I’m no pervert. But I’ve got to admit that I lusted after my niece Becky even before the first moment I saw her in the flesh on her 14th birthday. Her father was my wife’s brother, Dave. Her mother Freja was a Danish woman Dave had met while working for a global company headquartered in Europe. Freja was a devastatingly beautiful blonde with deep blue eyes and pure white skin. Her daughter Isabella was the spitting image of her mother. Her dad nicknamed his daughter Becky, and the name stuck.
My wife Mabel and I had rarely seen Dave and Freja even before Becky was born. The couple visited the US annually, but usually limited their visits to New York and California. They almost never visited the small city in the central US where my wife and I had our businesses. I ran a small, home-based technology consulting company in a highly-specialized business-to-business space. My wife had a small law practice. Since neither of us had staff or business partners to share our workloads, we were pretty much married to our jobs as much as to one another. Maybe that’s why we never had kids.
Dave and Freja always sent us Christmas cards from Europe. After Becky was born, their Christmas cards began including family photos. I was immediately taken with my little niece. My wife and I often talked about taking a vacation in Europe, or perhaps flying to New York or California when Dave and his family were there. But somehow, it never happened.
Until the summer that Dave and Freja brought Becky to New York for her 14th birthday. They rented a house in a tony part of New York’s Long Island called East Hampton. That’s when I finally saw Becky in the flesh. She was amazing. Gorgeous young face, sparkling deep blue eyes, long golden hair, small budding breasts, slim waist, long coltish legs, and the most spectacularly shaped young butt I had ever seen on a child.
I must confess that after I saw Becky in her bikini at the beach, I had to go back to the rented beach house and masturbate. That’s the only way I could relieve the enormous erection this golden child had caused me.
Becky was remarkable not only for her beauty. She also had a certain coquettish nymphet quality that was more knowing than her actual age. Maybe I was imagining it, but the kid seemed to come on to me every time no one else was looking. I began to wonder if she had already had sex. Maybe with some teenaged boy? Or ... maybe with her own father?
I couldn’t be sure, and I figured I’d never know. I thought I would just keep my secret, precious erotic fantasies of my untouchable niece for the rest of my life. And I suppose things would have stayed that way if the accident hadn’t happened.
My wife Mabel, her brother Dave, and his wife Freja were hit head-on by a drunk driver on Montauk Highway when they were driving home from the grocery store. Everyone in both vehicles died instantly. The shock and horror of this was beyond belief. It took weeks and weeks for Becky and me to come to terms with it. Even then, it was not something we could ever forget. But there was something else we had to deal with, too: I was Becky’s only living relative on either side of the family. Mabel and I had been named as Becky’s guardians in case her parents died. Since Mabel was also dead, that made me Becky’s sole guardian.
Death of a loved one is a terrible thing. On top of that, suddenly becoming the parent of a precociously erotic nymphet that I already had the hots for was a terrible temptation. Even worse was when Becky’s behavior soon removed any doubt in my mind that the child also wanted me. I hadn’t been imagining it: the 14-year-old kid really did come on to me as soon as the grieving period was over. What could I do? What should I do?
I knew that I had to remove temptation before it got the best of me. I shipped Becky off to a Catholic girls’ boarding school as soon as I could. She didn’t like that one bit. Neither did I. But I preferred it to the prospect of me going to jail for having sex with an underage girl.
Becky lasted only three months at the school. She wrote me long, pleading letters, begging me to let her come “home.” She promised not to try to seduce me. I wrote back, at much shorter length, choosing my words very carefully. (I never knew who else might be reading my mail.) At long last, I visited the school and spoke to Becky in private. We reached an agreement: Becky could come and live with me, but there would be no sex until she turned 18.
And that was that. Or so I thought. Becky found it somewhat boring living in the central US. Small town life in America was very unexciting for a worldly little girl from Denmark, a famously sexually liberal culture. As I was soon to find out, the little minx had a lot more tricks up her sleeve than any American girl of her age.
First of all, the child often “forgot” to wear clothes around the house. She claimed that she and her parents had often gone to nude beaches in Europe and didn’t wear clothes around the house. I had no reason to doubt her. Nevertheless, I insisted that she put on some clothing in my house.
Then she started cuddling up to me when we would watch television in the evening. At first, I allowed this, because I thought she needed the security of having an adult she could trust after the traumatic loss of her parents a year earlier. Becky began by leaning on my shoulder. Then she started putting her head in my lap. Her golden hair was so beautiful, I couldn’t resist stroking it. While I stroked the child’s hair, she stroked my leg. Her hand began just above my knee. Then it moved closer and closer to my body. Her head began bumping in my lap as the organic erector set between my legs began raising the bridge. I had to stop her before this really got out of hand! I told Becky it was time for bed. She pouted and stalked off to bed while I went to my bedroom and masturbated like mad.
But the worst happened the next year, with the pool parties. Becky had gotten to know all the pretty girls in town, and all the handsome young boys. Becky’s golden hair, gorgeous face, pert young breasts, and phenomenally prominent ass were mesmerizing. The other pretty girls were also attractive, but Becky was by far the most beautiful to me. Since I worked from a home-office with a window overlooking the pool, I was there every day and saw Becky parading her fabulous ass all the damned time. Every day my hungry eyes were being exposed to the most delectable young white meat this county had to offer. I had to take frequent work-breaks to go lock myself in my bedroom and masturbate.
Becky’s young body grew even more ripely womanly that summer. And I reached the limit of my self-control. One night we were watching tv together. Becky’s head was in my lap. I was stroking her long blonde hair. Her hand began moving up my leg. This time I didn’t stop the girl when she ran her hand all the way up my thigh and touched my crotch. Her head began bumping against the erection in my lap.
I don’t know why, but just then I finally got up the courage to ask, “Becky, have you ever had sex?”
The child rolled over with her head still in my lap and looked up at me. Her golden hair, deep blue eyes, flawless white skin, and beautiful face made her look like a fallen angel. “I thought you’d never ask” she said. “Yes. I had sex with Papa. Mama took pictures. We made videos. Papa’s face was blacked out.”
I was shocked, but somehow not surprised. “When did that start? How long did it go on?”
Becky gave me a coy smile “It started when I was very young. It went on all the time. Mama joined in sometimes. Sometimes Papa took pictures of me and Mama.”
“Where are those pictures? And videos?” I asked.