Current news prompted this little morsel
The BBC and other channel news reels went on and on for days, with the British obsession with the weather, even with not a snowflake to be seen and normal early Spring weather all around. Some tabloid had christened it ‘The Beast From the East’ because the Met Office knew the freezing cold and snow was coming from Siberia. It arrived four days later than it’s title and did cause a tremendous mess of traffic and logistic problems because even though they had warned us it was severe, we all thought Yeah! heard it all before. We hadn’t - well, not for about seven years had such doom day news and the general consensus on the streets was that in 2010 it wasn’t as cold as The Beast which had it’s admirer from of all places Portugal helping it be more vicious.
My Mum phoned and we went through all usual weather stuff, and she being from up North had experienced bad winter virtually every day through November till March. It just didn’t seem to happen these days. Probably the deadly global warming and anything else the politicians and The Daily Mail could conjure up. “You’ve got a big four car haven’t you Ernie?” she asked, in all innocence of the make and nature of my Mitsubishi Shogun, parked on the road outside. After all the corrections and explanations, I had been given the choice of picking up Jenny my 15 year old niece and getting her to an examination venue in the next town seven miles distant or calling on Gertie my Nan to see if she was alright and the carers were doing their job. The choice was difficult as I adored them both. Jenny was the cutest, most excitable, most street cred, gorgeous little bundle of fun you could wish for. Gertie however was an early, yes early at 58, victim of Dementia and half the time didn’t know who I was ... or anyone for that matter.
My work load was little and clients had called me off because of ... yes you guessed, so in the end I told my mother I would do both, calling my sister Cath to say I was coming for Jenny. If she’d been older I would have cum for Jenny in an instance, particularly if she was sucking my cock or I was shafting her. The girl is ... not that she knows it yet ... Hmm! Maybe she does; sex incarnate. She is a stunner with long auburn hair that has natural golden highlights, slim but wiry, wears a training brassiere under everything, more the pity as I used to ogle her boob growth from the twelfth of April 2015 when I first registered that the bumps under her white school shirt were titty bumps. I was amazed at how early can they start to develop. Now Jenny sported lovely little cones, high and wide ... and I wish I knew what her cup size was ... purely for academic reasons you understand. And yes I have a fixation.
I do keep a diary, more a journal of her juvenile growth spur ... no mustn’t say spurts, fuck! Said it. Summer bikinis at family BBQs, trips to the seaside, just lounging about in gardens during our many gatherings, fired my journalistic non-skills accompanied by numerous photos and videos of her, some she and Cath knew about, some not. When I look back and jerk off, there’s a lot more photos and videos than text.
Outside in my Caterpillar boots, jeans, T shirt under sweater under fleece hoodie and Liverpool Supporter scarf I tread carefully. to the Shogun, cursing the fact the council or any neighbours hadn’t cleared the snow and ice from the pavement. I was far too busy. “Mornin’ Sue,” I acknowledged the cheery wave from my next door neighbour, fiddling with a bright red kiddy sledge. I could see her problem with the pulling cord so I sauntered across to help. Not quickly, and it wasn’t the state of the pavement slowing me. The silly, flat chested, slender but two month pregnant figure, mid 20s housewife was in the front garden, wearing only a kind of one piece housecoat over bare legs, fluffy beige slippers and a light feathery scarf. I mean how daft is that? Dougie her little boy wailed and screeched as it seemed the whole street were on their way to the park, all dragging some method of sliding down the slopes ... and falling in the snow.
My reason for merely strolling was the stunning view I had up the back of Sue’s dress/coat where she bent at the waist, rather than squatting. I would think squatting is better than bending ... if you’re not expecting your third child. Did I care? Did I fuck! The lower edges of her bum were beautifully bare and white, not as white as the dirty snow around her, but you know what I mean. Between those lush globe was a dark gap, but I couldn’t tell if she was wearing a thong, briefs or nothing at all ... although there was no VPL, so that narrowed it down a tad.
I joined Sue, Dougie stopped his caterwauling for a little while when I took over. The cord needed a double knot after stringing it round an elaborate bracket. Easy! “Gosh thanks Ernie,” Sue gushed. “I don’t know what I’d have done, Tristram is away at the studio in Salford till tomorrow night ... what can I get you Ernie?” “I think just take your self inside Sue, you must be freezing dressed like that, never mind me.” She grinned. “Honestly Ernie, I don’t really feel the cold that much, I’m OK at least for a few minutes, especially sorting him out,” she thumbed at Dougie who was joining a happy family he obviously knew ad she did... “Well keep him ... or her warm and cosy in there,” I nodded at her belly which was hardly showing. “Oh yes I will Ernie,” she chuckled hugging it as they do, giving me the chance to spot the elastic of a thong across her front when she smoothed the house coat, and was that a popped belly button? “You off to work Ernie?” Sue was one of those people who said your name a dozen times in a two sentence conversation and irritated me, but for this pleasant diversion in the morning... ?
