Chapter : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5-12 Available On

PLEASE NOTE: This is a preview of this novella. It is available for purchase in its entirety via

Chapter Four

Hannah said she had to go take something out of the oven and that I should have a discussion with Harper while she was gone. It was obvious Harper was impatient as soon as her mother was out of the room.

"Come on, Uncle Bob," she said. "It's for art. It's no big deal. Hundreds of guys pose nude for art classes every day. It won't bother me and it's okay with Mom, and it's for my project... Please?"

I thought about suggesting that while "hundreds of guys pose nude for art classes every day, that probably isn't under circumstances where the model is known to the artist or when the artist was only sixteen. But I knew that would sail right over her head. She didn't actually want to negotiate about this.

"Here - would this make you more comfortable?" she asked when I didn't answer her.

Before I could do anything she reached behind her and untied her bikini top. I watched with unbelieving eyes as the cups slid off her breasts like the cloth weighed ten pounds. Then she flicked at the ties on her hips and the hot pink triangle that had covered her there dropped as well. Her adolescent pussy was suddenly displayed in all its glory.

I didn't know where to look. I mean I knew I should look away, but there was no chance of that. My eyes jittered, moving from her breasts (the nipples were brown, not pink) to a cleft that was amazingly easy to see, primarily because there wasn't a single strand of hair to obscure anything. The term "bikini cut" flashed through my mind at about a million miles an hour, followed by the argument that a classic bikini cut didn't remove all the hair, but then it didn't matter because I couldn't think of anything except gazing at her loveliness.

"Uncle Bob?"

My eyes finally went up to her face and some measure of control came back into my body. The look on her face was one of teenage angst, the kind I'd seen more than once when she was trying on a new outfit or a change in hair style and she was worried that it didn't look good.

"Beautiful," I whispered, automatically. That's what I always said in those moments when her confidence was flagging.

"Oh," she said. I saw her eyes change as the angst lessened, and my own eyes went back to ravaging her body.

She had that kind of flat stomach that young women have which, at least to a man (okay, to me) just screams out for something to swell it out, making it round as she creates life. Her hips were already ready to bear the weight of that baby and her legs looked longer than I'd ever seen them. My eyes slid back upwards, to what would feed that baby and I saw she was blushing from the upper swells of those mounds all the way up to her cheeks. Somehow that had made the nipples darker and her areolas were also more easily visible. They'd been a paler tan, just a little darker than her breast flesh, but now they had gotten more well-defined, somehow.

I think it was the fact that her nipples were as erect as any I'd ever seen in my life that caused the problem. The problem was that, while I'd known this girl all her life, and been her pal for most of that, there was no way I could merge what I was seeing into my memories of all those years. She was no girl. I couldn't even believe she was under the age of eighteen.

But that wasn't the real issue. The real issue was that I wanted to suck those nipples and fuck her until she screamed in orgasm.

"So … does this make you more comfortable?" she asked, her voice breathy.

"No," I said, required to think about every muscle it took to get that word out. It involved the lungs, the throat, jaw, and tongue, even my lips, which I had to lick before I could speak at all. That one-word sentence was punctuated by an exclamation point made up of another of my muscles, which was trying to break free of an old jock strap and pair of Fruit of the Looms.

It was then that Hannah returned from the kitchen, to see how the "negotiations" were going. I turned to look at her when she came in. I could see by how her eyes widened that the negotiations had progressed much farther than she'd expected them to. Or in another direction.

"Harper , whatever are you doing?" she asked. You couldn't tell by her voice that she was surprised at all. I envied her self-control.

"I thought I could make him more comfortable by showing him that I don't mind being naked in front of him," said Harper.

"I don't think that's how it works, Dear," said Hannah. She looked at me. "You okay?"

"No," I said again. I didn't have to think about all those muscles to speak, this time.

"See?" she said, turning back to her daughter.

"Well what else was I supposed to do?" asked Harper in frustration. "I just want to finish this stupid painting!"

Hannah came and stood in front of me. She spoke softly and leaned toward me. I watched her lips move. They looked soft and delicious.

"Why don't we just show her what she's done to you?" she asked. "Maybe it would get her attention and teach her some manners."

I know that sounds silly now. I mean getting her attention would be a foregone conclusion, considering that, according to her, Harper had never seen a real, live penis before. So the attention part would be obvious. It was the "teaching her some manners" part that now makes me want to laugh out loud. I mean, I get what Hannah was saying. She was frustrated, too, on a number of levels. But the concept of "teaching a teenage girl some manners" by displaying a rampant boner to her, pointing at it and saying something like, "See what you've caused now? Where are your manners, young lady?" sounds like something out of a bad sitcom. Now. Back then, with me not in full control of my mental faculties, it didn't sound so crazy.

