Miss September Is His Niece
Author's Comment: When I wrote "Centerfold Daughter" there were two stories in my mind. This is the other one.
Bob Chandler was a happy man, all in all. He had a good business selling used books and CDs in a little storefront on the edge of Centerville's business district. He had several High School students who worked for him part time and in reality he didn't have to work much at all if he didn't want to. His house was paid for. He had the car of his dreams.
But all this was due to the insurance settlement that resulted from the death of his wife. That was the down side. He missed her terribly. Theirs had been a perfect match, both in the sense that they shared lots of interests, and because the sex had been fantastic for both of them. They'd spent untold hours learning how to satisfy each other and had been trying to get her pregnant when she'd been killed by a drunk driver.
He'd adjusted, for the most part. He couldn't abide the thought of dating after that, and had remained both single and pretty much celibate since then. The one time he'd let go had been with his wife's sister, Colleen. It had happened about a year after Susan had died and even though they both knew it was a "pity fuck" it had been extremely enjoyable for both of them.
The fact that Colleen was married though, made it a one time fling for them both. That, and the fact that Colleenís daughter, Chrissy, thought the sun rose and set on her Uncle Bob's command. Chrissy hung around Bob's house daily after her Aunt had been killed. At twelve, she was young enough to avoid the true pain of losing a loved one, but old enough to know that Bob was hurting and want to make him feel better.
So she'd sort of adopted him for a while, fixing him breakfast sometimes, getting him to take her places, convincing him to sponsor her soccer team, and other things that put him back into a normal life. In the five years since, she'd become like the daughter he'd never had.
Bob had to make do with beating off. He didn't mind, really. Playpen was his favorite beat-off magazine, and he always took a copy home when they were delivered. He'd been embarrassed about it the first few times Chrissy had seen him with it, but she never said anything so he pretended like she didn't actually pay any attention, or that it just didn't matter. Maybe she didn't know what was inside.
Bob looked up from his ruminations as the bell over the door of the shop tinkled. As fate would have it, it was Chrissy, coming to work. He gazed at her youthful form, slim, not too busty, with long blond hair she almost always wore in a pony tail. There was some swell to her hips in the last few years. He suddenly realized she was a woman now, and not "Little Chrissy" any more.
With a trace of guilt he thought back to the time she was sixteen and had taken a shower at his house after a soccer game. Without thinking he'd walked into the master bathroom. She'd turned off the water and was toweling off. Had the water been running he'd have remembered she was in there, but it was quiet. There she was, standing, feet spread shoulder's width, facing him with both hands up, rubbing a towel through her hair.
She'd been gorgeous! And though she wasn't heavy with feminine flesh, her pert upturned breasts, with those amazingly perky pink nipples sticking out an inch had stiffened his cock almost instantly.
Amazingly, she hadn't been upset. She'd just smiled and said, "Be through in a minute Uncle Bob," like nothing had happened. He, on the other hand had blushed and stammered out several "Sorry" type phrases as he backed out.
He'd had some amazing beat off sessions after that, remembering the two pouting pussy lips he'd seen hanging below sparse blonde hairs on her mons. But he'd felt guilty about dreaming of fucking her brains out and eventually put her out of his mind. Unless he saw her, of course. When he saw her he remembered. Like now. She was dressed in jeans and a halter top, and before she even got out, "Hi Uncle Bob" he felt his dick start to fill with blood.
"Hi Peaches," he said. He was an expert by now in suppressing his desire to rip her clothes off and sink his dick deep into her pussy. "Having an interesting day?"
"Naw, not much," she said as she moved behind the counter. "Went shopping and bought a CD, but that's about all."
She approached him and kissed him on the cheek, like she always did. Then a brief hug, during which she pressed her breasts against him ... like she always did. "Had much business today?" she asked as she began to straighten up the desk.
"One guy came in and bought every Nivens book we had," he said. "Said he'd just discovered him and wanted more."
