Chapter 2

Having a niece two days younger than me has always been kind of weird, but of the extraordinary occurrences in our family it's the least bizarre; and like the other episodes that were a part of my life, I embraced it with my heart and was happy. Well, for the most part, I was happy. You see, I'm in love with Maggie and she hasn't got a clue.

Of course, the reason she doesn't have a clue is because I have done my best to keep my feelings hidden away. I don't dare do anything that would cause her distress or cause her to think that I'm some sort of freak. So, I have girl friends like any normal guy would. They just don't know that when I'm with them, I'm really with Maggie; or that when I'm slipping my cock inside their honey pot, I'm fantasizing about Maggie.

So when Katie pulled her stunt, I wasn't so much disappointed at the relationship ending, as I was in Katie for doing what she did to me. We were friends and she tricked me and seemed to think it was okay. I couldn't trust her anymore and that's what made me sad.

Having eight girls competing for me, made me feel like a trophy; rather than a guy. All they seemed to be after was the chance to show me off like they would a thirty pound bass. I was also bit afraid of the whole situation. Trying to understand one girl is an undertaking of Herculean proportions, but taking on eight girls at the same time was a ball-breaker. And in the end, I might literally have my balls broken.

Maggie didn't seemed to be worried as me; in fact, she was as confident when she suggested her hair-brained scheme as she was that she was two days younger than me; and, as usual, when she was this confident, and her deep brown eyes were sparkling, I fell in with her. I figured things couldn't get any worse than what they were.

I mean, I'm sitting with a hard-on across the table from my niece who has the thickest, glossiest, mahogany curls that I have ever seen. They hang half-way down her back and having them caress my bare skin was one of my many dreams about her. And though, her curves are covered in a bright green over-sized tee-shirt that reaches her knees and she's wearing matching pajama bottoms that hug her shapely calves, she's sexier to me than if she had been nude; and there's nothing I'd like better than to kiss her and make her mine, but, instead, I'm agreeing to date these eight girls to decide which one I want. And the only girl in the world I want is Maggie.

"I think the easiest thing to do," my gorgeous niece said, "is to place their names in a hat and draw one each Sunday night. That way they won't know which girl you're going out with until you're actually going out with her. And it'll keep them on their toes and they won't get bored."

"How about if we tell them that anyone who sends me anymore gifts, or does anything else crazy during this time, that they're out of the running?"

"All that stuff is really bugging you, isn't it? I thought you'd be flattered."

"It's more like smothered. A hint that you're interested is one thing, but what they've been doing borders on Aunt Prudie's obsession with Elvis."

My dad's oldest sister has this thing for Elvis. Her two story house is decorated with Elvis memorabilia and art work and all kinds of stuff that borders on tacky junk. But she loves it and we're happy she's happy. We don't even mind that when we visit we have to speak with the ghost of Elvis, who has, according to Aunt Prudie, come to live with her.