"You have to stay here," I whispered.

"Of course," she said.

"Okay."

Hannah wasted no time. We've never actually talked about it, so I don't know what was going through her mind at that moment. Perhaps she wanted to do the "shock and awe" approach. I do know that she turned to Harper and said, "Okay. You want to be all adult about this and I applaud that. But your actions have consequences and you need to understand what those consequences are. Bob has agreed to what you've asked him to do. So get over here and take his shorts off."

Actually, now that I think back on it, maybe it did get her attention, because she just stood there frozen for a few seconds.

"Me?" she squeaked.

"You're the one who wants him nude," said Hannah. "So get him nude."

"Okay," said Harper, proving that she could recover from surprises faster by far than I could.

She came over and knelt in front of me. Her face was right in front of my bulge, which was painful by now. I couldn't help but imagine her leaning forward to suck my dick. Don't judge me.

She reached to pull at the elastic of the briefs and her fingers ran into the wider band of the jock.

"What's that?" she asked.

"He's wearing two things," said her mother. "You should probably only remove one at a time."

"Two things?"

"You'll understand in a minute," said Hannah.

Hannah had to pull the elastic as tight as it would go, but she got it over the tip of my cock and exposed the front of the jock.

"Hey. Is that a ...?"

"Yes," said her mother.

"That's what guys wear in gym, right?" asked the curious girl.

"Yes."

"I never understood why?" said Harper.

"Think of it as a bra for a boy," said Hannah. "You support your breasts with a bra. A boy supports his testes with a jock strap."

"Oh."

"And, if a boy gets an erection in gym, one of those is supposed to control it so nobody knows," said Hannah.

"Oh," said Harper again, who was in the process of shoving my briefs down my legs. "Makes sense, I guess."

"Which is why Bob wore one today," said Hannah. "He suspected he'd get an erection and he wanted to control it, so you wouldn't know it was there."

"Oh," said Harper, a third time. "It's not doing a very good job," she pointed out.

The worn material in the jock strap wasn't up to the task of controlling anything at all, and I had one of those diamond hardons. You know those pictures you've seen of bikini tops that are minuscule and stretched across really big breasts? You can see everything except the tips of the breasts, right? Well that's sort of what my jock looked like. It was stretched so much that you could clearly see my balls hanging down, and some of the shaft of my penis.

Harper's hands went to the top of the front panel of the jock. It was already stretched as much as it would go so all she could do was pull it down, bringing my penis with it. I winced, but then she jerked things and, suddenly, my manhood was bobbing up and down right in front of her face. I actually saw her eyes go cross-eyed a little bit until she moved her head back.

The jock, now wrapped around my upper thighs, was forgotten as Harper moved back a little more.

"Wow," she whispered.

I looked up from my penis, which had stopped moving for the most part after nodding its head a couple of times. I imagined it saying, "Okay! I'm finally free! This is more like it. Now, where's that delicious little naked girl I saw through your eyes a minute ago?"

It wasn't difficult to personify my organ, actually. First of all it helped me pass the blame for my erotic thoughts to my little head. Second, while it wasn't bouncing up and down anymore, it was still moving around. I think that was the result of blood pressure, and little movements my hips were making or something like that. The point is it was moving a little bit, sometimes up as I clenched the muscles designed not to let sperm rush through it, and back and forth a little bit. The effect was of a dog's nose up in the air, sniffing around.

"Oh my," sighed Hannah, breaking my concentration. "I had no idea."

"Yeah, well ..." I said. "I tried to warn you. Maybe I should put my shorts back on."

"No!" yipped Harper. Then, as if she'd just showed up, she said, "Wow!" again.

Harper just stood there, but she wasn't alone. Her mother stood beside her and the eyes of both women were pinned to my errant cock. I had never considered the aesthetics of my privates before, but was forced to consider them now as both women stared in what was clearly something along the lines of awe. I'm not unduly endowed, but somewhere in the average range I suppose. Neither am I vain about things though, as I suspect most men have, I measured myself one time. At that point I was 6 1/2 inches long when fully erect with a diameter of not quite two inches. I'm not circumcised.

And yes, I felt stupid for measuring it.

"It's so big!" Harper whispered.

"No, it's not," I said. I think it was an automatic response. I'd have said the same thing if she'd said it was "so small". Anything other than, "Well, thank goodness, that looks completely normal!" would have gotten that response.

