Chapter 1

Jessica was a teen mom who got kicked out by her parents when she turned up pregnant. My brother, Brian, met her when she was working at a coffee shop. He went back to get coffee every day for a week before asking for her number, and the rest was supposed to be Happily Ever After.

Unfortunately, real life doesn’t always turn out like the movies. As it turned out, Brian couldn’t have kids. He was happy to dote on little Amanda as if she were his own, but Brian and Jess never got the big family either of them wanted. Then, when Mandy was only ten, he got sideswiped by a big rig during morning commute and Jess ended up a widow.

Jess at least got a decent settlement from the trucking company, but she wasn’t college educated and didn’t have any real chance of getting a high-paying job. She was frugal with the settlement money and worked as an admin assistant, so she and Mandy weren’t in any danger of losing their home. But then the pandemic hit and she got laid off, and that’s where I come in.

I was living in a tiny high-rise apartment in downtown San Francisco when the the city went on hard lockdown. At first, I thought I would just ride it out like everyone else, but that lasted all of two weeks before I started going stir crazy trapped in a glass and metal box that had a great view of the outside, but no way to actually spend any time there without risking my life.

Jess and Mandy were the closest to family I had left, so we’d kept in touch over the years and I’d made a much more concerted effort to check in on the two of them after Brian died. They lived in the foothills northeast of Sacramento, which was far enough away that I didn’t get out there very often, but we still got together for holidays and Mandy’s birthdays, things like that. Once everyone went on lockdown, keeping in touch on social media and video chatting became more and more important. I made a bunch of online posts bitching about being trapped in a 170-square-foot studio apartment, Jess got laid off, and then one day she gave me a call.

Since I worked in a tech field and the whole company was able to switch to telecommuting pretty easily, I could keep working from anywhere that had a good internet connection and didn’t really need to be trapped in my downtown apartment, did I? I made good money, my apartment lease was up soon, and would I be interested in moving in with them? I could help pay the mortgage, they could convert Brian’s old office into a bedroom for me, and I could get some fresh air in the great outdoors literally steps away from their house. And did I mention Jess was an excellent cook?

I started packing the very next day.

I wouldn’t call Jess and Mandy’s place a farm or anything, but there wasn’t another building within half a mile of their quaint 3-bedroom, single-story house in the canyon. They still had all the modern conveniences of technology like high-speed internet strong enough to stream high-def movies to multiple users simultaneously and their driveway was paved concrete like any suburb, but otherwise it always felt like I was visiting the countryside in comparison to the urban jungle I had long called home.

“Uncle Bob!”

Mandy came running out when she heard my car pull up into the driveway. She was actually waiting for me by the time I got out of the driver’s seat and stood up, and she immediately flung her arms around my neck to give me a big hug with enough force to knock me back against the door.

“Holy crap, girl. You’re getting big!” I exclaimed in surprise. I mean, I’d last visited her and Jess for Christmas three months earlier, so I already knew she wasn’t a little kid anymore, but for some reason every time I left I managed to forget. Whenever I thought of ‘Mandy’ in my head, I pictured a coltish little tween, not the developed young woman currently crushing her big tits into my chest.

“Uncle Bob! You keep saying that every time you see me. I’m not a baby anymore.”

As if to prove her point, the gorgeous teenager took a step back and posed prettily, with the kind of calculated hip and arm positioning designed to maximize her sex appeal. I was a grown man and immediately found my attention drawn to the swells of her large breasts thrust forward in a cleavage-baring tank top, her bare midriff, and the curvature of her ass in ridiculously small cotton shorts that did NOT cover the bottom curves of her asscheeks. I could only imagine how that particular pose would’ve worked on the boys at her high school.

I felt a twitch in my balls and a lightning bolt of arousal shooting down my spine, and I suddenly remembered why I always kept my mental image of Mandy as a tween. I did NOT want to be having these thoughts about my niece. “Good lord, Mandy. Your mom lets you out wearing that?”

She blew a raspberry. “I haven’t seen another human being in three weeks. If you weren’t moving in, I could just go naked every day.”

I blinked and shook my head. I didn’t want to think about THAT either. So before I started developing a boner, I turned and headed to the trunk of my car.

“You need help unloading?” she asked innocently.

“Uh, you can grab a box if you want. But there’s really not that much. My apartment was pretty small and I put most of my crap into storage.”

“No sweat.” She immediately grabbed a box and hefted it, her arms squishing her tits together and forming a deep line of cleavage. I couldn’t help but look down, and by the time I looked away, I saw her eyes narrow and the smirk that spread across her lips when she caught me.

I actually wondered if I should put the boxes back into the trunk and call this whole thing off before I did or said something that would revoke my welcome or get me banned from visiting next Christmas. But just then, Jessica came out, looking as gorgeous as ever.

