Chapter 17: Arising Aroused

Before I went to bed that Saturday night after Thanksgiving, I should record one other small event.

After leaving Lissa's room, I met Denise at the door. We'd only made it a few steps down the hall when she grabbed me and kissed me square on the lips. Hard. Passionately. Deliberately in view of her daughter's partially open door, so that Lissa called out, "hey, no messin around! Don't make me come out there and supervise!"

When Lissa did this, Denise chuckled throatily, and broke the kiss. Then she strolled, with the most come-hither walk I'd ever seen, into the living room. I followed, like a lemming on cruise-control.

We sat and stared at each other for a long while. Finally, unable to bear the tension, I asked, "what was that about?"

"Just because you're the best brother ever," she finally grinned at me. And then, she got up and went to bed.

Stunned by the day's events, I too went to bed. Because of my almost unbearable state of arousal, I knew that even to touch myself would be to head down a path of no return, so I exercised supreme self-control and lay still, on my back, trying to think of anything else, until I finally got sleepy and fell asleep.

In the morning, I awoke to the sound of Lissa's voice, just as I had been on Friday morning. Looking blearily at the clock, I saw it was about 7:30. That was later than I normally got up with an alarm clock, but it was still earlier than I tended to wake up when left to my own devices.

"Time to get up, uncle Jason," she announced. I groaned, and blinked at her.

Fortunately, Lissa was bearing a cup of steaming coffee. This immediately caused me to forgive her. That, and the fact that she was naked. I sat up in surprise, blinking a few more times.

She laughed at my evident discomfiture.

"Today is nudism day," she explained. "That's the first announcement of the day. We'll have a little meeting in the living room, when you're ready. Mom is showering."

"Well, I can't say I didn't see this coming," I finally mumbled.

The half-erection I'd hardly been aware of, upon first waking to her voice, had already grown to full mast, as she plonked herself into the spinny office chair that was at the foot of my fold-out sofa-bed. She spun around, exhibiting far too much energy for such an early hour.

I realized that a) she knew that I slept naked, based on Friday morning's experience, and b) she wasn't planning on leaving the room until I got up, this time. Despite these realizations, somehow I just couldn't bring myself to face the music right away. So, I sat in the bed and sipped my coffee. Oh, Denise always had such good coffee on hand!

I admired my beautiful niece in profile: the narrow nose, wide bright eyes that just barely evidenced her Vietnamese heritage, the full, slightly opened lips that showed a bit of her African American side, the long, tumbling mop of thick black hair that was uniquely hers. And now, for the first time, I saw her breasts without any covering: they were really nothing more that well-shaped cones, capped by dark areolas and pencil-eraser-sized nipples.

She thrust out her chest, slightly, as she became aware of my focused attention on her, and then she stopped the spinning in the chair. She turned to meet my gaze: coy, sideways over her left shoulder. She looked like some kind of model, almost.

I couldn't help but grin, despite myself.

"Quit staring and get up," she said, breaking into a grin back at me. "I can see you're awake, now."

"This is very good coffee," I observed, changing the subject. "Thanks for bringing it." I took another sip.

"C'mon, Jason," she said. "I told mom I'd have you up before she got out."

Then she paused and turned more toward me, so that I had my first good, stationary, look at the modest tuft of dark fuzz at her groin. Her legs were together, though, so nothing much showed, really.

The young teenager seemed to be studying me, in turn.

She said, more seriously, "you're actually embarrassed to get up in front of me, aren't you?"

I nodded.

"Is it 'cause you're ... like, erected?"

I laughed at her phraseology, but nodded again.

She made a funny face, then -- I couldn't read it. Evidently, she decided to show me some mercy. She stood, and rapidly moved to the door, saying, "Well come out when you're ready. But don't take too long, ok?"

I watched her pert little behind disappear. She didn't shut the door.

I sighed, and realized that procrastinating was going to do me no good. Nor was it likely I'd be able to get my cock to behave in any reasonable time frame, at least without ending its enforced chastity. I suspected, given the current situation, that masturbating might not even really cause it to relax much, except for the very short term. Besides, the prolonged arousal was delicious, I admitted even through my self-consciousness.

So I stood from the bed, narcissistically studied myself for a moment, imagining the two women's gazes upon what I was seeing, and finally strolled out as casually as I could, into the living room.

Lissa was lounging on the recliner where I typically made my spot, reading the paper. Legs tucked up under her, quite modest given position and newspaper, despite her nakedness. She looked up with her own studied casualness, but I saw her eyes widen involuntarily, nevertheless. She may have managed a good feel of it, last night, but this was the first time she'd seen it hard, I think.

Not that I sport anything obscenely proportioned -- far from it. It's quite average in length, about six inches, perhaps a bit thicker than average, but not by much. But it was her first visual of a "live" penis. She couldn't hide her fascination, as much as she tried to feign disinterest.

Now that the moment had arrived, I found myself less embarrassed and more simply excited by the whole situation.

So I let her stare for a little while, then I went into the kitchen to refill my coffee cup.