"Yes, it is," sighed her mother, whose tone of voice made it clear she was agreeing with Harper, rather than arguing with me. I could see her nipples poking through her shirt now too, and it was apparent she'd gone sans bra that day.

So there I was, standing there with my little Blue Heeler's nose up and sniffing. The "prey" wasn't afraid of the dog, though, and hadn't screamed and run away. Believe it or not, it was so surreal that it calmed me down a little. I mean my worst fear, that of Hannah pointing toward the front door with thunder on her face, hadn't happened. So the worst was over … right?

"So I guess I should get back in my pose?" I suggested.

Harper seemed to snap out of a dream.

"Yes! Lie down. I need to study you."

I spoke to Harper as I got back into position. "Are you going to put your suit back on now?" It was a suggestion, rather than a question.

"No," she said, staring at my groin. "This feels really nice."

I looked at Hannah, who was also still staring at my groin. It was a little amazing that she was that shocked … and yet not upset about it.

I resumed the pose she'd had me in and Harper came over to stand and stare. She licked her lips, and my cock bobbed. Finally she returned to the easel and started doing things there.

Hannah fanned her face with a hand and smiled. I was pretty sure she was just trying to make me feel better.

"This is better," said Harper from behind her easel. "But there's just one more problem. I can't paint him like that."

"I thought this was what you wanted," I groaned.

"It is. I mean I need to see it, but I can't render it looking like that. Think about it. In what museum have you ever seen a naked man depicted with a hardon?"

"Erection," corrected Hannah.

"Okay, erection," said Harper.

"So you want him naked, but not hard," said Hannah.

"Exactly. Though I'm not complaining about it, really. This has been really cool, getting to see him like that. But I really need him soft instead of hard."

"Why don't you let me talk to Bob about that. Give us five minutes and then come back in," said Hannah.

"What can happen in five minutes?" asked the curious teen.

"Never mind that," said Hannah. "Just give him time to relax a little."

"Okay. I need a snack anyway," said Harper.

When the door had closed Hannah came over to the bed and sat down on the edge.

"So," she said. "What do you propose we do about your naughty little friend?"

"Do?" This was all moving a little fast for me. This is not to say I wasn't running along behind the wagon Hannah was perched on, as it trundled down the road. I was trying hard to keep up.

"Obviously something needs to be done to make things more ... relaxed," she said.

"Sweetie, you know I love you," I said. "But you don't have to do this."

"Do what?" she asked, sounding innocent.

"Have sex with me," I said, trusting that I was reading things correctly. After all, she'd said that getting a boner for her was fine, but it seemed like this was moving kind of fast. I mean we hadn't even gone out on a date, yet.

I saw her eyes widen and she leaned away from me.

"You want to do that?"

Something was wrong. She wasn't purring and taking her clothes off.

"Well ... if you do," I said, sounding like I was closer to Harper's age than my own.

I honestly think that what happened then was the result of the fact that we knew each other so well. Had there been less history between us I'm quite sure things would have gone sideways and the whole train would have come off the tracks.

"I was thinking more of a hand job," said Hannah, staring right into my eyes.

"Oh!" I said. "I'm sorry." I swallowed. "I don't think too clearly when I'm like ... this." I glanced down at Fido, who was still sniffing the air, waiting for somebody to be nice to him.

"I see," she said. "Do you actually need any help with that?"

"Desperately," I said. Actually it was my little head that made me say it. "I mean, I don't want Harper to have to arrange me in my pose again." It was lame, but then at that point in time I was lame.

She actually smiled. She'd called me a bullshitter on more than one occasion, usually when I was feeding Harper some wild story and claiming it was a hundred percent true.

"Yes. We wouldn't want that, would we."

I was red-faced, most likely with shame at having handled all this so poorly. But I'd been blindsided. I had no idea Hannah might have been willing to expand our relationship past where it had gone. Even now I wasn't sure how much expanding she had in mind.

"You don't have to help," I sighed.

"And that's why I'm willing to," she said, reaching for my cock.

"Mmmmm. It's been so long," said Hannah. Her hand was sliding gently up and down my prick. She wasn't "jerking it off". Rather she was massaging it, alternating the strength of her grip as her hand moved. It felt wonderful and I didn't want it to stop. "I didn't realize how much I missed this."

I watched as my foreskin stretched, became paper thin, and then bunched under the crown, only to see it do things in reverse order to cover the knob again.

"Denny was circumcised," she said, apparently making conversation.

"I'm sorry," I said, thinking about Denny, and the fact that this had brought his loss back into our lives again.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," said Hannah. "I miss him every single day, but I know if it had been me instead of him, I'd have wanted him to find another woman to be happy with."