“No Mum’s given me a mission. First of all take our Jenny ... you know Cath’s girl to a college in Fareham for an exam, buses are buggered and there’s a strict timing for her, then pop over and see if my Nan is OK.” “Lots to do then Ernie,” she simpered. I distinctly got the impression I could have done her with the signals she was giving out. It was tempting. “Why haven’t the collage cancelled it with this weather Ernie? Would make sense, I mean the kids are on a snow day,” she told me, flicking her fingers each side of her face as quotation marks. I had to agree and also had to cease lingering with the neighbourly example of sweetness and light. I spoke my leaving and drove away. I should have asked about Tristram but wasn’t bothered. He’s such an arrogant know-it-all prick.
I was a bit late getting to Cath’s, evident by her and Jenny anxiously peering out of the front windows. They both rushed out to meet me, my sister telling me she was due on Ladies Circle railway trip to Bath that hadn’t been cancelled and wouldn’t be back till about five at best. The ray of light that is Jenny climbed in the car and off we went. The chat flowed non-top and we arrived to see a few people coming out, some arriving like us and a sort of dead unlit feel about the place. Jenny climbed out and immediately found some friends. An animated conversation took place and for some reason I sensed something wrong. I was right when for once there was a very annoyed look on her face when she came back to the car. She told me the college was closed, and a new date would be fixed.
I cursed and told her to go in and check for herself which she did and soon we were returning home. I loved it when she did her mass of hair this way. Piled up on top of her head, wisps flowing freely down the nape of her neck and round her ears. The lion type of mane, was wound together and fixed with what I could see were a couple of clips but it gave her truly grown up appearance. She used my mobile to call Cath and told her everything and I took the device and said I would check up on Jenny later, round lunchtime and maybe take Jenny to McDonalds. That went down well on all counts. With the hands free I called the carer and got the deep rich rolling tones of one of two who cared for Gertie. He told me everything was fine and he was staying put, meeting a colleague there, reorganising because of the weather where they would stay put sorting paperwork with a supervisor who was meeting them at my Nan’s because it was convenient so they’d be there for most of the morning.
Jenny was a bit subdued in the trip back, because she was looking forward to the test having boned up on the facts in detail, she really wanted to be a Vet, in a few years time. She had a virtual zoo menagerie of pets in the back yard. Getting back to her place, the snow hadn’t been cleaned away as well as some places, probably because Cath’s place was in a small cul-de-sac of twenty four semi-detached council houses. Council properties maybe, but getting the streets clear another matter. I eased to a crunchy halt on the ruts and slush. Jenny clambered out, as I did, accepting her offer of a cup of tea. I was free for the day and a few extra moments with this teenage goddess was a no-brainer.
Like all youngsters, instead of walking she trotted up the concrete path and just as she reached two two tiled steps up to the front door, she slipped on ice and skidded arse over tit rolling onto her back. I helped her up. She groaned and sobbed, grabbing a knee and then her butt. I grabbed the key and helped her indoors, along the passage to the kitchen. Tea was forgotten. Cath had a three seater couch in the kitchen on the grounds that meals were to be properly eaten at the dining room table and not at the breakfast bar which was always cluttered.
“That was some bang darling,” I told her, taking her briefcase and anorak. “Yeah and it hurts Ernie ... Ooooh!” she whimpered, Cath and I told her ages back not to call me Uncle, looking at her knee. I could see blood seeping through her black tights. She stiffened up and rubbed her back, low down. “There as well? Don’t think you’ve broken anything.” I suggested. She shook her head. “Tell you what lets have a look at your knee, it’s bleeding, might need a dressing I can do.” Jennie agreed, stood, turning her back and peeled down her skin tight pants having kicked off her trainers. Drooling as her pink pantied bum came into view, then those long lissome legs and finally her black ankle socks. I grinned at the red M&S label not tucked in at the back. There was a squeak when she got to her injured knee but down they came. She glanced down to her knees, then turned and sat. There was a nasty gash right on the cap of her left leg and skin was torn away. It wasn’t a risk to her leg but needed sorting. With difficulty knowing I was go to tear myself away from her luscious limbs and go up to the bathroom, I learned from her there was a First Aid box in the kitchen cabinet behind me.