"Hey, Uncle Bob" she said, turning to face him. "I'm going to need a couple of days off. I've got an interview at Central Tech, over in Calhoun. I'm thinking about doing their nursing degree." She waited for his response, looking at him closely.
"Sure, Peaches. That would be fine," he said, but his heart wasn't in it. When she left for college he was sure life would become unbearably dull.
The time came, and for two days Bob was up-tight, even snapping at one customer who couldn't remember an author's name and thought that if she described the picture on the back of one of his books Bob would be able to recognize him.
The next day Chrissy came into the store like nothing had happened. "Hi Uncle Bob," she said, same as always. Then the kiss, and the press of her breasts against him. Like usual she began to straighten up the desk. She picked up a stack of books bob had bought and started toward the shelves, to put them on display.
"Well?" Bob demanded.
"Well what?" said Chrissy with a smile.
"Don't keep me in suspense," he growled. "How'd it go?"
"How'd what go?" she grinned.
He grabbed for her and began to tickle her. He often "punished" her by tickling her. She went wild whenever he did so, and she did now.
As she squirmed his hands fluttered across the sides of her breasts. She squealed "Okay, okay, I'll tell you!" and he stopped, feeling the old familiar stiffening in his pants begin. She was panting, and it made her breasts fill out her blouse nicely. He noticed two stiff points and realized she wasn't wearing a bra.
"It was okay," she said. "The campus was small. They don't really have dorms there, and I'd have to rent someplace off campus to live. I might check out State later. We'll have to see." She took the stack of books and left for the shelves.
Life went on. Three months later, Bob came in and saw Chrissy leafing through a copy of Playpen Magazine.
Bob didn't buy used magazines, but he stocked a full line of new magazines, including some adult ones.
"Chrissy, you know you're too young to be handling those," he said. There was a State inspector who came around sometimes, and when he found out Bob hired High Schoolers he began spouting about how no one under 18 could touch the adult magazines, even to sell them. He made a prick of himself for a while, and even sent in some undercover people to try to buy them from a teenager.
Bob had impressed on his employees, however, that the store would be closed down if they got caught. He'd rather lose a sale than have that happen. It was Chrissy, in fact, who had figured out how to beat the system. A man had come in to buy a copy of "Blond Buxom Bitches" and Chrissy calmly told him that while she couldn't touch the magazine, she could take his money. So he held the mag, and she rang it up and he left.
In response to his warning she said simply, "Okay" and put the magazine back in the rack. He thought it was a little odd though. He went into the back room to make himself a cup of coffee. He had what amounted to an apartment in the back of the store. There was a small kitchen, and a couch that doubled as a bed when he wanted to take a nap. The bathroom was back there too.
That couch was where he and Chrissy's mother had let their feelings go. He stared at the couch, remembering Colleen lying back on it, breasts heaving, legs open, her red hair disheveled and her arms reaching for him. Her welcome was real too. He knew this when he dropped his pants and she saw his erection for the first time. Her eyes had widened and she'd licked her lips. He was long. He was really long. While he didn't really have anyone to compare himself too, according to his wife, and then Colleen, he was much longer than normal. But Colleen had welcomed him anyway, and had sighed happily when he'd plumbed her depths with that spear of love, the tip abusing her cervix every time he slammed in deep. It turned out she loved that feeling.
But when it went off, deep inside her, stretching the mouth of her womb, she'd demanded that he leave it in her, so he knew she offered herself out of love. It had been very good ... for both of them. It was when she panted, "I could get used to this," that they knew things had to be cut off.
Another month went by and school started. Chrissy was a Senior this year, but she was smart enough that school wasn't much of a contest for her. She continued to work in the store.
It was on a Saturday in September that Bob's world was shaken. He and Chrissy were working when a man came in. He selected a book and when he brought it to the counter he began staring at Chrissy. That wasn't all that unusual. She was beautiful, after all. But this man's scrutiny was intense.
