The Shelby And The Niece

by Lubrican

Bob Sanders left the kitchen, walked across the minuscule patch of green that was called his back yard and entered the four car garage behind his house that was responsible for the back yard being so tiny. It was brightly lit and he had an unobstructed view of a 1968 Shelby GT 350 Mustang that was in the stall closest to him. It was one of the first convertibles Carroll Shelby had ever made, or at least made for sale to the public. It had once been forest green, though right now it was a patchwork of different colors, most of them primer of one shade or another. It had no wheels, was up on blocks and the hood was up.

Hanging over the fender, coming from under that hood, was a pair of well-filled, tight cutoff jeans, with a pair of legs dropping out of them that were slim, tanned and slightly spread. The feet on the ends of those legs were equally bare and were pointed, as if the girl they were attached to was in the middle of a dive into a swimming pool. The owner of the ass and legs was balanced, with her upper torso inside the engine compartment and the rest of her hanging out from under the hood. Had the cutoffs been missing, it was an ass that would have been perfectly positioned for a doggy style rear entry that would soon have the entering prick fountaining its seed.

Bob's own prick began to fill with blood at the sight. Then he shook his head and reminded himself that this particular ass was that of his niece Heather, who was not only his brother's daughter, but was just sixteen to boot. He shook his head again. She was a mixture of things that was beginning to confuse him. Of course he'd known her since she was a baby. All through her life she had been coming to her Uncle Bob's house on the beach in California from her home in Montana where she lived with her parents and brother, who was a year younger than she was.

There was a clang that Bob recognized as a wrench hitting the floor and a muttered oath from inside the engine compartment. The ass wiggled in front of him as she changed her center of balance and began to drop backwards, off the car. Bob stepped forward and grabbed her hips as her upper torso and a brown pony tail appeared. He set her down gently on the cement floor. She turned before he could let go and his hands brushed across the front and back of the jeans as her front came into view.

There were a series of confusing images that flashed through Bob's consciousness: white teeth, the tip of a pink tongue, substantial cleavage, arms going around his neck.

Then her body was pressed against his and he went into sensory overload as she chirped "UNCLE BOB! Hi! Guess what? I got that broken stud out! Isn't that cool? Now we can put the headers on and start it up!"

All the while her braless breasts were rubbing against his chest as she draped her arms around his neck and talked to him from three inches away.

He didn't have a chance. His prick flashed to full erection and pressed into the front of those jeans he had just been admiring and touching. He tried to pull away from her, but she tightened her arms which just pulled her closer, and pressed her groin more firmly against his.

She didn't bat an eye or even indicate she felt it.

In truth, she probably didn't. Heather was all girl, physically, but she didn't think of herself as one. At least not until lately. Her body had matured ahead of schedule, which disgusted her as it began to get in the way of the things she liked to do. That's because Heather was the quintessential tomboy. She loved football, climbing trees, cutting wood, riding the range and working on her father's farm equipment. But most of all she loved old muscle cars and rebuilding them with her Uncle Bob.

He had a collection of sorts. He had a '67 GTO that was completely restored as if it had just rolled off the assembly line. He had a '32 Deuce Coupe that had been built as a street rod, with canary yellow paint and red and orange flames all across the hood and front fenders. He had a '72 Super Bee that was a pile of junk, sitting in the end bay. They hadn't started on it yet. And, of course, he had the Shelby, which was their latest project.

Heather had helped work on them all. She was even the one who found the Super Bee behind a barn in the county where she lived. The farmer who had then owned it had gotten it along with the farm when he bought it at auction. She managed to talk him out of the car in exchange for helping him get his hay in one summer. He let her dig through the junk in the barn, where she found an extra engine, transmission, seats and some extra fenders. Bob had gone to pick up the car and his niece, who was staying with him for the whole summer between her junior and senior years in High School. She had gotten her driver's license since she last visited, and couldn't wait to drive the Shelby. She didn't care that the seat was mostly just springs and that it still needed some body work. She loved power and speed. The exhaust was the last thing keeping the car in the garage. That and finding some wheels and tires, but that was easy. Bob reminded himself to call his supplier and order a set to be delivered. Bob was rich and could do things like that. He could have had the cars rebuilt for him, but it was his hobby.

Bob finally gave up trying to separate his erection from the front of his niece's jeans.

"Excellent" he said, not knowing what to do with his hands, which had raised to her bare midriff. She was wearing one of his old short sleeve button up shirts, with the tails tied in a knot just under her breasts. The shirt might have had some buttons fastened on it originally, but they weren't now. His eyes were drawn to the smooth white valley between her breasts. She saw where he was looking.

"Uncle Bob!" she chided him. "You're as bad as the boys back home! All of you are all the same! Even Mark, my own brother! I caught him trying to peek at me in the shower last month. All you guys think about is sex sex sex!"

She didn't push him away, though. And her groin was still plastered firmly against his big bulge.

Bob figured honesty was the best policy. He hadn't been confronted with his niece's maturity quite in this manner before, but he banked on their prior ability to talk about just about anything.

