Bob Peters leaned back in the old steel double wide lawn chair, circa 1952 and watched as Chrissy took care of old Mrs. Johnson's needs. Chrissy greeted Mrs. Johnson, started the gas pump and then checked under the hood before beginning to wash and dry all the windows of the Cadillac. Bob was glad he had hired Chrissy. He'd always been glad.

Had anyone asked him, he'd gladly have admitted that when he first hired her it was mostly for her looks. She was a babe. Sixteen, fresh, pretty, vivacious, with high round teenage breasts and hips to kill for, her blond pony tail bobbed and waved as she went over the car. When she reached to get a spot in the middle of the windshield, one leg came off the ground and Bob had a nice view of the crotch of her cut offs and the white panties she was wearing under them. Chrissy usually wore a T shirt to work at the gas station, but today she was wearing a halter top and Bob had been half stiff since she reported for work. It was Friday and they stayed open an hour longer on Fridays.

The other reason he'd hired her was because she was his brother's daughter. He'd watched her grow up and now that she was almost a woman he really enjoyed being around her. She adored him and in any situation other than at work she'd have run up to him and thrown her arms around him, pressing her tight little body against him and giving him a sloppy kiss on the lips. They'd been buddies for years.

He'd never have thought even one time about forcing her to do anything sexual, but she'd been good for beat off fantasies for more than a couple of years now, and she was getting better and better all the time. She'd just started going out on dates and the thought of what those boys she went out with were probably doing to and with her made Bob's dick hard most of the time.

Mrs. Johnson paid Chrissy and they both waved at each other as the Caddy rolled out of the station. Chrissy put the money in the till and then came over and flopped down in a rusty chair almost exactly like the one Bob was sitting in. As she flopped down her legs spread and the almost non-existent denim between her legs was framed in white cotton of the panties under it. Bob stared and Chrissy caught him.

"Uncle Bob!" she squealed. "What are you looking at?" She knew what he was looking at, but wanted to give him a hard time.

"A little piece of dreamland, Chrissy. A little piece of dreamland." he laughed.

Chrissy closed her legs, but not completely. It made her feel special when her Uncle looked at her as a woman. She'd been flattered by his attention for years and he'd always been a perfect gentleman. It was nice to be looked at as a woman without having to worry about whether or not you were going to have to kick the guy in the balls to keep him in line. "You're just a dirty old man" she grinned.

"I'm not that old" he complained. "And besides, what was I supposed to do when you flashed your pussy at me?" He stopped cold. Had he actually used the word "pussy" in front of his niece. He looked at her, shocked that he'd lost control of his mouth and saw that she was astounded too.

"Oh shit, Chrissy, I'm sorry," he groaned. "My mouth ran away with my tongue. I shouldn't have said that. I'm so sorry." He was glowing red now as he blushed to his neck.

Chrissy couldn't believe her Uncle had used that word. That was a word the boys at school used and sometimes her friends said it too, but it was a word she'd never heard any adult use. He thought of her as having a ... pussy.

She was surprised to feel a tingle in that part of her body and then she felt herself blush too. It kind of turned her on to think that her Uncle thought of her as a sexual being. She reached over and kissed him firmly on his cheek.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. I shouldn't be flashing my ... my pussy at you. I don't want to give you a heart attack." Then she kissed him again and turned around to give him time to get himself in order. She fiddled with a display of windshield wipers.

The next day, when it was time for Chrissy to go to work, she decided to wear a short denim skirt. She chose a pair of lavender panties to wear under them. When she got to work she hugged Bob, pressing her body against his. She was extra vigilant to get every windshield that day, and bent over each hood, knowing that her purple panties could be seen if Bob was watching.

And Bob was watching. He noticed the skirt immediately when she got to work. She never wore a skirt. She was way too much of a tomboy for that. Or had been. Quite suddenly she was a girl. Maybe yesterday hadn't been such a mistake after all. She was obviously flashing him today, and had obviously planned for it. He sat in the old steel lawn chair, dick stiff, and watched her contentedly.