"And yet you haven't found another man to be happy with," I panted.

"That's complicated," she said. "I'd characterize it more as never having been motivated to look all that hard."

"Well you can do this anytime you're feeling nostalgic," I joked.

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind," she said. "I'd like to go on doing this for a while, but Harper will be back and we need this baby soft. How should I get you there?"

Now there was a loaded question. It was a question had had multiple answers, dozens, in fact. She could take off her shirt. I was sure that would do it because I already knew she was braless. I knew this because her nipples were threatening to tear holes in the shirt. She could hop on me and dry-fuck me. That would do it just as fast. All she'd have to do was get close and breathe on it and I'd probably erupt.

"Just speed up a little," I panted. I felt like I'd already pushed things with both women, even though I'd been solicited to do so, somehow.

The door opened and Harper breezed back in.

"Five minutes is up," she said, and then stopped, frozen at the tableau in front of her. I was lying back, completely out of position, with my legs spread. My right knee was still bent, but I didn't think that counted towards me claiming to have tried to stay the way she'd posed me. Meanwhile her mother was sitting primly on the edge of the bed, leaning slightly, holding herself up with one arm, while the other was engaged in flogging my log.

I looked at Harper's shocked face and then my eyes slid to her breasts, and further down to her garden of delights. I think it was that cleft of Venus that unleashed my swimmers, who leapt joyfully into the air only to be dismayed that they hadn't leapt into anything even close to a warm pussy. In retribution, they landed on my chest, and Hannah's wrist. Her head turned to look at her daughter, but she didn't stop stroking, thankfully.

"You should have knocked," she scolded, as her fingers expertly milked my cock.

"It's my room," complained Harper, taking a step closer to us.

"Yes, but I didn't want you to see this."

"Why not? Don't I need to see this?"

"Of course not," snapped her mother.

"Won't I have to do this some day?" asked Harper, who knew she had her mother on the ropes.

Hannah didn't answer her, but I saw her blush even harder.

"It looks different than you described it," said Harper.

What the fuck did that mean?

"We can talk about that later," said Hannah. "We need a wash cloth. Dampen it a little, but don't leave it wet."

"Okay," said Harper, who turned and left.

"Sorry," said Hannah.

"I don't know what to say," I panted.

"I think our little friend here said it all when my naked daughter came into the room."

"No!" I groaned. "I wasn't thinking about her."

"Of course you were, Bob."

"I didn't mean to think about her," I whined.

"We'll talk about that later, too. For now it's soft and she can finish her damned painting."

She stood and I felt like things were falling apart. I didn't want them to fall apart.

"Thank you," I said, softly. I have no idea what twisted part of my brain thought that was a great idea, but, as things turned out, it might have been the right thing to say.

"No, thank you," said Hannah.

She had just finished leaning down to bestow a warm but quick little kiss on my lips when Harper got back with the wash cloth.

"I really could help with that," said Harper, as Hannah wiped the semen off my chest, abdomen , and hips. She'd cleaned her wrist and hand first.

"Sperm is the last thing that needs to be near you while you're naked, Harper," said her mother, sternly. "Don't push it. You get to see him naked. Even though you weren't supposed to see it, you observed how a man reaches completion. That should be enough for one day, don't you think?"

"I suppose so," said Harper. "Get back into position, Bob. We have work to do."

I did and, after coming over to move this or that, she stepped back to look at me.

"That's as close as we're going to get it," she said.

"All right, then," said Hannah. "Now that you're back to work I have something to do downstairs."

"You aren't staying?" I asked.

"I can't babysit the two of you all day. And I trust both of you. I really need to get some things done. I'll be back later, okay?"

"I guess so," I said.

She went to the door and, just before closing it, leaned back in.

"Behave yourselves," she said.

"I thought you trusted us," Harper said.

"I do," she said. "But I know how I feel right now, so I thought a little reminder couldn't hurt."

With that she left the room and closed the door. I had a lot to think about. One thing was that last little comment about how she was feeling. What did that mean? I knew she'd thought back to Denny and the things they'd done as lovers. Then I had a fleeting thought about mothers who leave young daughters alone naked with much older, also naked men. Not your usual mother. Not by a long shot. But this wasn't a usual relationship, that I had with these women, and Harper's boundless enthusiasm wiped away most thoughts of anything other than that she was doing what she'd said she wanted to do.

Then Harper was standing right in front of me.

