Bob Randolph turned the corner of the equipment shed and went toward the open double doors. He was looking for his niece Megan and he suspected she was working on that old Mustang again.

As he got to the open doors he was greeted by the sight of a well filled pair of thin and worn cutoff jeans shorts. There were two nice looking tanned legs hanging from the shorts with feet that dangled a few inches from the ground. Head and shoulders were deep in the engine compartment.

He stopped to admire the sight. She sure was growing up!

Bob remembered the day ten years ago when he'd gotten the horrible news that his brother and sister-in-law had been killed in an avalanche. According to their will, their only child, a six year old daughter, was to be raised by him.

It had been rough at first. He'd never married, had never had time even to date really, what with his dream of raising horses. He'd been well on his way to having things the way he dreamed of them when he inherited the little girl.

He hadn't thought it would work. It was a rough life, far away from anywhere, and she was so small and helpless. At first she had been terrified of the big gruff man who now took care of her. For the first week she couldn't sleep, wouldn't eat and it looked like she was just going to curl up and die. It hurt him to see her suffering.

Nights were the worst, when she cried endlessly in her big empty bedroom. Finally, one night, he'd gone in there and, with her kicking and screaming, he'd dragged her back to his room and put her in his bed, holding her until she was too weak to struggle any more. She'd finally fallen into an exhausted sleep, cradled in his arms.

The next morning he let her sleep, afraid to move with her lying on top of his arm. Then, while he was staring at her innocent young face, her big blue eyes opened and she stared at him. He stared back and said "You're going to be OK, Megan. Everything's going to be OK."

She ate breakfast that morning, and when he said he had to do some work she followed him like a lost puppy. That night he took her to the bathroom and filled the old claw foot cast iron tub with hot water. Handing her the soap he left, only to return later to find her still standing where he'd left her.

Finally he'd stripped her and bathed her, bundling her in an old shirt of his. He went to get her some hot chocolate before bed and, when he went to looking for her, found her in his bed.

Thus had started a ritual that had lasted to this very day. She insisted that they bathe together, and she always slept in his bed.

It had been innocent in the beginning years. It wasn't too hard to bathe a preteen without it becoming sexual, though she sure liked to have the area between her legs washed. He'd always just used his hands. Washcloths were for sissies when he was growing up.

But as she entered puberty and began to have periods, his thoughts about her had changed a little. She went to school, and he knew that she had knowledge of things sexual, but the way she acted around him suggested that she never ever thought of sex in any way shape or form, except to insist that he washed her better than she could, and that therefore he had to keep washing her, even though he insisted she was getting too big for her Uncle to bathe her.

And when he suggested that they fix up the old bedroom, repaint it, get new furniture, "You know, so you can have your own space", she gave him a hooded stare and wouldn't talk to him for three days.

He tried one more time when she turned fifteen, saying that Uncles and Nieces just didn't sleep together these days.

Again, she'd turned that stare filled with thunder and lightning on him and said "Well, we do."

Other than having improper thoughts about the beautiful young woman whose naked body he stroked every bath night, and who slept next to him dressed in panties and a T shirt (unless it was hot and then it was just panties), he couldn't have been more pleased to have her around. She was loving and smart. She picked up mechanics with ease and had a way with the horses that was almost magical. Even the most contrary stallion stood still as she sang to him and slowly approached to slip a halter over his ears. The Mares acted like she was one of their sisters. The foals butted her like they were looking for a teat to suck on and then ran off frisking and playing with her. She could operate any piece of equipment they had as well as he could. He taught her to shoot, and she had a knack for sniffing out coyotes that menaced the colts and newborns. He eventually gave her his old Winchester to carry with her wherever she went, because she was a better shot with it than he was.

She drove flawlessly at thirteen, so well that the Sheriff never seemed to notice her as she drove into town for supplies by herself.

He was making money now, lots of it actually, and had saved enough that she could go to any college she wanted to.

In short, life was great.

Except that his niece gave him raging boners on a regular basis.

He smiled at her shapely ass, perched on the fender of the car. She'd found the '67 Fastback Mustang in old Mr. Peterson's barn one day when they'd gone over to his place to deliver some hay, and talked the old man out of the car. It had been his son's, but the boy had been killed in Viet Nam. As such the car was practically new, except that it sat in a barn for thirty years, with all the rubber parts disintegrating and all the seals shrinking. She decided it needed a complete bumper to bumper rebuild. She had done everything on the car except the motor, and that was what she was working on now. She hadn't gotten her driver's license yet, and her goal was to drive that car to take the test in.

He slapped her on her pretty ass. "Hey princess, don't you have chores to do?"

She wiggled her butt at him and her voice came from under the hood. "You know my chores are done you old goat." She liked to call him an old goat, or say he was over the hill and other things like that. She grinned every time she said those things because he was anything but any of them. At 36 he was in great shape. Maybe not as buff as he'd been ten years ago, but still he was lean and strong, tanned dark by being in the sun a lot. He still had all his hair and it was all still dark brown.

