• Пожаловаться

Ron Taylor: The hot niece

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Ron Taylor: The hot niece» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию). В некоторых случаях присутствует краткое содержание. категория: Эротика, Секс / на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале. Библиотека «Либ Кат» — LibCat.ru создана для любителей полистать хорошую книжку и предлагает широкий выбор жанров:

любовные романы фантастика и фэнтези приключения детективы и триллеры эротика документальные научные юмористические анекдоты о бизнесе проза детские сказки о религиии новинки православные старинные про компьютеры программирование на английском домоводство поэзия

Выбрав категорию по душе Вы сможете найти действительно стоящие книги и насладиться погружением в мир воображения, прочувствовать переживания героев или узнать для себя что-то новое, совершить внутреннее открытие. Подробная информация для ознакомления по текущему запросу представлена ниже:

Ron Taylor The hot niece

The hot niece: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «The hot niece»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.

Ron Taylor: другие книги автора


Кто написал The hot niece? Узнайте фамилию, как зовут автора книги и список всех его произведений по сериям.

The hot niece — читать онлайн бесплатно полную книгу (весь текст) целиком

Ниже представлен текст книги, разбитый по страницам. Система сохранения места последней прочитанной страницы, позволяет с удобством читать онлайн бесплатно книгу «The hot niece», без необходимости каждый раз заново искать на чём Вы остановились. Поставьте закладку, и сможете в любой момент перейти на страницу, на которой закончили чтение.

Шрифт:

Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

When I heard the guitar strumming, I thought at first that it was a record, because it was so sharp and well-done, but then I realized that it was live music, not recorded. I heard Uncle Bill's husky, slightly lowered voice, begin to sing along with the rippling strings – something about snow and Bossier City, wherever Bossier City was, and rather stand in Mother Nature's anger than spend another lonely night with you. I remembered hearing the song sometime earlier this evening, done by a guy with a deep, growly outlaw voice, but the way Uncle Bill was saying the words, they seemed to be so much more filled with feeling, you know? As if he was living them while he sang?

I closed the refrigerator and tiptoed to the kitchen door, listening. That song could send chills up your spine if you let it, and it seemed the saddest thing I'd ever heard in my life. Slowly, I pushed the door open and saw him, sitting in the chair by the fireplace. His beat up Guild guitar was on his lap, and he was looking at the cold hearth and whisper-singing his heart out.

"That's very nice," I said, coming into the room. I had a piece of cheese in one hand a glass of wine in the other. He turned suddenly, and there was a momentary startled look in his eyes. His fingers left off picking, and he set the guitar down, slowly.

"Oh, don't stop," I said. "I really enjoyed it."

He looked up at me, and it occurred to me that maybe he wasn't used to visiting nieces – let alone visiting nieces who ran around in bikini pants, unbuttoned shirts, and nothing else. I looked down at myself. The single button I'd fastened hadn't exactly been the best one. The shirt gaped open at the top. Even if he didn't mean to, he couldn't very well help getting a big flash at my cleavage. Oh, well, I thought, it's all in the family. And I giggled.

"Really," I said, coming closer. "You sounded awfully good." I sat down on the floor beside his chair. "I got hungry," I said, "so I thought I'd come down for a snack. Just didn't feel like sleeping. Same with you?"

He didn't say anything. I offered him some wine. He took a drink, but he kept looking down at me, and his eyes were really weird, you know? Glancing down, I saw why. My shirt had slipped when I sat down, and one of my tits was almost hanging out. If he couldn't see my nipple, still red and swollen from being fingered upstairs, well, he needed glasses. I started to pull the shirt back into place, but it suddenly seemed so hypocritical. After all, he'd seen it, hadn't he? I looked up with a shrug and a grin, and when I shrugged, my titty did pop out.

"Ooops," I said, tucking it back behind the flimsy shut. "Accidents will happen." I looked up, smiling. In the dim light from the table lamp he'd turned on, I saw how much he really did resemble Daddy in the face. Anyone who saw them together would have known they were brothers. My nipples began to ache, and I thought about Daddy, all those thousands of miles across the sea, and me here, in the foothills of the Rockies. I realized how lonely I was, how much I missed him. "Oh, God," I said, and my eyes filled with tears. I laid my head on Uncle Bill's knee and started to cry. He shivered when I touched him, but he put his hand on my head and started to stroke me. It was just the way Daddy used to pet me when I was feeling badly. I looked up, trying to smile.

Uncle Bill was saying, "It's all right, Elizabeth, there's nothing to cry about, nothing at all."

I rose from the floor and sat down on his lap. I put both arms around his neck and hugged him, thrusting my tits against him, and I held on tight. His hands moved on my back, tensely at first, but then they seemed to discover that there really was a body under my shirt and he pushed down, pressing me to him.