"You know" he said. "You look just like the centerfold in this month's Playpen." Then his eyes widened, as he realized what he'd just said ... to an obvious teenager ... while her boss looked on. "Oh gosh, miss! I'm sorry. Itís just that ... well, the resemblance is ... oh, never mind .. I'm sorry."
He was so flustered that he paid for his book with a ten dollar bill and left without getting his change.
Chrissy just giggled. Bob thought that was odd too. But what the man had said stuck in his mind, and on his way out that night, he grabbed a copy of Playpen to take home with him.
He had in mind to have a nice slow beat off session. While Bob had convinced himself to try not to think of Chrissy when he masturbated, he was also resigned to the fact that he usually thought of her as his semen spurted. So, if Miss September looked a little like Chrissy, so much the better.
He stripped off his clothes, lay on the bed, and opened the magazine.
It flopped open and there, before his disbelieving eyes, was his niece.
Oh, Miss September had black hair, true, but it was a wig, because the rest of the girl was Chrissy.
True, the girl looked like she was about twenty-two or three, what with the makeup, and the lighting, the librarian glasses and such, but it was Chrissy.
There, before his eyes were the same upturned breasts he'd seen a year or so ago, with those same delectable perky pink nipples. She was squeezing and caressing them in the pictures, obviously pleasuring herself.
He couldn't prove it was Chrissy by the pubic hair, because Miss September simply didn't have any. She was bald as a baby's butt. She did, however, have two plump tasty looking labia protruding, and in several poses those lips gaped apart, as if they were waiting for something to spread them further on its way into her pussy. Those pussy lips were fat and swollen, darker than he thought they should be - she was excited. And in all the photos her eyes bore straight into the observer's, as if to say, "Here I am, all for you."
And it was Chrissy.
He was sure.
But it couldn't be. She was too young for one thing. It had to be illegal for a magazine to publish pictures of a seventeen year old girl. And there was another problem. One of the pictures, the last one in the spread, showed her lying back on some pillows, arms out, knees up and spread, and there was something thick and white pooled in those open pussy lips. It was obvious this girl had just been fucked. Chrissy wouldn't have done that. In fact she didn't even date! He was quite sure his Chrissy was a virgin.
But it looked like her.
It was her.
He knew those eyes, those lips, that smile... and yes, even those nipples. He realized his hand was wrapped firmly around his aching prick. He stroked and looked at Miss September. As his semen blasted out, he stared at the cum pooling in the mouth of Chrissy's pussy.
He hadn't cum this hard since he'd cum in her mother.
He didn't see her for three more days. She came in after school. Everything was the same. Same, "Hi Uncle Bob". Same kiss. Same hug. Same erection.
He had to know.
"Um .. Peaches? I need to talk to you," he said.
"Bout what?" she said. She was straightening things again.
"About what that man said last week. About Playpen," he said.
Chrissy turned and looked at him with a level stare. "Did you look in the magazine?" she said.
She walked to the door, turned the lock and then flipped the sign over from 'Open' to 'Closed'. Then, without a word, she took his hand and led him to the back room. He followed, knowing that something strange was going on, because she hadn't denied it. She pushed him down on the couch and stood in front of him.
"What do you want to know?" Her voice was completely normal.
His heartbeat wasn't, though. This was all too strange. He watched, dumbstruck as she unbuttoned the top button of her shirt.
"Why?" he said.
She unbuttoned the second button. "For you," she said softly.
"For me," he repeated.
Now there was only one button left. The skin that was showing made it obvious she wasn't wearing a bra.
"Remember when you walked in on me in the bathroom?" she said. He nodded and she went on. "The look on your face was something I've never forgotten. You made me feel so special, just by the way you looked at me. It made me all tingly inside. When you left I had to ... touch myself. No one has ever made me feel that special."
"You touched yourself?" he said dumbly.