"Well, sweety, when a girl looks as beautiful as you do, and smells as good as you do, and feels like you do, there isn't a man on the planet who could resist trying to get a peek at your charms."

Heather looked down at her chest. Then, to his amazement she pulled the knot of the shirt away from her body, leaning back from him, until they could both see her bare breasts through the gap in the front of the shirt. His stunned eyes took in puffy pink nipples on the tips of nice heavy looking globes of white flesh.

"Charms ... I've never heard them called THAT!" she stated.

Then, as if she realized she had just exposed her breasts to a man, she blushed and pushed him away. "I thought I could at least trust YOU!" she said accusingly.

He grabbed her hands before they were too far away and held them.

"Heather" he said in his no nonsense voice. "You CAN trust me. I will NEVER do anything to you to hurt you. I LOVE you. I may SEE you as a very desirable and sexy woman, but I will TREAT you like my niece. THAT you can trust!"

She looked at him with something in her eyes he couldn't quite interpret.

"Well, OK" she finally said. "At least you TRIED to get your boner off of me. Most guys try to push it AGAINST me."

Apparently she HAD felt it after all.

"Sorry about that" he said, sincerely. "It just sort of happened when I came in and saw your ... butt ... hanging out from under the hood of the Shelby."

She giggled "You sure it wasn't just the Shelby?"

He snorted. "Trust me. You're MUCH sexier than that car."

She made a mock bow, exposing most of her teen breasts again. "Why THANK you sir. A girl's always happy to know she's sexier than a car."

She straightened back up and leaned back against the fender of the car, looking thoughtful. Her eyes dropped until he knew they were fixed on the front of his shorts.

"Uncle Bob?" she said, her voice suddenly serious.

"Yes?" he said back, folding his arms and ignoring what he knew was a tent in the front of his baggies.

"I don't understand this girly stuff very well," she said. There wasn't much he could say in response so he said nothing. "I mean the guys really do act all funny around me now ... not like they used to. When we go out they all want to sit next to me and touch me and dance with me and stuff and it's weird. And my own brother? Trying to sneak peeks at me? And Ralph Watkins? He's the captain of the football team at school where I go? He tried to KISS me when a bunch of us were at the drive in just before you came and picked me up! I had to sock him one in the stomach to get him away from me! I don't know what to do about all this. Why do boys act like that Uncle Bob?"

She looked so sweet and gorgeous. His prick was still at attention and he knew there was nothing he could do about it right now. Later maybe, but not now.

"OK" he said. "Like I said, you're pretty." She frowned. "No, listen to me Heather. I mean it. You may not think so, but from a guy's perspective, everything about you is the kind of thing that makes men want to make babies."

Her eyes got a little wider. He almost groaned as he realized what he'd just said. It had just popped out that way.

"I shouldn't have said it quite like that. It's hard to explain," he said.

"Try," she said, looking interested all of a sudden.

He thought about it. She WAS old enough to understand, after all. And maybe explaining it to her might help her adjust to her changing situation.

"OK," he said. "It's not like we look at you and, in our minds, say 'I want to make a baby in Heather.' But our subconscious mind, that we aren't even aware of, sees you and IT thinks that, and our bodies react. Hormones flow and that affects how we act. It's just biology. We're not actually in charge of our own bodies sometimes. Until we use our thinking mind to stop the process. It's sort of like the prehistoric part of me wants to make babies with every good looking woman I see, while the modern part of me says 'Gee Bob, that's not appropriate behavior, so don't do it'."

She was still staring at his crotch. She pointed at his boner. "So that's the prehistoric part of you, wanting to make a baby with me," she said it very matter-of-factly, as if it weren't taboo.

It unnerved him a little.

"Well, um .. yeah .. I guess it is."

She looked up at his face now. "But the modern you doesn't want to touch me."

That sounded pretty harsh. "Well, it's not quite like THAT. I mean I'm aware of how beautiful you are, and how nice it would be to ... to be able to have a physical relationship with you, I suppose ... except it isn't allowed. So I don't."

"But you want to." She was implacable.

He had a feeling that if he said "No I don't want to bone you" it would somehow be the wrong answer. But he couldn't admit he wanted to fuck her brains out. He tried to moderate. "Yes, if you put it that way, but it isn't appropriate." This was getting a little strange. "Let me say it this way: Have you ever wanted to bash in somebody’s head? Because they did something you didn't like?"

"Sure" she said.

"But you don't ... right?"

"Sure, you'd get caught and get put in jail."

"OK" he said. "It's the same thing. I may have an urge, but I don't follow through on it because there are consequences."

She thought for a minute and then smiled. "I'm hungry. Is it lunch time yet?"

Just like that she was a kid again.

They ate lunch and she reminded him that she needed a new bathing suit since she'd outgrown the one she had last year. He could believe that after seeing her luscious titties. They were big and juicy. They hopped in the Deuce and he let her drive. She didn't rod it, even though it could do sixty in about four and a half seconds. People stared at the car and the girl driving it. He could tell she was having fun. He understood that intimately, because he felt the same way when he drove that car around town.

They meandered through the mall until they came to a surf shop that sold swimwear. He looked at boards while she picked through swimsuits.