"Don't move," she said, reaching to gingerly grip the tip of my penis with her thumb and forefinger. She moved it from where it had been lying in a kind of lateral position, and made it droop downwards more. Oddly, I could see the logic in that. Before, it had looked like it was defying gravity. Now it looked tired and innocent. Of course it was tired, if not innocent, but I could detect nothing other than an artist's desire to get it into the right position. Maybe it was an excuse to touch it, but it was a good excuse, so I didn't say anything.

Time passed. Harper was basically hidden behind the easel and my prick behaved itself. My mind wandered. Actually I got a little sleepy. Then suddenly Harper was standing beside me again.

"Can I ask you a question?"

I thought this was an odd time to do something like that, but maybe she needed a little break.

"Sure," I said.

"Have you been doing the deed with my mother all these years?"

"What?" I gasped. "Of course not! We've never had sex even once!"

"Had sex?" Harper looked shocked. "That's not what I meant."

"Well, then, what did you mean?"

"You know, making out," said Harper.

"Making out?"

"Yes! Doing ... the ... deed?" she said, drawing it out.

"When I was growing up, doing the deed meant having sex," I said.

"Oh. Well, that's not what it means now."

"It doesn't matter. We haven't been making out."

"It sure looked like she knew what she was doing," said Harper.

"She's done it before," I said, helpless to come up with anything sharper. "With your dad, I mean."

"Oh."

"Okay?" I said. "We all square, here?"

"I guess so," said Harper. "It's getting hard again," she commented, calmly.

I looked down. She was right. I guess that wasn't surprising. She was naked and near me, and we'd been talking about 'doing the deed', whatever that meant these days.

"I'm almost finished, but it still needs to be soft," said Harper.

"Great," I sighed.

"I could go get Mom again, but can I try it instead?"

"What? No!"

"Why not?"

"Harper, you're sixteen. I'm more than twice that age. Not to mention it's illegal."

"Well, nobody would find out, so the against-the-law thing isn't really relevant," she said.

"It would be if your mother caught you doing it," I said.

"Okay, I'll go ask her if it's okay."

"No!" I gasped. "You can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Are you insane? Your mother is not going to tell you it's fine and dandy for you to jerk me off, Harper."

"Maybe she would," said my "niece".

"I don't think so." I noticed that my cock disagreed, because it had gotten mondo stiff again.

"Look. It's no big deal. Let me just get it soft again."

"I'll do it," I gasped.

"Okay. I'd like to see it from start to finish," said Harper.

I know I should have made her leave, but things were spinning out of control again, so I just reached for my prod and started whaling away on it. Harper stepped closer and leaned down to watch, interestedly.

"That looks kind of violent," she commented.

"It's not as violent as it looks," I panted, as if that made any sense.

"It makes me feel funny, watching," she said.

"No big surprise," I panted.

"Right here," she said, reaching to press two fingers to her mound just above her split.

"I'm pretty sure that's normal," I gasped. There was no way I could avoid thinking about the tunnel just below her fingers, or that my prick would love to try it on for size.

I groaned and lay back as soothing semen rushed through my prick.

"Fuck!" she whispered, which shocked me because I'd never heard her use that word before.

What made it even worse was that her fingers slipped lower and obviously pressed against her clit, even though I couldn't see it.

"Finish the painting!" I gasped, rolling back up and trying to get back into position. I didn't even worry about my spooge, which had splattered all over me again.

"Okay," she said.

But she got the wash cloth and cleaned me up with it first.

Harper moved the easel so that light from the window fell on it more directly. This meant she stood sideways to me. Her nipples were straining away from her teenaged titties and, every so often, as she took a step this way or that, I was able to see her pudendal slit. It looked puffier than it had before, and I imagined her outer labia, which was really all I could see at that point, were also darker. I'm pretty sure the only reason I didn't get hard again was because I'd cum twice within the last hour and a half.

Another half hour went by before she finally stepped back and looked critically at the canvas.

"I guess that will have to do," she sighed. "I still don't think I got your penis right, but I learned a lot, doing this."

"I'm so happy for you," I said, sitting up. I admit there was a little sarcasm in my voice. It seemed like the whole world had changed that day. Starting with Harper being so casual about getting naked in front of me. Later I would suspect she planned that all along, but I didn't think about it then. Then there were Hannah's words and actions, which seemed to have come from a completely different woman. That was followed up by Harper wanting to emulate her mother's actions and the fact that she almost masturbated after watching me do that.

It was just a strange, new world, and I hadn't been able to process it yet.

It would only get stranger after we both got dressed and went downstairs for supper.

END OF PREVIEW

<< Previous Chapter

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this preview and would like to read the rest of The Not-so-super Model,
click the Smashwords logo below to purchase it as an ebook for just $2.99.