She shed the blouse and stood topless, clad only in her jeans and shoes. There were her magnificent perky breasts, with their wonderful tasty-looking nipples. She pinched them. "Yes, I had to. I felt so sexy. You had this huge lump in your pants, and I knew it was because of me. I knew you wanted me. I knew you wanted to ... fuck me." She squeezed her nipple with one hand while the other one went to the snap of her jeans.<
"No," he said, trying to deny what he felt.
"Yes," she said, as she pulled the zipper down on her jeans. She kicked off her shoes and began to slide the jeans down. "Just like now, Uncle Bob. You're hard now Uncle Bob ... aren't you?" She pushed her panties down with her jeans. His eyes darted to her exposed flesh.
No pubic hair.
"But you wouldn't see me as a woman, Uncle Bob," she went on, stepping out of the jeans. She dropped them and stood, gloriously naked in front of him, hands on hips. "So I had to arrange it for you to see me as a woman ... in Playpen."
His mouth was dry. He licked his lips. Unconsciously he arranged his meat to a more comfortable position. "But you're too young," he said.
"I gave them a fake birth certificate," she said, taking a step toward him. "I wanted you to see me as a woman, because you make me feel like a woman." She came closer.
"BBBBBut you're my niece!" he stammered.
"I don't care," she said. She leaned down and kissed her Uncle. He was immediately lost in that kiss. He hadn't been kissed with that much passion for many many years. He felt her hands at his clothing, felt her standing him up, felt his clothing begin to fall off of his body.
She broke the kiss, panting. "I want you to make me a woman Uncle Bob," she gasped.
He thought about the picture with her pussy full of spooge.
"But the pictures ... the one where you'd just been .... there was sperm in your ..."
She kissed him again, pressing her breasts to his naked chest. When she pulled back she said, "Hand lotion. It was my idea. I wanted you to see me that way ... to think of me that way ... to want me that way. I've never ... done it. I want you to be my first."
There were more kisses, of course, but by now Bob had left behind any and all objections. He was captivated by this winsome woman. He knew she was too young to embark on this path, but he had to have her.
Her whimper as his rock hard penis penetrated her for the first time reminded him of her inexperience. Ten minutes later she whimpered for another reason as her first penis-induced orgasm flowed through her like maverick electrical pulses. She lay beneath him on the couch, spread eagerly for him as he rodded her with his long prong. She whispered "Yes" over and over again, wanting him like her mother had.
He knew he shouldn't cum in her, knew somehow that she wasn't on the pill. But the urge to push into her innermost secret place was too strong. Once the tip of his cock mashed into her cervix he knew all he had to do was alter the angle a little and, as the first pulse of his seed spat out of his prick, he slipped it into her womb. He let the next four spurts paint that cave as he kissed her. Chrissy, for her part, flopped like a rag doll. She got way more than she bargained for. And what she got made her very happy.
They spent the next two hours making love. She wanted to try his prick in every position. She confirmed that she was unprotected, but demanded that he put his sperm where it was intended to go. He asked her about nursing school, but she said that was an excuse to go and have the photo shoot. They'd paid her enough to fund two semesters of school, but she said she wanted to stay here and have his babies. All these things were said as he pumped more and more of his baby batter into her nubile young body.
As they lay, finally spent, exhausted, he sighed. "They're beautiful dreams, Peaches, but your mother isn't likely to see things like you do. We can't keep doing this."
She giggled. "I told my mom about you walking in on me. I told her how it made me feel. She told me how you made her feel. She said my first time should be with a man I really loved and trusted, and who I knew loved me, too. Whose idea do you think it was to do the Playpen spread?"
He managed to put another half cup of sperm in her after all.
Thoughts or comments you'd like to share with the author?
Fill out the form below to contact Bob.
A valid e-mail address is required so the author can respond to your feedback.
Bob feels your opinions and thoughts are important.