"I'm gonna try some of these on" she said, with an armful of colorful cloth. "You sit over there so you can tell me what you think." She pointed to a chair that faced the changing booth. He sat and was chatted up by a sales girl who saw money in his attitude and was hoping for a date with the handsome, rich man. She was cute, but predatory, so he kept it cool.

"Ahem" he heard and turned his head.

He choked back a gasp. Heather was wearing a bikini ... what there was of it ... that was the same color as the Deuce Coupe. It was typically Californian, consisting of two Band-Aid sized circles that covered her nipples, and a long strip of cloth about an inch and a half wide that cupped her pussy lips while it covered them. Her pubic bush, while not thick, was visible on the sides of the bottom. There were 'strings' too, that held all the pieces together. She twirled. The strings that went over her hips disappeared between her buttocks, which were completely bare.

"Well?" she asked, turning back to face him.

Bob gulped. He'd seen women wearing these things while he was at the beach, but he generally looked at them out of the corner of his eyes. this was the first time he'd actually fixed his full attention on a girl wearing one.

His mouth was dry. He had to swallow again.

"It's kind of brief, don't you think?" he croaked. He was glad he was sitting down. He hadn't been this hard in a long time. "I like it" he said, a little more strongly "But your daddy would KILL me if I let you wear that out in public."

She dimpled. "Silly ... this is for sunbathing in the back yard ... not the beach. I wouldn't go out in public in THIS. And ... I'll have to do something about this."

Her fingers grabbed the errant pubic hairs outside the suit and pulled them gently. Then she turned and vanished back into the changing booth. the sales girl had disappeared as soon as she realized Heather was with Bob. She knew she couldn't compete. Bob sat there, trying to get his rampant prick to relax. He saw movement and looked up.

This one was a one piece. It was between red and maroon and sparkled, like it had metal flakes in it. It covered her front, while leaving her sides completely bare. Again, the strings that held it on did nothing to cover her back and slipped between her buttocks, leaving her ass bare.

Again she twirled "Public or private?" she asked.

Bob groaned. "Private, though not as private as the other one."

She grinned.

The next one was just like that one, except it was green. The one after that was basic white. It covered her butt, sweeping forward to meet in a tied gather between the bottom and top, then swelled out to cover her breasts. A string went around her neck. It covered everything, but drew attention to everything it covered. Still ... it covered everything.

"And this one?" she said, twirling and looking in the mirror.

"That one I can let you out of the house in." said Bob.

They took their purchases home and Heather immediately wanted to go to the beach in her new suit. Bob was already wearing his baggies, so he grabbed his board and they trooped down to the beach, about 200 yards behind his house. He didn't own the beach, of course, but it was relatively lightly used, because it was a long way from the public entrances. There were only twenty five or so people lying around, swimming or surfing when they got there. Heather went running into the surf, laughing and jumping while Bob put a coat of wax on the board. He'd promised Heather he'd teach her how to surf this summer. Her visits in the past had been too short to give her good instruction.

"I'm ready" he heard her yell as he buffed the last coat of wax. He turned and his mouth fell open. He should have thought about that white suit.

It had no foundation in it. When it got wet it was translucent. Her strawberry nipples showed through quite plainly. They were erect from the water and her excitement. Her brown bush showed through just as plainly. But most devastating of all were the two plump pussy lips that were clearly defined by the wet suit, just below that patch of brown. It drew the eye, and it drew that eye right to her pussy. The suit just screamed "Fuck Me!"

He groaned. He was hard as a rock again. Heather saw the twist of his face and his glassy eyed-stare.

"What's wrong?" she shouted as she got closer. The suit did very little to support her bouncing breasts. He wanted nothing more than to throw her down and breed her right then and there.

"Your suit" he gasped. She looked down, but it was difficult for her to see what he was able to see.

"What?" she asked, looking at her legs.

"I can see through it," he said in a strangled voice.

She strained and gawked, but still couldn't see it straight on, like he could. "No you can't" she said in a chiding voice.

"Yes he can," came a voice from about ten feet away.

They both turned and looked at the woman who had spoken. She was bronze and slim, probably in her late twenties or early thirties. She had the sun-bleached good looks that were common on the West coast. She was wearing a copy of the Band-Aid suit that Bob had classified "private" for his niece.

"Though," she went on "on you it looks pretty good. You have a really nice camel toe," she said conversationally, as if strangers commented on each other's pussy lips all the time. "But you should probably shave. You can leave a long thin vertical strip, but you have just a little too much. You have good nipples for that kind of suit too. All in all I'd say it was a very good choice for you." She turned to Bob. "I had in mind to introduce myself. I was watching you work on your board. But ..." she looked back at Heather "I can see that would be a waste of my time. Too bad." Then, as if she'd just done the most normal thing in the world, she went back to reading a thick paperback book.

Bob's mouth was hanging open. He started to explain "But she's my ..."

Heather cut him off "She knows who I am Bob. I said I was ready. Let's go. I want to take a shower and get all this salt off of me." She picked up her towel and stood, waiting for her Uncle to figure out she had just changed the rules and wanted him to take her back to the house instead of teaching her to surf.