“Hey, Bobby! We are SO happy you could come stay with us!” she called and flashed me the kind of smile that had always made my knees weak. And I knew then and there that I’d NEVER actually pack up and leave.

I’ll admit it: I’d been infatuated with my sister-in-law since I first met her. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, with a sparkling personality, a warm heart, and an AMAZING rack. The day Brian introduced me to her I’d hated his guts for landing her before me. Well, not really, but I was certainly jealous as all hell.

But I’d never made a move on her and I never would. She was my dead brother’s wife. I would never dishonor his memory that way. Look after her and Mandy and make sure they were taken care of? Absolutely. But I’d been glad the distance between us had limited our in-person visits to only a few times a year. I wouldn’t have been able to handle seeing her more often than that.

At least, not until a global pandemic changed everything.

The next few weeks were definitely an adjustment period for all three of us. For them, the most immediate change seemed to be adjusting from an all-female household to including a male. More than once I found myself struggling to not pay attention to the way one or the other female walked around braless beneath their shirt. Eventually, they’d notice my gaze, realize their mistake, and go change and put a bra on. Well, Jessica did that. Mandy seemed to relish my attention and more often than not had to get scolded to go put a bra on by her mother. After the first week or so, Jessica got adjusted to the new level of modesty and no longer forgot. Mandy, on the other hand, kept dressing to invite my scrutiny and would have to innocently claim she’d forgotten she’d walked out of her bedroom wearing nothing but a t-shirt and panties.

For me, I was used to living the bachelor life, doing what I wanted, when I wanted, however I wanted. Lockdown hadn’t significantly changed my routine. I would get up, log on to my company’s VPN, feed myself when I got hungry, and surf the internet or watch streaming TV shows most of the evening. But now I was living with other human beings who liked to ... well ... TALK. And since Jess and Mandy were sick and tired of only having each other to hang out with, they obviously wanted to hang out with ME. So I fell way behind on all of my TV shows and movies, not that I’d really complain. Jess and Mandy were excellent conversationalists and a heckuva lot better looking than the group of guys I used to hang out with after work.

Jess was also struggling to find things to occupy her time now that she was unemployed. She was used to having a daytime job, and without that she threw herself into taking care of every household chore she could think of. But those only took up part of the day, and the rest of the time she seemed to spend checking in on me.

I had never been as pampered in my entire life as I was those first couple of weeks after moving in. Breakfast was often ready before I woke up, she brought lunch into my room daily, and dinners were as a family of three. Getting three home-cooked meals a day, I could well imagine I might very well gain the Covid-19 during lockdown (19 pounds, that is), and I had to start doing extra push-ups and sit-ups in my room to try and avoid putting on excess weight. She did my laundry, folded my clothes, tidied up my room, and even got all the crumbs out of my keyboard. I tried to tell her multiple times that she didn’t need to go out of her way to do all these things for me, but she insisted she was happy to do so. And she only had to mention once that my paycheck was covering half of her mortgage, something for which she was eternally grateful.

Jess also had a thing for drinking wine in the evenings. Most nights it was just a single glass while we chatted about the day, and maybe a second one while she read a book when I returned to my room to surf the internet (or, cough, masturbate).

At first, I didn’t join her. Wine wasn’t my thing, for one thing, and I’d never been a heavy drinker. But she did ask what my favorite alcohols were, and one day she came back from a shopping trip to the local wholesale club store with these ginormous bottles of premium liquor. I mean, it wasn’t like I was driving anywhere, right? So from then on I usually mixed a cocktail or two while the three of us chatted every evening. And by the second week, Jess finally relented and would even let Mandy have a half-glass of wine or something.

Speaking of Mandy, she was usually in her own little world. She had distance-learning high school classes most of the day and video-chatted with her friends the rest of the time. She joined us for meals but spent a lot of time holed up in her room. And there were a number of times where she’d come make flirtatious comments to me in the middle of the afternoon while pretending not to notice the way I was staring at her nipples poking through her t-shirt, get scolded by her mom into putting on a bra, and then later arrive to dinner with that bra having mysteriously disappeared once again.

Still, after a couple of weeks the novelty of hanging out with Uncle Bob and flashing her headlights started to wear off, and Mandy would return to her bedroom earlier and earlier. That left me and her mother hanging out in the living room talking about ... whatever. We talked about the pandemic, of course. We talked about politics. We talked about science and history and pop culture and music and movies and ... well you name it, we probably talked about it. I exchanged more words in conversation with Jess those first three weeks than we had in the past three YEARS, and I found that we got along really, really well. She even started flirting with me, and the more time we spent together, the more I found myself still thinking about her late at night in bed when trying to fall asleep, picturing her in the next room wearing just her nightgown. Sometimes she even took really late showers, and as I heard the flow of water running through the pipes behind the wall, I wondered exactly what she looked like with her hair slicked back rubbing soap lather all over her big, beautiful breasts.

