I was still a scoundrel of just 16 when my brother abandoned his family for a blonde, blood-gorgeous, full-figured woman. Dressed in a billiard green dress and on stilettos - stilts as my mother used to say disparagingly- in the same green, she radiated sex in a cloud of perfume. So her buttocks stood bulky too, through those heels.

For me, she was the inspiration for my hot dreams, oh yes, 16 I was. I don’t fall for blondes, and when her perfume soured, she became a sister-in-law and made replacement grandchildren for my mother. Sometimes I still thought about those stilettos and the boy-seed I had shed for them.

Years later, their two daughters stayed with us every summer. A blonde in wide, baggy shirts and an elegant one with red manes and at front and back promises of her mother’s figure.

My Love said no with her eyes when I stared at her again too eagerly. Anyway, she did enjoy my kindled fire those nights.

She was just in her thirties when she suddenly stood before me, luxuriantly wavy, copper locks over her shoulders, rounded in all the right places and wearing stilettos, which adorned her posture. She took me in her arms, a little too intimately for an uncle. And she pressed me, tight, against her belly, too covetous for an uncle.

Her relationship had been broken for a while and my Love had asked her to stay over for old-fashioned fun. Just like they did in the old days, shopping in the city, lunch at the Bijenkorf, going to all the lingerie stores.

So that evening I got a show of negligee-clad Love and cousin with sexy sets and saw her fiery triangle for the first time. Both on stilettos and lusting after my manhood, I thought. I had to get naked on the couch so they could read the effect of their sets from my sex meter.

Close up, I was presented with their nipples on trays, either hidden behind flimsy lace or unashamedly held out to me. I didn’t know that open crotches could open or compress their lips so differently, sharing their excitement with me.

And then they got up and came with a shoebox. Stilettos size 42. For me. I have to show off now, with hard erection yet. I stumble upright and try to find my balance. They help me to take my first steps, screaming with laughter. I hold on to their asses and slide my middle finger into their slippery pleasure groove. The three of us get down on our knees and against the ground.

I stay seated with my back against a chair, legs wide. They face me, also legs wide and each with a stiletto menacingly close to my balls. On the left Love, my sweetheart, my café latte, with familiar breasts and prickly nipples, a black triangle, behind which I know a warm place of play. On the right my niece, lily white, as befits such a redhead, freckles in the strategically exciting places, just as they were planned that way. Her breasts are still standing and erect, pink nipple forecourts, transitioning to freckles...

Her flaming triangle opens as she raises her right knee, folds it outward, spreading her boat for me. Her lips are fuller, rounder, and deeper than Love’s, and I hope I get to slide in there later.

“Villa Pussy View” she smiles at me. But I was already joking about that years ago when she and her sister rolled on the floor and defiantly showed me with their legs wide the white girl panties under their short skirts. And that became a game for those two, I had to guess the color of their panties beforehand. Now it’s for real...

When I suggest putting my stilettos in penis-sleeves (transparent, with big studs) and penetrating them both at the same time with it, they quickly pull out my stilettos. With my bare toes I can now wriggle in their pleasure, that’s better. Quickly my nails shine, they are wet, my girls!