For Love Of Nature - Kelly's Story
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
AUTHOR'S COMMENT: This story is written in two roughly similar versions, the other being "For Love Of Nature - Chrissy's Story" Both stories are similar in that they share the same general plot and a little of the same text in the beginning. What makes them different is the way the characters arrive at the ending. I have used different names for the characters (except Uncle Bob, of course), but if you read both stories you'll see the similarities immediately, especially in the beginning.
Before you yell at me for telling the same story twice, though, here's what happened. I wrote Chrissy's story and then lost all of it except the beginning. After months of fruitless searching, I re-wrote it as Kelly's story, relying on memory to recreate it. As luck would have it, after Kelly's story was done, I found Chrissy's story again on an old backup disk I'd left in my car and forgotten about. So I'm posting them both. It's an example of how a story idea can develop differently as time passes during the writing. It's also interesting that the second time I wrote it ... it was twice as long.
They say that if too many important or huge things happen in your life at one time it can affect your judgment. Just about everything changed for me in a space of a couple of months, and it seemed like all of the changes were big ones. And I think one change leads to another. At least I think that's what happened to me.
It was the summer of my sixteenth year, a year that had brought the depths of sadness to our lives. Daddy and Brad - he's my year-older brother - and I were lost without Mom, but life insisted on marching on, whether we wanted it to or not. I was worried about Daddy because he was drinking too much, and when he said we were going to move, to be near Uncle Bob. Uncle Bob was my mother's brother. They'd been raised in Scotland, but Mom met my dad at college in America.
Uncled Bob had lost his wife too, after she gave him twin boys and a girl. Now he and his children and my mom's younger sister, who had never married, lived in a little cottage on an island in Scotland, where we would be welcomed. I was almost relieved. It meant leaving the house I'd been raised in, but that house was so empty now...
Anyway, I knew it was the right thing to do when Brad simply said, "Okay." He was the popular one, tall, slim, athletic with that tanned windblown look of sailors who do it for fun, rather than making a living at it. He was a good brother too, offering to teach me to sail and play tennis and all the other things he was into.
But I had other interests. Well, one other interest anyway.
Before she died, my mother had boxes and boxes and boxes of romance novels, and she was always sighing as she read them, and changing positions on the lounger, like she was uncomfortable, but staying there to read more. One day I picked one up to see what she had been reading. I opened it to a random spot to see what the fuss was all about.
"Marshall swept into the room, her bedroom, where he shouldn't be, especially since she was in dishabille, a diaphanous gown that revealed too much. She was aghast as he approached her and took her in his arms, pressing her trembling body against his hard, muscled frame. He kissed her and his passion was contagious. She tried to control her baser urges, but the intensity of his lips overcame her breeding and upbringing. His hand cupped her breast and her nipple jumped to meet his strong fingers."
It went on for a bit, never getting actually pornographic or anything, but it was obvious what they were doing. It made me wet between my legs, and I was hooked.
And then she was gone.
I had all her books now, but I'd have given them all up and my eyes, too, to have her back.
So leaving the place where everything reminded me of her wasn't so bad in some ways. And it meant new friends, and even a different culture. Uncle Bob lived in Scotland, amongst what they called the Achill Islands.
Anyway, we got off the plane and my cousins, Seamus and Johnny were there to collect us. That's how they talk in Scotland and Great Britain and places close to there. They don't pick you up. They "collect you". So they collected us and took us to a forty-eight foot sailboat that was lots bigger than anything Brad had ever sailed. Of course he was on cloud nine, and started talking sailing with his cousins.
That left Daddy and me to explore the cabin in the middle of the deck. It slept four and had the cutest little kitchen in it. I know I'm supposed to call it a galley, but it looked like a kitchen to me. And there was a bathroom too. I went back up on deck and suddenly got a lot more interested in sailing.
All three of the boys had taken their shirts off. I don't know what it is about wide shoulders, but they make my pussy get damp. And there were three sets of wide shoulders up there. Seamus and Johnny were wearing Speedos, and it was plain that they were in fabulous shape. They were twins, but you could identify Seamus because he was, for some reason, an inch taller than his brother.