Now I don’t only mean that I jerked off to fantasies of her spectacular naked body. I mean, yeah, I TOTALLY did that all the time, and had been doing so since I first met her. But I spent a lot of time staring at the ceiling, pondering the “what ifs” about how different things might’ve been had Brian not died, how different things might’ve been if it wasn’t for this pandemic, and how different things might possibly be in the future if she had any of the kinds of feelings for me that I had for her.

I of course dismissed such thoughts as absolutely ridiculous. Jess was way out of my league, a stone cold fox, and I was just ... Uncle Bob. Any positive feelings I currently received from her were borne solely because I was related to her dead husband and my paycheck, not any actual interest on her part, and I knew it. They weren’t real.

Or at least, I thought that she didn’t have any real interest in me, but that started to change one Friday night. Both Jess and I had been drinking as we talked for close to three hours about whatever popped into our heads. Like I said, she was a really good conversationalist, and since I didn’t have to worry about waking up early in the morning the next day, I must’ve had four cocktails and she had an equal number of glasses of wine, if not more. She flirted with me like crazy, and even dropped a few less-than-subtle hints about the two of us being trapped together by fate. We were two single people in our mid-thirties, neither of us had gotten laid in a long time it seemed, but just when I thought she might ACTUALLY invite me into her bed or something, she made some comment about how good Brian had been in bed.

The mention of my dead brother sobered me up FAST, and despite the copious amounts of alcohol in me, all the reasons and rationalizations I’d given myself for why I should never, EVER make a move on his widow slammed down around my arousal like concrete walls.

The mood shifted, and she could tell right away. Within a few minutes, she made a comment about perhaps drinking a little too much tonight, and I agreed. We said our goodnights to each other and went to our own rooms. But about thirty minutes later I realized I was desperately thirsty. Pounding cocktails and not drinking any water doesn’t do much for hydration, so I slipped out of my room and went to the kitchen as quietly as possible to get a glass of water.

The whole house was dark. Mandy had gone to her own bedroom hours earlier, and I didn’t want to disturb either of the two ladies. So I tiptoed as quietly as possible, chugged two glasses of water, and then tiptoed back to my room. On the way, though, I had to pass outside the Master Bedroom, and as I did so, I heard the distinct sound of a feminine moan.

I couldn’t help but stop and listen outside the door, my ears cocked in the silent darkness. If I concentrated hard enough, I thought I could hear a faint buzzing sound between breathy moans. And then I heard her voice muttering something I had never expected to hear. Yeah, I’d long dreamed of it, but expected? No.

“Bobby ... Bobby...” Jess moaned in obvious arousal. “Fuck me, Bobby ... Fuck me...”

Well THAT woke me up fast. I stayed there, unmoving, for another five minutes or so. That’s how long it took to hear Jess reach her peak, whimpering softly and muttering my name, calling on me to fuck her harder as she came. All went silent then, and being extra careful to be as noiseless as a church mouse, I silently padded back to my room.

It took me less than two minutes to fill a wad of tissues, replaying Jess’s moans in my mind.

The next day, Jess was far more circumspect around me and less flirtatious overall. Mandy, on the other hand, seemed to be turning things up a notch. One day while her mom and I were chatting on the couch, she came into the living room wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her midsection. Her large breasts, inherited from her mother, were spilling over the top although the nipples remained safely out of view. And when she turned around the bottom curves of her asscheeks were exposed. I don’t even remember what lame excuse she made for coming into the living room in the first place.

Another day, the sexy teenager bounced into my room one afternoon while I was working. She bent over at the waist, planting her hands on her knees while scrutinizing my monitor. She made several pointed questions, asking about my work, what I was doing, and why it was important. The whole time though, she was wearing a wide scoop-necked shirt that hung dramatically low, giving me an unobstructed close-up view of her cleavage if I would only look to my right. God help me, I must have looked right three or four times. At one point, I realized neither of us had even spoken for a minute while she made a big show of staring straight at my monitor while surreptitiously watching me gawk at her tits. I knew she’d asked me a question, and I knew that she knew I hadn’t answered it. Not that learning more about my job had ever been her intention in the first place.

She’s just a little girl. She’s just a little girl. She’s just a little girl, I told myself. She’s your freaking niece for cryin’ out loud.

And THEN there was the time Mandy came and plopped into my lap while I was working, blathering on about some new pop song that was going viral and cueing up the song on my laptop so I could hear it. The whole time she kept wriggling her ass in my lap to the beat, and did I mention she was wearing those ridiculously small cotton shorts again? The teenaged sexpot knew damn well she was giving me an erection, and she seemed thrilled to grind herself down on it.