I put some water in a bowl, got the box and with some cotton wool, dabbed at the damage. Jenny squeaked and winced, but there was no way I was going to hurt her. It came as clean as possible and luckily her tights had prevented any grit and dirt infiltrating her wound. All the time, my eyes were trailing from the source of her pain, up her slender thighs to the neat clutch of cotton at her crotch. She managed, as women do to keep her knees tightly together and splay her lower limbs for me to administer a dressing and then a bandage to keep it in place. Awkward on very active joint. While I was doing my medic bit Jenny would tense up and wince, clutching her butt.
“There is something else isn’t there. Lets have a look,” I told her. “Ernie its...” “Let’s just make sure it’s no big deal. Go on up to your room and I’ll be up in a second with the first aid kit.” “Ernie, it’s...” “Just go,” I said firmly, anticipating my niece’s protest. “Fine OK ... going,” she replied, petulantly holding her hands up palms to me ... A few minutes later I joined her to find Jenny was sitting kind of awkward on the edge of her bed, legs hanging down. “Let’s see, I said. A quizzical look appeared on Jenny’s face. “No kiss?” she said. “What are you talking about?” “Daddy and you always used to kiss my cuts and bruises and say, ‘A kiss to make it all better.’ You don’t do that any more?” “Jenny, are you serious? First of all how often am I here at the precise moment as Dad. Second, You’re 15. A grown girl. I don’t think you want your uncle kissing your pains any more, anyway where?”
She stood and turned to point out a nasty blue black mark on the right side of her right buttock level with the top of her crack. Her panties were slimline so all was visible,,,, oh oh that crack!. I had to tense my dick or scream with anguish at that point. She pointed to her bruise. “Here ... look, it’s alright,” she said, twisting and gazing down at me,” Only a bruise, no cuts, it’ll heal over,” It was certainly alright. It was delicious. Her bruised teenage flesh glowed in it’s natural pinkiness, the darkening dimple and lengthening gap leading down into her crack inviting and very very tempting. “Kiss it please Ernie.” “You’re joking Jenny?” “No Unc. You did a great job on the cut and made it all better. This bruise hurts too.” “Darling it’s a bruise. What’s a kiss from me going to do?”
Her swivel was swift and dramatic, reaching her arms round my neck and kissing my face. “There I’ll kiss you then.” she chuckled. Her young heat was amazing as she melded her slender body into every crease, fold and crevasse of mine. Twelve years between us, under age, a close relative, my sister’s child was coming on to me so strongly what could I do? Trying to avoid that tender and ugly spot on an otherwise unblemished bottom I hugged and returned her affection - her sexual affection judging by the way she was grinding her groin on the top of my thigh.
Jenny sank in my arms, stooping to loosen my flies, stripping my groin and legs in no time. Her hands gripped my dick, shooting back and forth. I was hard in seconds. Her mouth engulfed my knob, the sucking sounds juvenile, much more than an experienced gobbler would create but she knew the ropes. I retreated to the edge of the bed and slouched. Jenny followed me down without losing hold or suck. I wanted to take her young body in my arms, naked and caress - explore places of an age I had never known.
“Jenny darling, come up here and turn round,” I whispered, beckoning. She got the message and climbed, my cock intact in mouth, twisted and swivelling, to ride me 69 style. How did she know these things?
Her pink panties were eased to the side and the beauty and wonderment of a teenage twat was there for my delectation. A perfectly neat slit with a sliver of inner labia peeking out at the bottom. A dense smattering of brown hairs covered the whole of her pubic mound. Above was her sphincter, surrounded with the same lush garden. For all her youthful beauty and perfection, Jenny’s arse hole was quite ugly - if I could ever judge arse holes in that way - difficult! She had two sort of nodules round the uneven twisted slit of her hole, one at the top, the other at about four o’clock is the only way to describe their position ... as if it mattered.
I shot a massive load into her mouth at the point I raised my head to lick her little twat. I heard her gulping my spunk. Inadvertently I touched her bruise and Jenny jolted and slapped my hand away. “Sorry darling, heat of the moment ... come here.” I chuckled. Slowly she manoeuvred herself until we were face to face, her face a mess of sweat spit and cum. She licked her lips with relish, bending to kiss me in a lovers tongue searching kiss. I reached round her bum, successfully avoiding her bruise and found her arsehole first. “No Ernie ... please, that’s private,” she murmured. My finger sought the holy grail. Because she was straddling me, her cunt felt it was a gape and I gingerly pushed inside. “Sorry Ernie, I’m a virgin as well. Just play with me please.” she whispered. Her tone was so apologetic, it was if one day I would get there. My fingers danced on her sweet young mott which raised some lovely squeaks, murmurs and kisses.