Bob was still trying to figure out where he fell off the turnip wagon. Why had she called him Bob instead of Uncle Bob? Then he realized she was probably trying to gracefully get off the beach in her transparent suit.

"OK ... sure honey" he said, picking up his board. They trudged up toward the house. He waited until they were out of earshot of the woman and then spoke again. "Sorry" he said. "I shouldn't have said anything ... but it was so obvious. I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of that woman."

"Oh, I wasn't embarrassed" she said, taking his arm as they walked through the deep sand. "I just didn't want her to know I was your niece. She thought I was your girlfriend."

"What?" said Bob, stumbling in the sand. Her hand on his elbow saved him from sprawling on the gravelly sand.

"Well" she looked hurt. "It doesn't hurt anything does it? I mean she was gunning for you Uncle Bob. If she'd have found out I was your niece she would have swooped and swallowed you up. I'd have been all alone on the beach in a see through suit." She craned her neck again "Even though I can't tell.

"No she wouldn't!" yelped her Uncle, a little belatedly.

"Yes she would." said his niece. "Have you looked at the front of your pants lately?"

He looked down. It looked like he had a grapefruit in his shorts.

"But that was because of you, not her ..." he said it before he could stop himself. "I mean ... it was already there when she ... I mean ... ohhhh fuck."

He gave up as Heather's laughter tinkled beside him.

"Uncle Bob" she said in a voice she might have used with a five year old, "We've already established that your body wants to make babies with my body. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

Bob spent half a minute being thoroughly stunned by how well she was taking all this new way of thinking about her body. By then they were back at the house. She went in and went straight to the master bathroom, which she rarely used, since there was a shower in "her" bathroom. He heard the shower going and saw the door was ajar. He thought about closing it, but before he could the shower stopped.

"Uncle Bob?" she yelled. "Don't you have a full length mirror in your room?"

"Uh, yeah" he yelled back.

She came breezing through the door, still dressed in the suit, and was dripping wet.

"Sorry about the water" she said, as she walked to the mirror.

She stood, looking at how transparent the material was. Her face bloomed bright red.

"I might as well not be wearing it" she gasped.

"I told you" he said, somewhat smugly.

She was still looking, turning this way and that. "She was right. I DO need to shave. I mean I knew I'd have to lose some of it for the back yard suit ... but ... yeah, I think she's right." She turned to him. "Do you have a razor I can borrow?"

Bob thought about the Shick Velvet Glide he used every day on his face. With a new blade it would be good for what she was talking about. But, could he ever shave his face with the same razor she used to shave her ... pussy? If he tried he'd probably rip himself to shreds, just thinking about it.

"I've probably got something" he mumbled.

She stood, facing him, in her transparent suit. He finally figured out she was waiting for him to get the razor. Still painfully erect, he got it, a new blade and some shaving cream. He handed them to her. She gave him a dazzling smile, turned and disappeared back into his bathroom. This time she closed the door.

Bob decided to beat off right then and there, to ease the pressure. It seemed like his prick had been hard most of the day, and his balls were beginning to ache. He didn't dare get naked, so he just pushed his baggies down and started jerking off while standing in the middle of his bedroom. His towel was on the bed and he hobbled over to get it to catch his spend. It felt better already, knowing he was going to get to shoot, and he slowed down a little, to enjoy the feeling. He worked himself closer and closer ...

"Uncle Bob?" came her yell through the door.

He looked and saw the knob turning. In panic, he jerked his shorts back up, pinning his iron hard cock to his stomach. He jerked his hands away from his shorts just as the door opened and her head stuck through.

"I need a really big favor," she said.

Bob was standing in an unnatural pose, with his knees slightly bent and his hands hanging at his sides, but away from his body a little, almost like he was on a surf board. He straightened up.

"What" he said distractedly.

"I can't do this" she said. She frowned and peered at him closely.

"What do you mean you can't do it?" he said.

"I can't even shave my legs without cutting them to ribbons. This is even harder. I can't seem to get the razor to cut anything at all." She seemed to be distracted by something.

With sudden crystal clarity, Bob understood her problem. She needed scissors first.

"You need scissors first. I have some. They're in the drawer ... in there," he said. She looked at him a little longer and then disappeared back into the bathroom.

"I can't find them. Come find them" she yelled.

He went to the door. "Are you decent?"

She laughed. "You saw me in that suit. What more is there to see?"

There was a long pause. He knew if he went in there and she was naked, he'd fill his shorts with spooge.

Finally she said "Yes I'm decent. Don't be such a boob."

He went to the door. She had a towel wrapped around her. She was staring at his waist. He went past her into the bathroom, got the small scissors out of the drawer and then saw himself in the mirror.

The head of his cock was sticking out of his waistband.

When he'd pulled his shorts back up he hadn't pulled them quite far enough. He wasn't circumcised and the hood covered most of the head. But he could see his piss hole and a little circle of skin around it. Hfelt his face flush with heat and wanted to smash his head against the wall. But he couldn't. He fixed it by tugging at the waistband, turned and handed the scissors to her. He tried to go back past her again but she stopped him. She didn't look down or make any sign that she'd seen him.