She wiggled down off the fender and stood up. There was a smear of grease on her cheek and her hands were black.

But that wasn't what Bob was looking at.

She had on a halter top, tied between her breasts. It was an old one. She didn't seem to have a yen for fancy clothes like some of her friends did. She wore things until they couldn't be worn any more and then, often as not, picked up something of her Uncles and made that her own. She didn't wear bras, though she needed to. She had large, firm breasts that filled her clothing in a very noticeable way. Every time he tried to take her bra shopping she resisted, saying they were uncomfortable, and pinched. She did allow him to buy her a sports bra to ride horses in. When she rode her breasts flopped around in an alarming manner until she started wearing that bra.

The halter top she was wearing was thin... thin enough that her nipples showed through visibly. And her cleavage was magnificent. Her flat belly below the top just accented her voluptuous melons and made an ache grow in Bob's balls.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"Well, until a few minutes ago I was looking for you." he said.

"Ha ha" she said, enunciating each word. "Is it lunch time already? Did I lose track of the time again?"

"No, it's time for us to head to town. We have some shopping to do."

"Oh really!" she said. "Give me ten minutes."

"I'll be in the truck" he yelled at her retreating form. "And put on a different top!" She just waved one hand in reply.

She dashed off and, true to form, was back at the truck in ten minutes. And she had changed into a short sleeved western shirt that was tied under her breasts. She was hot looking with her blond pony tail and jutting breasts, and Bob sighed as he felt the familiar stirring in his groin.

"What are we shopping for?" she asked as he drove off.

"Your cousin Gretchen is getting married, and we're invited to the wedding." he said as he negotiated the rutted track that led to the road.

"So we're getting them a wedding present?" she said, bouncing in the seat beside him.

"No, we're getting you something to wear to a wedding." he said.

"Uncle Bob!, I already have a brand new pair of jeans and a fancy pearl buttoned shirt." she said, looking at him.

"We're getting you a dress pumpkin." he said, steeling himself for the storm he knew she'd raise. She hated dresses. She'd managed to ruin every single dress he'd ever gotten her, and in short order. They always got torn, or so dirty they couldn't be cleaned or something that meant she "couldn't" wear them any more. So he expected her to complain.

He was wrong. She just looked at him and said "Oh."

He took her all the way to Centerville, sixty miles away, because they had a small mall there. By the time they got there her eyes were shining and she was excited. She didn't get to see the city often. She took his hand over and over again in the mall, dragging him this way, or that way, pointing at things, asking questions, making fun of things she thought were stupid or frivolous.

There was a shop Bob had heard about that might have something pretty in a dress and a sign said it was right around the corner. "The place we're looking for should be right around the corner" he said. They turned the corner and hit a dead end, with only one shop in view. It was named "The Sweetie Shoppe". They stopped outside, both of them staring at the display window.

The Sweetie Shoppe did sell dresses, but most of the front window was filled with lingerie of the kind that was intended to be worn for only extremely short periods of time and then ripped off in a frenzy by some horny male. Megan looked at her Uncle with one eyebrow arched. He swallowed and she grabbed his hand and dragged him into the store.

Julia Swallow, a name she had grown to love after a childhood in which she hated it with a passion, saw the couple come in the front door of her shop.

Ranchers. The clothing was a dead giveaway. The girl was beautiful, though, in that timeless way that truly gorgeous females have been for millennia. Good cheekbones, fabulous breasts, if there wasn't Kleenex stuffed in her bra, long thin legs. She could model easily. Rough hands - rancher's hands - but that could be dealt with.

The man... she looked at the man harder. What a hunk! These rancher types were often good looking, in a rugged sort of way, but usually they were either married, or ignorant, or brutes. This one looked different. For one thing he was actually embarrassed to be in the shop. His daughter was pulling on his hand like she was trying to lead a recalcitrant horse to water. Most men ogled everything and everyone in the store and their pants got tight. Her eyes dropped to the front of his jeans. There WAS a bulge there, an impressive bulge, and in jeans too! She wanted to know more.

"Hi!" she said brightly to the pair. "My name is Julia, welcome to the Sweetie Shoppe. What can I get for you and your husband?" she addressed Megan directly, ignoring the man for all intents and purposes.

The girl stopped short and shot a look at Julia like "What, are you CRAZY?"

Then she looked Julia over, like she was some sort of animal the girl might consider buying... or riding.

"This is my Uncle" said the girl in a voice that melted Julia. Julia preferred a nice long hard prick in her pussy, but if the right girl came along... well she liked to play with them too.

Julia shook her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend. It's just that you two don't look all that far apart in age and these days..." she let it hang.

The girl thawed a little. "You mean THIS old geezer?" she laughed, a tinkling laugh. It was clear she liked the man a lot, and that she wasn't being mean.