Anyhow, they turned on the motor and we went under power for an hour, maybe more, passing all these little islands, specks of green in the wide blue ocean. Some of them had little huts and cabins on them, but others looked like no one had ever set foot on them.
Then there was a bigger island, across the water from what looked like the mainland, and we docked. We went up a long, winding gravel path to a house that looked like something out of a fairy tale. It had a steep sloped roof, all mossy looking and there were parts that stuck out from the sides of that roof that had little round windows in them. You could see slate tiles under the moss and there was a chimney. The sides were whitewashed and there were plants and bushes and growing things positively everywhere. A lot of it turned out to be Aunt Prudence's vegetable garden. And waiting for us there, of course were my Aunt and Uncle, and Uncle Bob's daughter, my cousin, Sally.
I won't bore you with all the little details, though everything was old and beautiful and homey looking, which does have something to do with the rest of the story, because I immediately felt at home in this place.
I knew my uncle Bob was a photographer, of course. I'd seen his pictures in several famous magazines. But his subject matter was mostly nature, and plants and stuff like that, and I suppose there isn't all that much call for that sort of thing if you don't work for National Geographic or somebody like that. So money was tight. My dad planned to get a job, which would help, but it was likely that when he started he would be at the bottom of the totem pole, and didn't wouldn't get paid much at first.
Anyway, things would have been completely different, I'm sure, if my uncle Bob hadn't been a photographer. I, of course, didn't know that then, or that a camera would change my life forever, and not all that long after my mother's death had changed my life forever.
Uncle Bob had been shooting some pictures of Aunt Prudence's garden flowers or something like that as we came up the path. I suppose, if a photographer was standing there with his camera and saw us coming, it would be normal for him to want to document the arrival of new family members. So he did, taking lots and lots of pictures. Some of them were of me.
I was still in my travel clothes, which I had picked out very carefully so that I would be comfortable on the long flight. My breasts had just gone through one of those growth spurts where they expanded two inches in what seemed like a week. As a result, all my old bras were too tight and uncomfortable to wear. I hadn't had time to go shopping for new ones, what with all the preparations that had to be made to move. So I was braless. I liked going braless, because it was so comfortable and ... I don't know ... free feeling or something. I had on a pair of those shorts that lots of men wear, with pockets just everywhere. There were two pockets you could stick your hands in up to your wrists. Then there were back pockets with flaps to close them, and matching pockets on the front and sides. I think there were eight or ten in all, almost enough to take everything in my purse, though, of course I didn't do that. But I could have if I had wanted to.
I had on new white tennis shoes with what my mother used to call "footy socks". They were the kind that didn't show because they only came to the tops of the shoes. Sometimes they had a little colored ball on the backs, but I usually took those off because I thought they looked goofy. A dark blue T shirt completed my outfit, and my hair was swept back and gathered with a scrunchy into an easy-to-take-care-of pony tail.
I didn't know it then, but the excitement of the flight and being in a new place, and the boys chests and just everything that was going on had made my nipples stiffen up. I wasn't horny, you understand ... just very excited. But when I get that excited my body acts like I'm horny.
Anyway, Uncle Bob must have taken twenty pictures of us as we walked up the path. I know he took three just of me alone, because he had me pose for them. He did the same for Brad, but Dad wouldn't play along. He just laughed and put up his hand like famous people do ... you know to try to block the camera's view ... and said, "No comment!"
Anyway, it was those pictures that turned out to be so important, as you'll see later.
The cottage was cramped with all of us in there. Daddy and Brad and I would try to find our own place, naturally, but that would take some time, and Aunt Prudence wouldn't hear of us staying anywhere else. There are, after all, few inns or hotels on the islands. I moved in with Sally, who was a year older than me. We hit it off pretty well. Other than Aunt Prudence she was the only female on that side of the island, so having another girl to talk to who was pretty close to my own age was great. There was only one bed in her room, but by the time it was bedtime we were fast friends and didn't mind sharing. I was so tired from everything that I dropped off almost immediately.