"Look, this isn't working. I need help."

He looked at her dumbly. "I need you to help me," she said.

"But ..." he gasped.

She held one finger up to his lips and pressed it against them. "Like I said. You saw me before. It's not that different. We'll just snip and shave and it will be all over, OK?"

He couldn't believe she was saying this. It WOULDN'T be the same. She would be NAKED! He would be TOUCHING her!

"I don't think I can do this Heather" he groaned. "You don't understand honey. You'd be NAKED. I'd be TOUCHING you. I don't think I could take it."

"It will be just fine" she said in a soothing voice. She dropped the towel. "See, it's just me. I look just like I did in the wet suit. You can see just a teeny bit more than you could if I was wearing my back yard suit. Come on Uncle Bob, I need your help. Pleeease?"

He was paralyzed. She was standing naked in front of him. Her breasts were right there, inches away. They looked so soft and round and those strawberry nipples poking out looked so tasty. He closed his eyes. That was better. He took several breaths ... deep breaths ... and forced himself to relax. She was his niece. He could do this.

"OK" he said, his teeth clenched.

"Goody" she said. Her hands took his elbows and she walked him further into the room. "Where should I sit?"

He almost pulled it off.


He had her sit on the counter beside the sink, with her butt right at the edge. He got a bench from the vanity in his room and sat it in front of her. She pulled up her knees and held them with her hands. Then, as he sat down, she spread her legs. He almost got dizzy. She was spread before him. He could see it all. She had smeared shaving cream all over her mons, and it was still thick with the stuff. He had to comb it out and then wash it off with a washcloth so he could use the scissors.

"Remember what she said" Heather said, craning her neck forward, trying to see what he was doing. "About leaving a strip."

He snipped carefully, actually able to concentrate on just the hair.

It was the shaving part that got him. First he had to rub in the cream. Then he had to hold her skin and pull it to keep it tight so he could pull the blade against it. Then it turned out that her hair grew with a down grain, and the only way he could get it really smooth was to shave upward. That meant he had to press on her pussy lips and hold them tight while he dragged the razor upwards.

She began to fidget.

"Wait a minute" she said, breathing heavily. "This isn't comfortable." "Couldn't I lie down? That would make it easier."

He stood up, and she jumped down. He followed her into the bedroom where she lay herself on his bed, scooting her butt right to the edge. She propped a bunch of pillows behind her back saying "I want to watch," and then spread her legs so far she looked like she was doing the splits.

"This is better" she said.

He watched in horror as her pussy lips spread open. She glistened inside, as if she were ... wet. He still had one whole side to go. The first side was smooth and bare. The other side was harder to get to because he was right handed. He went slowly, pressing on the top of her slit and dragging the razor upwards carefully.

"Mmmmm" said Heather.

"What?" he said.

"That feels ... good," she said.

"It's not supposed to feel good Heather," he said in a gruff voice. He took another stroke and, in the process of stretching her skin, realized he was pushing his fingers right on the hood of skin that shielded her clit. No wonder it felt good.

He couldn't resist. His fingers rubbed in a circle around her bud.

"Unnggh" she groaned. "It may not supposed to feel good," she said, her voice breathy, "but it really does." Her hips jerked as he continued to rub gently. "That feels sooo good." She sounded like she'd never felt that way before.

"Honey?" he said, shaving another stroke.

"Umm?" she said, her eyes heavy lidded now.

"Do you masturbate?"

She blushed and her eyes opened. "Of course not!" she said. "Grandma told me what would happen if I did."

He wanted to grin. "Blind or Crazy?" he asked.

She looked at him like he was crazy.

"She said it would be both."

"She lied" he said as he took another stroke. He was almost done now. She did in fact have one long narrow strip of pubic hair left.

"What!?" asked Heather.

"I said she lied. Mom - your Grandmother - was raised in a different world than you and I. Back then they believed a lot of things that just weren't true. One of the things they believed was that masturbation was a bad thing. So they made up horrible tales about what would happen to people who did it, to try to keep them from doing it. But they were lies. It doesn't hurt a thing. In fact it helps in lots of situations. There's nothing wrong with masturbating."

"Well I still don't" said Heather defensively.

"That's why what I'm doing feels so good. I'm actually masturbating you ... a little."

"What?" her eyes got bigger.

"This" he put his finger on her button "is your clitoris. It reacts to pressure" he pressed on it and rubbed his finger back and forth. She wiggled her butt but clamped her mouth shut to keep from making any noise. "And I HAVE to do it, to keep the skin tight while I shave you" he said. He pinched her pussy lips, squeezing them together to cover her clit, and pulled them away from her body while he ran the razor up the side of the line of hair that was left. His fingers still pressed her clitty, through the lips of her labia.

She couldn't stop a moan from escaping between her lips.

"If I were to do this ..." He ran the pinched lips in a circle that massaged her tender teen clitty. With her legs spread the way they were, in the splits, she couldn't hump her hips up off the bed, but her pelvis tilted as she tried to. "It would feel REALLY good. And ... If I did this .." He put two fingers on he bud and vibrated them back and forth. Her mouth burst open in an open moan. "If I did that long enough, you'd have an orgasm. That's what masturbation feels like."

