Chapter 3

It took Bob maybe ten minutes, as he got dressed and popped a bagel into the toaster, to parse out what he thought was going on with his niece. In less than a week she had gone from “Nobody loves me or ever will” to “My uncle gets boners for me and sucks my nipples and I love it!” He could see how that might skew a young girl’s perspective. He didn’t question his own sexual interest in her. He was a man. Men noticed cute women, regardless of age. And regardless of familial relationship. That’s why he had thought about Julie, too. Granted Julie was only his “sister” by marriage, but he still felt like it was wrong. He’d had a couple of hot fantasies about her when his brother was dating her, and that had felt wrong, too. But the fact was that it didn’t matter that one of them was voluptuous while the other was board-flat. The major component of his interest wasn’t their physical sexual attributes, it was who they were; what their personalities were like. Of course the attributes they did display were also important, even if they were opposites of each other.

Basically, Bob decided that his niece had a crush on him, and that was why she was acting so strange.

He didn’t see this as a real problem. Girls got crushes and they got over them when they got a crush on a different man ... or boy.

The problem was the image she’d put in his head about some man ... or boy ... being on top of her with his penis violating her virgin pussy.

That’s what it would be: a violation. And he didn’t like that image at all.

It never occurred to him that a man could have a crush on a fourteen-year-old girl, too.

He was mowing his lawn when Erica appeared again. She stalked up to him and pushed him away from the handle of the mower.

“I’ll do that,” she announced. “You’re supposed to call me when you want this done.”

He stood back as she tried to push the mower. It had drive wheels in the front that had to be engaged by pulling a lever. If you didn’t do that, the front wheels didn’t want to turn and the mower was difficult to push. She was still distracted enough - by what, he didn’t know - that she didn’t pull the lever. He let her strain and grunt for half a minute before he stepped forward and pointed to the lever.

“You have to pull that, remember?” he yelled, over the noise of the engine.

She did and the mower lurched forward. He watched her for two or three minutes and then went back inside.

Half an hour later the noise of the mower stopped.

Again she entered the house without knocking or ringing the bell. It was July, and she was dripping and red-faced when she found him.

“I need a shower,” she said.

“There are two at your house,” he commented.

“I don’t want to walk there in the heat,” she said. “I’ll use yours.”

Then she calmly took her clothes off - all of them - and handed them to him in a bunch.

“Would you be a good uncle and wash those for me? I didn’t bring anything to change into.”

“Erica,” he sighed. “You can’t just wander around my house naked while I wash your clothes.”

“I won’t be wandering around,” she said. “I’ll be in the shower.”

He knew arguing wouldn’t do any good so he shrugged and turned to go to the utility room, where the washer and dryer were.

When he got her clothes in the washer and got it going, he heard the shower running. He had two showers, too.

She’d chosen the one in the master bath ... just off his bedroom.

What messed with Bob’s mind were the images he couldn’t get out of his head of a young girl, whose nipples he had sucked, and whose abdomen he had stroked, being naked in his shower. The images were of her running her hands over her body, stroking herself everywhere ... including between her legs. Her shower was long enough that she had time to have washed the sweat off her body two or three times. But she stayed in there.

What was she doing?

The answer, to his testosterone-fogged mind, was obvious.

She was masturbating in his shower.

He found that he was erect. The images in his mind had taken care of that.

And, like most men, Bob began thinking with his little brain, instead of the big one in his head.

Not having any idea how long it would take a fourteen-year-old girl to get herself off in the shower, Bob thought he might have time to make his prick soft before she got out and he had to confront her again. If he’d thought about it, he might have realized that thirty minutes was enough.

The problem was that Erica wasn’t masturbating in the shower. She just liked standing there with the water hitting her head as she tried to decide what to do to make her uncle see that he was acting like a dufus. The reason she stood there for so long was that she couldn’t come up with a plan to do what she wanted to do.

When she finally turned off the water and left the shower, there were no towels on the towel racks in his bathroom. She left the bathroom and entered his bedroom, still dripping, with a mission to find him and get a towel.

What she found, in his bedroom, was Uncle Bob, with his pants around his thighs, lying on his bed, whaling away at his stiff penis as he tried to milk it of its sap.

“Now this is interesting,” she commented, leaning against the open bathroom doorway.

“Fuuuck,” groaned Bob, as he realized she had caught him.

“You owe the swear jar five dollars,” she said. “And I believe that’s called jacking off,” she added. “Right? I mean I’ve never seen a guy doing that before, but I’ve seen people making that motion when they talk about it.”

Her hand mimicked what she’d seen his doing.

“Want some help?” she asked, brightly. “I hear guys love it when a girl does that to them.”

Bob’s hand had frozen at her comment, gripping his cock firmly. Then it had dropped away, leaving his penis jutting obscenely in front of his niece. He looked at the naked girl, who wasn’t dripping so much any longer. She did not, in fact, need a towel, really, except to dry her hair. His eyes zeroed in on the cleft between her legs. She had some pubic hair, but it looked like practice hair, really. It was just a light fuzz and her split was clearly visible to his eyes. His brain told him that split was where her fingers had been rubbing, so recently, in the shower. The fact that she had not rubbed there didn’t matter. His cock clenched as “it” saw the object of its desire. To his cock, her pussy looked fully grown and ready to host a pushy invader. There’s a saying, probably made up by a penis, which goes: The only way to tell whether you’re fucking a teenager or a grandma is to open your eyes.

“Fuuuuck,” groaned Bob again. Things just weren’t going his way.

Erica took that groan as a “Fuuuck, yes,” and she padded to the edge of the bed. Since nothing was holding his penis, she reached to remedy that. Again her hand mimicked his, but this time that hand had a penis in it.