The next morning Sally and I got up early. She had agreed to show me the island, and we were both excited. We went into the living room and saw it had been taken over by my brother and the twins, who were sprawled just about everywhere. What we weren't prepared for - well, what I wasn't prepared for - was their state of dress. The twins slept nude, as it turned out. My brother, not quite being able to do that on his first night, had on his briefs, but that was all.
Sally didn't seem to be fazed at all. She later told me her brothers had no modesty, for all intents and purposes. The whole family was pretty lax about that, for that matter. I would find out later that Sally often changed into her nightgown right after supper, especially if we were going to play board games or cards or listen to the radio. Aunt Prudence did too, though her nightgown was more modest. But Sally's nightgown was so thin that you could see through it in the right light. She didn't wear anything under it either, and where her nipples were and her pubic hair were all dark spots under the thin cloth. She had very dark nipples, while mine, along with my areolas, were so pink that they seemed to fade into the rest of the flesh they sat on.
Anyway, we threaded our way through the living room to get to the front door. I stumbled several times. While Sally might have seen all those male organs before, I sure hadn't, and I didn't know where to look first. All the boys were still asleep, so I wasn't embarrassed or anything. Either Seamus or Johnny (I still couldn't tell them apart yet unless they were standing side by side) had an erection. He was lying on his side, with one arm under his pillow and the other lying across his stomach. His penis looked like it was a foot long to me, though of course it wasn't. I just wasn't used to seeing something like that. I know that nowadays, most girls at that age have seen lots of pictures on the internet and such, but I hadn't. I know I looked at that amazing thing and thought it was simply impossible that that could ever fit inside a girl between her legs.
Then Sally was pulling me through the front door and we were on our way down a path, with dense brush and trees hemming it in so that you had to stay on it. You couldn't stray off if you tried.
I won't go into all the details of what she showed me. There were fantastic rock formations, and cliffs with crashing surf at the bottom. There were lots of big rocks out in the ocean, and flocks of white seabirds that made all kinds of noise. There were fishing boats and yachts and even a big cruise liner that we waved to, but I doubt they could really see us. We went down a long twisty trail that was rocky and windblown and then into a huge crack in what looked like a wall of solid rock. That crack was six or seven feet wide and opened into something I'd only thought about in my dreams, or read about in fairy tales.
There was a waterfall, about fifteen feet high. It wasn't the thundering Niagara falls kind of water fall, but more of a little rush that fell into a pool of water that was about thirty feet around. There were more of the big boulders around the edge, and one not quite under the waterfall, but that was all the way in the pool. Around one edge, the trees and brush went right up to the water, but the other half had been cleared and grass planted. At that time of year it was thick and soft under out feet, almost like a carpet.
"This is our secret swimming place," said Sally.
"Where does the water come from?" I asked, staring at the waterfall.
"The island is bigger than it looks when you see it from the sea," said Sally. "The interior isn't good for anything, what with all the rocks and such that make it too hard to build or plow or anything like that. But it collects rain water and that dribbles down to here. See over there?" She pointed to a place where the edge of the pool was right against bare rock. "There's a little crack over there that the water drains out of and into the sea. The pool is ten or so feet deep in the middle. You can climb up on that boulder and jump in, almost like a diving board."
"It looks cold," I said, shivering.
"It makes my nipples stick out, that's for sure," laughed Sally. "But it's not so bad once you get used to it, and the sun feels really good on your skin when you come out. You want to go for a dip?"
"I don't have a swim suit." I pointed out the obvious.
"The boys aren't here, so who cares?" said Sally. She started shucking out of her clothes and was soon bare ass naked. She didn't wait for me, but went to a small rock, climbed up on it and jumped in, making a huge splash.
I wasn't too sure about skinny dipping, but I was sweating a little from our hike, and she was obviously having fun, bobbing in the water and yelling for me to come on in, so I got naked too. The ground didn't hurt my feet too much as I limped to the edge of the pool where the grass was thick and tried to dip one toe into the water. Of course I lost my balance and flailed as I tipped and landed with a splat. It was chilly, but it was a good kind of chilly and soon I was splashing and swimming with my cousin.