Her eyes were smoky now, and half lidded again. She was panting.

"You aren't finished yet are you? There was an unspoken message there, that his prehistoric brain heard loud and clear.

He continued with the shaving until it was done. It only took a few more careful swipes with the razor, which he know knew he'd never throw away until the day he died.

Then ... he masturbated his niece to orgasm. She quaked and her arms moved her body, as if to get away from him, but all she did was move enough to be able to bend her knees and get her heels on the edge of the bed. At the very end, when it was obvious by her cries of "What's happening to me?" and "I feel so strange" that she was on the verge of an orgasm, and her hips were making fucking motions against his fingers, he couldn't help himself.

He leaned in, slurped up her clitty in his mouth and sucked hard on it.

She wailed and had her very first orgasm. It left her shaken and almost scared at the intensity of it. Her eyes had watched his mouth suck at her sex. She'd heard of such things, of course, but had no idea what it would feel like and had never even considered that it might happen to her. In the time it took her to have that first orgasm, she decided she wanted to have that feeling again and again.

And then again.

And the look on her Uncle's face when he sat back as she relaxed from her muscle wrenching experience ... no man had ever looked at her like that. It made her want to have another orgasm right then and there. Dimly she remembered his speech, and realized that part of her wanted to have this man's baby. She was amazed, both at the feeling, and at how smart her Uncle was. Something else in his eye made her ask a question she thought she'd never ask anyone.

"Uncle Bob .. do YOU masturbate?"

"Oh yeah, baby, and I really need to right now. You have me going so much sweetheart. I need to go." He started to stand up, and she said "Wait!"

He looked at her and she said "You can do it here. I want you to do it here."

A shadow flickered across his face as he thought about that. She was still splayed before him, wide open, limp and satisfied. He fantasized about dropping his shorts and filling her unfucked pussy with its first cock.

But he couldn't do that. She wasn't ready and he loved her too much. Masturbating in front of her might scare her. But it WOULD ease his pain and he knew he could cum quickly.

"Are you sure?" he huffed.

She nodded and brought her own hand to her pussy. Experimentally she slipped one finger between her lips and found her love bud. She shivered as she pressed on it and felt the same thrill. Well .. almost the same. When her Uncle did it, it felt even better. But it still felt wonderful. She froze when he stood and pushed his shorts down to his thighs. She'd seen her brother when he took a piss in the grass while they were herding cattle.

But this was something different. He was HUGE. It was long AND thick. It wasn't as big as a bull's, but WOW! She knew the mechanics of sex, and knew that the thing she was looking at was made to go inside a woman, but it was hard to believe that was actually possible. Still, it looked SO interesting! It was smooth, but bumpy too, somehow. Then he moved his hand back and the hood uncovered the head and she gasped. Under that skin there was a knob! It was a round hard looking ball that was shiny and dark, almost purple. There was a hole in the end. That was where her brother pissed out of. But this one had a thick drop of something white that was oozing out of that little eye. SPERM! His prick was making sperm ... to make babies with.

She rubbed her pussy harder now. She was so wet and slippery down there! But it made it easy to rub and it felt sooo good. Her eyes were glued to his penis as he slid his hand forward again. The hood covered up that knob again and then, like magic it was bare as his hand whipped back. She watched in awe as his hand flashed forward and backward. She rubbed her pussy faster, feeling that wonderful, amazing feeling starting to come back.

One of her fingers slipped inside her and she liked that feeling too. She added another one and soon she was slicking both of them in and out as she rubbed over her stiff clitty.

He was groaning now ... grunting ... his face was all screwed up into a frozen mask. Then the rest of him froze too. Her eyes darted back to the tip of his cock and it seemed to swell. The knob was uncovered again. The slit opened and she was shocked as a stream of thick white fluid shot out. It splatted on her stomach and she realized it was hot.

She knew what it was, and she was shocked at how thrilling it felt to have it on her body. Then he was shooting another stream at her, but this one was lower and it landed on her fingers, right where they rubbed her pussy. She lifted her hand just as a third rope of sticky sperm lanced out of his cock. This one splashed right on her pussy lips and she shuddered.

She slapped her hand back onto her pussy, feeling the warm gooey mess he had made. It felt wonderful, and she rubbed it into her pussy as that feeling washed over her again. This time wasn't quite as shattering as the first time, but she buzzed and hummed with joy at the fantastic feeling of the orgasm she was having with his hot stuff on her pussy.

Yes. She wanted to do this a lot.

Bob felt his knees going to liquid as his cum splattered on his niece's pussy and she rubbed it in, slicking one sperm covered finger up into her virgin slot. He felt himself falling, but he couldn't do anything about it. He'd never felt an orgasm like this. His cock was still spurting as he hit the floor and curled up into a ball. Dimly he thought about what a mess he was making on his carpet.

