it when she said it, though.

Not that night.

Not in that situation.

"Can I have my orgasm now?" she asked, still stroking.

"Yes," I said, wishing I could have one while she had one.

"I want to try something," she said, her voice light.

"What?"

"It's something we sort of did last night," she said.

"What?" I asked again.

Her answer was to climb on top of me and settle her pussy down on the bottom of my rigid penis, pressing it to my abdomen and trapping it between us. She reached to spread her slippery labia, until they straddled my column. Then she leaned forward and, while she scraped her clitty along my shaft, she painted that shaft with a shiny coat of excited girl juice.

"Ohhhh yeah," she groaned, moving in short strokes, up and back again.

The fly said nothing. It just sat there, stuck to the web, watching the spider pleasure herself.

"I like this," she said, her voice full of passion.

"Careful," I said as her opening settled on top of the head of my cock, and ground into it. It felt like a blanket, fresh from the dryer had been spread all over the tip of my cock.

She slid back, moaning and then back forward, to settle on the tip of my cock again like a hen settles on an egg.

"I like this a lot!" she panted.

"Careful," I panted back, as her hips did a little circular thing that moved the head of my cock sideways and back again. All I could think of was how good it would feel to spurt, and how dangerous it would be to spurt right into the opening of her vagina.

She leaned down, but kept her hips working. Now she was massaging her clit on the head of my cock.

"I don't want to be careful," she whispered. "I'm tired of being careful."

"What?" Lightning zapped right from the top of my head to my balls, leaving a sizzling streak of terror in its wake.

"I want more too," she whispered.

And then she kissed me, and I felt her right hand leave the bed beside my head, and go between us. Her hips lifted, and she gripped my cock and, as she shoved her tongue into my mouth, she shoved my cock into her pussy. She pushed back on it hard, and after some initial resistance, during which her tongue in my mouth got as rigid as my prick was, I slid into her like a knife into a tub of margarine.

Only then did my hands come up to grip her rib cage and push her away from me.

All she did was sit bolt upright, which settled her entire weight on my hips.

And drove the tip of my prick to the entrance of her womb.

"Owww," she complained softly, as her cervix was pushed against.

"Stop this right now!" I said.

"I don't think so," she said, for the second time in fifteen minutes.

This time I listened to her.

"Kat, honey, you have to get off. This is wrong."

"It doesn't feel wrong," she said, giving her hips an experimental wiggle.

"Your mother will kill me," I groaned.

"Who's going to tell her?" asked the naked girl whose pussy was beginning to squeeze and release around my penis.

"You didn't put a condom on me," I groaned.

"It's okay," she said, as her hips lurched forward and back like a belly dancer. "It's a safe time."

"There is no safe time," I groaned.

"Stop talking," she ordered. "This feels really good. Don't ruin it for me."

"Caitlin!" I groaned.

To keep me from talking, she simply leaned down and started kissing me again.

I could literally feel her orgasm as it rushed through her. I could feel it in her lips. I could feel it in the way she rubbed her breasts against my chest. Most of all I could feel it as her internal muscles munched on my cock like a camel chews its cud.

And, as she expressed her delight verbally, into my mouth, Mother Nature grinned happily as my balls bunched and I jetted hot streaks of semen deep into Caitlin's sex.

Right where it belonged.

Or didn't belong.

I admit I was a little confused as it happened. It's confusing to love doing something with all your heart, while your mind lays into your conscience with a willow branch.

Caitlin was not so ambivalent about things.

She went limp on top of me, her hair covering my face, and her lips right next to my ear.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I love you so much."

Well ... what can I say?

There are events that happen in very little time, and which change everything for the participants. It happens all the time, every day, continually. Most of the time it happens to somebody else. If you think about it, you'll remember some of those events yourself. Some of those events are big, like when they announce who won the election of the president.

But most of them are small, affecting only a few people ... such as an uncle, and the niece he just fucked for the first time.

Yes, I know the context of that sentence is upside down, and that she actually fucked me, if one wants to be legalistic about it. But that's not how her mother would have interpreted things. Of course, had Hannah actually been there, then she would have understood how blameless I was in the defloration of her sweet, innocent daughter.

But she wasn't there, and the actual course of events, and the language that went with it, would never be revealed within her hearing.

But, for the first few seconds after I fertilized Caitlin, I actually felt pretty blameless.

Until you take into account what I said four paragraphs ago. Did you catch that? Did you see how I ended that sentence?

" ... for the first time."

After I enjoyed the crap out of having just cum in a girl I loved, and after those few seconds in which I blamed it all on her rash, hormone driven decision, I realized instantly that this was only the first of many times we'd do this. At least if I had anything to say about it.

I don't cry over spilt milk. And she really had been an eager participant. And at the end, she hadn't sounded even one iota unhappy.

Still, it was just a little awkward, lying there with her draped over me, my penis still barely in her as it softened and crept out of her pussy like a thief in the night, trying to sneak away from the scene of the crime.