It was when we got out that I got shy. Sally was only a year older than me, but her figure was lush. Her breasts were big enough that they settled downward on her chest, the bottoms being round and full. Her nipples and areolas were the same dark brown, almost the exact same color as her hair and she had lots and lots of hair between her legs. Hers was kinky and long and bushy. I felt like a little girl beside her, with my cone-shaped breasts that didn't sag even a little bit, and the short, flat strawberry blond hair that matched my pony tail, but did nothing at all to cover up the two fat pink lips between my legs. I had learned to my chagrin that if the panties or bathing suit I was wearing were pulled too tight, the cloth would dip between my fat pussy lips, leaving very little to anyone's imagination if they saw me. Of course nobody ever saw me in my panties. My bathing suit was a different thing, though, and I had to be careful about that. It's habit for most girls when they get out of the water to pull the back and sides down to where you think it's supposed to be but the majority of them forget the front, where it covers their pussy. I think about it because if I'm not careful about the front, people stare. Well, men and boys stare.
Sally looked at me frankly. "I wish I had your body," she said wistfully.
I gawked. "Whatever for?" I asked in disbelief. "Your body is beautiful."
She looked down. "My boobs are huge" she said critically. She pinched both of her nipples and pulled on them, stretching them away from her breasts, which suddenly made them shaped more like mine. "And these things stick out like a sore thumb," she said. I almost winced as she pulled a little harder and then let them snap back against her breasts. Her hand went to her pussy hair. "And down here I have this forest of hair. I can't wear any of the really nice swim suits or it sticks out horribly." She went on, saying her butt was too big, and her hips too wide, and that she wasn't skinny enough.
"I can count your ribs you silly thing," I chided her. "Boys love a body like yours."
"Not around here," she said glumly. "Well, actually, I wouldn't know what boys like. The only ones I see are my brothers most of the time. And whenever I do get to go somewhere and see boys, one of my brothers is always right there with me, like some kind of guard. Sometimes they even put their arm around my waist, like I'm their girlfriend or something."
I had had similar experiences with my brother, who was very protective of me, so I understood. I nodded to show that.
She went on. "I yelled at them about it at first, but they told me I didn't understand, and that it was for my own good and all that rubbish." She looked at me. "Your brother is kind of cute." Her inference that there was the potential for some romantic goings on was obvious.
"He's your cousin, silly," I said.
"I don't care," she said, carelessly. "We're only second cousins, or some such thing. That's all right from what I hear."
I laughed. "You don't want Brad for a boyfriend. He's horrible most of the time and just plain awful the rest." I grinned. That wasn't actually true. He was really a good brother most of the time, but it just seemed weird to think of him with Sally, holding hands and kissing and stuff like that.
"Well, we'll see," she said. "Come on, I want to show you the rookery next."
She took me to some cliffs where thousands of birds built nests in the cracks and crevices in the stone. The noise of the surf and the birds was so loud you could hardly talk without shouting.
After that we went back to the cottage. We had been gone a long time, but nobody seemed to care. Had I just up and gone off like that back home, I'd have gotten yelled at good and proper, but Daddy didn't worry about me on the island. The boys were all out in the garden doing something or other. My Dad was gone with Uncle Bob for a job interview. Aunt Prudence was baking, as usual. I learned that trying to feed even three hungry teenagers and a brother had kept her quite busy in the kitchen, and now there were three more mouths to feed. It turned out that the twins did some fishing, and after they were done in the garden they invited Brad and me to go with them. Sally scrunched up her nose, but came along anyway. She didn't care for fishing.
It became obvious I was just along for the ride. When we got to the coast we girls were told to sit on a rock and watch, as the men went about feeding us. We both giggled and laughed as the boys all tried to outdo themselves acting macho. The Twins, according to Sally, were trying to impress me and I could tell Brad was trying his best to look good in front of Sally. They took their shirts off and used nets in coves formed by the boulders. Before long they had five fish that looked pretty big to me. Sally said that would probably only be enough for two meals, and then only if it was used to make stew.