Suddenly she was there, clasping his face between one dry hand and one slick gooey one that was covered with both his and her juices. She was kissing his face, cooing that she loved him, thanking him for making her feel so good. Then her lips met his and they melted into a lovers' kiss.

Luckily, he had ejaculated every sperm cell he owned, or at least it felt like it. What that meant was that he couldn't stay hard. He was too satisfied, too tired and too freaked out at what had happened.

This was good because it meant Heather got to stay a virgin for a while longer.

After that kiss, if he'd have been hard, he'd have shoved it in her regardless of what she said.

She, on the other hand, was basking in the afterglow of two orgasms and the best kisses she had ever even thought about being involved in. She completely understood that part of the body he had been talking about. She knew she had shoved several fingerfulls of his sperm up inside her body. She was aware that there was a danger, though a small one, that she might end up pregnant because of that sperm.

She couldn't have cared less. Or at least that prehistoric part of her couldn't have cared less. It just felt ... right. She also knew that her Uncle would be the first man to have her sexually. He would take her virginity. She would let him. She would demand it of him. Before today she had never thought about giving it away. All she had ever thought of was how to keep it from being taken from her. Now she knew she would give it up gladly ... to this man. Part of her assumed it wouldn't be as neat and simple as she hoped it would be. But that didn't matter. She wanted that ... thing ... that ... PRICK ... that beautiful penis inside her body, where her finger had been and she wanted to feel all that lovely warm spermy fluid being forced into her body. She kissed him some more.

Fifteen minutes later, they slowly came back to the real world together. She was completely unembarrassed by what had happened. He knew what would happen if the world found out what they'd done. He didn't handle it quite as well.

He said he was sorry three times before she bit him on his shoulder and told him to stop. Her comfort level with what they'd done amazed him. He'd been with women before, of course, but after sex most of them had things to do and had become almost businesslike. He'd never had sex with a woman who actually loved him. He just didn't know it.


He knew better than to take a shower with her. His body would be ready to go again soon. He sent her in first, and then made her dry off while he took his own shower. Then he took the towels and used them to clean off the carpet. He asked her to put on some clothes and she did. After they had cleaned up he made them some lunch and they sat at the table, eating.

There was a comfortable silence between them. She was the first to break it.

"I understand what you were talking about now," she said. "About the prehistoric part and the modern part."

He nodded. "It's hard to explain to somebody who has never experienced that kind of feeling."

She smiled. "I like the prehistoric part."

He didn't smile. "That's dangerous" he said.

She smiled again. "I know. My modern mind knows." He nodded and she went on. "But I really like the prehistoric part."

He closed his eyes. "It's hard ... really REALLY hard ... for a guy to control his urges ... especially if the girl doesn't want to control her own. I don't want to ruin your life."

She smiled again. "Thank you for caring about me. But if you think that I'm going to spend the rest of the summer here and never do that again? You're wrong."

He groaned. "You aren't making this any easier. You know that if we keep doing that ... I'm going to want ... more. I'm going to want to ..." he didn't know how to finish.

"You're going to want to make mad passionate love to me?" she said.

He laughed, more at east. "Something like that, yes."

"Yes, I know that," she said.

"And how do you feel about that?" he said, a little nervous to ask the question.

She got up and took her dishes to the sink. Then she came back for his. Then she washed them. He was beginning to think she wasn't going to answer when she finished and dried her hands on the towel. She came over and sat on his lap, putting her arms loosely around his neck.

"I think I want to lay out in the sun for a while before we do that," she said.

She kissed him gently on the lips and got up. Then she looked pointedly at his lap, where she had felt a lump growing.

"Doesn't that thing EVER relax?" she yipped as she headed toward her bedroom.

"Not around you it doesn't" he sighed.

But inside he was overjoyed. She hadn't asked him not to, or told him he couldn't, or that she wouldn't. She hadn't asked to be taken back home to Montana. He realized the import of her attitude. He'd basically said he wanted to fuck her, and she'd basically said she'd let him. It blew his mind. He knew himself well enough to know that if she offered herself to him, he wouldn't be able to resist. So, while she caught some rays he'd go out and see what was involved in getting her on the pill. And he'd buy some condoms too. He felt better for having a plan, even if they never did anything more than mutual masturbation.

It was a good plan. It was a pragmatic plan. It was, in its own strange way a moral plan. Had he left the house immediately it might have even been a workable plan. But she put on that little yellow number ... the one she called her 'back yard suit', with the Band-Aids over her nipples and the banana peel over her pussy lips, and that left her butt completely bare. Then she came out with a towel in one hand and a bottle of Coppertone in the other.

"You're leaving?" she asked, pouting a little.

"I have some things to see to," he said, trying to sound like a normal adult male. His prehistoric self was enjoying that suit an awful lot.

"Well, I suppose that's OK" she said, and he felt a surge of relief.

Then she ambushed him.

"As long as you put some of this on me before you go. I don't want to burn." She held out the tanning oil.

Alarm bells should have gone off, but he had a plan, and he had her permission to carry it out.

One little detour couldn't hurt much, could it?