I thought about saying, "You're welcome," but that sounded silly in my mind. I was still trying to think of something to say when I heard the first of her soft snores in my ear.

She wasn't so much heavy as she was "solid" on top of me.

Nothing itched, so I let myself drift off to sleep.

We woke up a little later. I don't think it was because the light was still on. Rather, I think she got cold. She slid off of me and reached for the bedspread, which I'd thrown aside before she got there. Once she pulled that up over us, she snuggled her head onto my shoulder again and went back to sleep.

Now you have to understand here, that when I said this event had changed everything, I was serious.

I had resisted her efforts to explore sex. I know you probably don't remember it that way, and a jury of my peers probably wouldn't think that was true either, but it was. I had not dived into these waters with abandon. Was I a bit culpable? Yes. But I had tried to put on the brakes at various points.

All that changed.

Had she told me, the night before, "Uncle Bob, I think I'd like to try fucking, would you do that with me?" I would have argued against it. It's quite possible I'd have kicked her out of my room.

All that had changed.

Before this, I had thought of her as my beautiful, talented, headstrong niece, a girl in her teenage years, who was available only in fantasies.

That had changed.

Now she was a woman, pure and simple. She was still Caitlin. She was still beautiful, and talented and headstrong. But somehow, in my mind, what had happened changed her from "Caitlin, my teenage niece" into "Caitlin, my above-the-age-of-consent lover."

This became evident to me when I woke up the next morning with a typical morning hardon and decided almost instantly that I didn't have to go all that badly, and I wasn't going to waste such a magnificent boner.

So I got up on my hands and knees, and crawled over her, where she had rolled onto her back during the night. I sucked her nipples until she moaned, something I hadn't yet done to any of the musketeers. She moved, waking up and, suspecting that at least some of that dangerous, slippery sperm I'd spewed into her six or seven hours ago was still hanging around, I just started pushing my prick into her once-fucked pussy without so much as a how-do-you-do, or permission of any kind.

Things had changed for Caitlin too.

Her hands came to my hips and pulled.

Turns out that sperm doesn't hang around as long, or at least isn't as slippery, as I had thought. Mind you, this was the first time I'd gone back for seconds without at least some preparation, but I recognized very quickly that things were entirely too tight in there for me to just shove things in.

Still, her hands on my hips, pulling, suggested she wasn't feeling any pain yet. And that's one of the good things about having a foreskin. When you are jumping the gun, lubrication wise, that foreskin will stretch only so far before it says "Whoa the fuck up there, cowboy, or you're going to tear something!"

So what I ended up doing was fucking the first inch and a half in and out of her entry while her hands left my hips and came to pull my face down to hers. I flinched, thinking of morning breath, but then our lips were touching and our no doubt stinky tongues were dueling. But at that point you couldn't tell things would benefit greatly from a toothbrush. When you think about it, what we were doing at that moment is probably what all homo sapiens sapiens did before somebody invented the toothbrush in the first place.

And as she got excited, her own body provided the oils necessary for my little lunges to become longer ones, until, at last, I hit bottom and my pubic bone crushed her clit. The impossible-to-describe feeling of being buried in sweet, hot pussy, results in a relatively natural desire to stay buried, which is what I did, and there is also a natural desire to get just a little deeper which, in my case, resulted in a sort of wiggle that rubbed the crap out of her crushed clit.

Her reaction was, to put it lightly, spectacular.

I hadn't yet lowered all my weight on her. But when her knees cocked, and her hips jerked up, a groan of ecstasy such that I had never heard from any woman, caused the cave man in me to just breed the fuck out of her. To that end, I let my elbows flex until my entire weight ensured she couldn't wiggle out from under me and escape.

Not that she was trying to escape, of course. Rather, her heels lifted and slammed down on my butt, pulling like her hands had been pulling earlier.

What followed was as inelegant as any lovemaking has ever been. In fact, I hesitate to even use the term "lovemaking" for what transpired, except for the fact that while I did what I did, I was aware of who I was doing it to, and that I had fallen head over heels in love with her. I had loved her before, but now I couldn't live without her.

Anyway, what happened was that I couldn't bear to pull out of her. I was so stiff, and wanted to be so deep in her, that all I did was lunge and move, all the time trying not to retreat from the ground I had conquered. I guess that did things to her clit, because her chirps and whines and grunts of happiness got louder and longer until she wailed right in my ear, almost deafening me. There was a period of exquisite pain in my groin as my prostate tried to allow the passage of semen through my urethra, while the sphincter of my bladder fought to keep things closed off. It actually felt like something broke as my seminal fluids rushed to complete the act of breeding. It was ecstasy, punctuated by terror that I wouldn't be able to keep from peeing inside her. That terror, in fact, caused me to do a military grade pushup as soon as I had deposited my seed, and I fairly leapt off the bed and ran for the bathroom.