Then there was the fish cleaning, which I was invited to participate in. That lasted about two seconds. Seamus, using an impossibly sharp and pointy knife, slit a fish open from head to tail and expertly flicked his wrists this way and that and there, before my eyes, was a neat pile of fish guts. I fell over backwards trying to get away from it. Johnny and Seamus thought that was hilarious, though Johnny did help me up. He even offered to dust off my bottom until Sally called him a pervert. He had a twinkle in his eye as he got caught, though, and winked at me. That made butterflies take off in my stomach. He had such deep brown eyes, and was tall. He looked like - they both looked like - the heroes in my mother's romance novels.
Lunch was not fish, but sandwiches and fruit, with the richest milk I'd ever tasted, from a cow I hadn't even realized they had. It was kept in a little barn, along with some chickens for eggs and a goat that provided milk for cheese. Those things I saw after lunch, and before everyone just decided, right out of the blue, to take a nap. It turned out that there were hammocks strung between trees, here and there, most of them out of sight of the others, but all within fifty yards of each other. I had never thought that an island could look like a jungle, but it did. I found out later that most of the bushes and trees had been planted by Uncle Bob's ancestors in years past, and that other islands around weren't like this one at all.
What I have just described ... the walks, the fishing, tending the garden and taking care of the animals ... and the afternoon naps ... all those are things we did practically every day. It was idyllic. It would change with the seasons, and as school started, but that summer was something I'll remember for the rest of my life. It eased the ache of losing my mother in a way that I don't think anything else could have.
But that wasn't the only reason I'll remember that summer forever.
It was a few days later that I overheard Uncle Bob being yelled at by Aunt Prudence.
"How could you have done something like that you blubbering fool?" she said. It was not quite a yell, but her voice was filled with derision.
"It was an accident," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "But the point is the man has offered good money for more. What could it hurt? We could use the extra income, and we're quite secure here on the island."
"She's just a girl, Bob!" scolded Aunt Prudence.
"Yes, but she's growing up fast, just as Sally is. If this were to work out like I think it could, we could make enough money that she could go to college on it if she wanted to. Sally too, for that matter."
"And you think these girls will consent to it?" asked Prudence, scorn in her voice. "Ask me if I'd do it you lout. I'm not over the hill yet, or won't men pay for pictures of women with a little meat on their bones?"
Uncle Bob grinned. "They'd pay double for pictures of you my sweet. We could retire in comfort in less than a year. Of course they'd have to be much more daring than the ones this man wants ... "
Consumed with curiosity, I approached them.
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
Aunt Prudence blushed, but barked before her brother could stop her. "My empty-headed brother got your photographs mixed up with some he sent a customer and now the man is clamoring for more."
"My photographs?" I asked, confused.
Uncle Bob nodded. "You remember I took some shots of you when you arrived? Well I forgot those were on the chip when I took the ones for this customer. When he saw them he offered quite a bit of money for more."
"My photographs?" I asked dubiously.
Aunt Prudence frowned. "I saw them dear. You look lovely and fresh in them. And you were ... excited. It's a horny old man who likes pictures of a poor young lass with bumps in her shirt."
Uncle Bob handed me some prints he had made. There I was, toiling up the path, grinning like an idiot. Seamus and Johnny were flanking me, tall and strong and good looking. You could see Brad over my shoulder. Daddy must have already been ahead of me. But in this picture I was surrounded by hunky young men, and I looked positively ecstatic about it, even though that's not what I was thinking about at the time.
And ... oh yes ... what my Aunt had alluded to ... the breeze had pushed my shirt against my breasts, and there, for all the world to see, were my hard little nipples.
All in all, I looked like a turned on girl, surrounded by active, well-muscled boys, and like I was loving every minute of it. Of course no one outside the family would know those were my cousins and brother.
"See?" asked my Uncle. "It's not so bad as all that, now."
Uncle Bob glanced at his watch and jumped. "I've got to collect your Dad!" he yelped. And then he was off through the door and down the path to go in the boat to get my Dad from his interviews. I had the picture in my hand, and Aunt Prudence had to tend the stove, so I turned around and left with the picture to go find Sally.