He followed her to the back yard. The grass covered only a 15' by 15' square, fenced in on two sides, with the house and garage on the other two sides. It was more like a courtyard than a back yard. But the grass was deep and lush and it was a perfect place to lie down comfortably and tan. Unfortunately it was equally perfect as a place for other activities ... which could also be conducted while lying down.

But more on that later.

She floated the towel down and lay down on her stomach. She looked naked and his cock lurched. Controlling himself he poured a long stream of oil from her neck to her buttocks and rubbed his hands all over her back and shoulders and the backs of her arms. When he got to her buttocks it just seemed natural to rub and fondle them too, covering them with slippery lotion. Then he squirted a stream down each leg and worked it into them. She spread them as he came back toward her buttocks and his fingers tickled her pussy as he let his hands bump her there.

"Naughty naughty" she murmured.

He worked her butt some more and tore himself away to lean back. "That should do you," he said, standing up.

She flipped over on her back. "I can't lie on my stomach the whole time. Do my front too." She closed her eyes.

Now full fledged air raid warnings should have gone off. But he figured he could handle doing her breasts, and the banana peel covered her pussy, so he wouldn't have to touch her there. He could do this. When he got to her breasts though, and slipped his fingers under the Band-Aids to strum her nipples, she reacted much more strongly than he'd thought she would.

She moaned and whimpered. "You never touched me there before .. that's soooo nice. I LOVE that Uncle Bob. Why didn't you touch me there before?!"

And when his hands slid over her abdomen, above her ovaries, and womb, she arched her back up off the ground.

He skipped over the banana peel and did her legs, but just when he thought he was home free she said "I might want to take off the bottoms. You better put some on there too."

Which is how Bob ended up sliding his slippery oil covered hand into the bottom of her suit as she spread her legs. And, of course, his oily finger slipped into her pussy, where he just naturally probed and found, to his prick's delight, that she had no hymen to tear. He knew she was a virgin, and figured her hymen was a victim of some accident, or saddle, or tampon or something. But her reaction to his invasion was a long drawn out "Yesssssssssssssssss"

Even then, he might have actually been able to bring her off and get up and leave, except that, while he was finger-fucking his beautiful niece, her hand snuck up into his baggies and found his rampant prick. She knew how to jack it, having seen him do it, and she did it just slowly enough to inflame him beyond reason.

First he nosed aside the Band-Aids, to see what his mouth on her nipples did. The response was extraordinary as she felt the shock of his sucking lips streak from her sensitive nips to the pussy he was prodding. She exploded in an orgasm that, unfortunately, resulted in the near destruction of her new swimsuit.

She pulled at it until it lay beside her in pieces.

Then she pulled at his baggies until she could get to his penis.

Then she pulled him between her legs, which were widely spread and open in invitation.

Then she kissed him again, another one of those passionate kisses that result from the joy of orgasm and, as he held himself up on hands and knees, he felt her pull his stiff cock to her portal. About the time his modern mind shouted "STOP! DON'T DO THIS!" she got his cockhead to her pussy's entrance and her hips thrust up off the towel. Those pussy lips slipped almost gently over his knob, shoving his foreskin back onto the shaft of his cock and his cocktip slid into fire.

With a groan and the thought "Maybe I can still stop a little later" he began to feed his virgin niece her very first stiff cock.

Passion can do amazing things to the human body. Though she'd be sore for 36 hours after this, Heather felt nothing but the exquisite fullness she knew she'd love as her untried sheath was filled with hot, stiff meat. Bob, who fully planned on pulling his cock OUT of the girl before he came, was overcome by the feel of tight, wet, hot pussy swallowing his cock. About the time his pubes met that thin vertical line of hers, his cock panicked, and, like a stomach that upchucks, belched and drained his balls of their recently resupplied cargo of seed into his niece's belly in three massive and uncontrollable spurts. Just like that, his plan to protect her was afloat in a sea of thick, rich, potent sperm that washed into her womb like the surf they could hear in the background. He hadn't even taken a complete stroke ... and he was done!

Just like a teenager!

Heather smiled as she felt that wet heat explode inside her. She'd been right. There was nothing in the world that could feel better than that. Her prehistoric self grunted, trying to force an extra egg out of an ovary to drop into that sea of sperm. Actually, it was just a spasm of her pussy, but her subconscious interpreted it that way. Her modern mind sat quietly and watched.

Bob's prehistoric self shoved harder, trying to penetrate clear into her womb to deliver his nectar. His modern mind yelled "STUPID STUPID STUPID" until it was bitch-slapped by the Neanderthal in him, which encouraged him to try fucking her some more.

Heather's modern mind finally spoke up: "Heather, darling, he's going to feel really really bad about this. He's going to apologize. He's going to say it can never happen again. Be ready for this."

Bob took a breath and Heather interrupted him before he could speak.

"Uncle Bob" she murmured. "That was the most wonderful, fantastic, beautiful thing that ever happened to me. I wanted that more than anything in the world. Thank you so much for giving that to me. I love you so much. But I have to ask you a question."

She had disarmed all his apologies.


"How long will it be before you'll be able to do that again? And can you go just a little longer next time?"

As he laughed his body squeezed one last spurt of cream into her pussy.

The End