Just like that, Erica was jacking off her first male.

The male involved wasn’t able to resist allowing this to continue. The train was rocking now, careening wildly down the tracks, and all he could do was hold on. His self-control had suffered one too many hits and lay gasping somewhere inside his mind. His little brain said, “All right! Now this is what I’m talking about! Balls! Listen up! I’m gonna need something to calm me down in about thirty seconds. You’re almost up, boys!”

Bob marveled at how an innocent girl could learn how to do this so quickly and so expertly. All she needed was one little instruction.

“Speed up a little,” he gasped.

She did.

She wasn’t ready for the rammification of her efforts.

She was still jerking it when it went off without warning. Suddenly strings of white fluid started spraying all over the place. It went on the bed, and on him, and one stripe of the stuff landed on her, from her cheek to her hip, going across the arm of the hand that had produced all this.

“Ooooo!” she yipped, finally letting go of the thing that had felt so good in her hand. Her fingers slid through the warm line on her body and she brought her fingertips up so she could examine them.

“So this is semen ... right?” she asked, calmly.

“Right,” he panted. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen when a guy jacks off?”

“Well yeah, but I didn’t warn you.”

“True. Next time do that. I missed some of it because I was so surprised.”

‘Next time,’ thought Bob. His heart was still beating fast. It had felt so good to have her hand sliding along his prong.

He suddenly knew that there would be a next time, and her eagerness to experience these things convinced him that things would escalate.

“I’m sooo horny,” she moaned, proving his assumption. Again, suddenly, he knew that, as the Borg were known for saying, resistance would be futile.

“I know something that will help,” he said, softly.

Erica lay where her uncle had so recently lain, while her hand had done something she was astonished it was doing. Everything about it had been astonishing. Seeing his big, naked penis had been astonishing. Holding and stroking it had been astonishing. Seeing it spurt had been astonishing.

Now she felt something else astonishing as his lips sucked at her sensitive nipples, and one of his fingers probed deeply inside her, making her feel like she might explode in a million pieces. When he’d probed with his finger her legs had sprung apart, whether by design or instinct. As his finger gently penetrated her, seeking and then not finding a hymen before sliding all the way in her, all she felt was “Yes! This is right!”

“Ohhhh, yes,” she panted, as his finger moved, sending zings of happiness through her whole body. “Don’t stop!”

Bob had no intention of stopping. He aimed to give her the mother of all orgasms. His reticence was gone, at least insofar as trying to avoid this new kind of relationship with his niece. He knew he couldn’t fuck her, of course. That would be too much ... be going too far. But he could banish that pesky adolescent horny grip on her body. He sensed that she was about to tumble over the cliff into a new kind of climax. As she did, and her body arched, he abandoned her stiff little nips and moved to kiss her lips. Her hands came to grip his hair almost painfully and her passion exploded and her vagina pulsed around his finger and her lips returned his kiss savagely. He was pretty sure she had never kissed a man like this, but instinct and ardor gave her skills she wasn’t even aware she was displaying.

He pulled his finger from her suddenly sticky quim and he used the flat of three fingers to just rub her vulva. He kept his finger off her over-sensitized clit and lessened the pressure on her lips. He turned to short, repeated nips at her lips as her breath rushed in and out.

Finally he moved his hand to her hip and let it lay there.

“Feel better?” he whispered.

“Oh, man, Uncle Bob,” she panted. “That was unbelievable. I wanted it to go on and on.”

“You can have that again,” he said, altering in mid-thought from, “You can have that whenever you want.”

He realized his penis was trying to stiffen again, but his previous orgasm made it behave.

“But this really needs to be for special occasions,” he warned.

“Every day is going to be a special occasion,” she sighed.

“No. This can’t become routine. This is actually called foreplay, and its purpose is to encourage more dangerous things.”

“Like sex?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“There was a minute there where if you’d said you were going to fuck me, I’d have let you,” she said.

“Five dollars,” he said, smiling.

“What else should I call it?” she complained.

“When two people love each other, they make love,” he said.

“I do love you,” she said.

“Yes, and I love you, which is precisely why we can’t make love. Not all the way. We made a little love just now, but that’s all we can do.”

“I know that,” she said, “but you don’t have to worry. I’ll be happy doing just that for as long as I live.”

“That’s not how nature works,” he said, moving his hand from her naked hip to her flat belly. “Nature wants this beautiful flat tummy of yours to swell up with a baby inside it.”

“Yes, but that will be years and years from now,” she said. “Until then we can do what we just did and everything will be fine.”

He shook his head but didn’t argue. There were teachable moments in their future, moments in which he could say, “Would you let me put it in you right now?” Her answer would be “Yes!” and he’d stop and let her cool down. She’d need that kind of knowledge, experience, and control when she started dating and found out that lots of boys would think she was sexy ... fuckable. They’d try to break her down, get her going, and get her under them. Maybe he could teach her how to avoid that until she was actually ready for it.

Bob’s heart was in the right place. His two brains, large and small, warred with each other, but his intent was to protect his niece, not molest her. The complication was that, in his past, Nature had led him to the point of making love many times. The problem was he’d never met a woman who he wanted to fertilize, or who wanted to have his baby. He’d never been with a woman he was in love with. In some ways he was just as much a virgin as she was. Nature had never gripped his throat and told him to keep going until she got what she wanted - procreation!

While the ride was wild, Bob was quite sure the train would not derail. He thought he could keep everything under control. He thought he could pay attention only to the tip of the iceberg his niece had become.

And, to be fair, Erica felt the same way.

Mother Nature just smiled.