It was siesta time, and I found her in a hammock tied between two trees with brush in a line between them and a hammock on the other side of it. She was reading a book. I told her about the conversation and showed her the picture.
"Aren't men just that way?" she giggled. "There you are looking like the cat that caught the canary, and all some dirty old man somewhere can think of is that you were about to be ravished by those three."
"Ravished!" I objected. "That's nonsense."
"Oh is it now?" giggled Sally. "Tell me young lass, just where is it those boys are looking?"
I looked at the picture again, and saw something I hadn't noticed before. The eyes of all three of them, the twins and my brother, were fixed on a point that could only be inhabited by my buttocks. Worse still, the thin cotton shorts I had worn because they'd be comfortable on the long flight, had pulled up between those fat pussy lips I told you about, and my split was obvious. I felt my face get so hot I thought it might catch on fire.
"See?" grinned my cousin. "I told you I wished I had that body."
It came up again at supper, when my dad was there. Aunt Prudence brought it up, thinking he'd get mad that my picture was in the hands of some stranger. I think he might have, except that his job hunt wasn't going all that well. He'd had several interviews, and offers of employment, but not at anything close to what we were used to bringing in. He told me later he was worried that Brad and I would never be able to get into college.
"And you can be sure I told him you'd have no interest whatsoever in having photographs of your dear, sweet, innocent daughter floating around in the hands of strangers," said Aunt Prudence sternly. I think she expected my father to thank her for setting Uncle Bob straight.
"What kind of pictures?" asked my dad.
"He runs a modeling agency, among other enterprises," grumbled Uncle Bob. "He's a board member of the nature conservancy, which is what I was hired for originally, but he waxed poetic about how fresh and innocent our little Kelly looked. He was more excited about her photographs than the ones I was paid for."
"Kelly? A model?" snorted my father.
I kicked his shin under the table and he jumped. He looked right at me. He knew who had kicked him. He held up his hands.
"That's not what I meant and you know it. You know I think you're the most beautiful girl in the wide world. But modeling?"
I kicked him again ... or tried to. He had moved his leg and all I got was a sore toe on the chair leg. He grinned at me, and then turned back to Uncle Bob.
"How much money are we talking about?" he asked.
Aunt Prudence snorted.
Uncle Bob was ready, though. "He offered me five hundred U.S. for a hundred or so mixed photos."
"Is that good?" asked Daddy.
"It's comparable to what an experienced model would be paid for a shoot," said Uncle Bob. "Prices differ from place to place, of course. He's getting the scenery too. That's part of the deal."
Dad turned to me. "What do you think?"
I thought it was a good thing he hadn't seen the photograph that had started all this. He might not be so glib about it if he had. But the thought of getting money just for posing in pictures was kind of exciting. And if they went into a brochure about Scotland, that would be exciting too. I think that excitement showed in my face, because he laughed when I said, "I'm not doing anything until school starts anyway."
Uncle Bob started off doing just what he'd said. He posed me in various places around the island, in a hammock, reading a book, or sitting on a rock staring out into the ocean, leaning up against a tree and things like that. Each time he'd add Sally and take some more shots, and then the boys, one at a time. We had to act like we were interacting, laughing or smiling, like we were having a good time. That took all morning.
Then he got the idea to change clothes and do it all over again. After lunch the boys had to go fishing, so Uncle Bob just took Sally and me out with an armful of clothes to change into. We re-did the first shoot, where we sat on this big fallen log. In my shorts I had straddled the log, like I was riding a horse. I didn't think a thing about it when we started, except this time I was wearing a skirt. He seemed to fiddle with the camera a lot, asking me to lean forwards and then back. He said something about the light not being right. Sally stepped to where he was and looked at me and laughed.
"The light's fine," she said. "She's gorgeous."
"Aye, that she is," he said kind of under his breath. It made me feel good. He took the picture, and then took two more from different angles.
About then I glanced down and realized my skirt had ridden up onto my thighs as I scooted around on the log. I wondered if my panties were showing. It gave me a tiny thrill for some reason to think he might have seen them.