Her Uncle shook his head and came back to earth from wherever he'd been. Wherever it was, there was a girl dressed in something he'd just seen, and it showed in his pants. He wasn't overt about it though, and she liked that.

After all, men were her best customers.

Julia tried again. "Oh, I don't know, he can't be more than... say... thirty-two, and you have to be at least twenty-one or twenty-two, and that's not such a huge gap in ages." She smiled, actually wanting to be friends with the girl.

The girl arched a perfect eyebrow. "You're gonna make a LOT of money today lady!" Then she laughed again and went off to look at things in the store, leaving her Uncle standing there, shifting from foot to foot.

"Could I get you something? Coffee? Mr..." said Julia to the man with all that money the girl had just mentioned.

"Oh!" he jumped. "Bob... Bob Randolph, of the Bar Q Doubled. Pleased to meet you... "

"Julia" she said with a smile. My my. He was polite too! "And should I get a cup for Mrs. Randolph too? Will she be joining you?"

Bob had been looking around, probably looking for the girl, and his head jerked back toward her. "There is no Mrs. Randolph" he said. Then his head swiveled again. He seemed relieved to see the girl and his head turned back to her again. "Uh... her cousin is getting married." he said.

"How nice" said Julia, being patient. This guy was obviously uncomfortable in the midst of feminine bedroom-wear, and wasn't married. Had she found a gem among the dust and coal of this county?

His head jerked again. "Um... what I mean is... she doesn't have anything to wear. To the wedding. She's not very 'girly' and I've never been able to get her in a dress. She needs a dress." He finished, stuttering a little.

"Well, Mr. Bar Q Doubled" she grinned. "You have come to the right place. You let Julia have your niece for a while and we'll get her all fixed up. What did you say her name was again?"

"Megan" he answered. "And thank you ma'am. I'm not used to this sort of thing."

He actually blushed a little! She was enchanted. "OK, Bob, why don't you go around the corner to Sears. They have tools, and machines and all kinds of stuff I'm sure you'd feel comfortable being around, and I'll take good care of Megan. Give us half an hour, OK?"

He almost bowed to her as he ducked his head. She got a look at his left hand ring finger. No dent. He hadn't worn a ring for a long long time.

Julia went over to Megan, who was looking at lace teddies that should have weighed about twenty pounds based on the prices, but which probably only tipped the scales at six or seven ounces. She was staring at a set made of dark blue satin, with cream lace panels in it that held things, but didn't hide them. "Megan?" said Julia.

Megan turned. The woman was there, but her Uncle was nowhere to be seen. She wasn't sure she liked the woman. There was something about her that made Megan's hackles rise a little. "Where's Uncle Bob?" she asked.

Julia waved a hand toward the front of the store. "Oh, he said there was something he wanted to look for at Sears or something. I told him to be back in half an hour. Now. He said you needed a dress. I need to ask you some questions Megan. When a woman buys a dress, it can be for several reasons, and can be used in several situations if the right dress is involved. Let's look at it like it's a tool. You need the right tool for the right job, right?"

Megan cocked her head. She'd never met a sales person quite like Julia. This woman wasn't just trying to sell her a dress.

They began talking.

Forty-five minutes later Bob wandered back into the Sweetie Shoppe to find Megan, with an armful of shopping bags, talking animatedly to Julia, who had a big smile on her face.

His rancher's savvy kicked in. "I see by the smile on your face... Julia..." he was obviously proud to have remembered her name, "that I may as well just sign over the deed to the ranch." He looked pointedly at the bags cradled in Megan's arms. "All that just to go to a wedding?"

Megan smiled a smile he'd never seen on her face before. It looked... predatory somehow. "Why, Uncle Bob, I only have the essentials here. I did get a few extra things, but they're all things I've been needing. I even got a bra!" she giggled. "Two of them in fact!"

Bob darted a glance at Julia. He was a little embarrassed to be talking about underwear in front of a total stranger. She just smiled widely at him and said "I made a few suggestions, but I think they all made sense."

Megan nodded. "Really, Uncle Bob, I'm sure you'll agree this is all necessary once you get used to the idea."

Bob nodded, and didn't even flinch when Julia handed him the bill. In with it was her card. At the bottom it said "I'll be in touch" whatever that meant. He wrote a check and, with Megan happily bounding along beside him, they left.

They stopped for ice cream and dinner at the truck stop before finally getting home at dusk. They had a few evening chores to take care of and Megan announced it was bath night. "I want to try the dress on for you, and I want to be nice and clean when I do." she said...

Bob looked at her. This wasn't the Megan he was used to. He'd assumed he wouldn't see the dress until the wedding and then he'd have to fight to get her in it.

When he got to the bathroom she was already there... already naked. The same beautiful ass he'd viewed encased in jeans shorts that afternoon was now gloriously naked in front of him as she bent over the tub adjusting the water temperature. Her feet were a little bit apart and her pussy lips were peeking out at him from beneath her light blond bush. He felt his cock stiffen, and the ache in his balls was back.