When the last customer for the day drove off, Chrissy came and sat beside her Uncle. Bob looked at her. "I thought you weren't going to flash me any more" he said. "Something about not wanting me to have a heart attack as I recall?"

She blushed prettily. "Well, I don't know. I guess I kind of liked it when you ... noticed me."

"Chrissy, honey, doesn't your boyfriend notice you?" Bob said.

Now she frowned. "I don't have one." She saw the question in his eyes and went on "My friends have them and all they seem to talk about is how much trouble boys are. I mean they always want to ... do things..."

Bob smiled inside. "Of course they do honey, that's what boys are made for. They see a beautiful filly like you and they want to make babies. It's perfectly normal."

"But I don't think I'm ready for that." she complained. "And besides, I don't know how to act around boys. I mean they want to do things and they want girls to do things to them and ... I don't know what all. All I know is that I feel stupid even talking to a boy. I've been out on three dates and I didn't have fun on any of them because I didn't know how to act." Suddenly she was teary eyed and sniffling.

Bob reached out and put his arm around her, pulling her against him. She snuggled in and moaned "I need lessons or something." Suddenly she turned her face to Bob. "You!" she yipped. "You could give me lessons on what to do with a boy. Oh please, Uncle Bob, pleeaase."

Bob considered it for a minute and his cock began to stiffen. The idea was quite nice, but he knew it wouldn't work. "I don't think so, honey." She began to argue and he drove on. "You're young and I'm old, and it wouldn't be right. I'd have to touch you and you'd have to touch me and society says you're too young for that."

She bristled. "I don't care what society says. I'm almost a woman, and I don't care how old you are. I trust you Uncle Bob and I wouldn't mind it one bit if you touched me." She glared at him, then turned on the injured little girl eyes that worked so well on him. "Oh please, Uncle Bob. You don't have to do anything you don't want to and if I get scared or nervous I'll tell you about it. But guys keep asking me out and I keep making up excuses not to go because I just know I'll do or say something stupid and they'll laugh at me." There were tears in her eyes again.

Bob melted. She was so beautiful, so fresh, so innocent. He kissed the tears in her eyes and hugged her. Her arms went around his neck. When he pulled back, all he could see was her serious gaze and her ruby plump lips. He decided to kiss her and was suddenly lost, sinking down into her being as her lips moved against his. It was a good kiss. When they broke her eyes were round and wide and she was panting. "Wow, Uncle Bob. That was some kiss. Is that how I should kiss a boy?"

Bob smiled and said "That was nothing, honey. OK, I'll teach you a few things, but the thought of those boys pawing you makes me feel a little ... I don't know ... jealous maybe, so I don't want you to go too far with any of them unless I think you're ready. OK?"

"Whatever you say" she bubbled. "Can we start now?"

Bob thought about the bed he'd set up in the back room several years ago. He'd put it in there so he could sleep over at the station if he wanted to. It was private, and comfortable. They'd be uninterrupted for as long as they wanted. He wasn't completely sure he'd be able to control himself, though. She was a delectable little thing. "What about your parents, Chrissy? Won't they be expecting you home soon?"

"No. They went to this thing down in Branson where people show them a condo and they get to stay there for the weekend and swim and golf and all that stuff. They're thinking about buying one. I don't think they'll be back until Sunday night."

He made his decision. "OK. We'll start your lessons tonight. But we can't go too far Chrissy. You have to understand that. This is touchy-feely only, OK? We can't, like actually have sex or anything. It wouldn't be right, and besides, I don't have a rubber or anything and we don't need to be worried about getting you pregnant. How does that sound?"

She looked at him very seriously. "OK," she said simply.

He took her to the back room and put on some soft music. He started by just standing in front of her, holding her hands in his. "Guys will be ready to do sexual things when they first pick you up for your date. But you shouldn't just jump right into that. Sex can be a wonderful thing, but you need to have some feelings for each other before you go that far. So the first thing you should do is get to know each other." She nodded and he went on. "Talk about all kinds of things. Ask him questions about himself and he'll talk for hours. Talk about movies you liked and didn't like, cars, jobs, all that kind of thing. Probably the first thing you should do physically is dance."