Then he put Sally into the scene, seating her behind me with one of her arms around my waist and the other stretched out, her finger pointing at a non-existent view. After that he had us change places, so I was hugging her and pointing.
Then it was time to change. Sally had suggested bringing our swim suits, along with several other outfits.
"Don't look Daddy, we're going to change clothes," she sang out. Uncle Bob turned his back and in a trice, as they say over there, Sally was skinning out of her clothes. She folded them neatly, dropping her bra and panties on top. I was slower and only had my blouse unbuttoned. As usual, I was braless. I darted a glance at Uncle Bob and saw him fiddling with his camera, holding it out away from him and brushing at the lens with a cleaning cloth. As I dropped my skirt and stood only in panties I saw his finger touch the thingy that took a picture and realized the camera was pointed right at us.
"He just took a picture of us!" I whispered to Sally. She had just pulled on her bottoms and was standing with those big soft breasts fairly glowing in the sunshine.
She looked startled at first and we both looked at him as he did it again.
"Why you dirty old man!" squealed Sally. She marched over to him and spun him around. I'm not sure whether she realized she was still topless or not, but if she knew it, she didn't seem to care. Like I said, they weren't very modest at home.
"What are you saying?" asked Uncle Bob, feigning innocence. He was standing where he could see me clearly now and I felt the urge to cover my breasts. At the same time I felt that tingle again, and decided that if Sally was sophisticated enough to stand there mostly naked, then I was too.
"You know very well what I'm talking about," said Sally, reaching for the camera. "You were sneaking pictures of us in our bloody birthday suits!" She pronounced it "bloody".
He fought for the camera, but she got it away from him and danced to one side, working buttons on the back. She peered closely at the little screen on the back and gave a whoop.
"And here's the proof!" she said. She showed me the screen and there we were, her bending over, pulling up her bikini bottoms, her breasts hanging down, and me looking startled and pale and white in just my pale blue panties.
"Oh, come on now, Sally, it was an accident," Uncle Bob tried.
"Ah ..." she said," And I suppose the one before that was an accident too." She showed me both of us standing there, me with my skirt around my ankles and her holding her bikini bottoms, stark naked.
"Oh, all right!" he said, flushing. "You look so much like your mother that it's both painful and a joy to see it. And you're both such lovely wee lasses," he said. "A man can't help but notice it."
"And what would you have done with these, might I ask?" asked his daughter. "Show them to Aunt Prudence and say how nicely we are growing up I suppose?"
He flushed even more furiously. "Well ... no ... I suppose not. I'd have kept them for my private collection ... that's all. I'd never have shown them to anyone, I promise."
Sally laughed. "You are a dirty old man. You'd sit around in the dark looking at them and fiddling with yourself ... now wouldn't you?"
He looked very downcast, and I expected Sally to scold him soundly, but her attitude about it was very different. She actually hugged him, pressing her naked titties up against him and kissing him on the cheek.
"It's all right Pappa," she said like she was talking to a little boy. "We all still miss Mummy. You're a man, who lost his mate. I suppose we can't complain so much if your eye wanders a bit from time to time, even if it wanders to me, too." She hugged him again. "And I can't be cross with you for saying I look like Mummy."
She turned to me. "It's all right if he keeps them, aye Kelly? It will ease his loneliness in the night, don't you think?"
While she had accused him, an image had leapt into my mind. I knew boys played with themselves. Brad had admitted it to me one night that he did so. But I had never seen a hard penis before that morning, when we went through the living room and saw the boys lying about. Now I imagined one of those hard things on my uncle, and his hand wrapped around it ... as he looked at a picture of me standing there almost naked. I have to tell you, I felt all manner of feelings right then, a mixture of tingling and not a little fear or something that wasn't so much fun. Then again, I couldn't imagine my uncle hurting me, so the tingling won out.
"I suppose so," I said softly. "As long as nobody else sees them."
Uncle Bob almost cried with relief. He thanked us several times, so much so that Sally, apparently feeling bold, asked him if he had enough, and wanted to take a few more for his private collection.
I wasn't so sure about that, but the look on his face made me feel all warm inside, so I let myself be led into something that, had I been alone, I probably would never have done.
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