The next time we looked at one another's faces, it was eye to eye, and if I'd ever seen lust in a man's eyes before, I saw it in Uncle Bill's – the way he stared at me, the little glaze on his pupils, the twitch of his nostrils. God, I thought, he wants it! He really wants it! Me! Maybe I was his eighteen-year-old niece, but I was woman enough to read his eyes, thank God. Suddenly, it all seemed so right and proper. Maybe I was still a little woozy from the weed I'd smoked, or maybe it was the horny I'd stirred out of my cunt. All I really know is that I reached down, took his hand, and pulled it into the gape of my shirt. "Go ahead," I told him. "Touch me. Feel me. I know you want to. So do it."

He shook his head, but his hand went straight for my tit. His fingers trembled when they touched me, but I worked from the outside of my shirt, and I made his hand cup around my breast. The nipple was up. If he couldn't feel it, his hand was dead. His fingers pinched lightly on my nip and I sighed. It always feels different when it's someone else's hand doing things to you, and it usually feels good. I squirmed on Uncle Bill's lap, and there was movement inside his pants. Nobody had to tell me what that meant. I pressed the side of one hip down, moving in little jerks. He got harder and bigger, and it felt impressive as hell, even if I hadn't seen it yet. My arm tightened around his neck and somehow our mouths got together. We were kissing then, his tongue was in me, working around and around. Our mouths were wet and hot and crushed together. I got my tongue into him just as his long fingers curled tightly around my titty, and I did a little puffing chirp into Uncle Bill's mouth. If his cock could get any harder than it was right now, and it was time to be calling the Guinness Book of World Records.

We eased apart slowly, each of us looking warily at the other, as if we weren't sure what had taken place. "Well," I said. His face went red, but his cock didn't shrink. I eased off his lap, onto my knees on the floor. His pants were tented up with the thrust of his erection, and I touched the hidden tent pole with my fingertips. "Did I do that?" I asked.

He didn't reply, just a choked sound that might have been an aborted word. My shirt was half off me by then, so I unfastened the last button and let it slide away. I knelt there and gave him a good shot at my tits. The coral nipples were stiff and punchy, both of them, and I stroked them with my fingers, looking up at Uncle Bill. "You did that," I volunteered. "Some of it, anyway."

"Stop, Elizabeth," he said, but my hands were already on his pants. He had buttons instead of a zipper. I'd never undone buttons before, not on a man's pants. They were no problem, except that the faded denim of Uncle Bill's trousers was stretched out so tight with the hardness of his cock. I got him undone, and I reached inside while he kept saying, "No, Elizabeth." I pulled his rod out, and it was a beauty! He stopped saying "No" just about the time I got his dick into the lamplight.

I'd seen a few cocks in my time, and his was nice. Thick – the best ones are thick, so that they spraddle your labes and make you feel like you're being wedged open long enough to be of good service. His head was fat and bulging, coming to an arrowhead-like point. My thumb and finger circled him and moved quickly up his rigid shaft, to the cockhead, where I squeezed down tightly. I felt him throbbing in my grip, and I saw a little drop of liquid ooze into the crack that divided his bulging knob into two equal halves.

"God," I said, "it looks good enough to eat!"

"Elizabeth," he said, without a single discernible trace of conviction. I leaned in and started to lick the end of his prick. He squirmed in the chair, and it seemed that his legs opened a little giving me more room to get closer. I slid in, still on my knees, still holding his cock, my tongue still busy around the end of him. He put his hands on my head, and there was a hesitation. I thought he would shove me away, but the pressure of his fingers weakened, and then I had him in my mouth. I was sucking, and nobody, but nobody, ever tells me to stop once I've taken a click in my mouth and given it the suction tongue treatment. Nobody!

Читать дальше

Шрифт:

Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

Похожие книги на «The hot niece»

Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «The hot niece» списком для выбора. Мы отобрали схожую по названию и смыслу литературу в надежде предоставить читателям больше вариантов отыскать новые, интересные, ещё не прочитанные произведения.


Bob Wallace: Niece going down
Niece going down
Bob Wallace
Ron Taylor: Do me, Daddy!
Do me, Daddy!
Ron Taylor
Ron Taylor: Hot for dad
Hot for dad
Ron Taylor
Ted Sawyer: Hot little niece
Hot little niece
Ted Sawyer
Keary Taylor: The Ashes
The Ashes
Keary Taylor
Отзывы о книге «The hot niece»

Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «The hot niece» и просто собственные мнения читателей. Оставьте ваши комментарии, напишите, что Вы думаете о произведении, его смысле или главных героях. Укажите что конкретно понравилось, а что нет, и почему Вы так считаете.