Ron Taylor: The hot niece

To be honest, what I turned into was a "foxy young snatch", to use one boy's highly descriptive phrase. I was the most skillful cocktease in Cleveland Heights, Ohio – maybe in the whole Middle West. You probably knew someone like me when you were that age. Lots of promise but when it came to putting out or getting out, she got out and left you there with a cock so hard it hurt! I used to go home after dates and diddle myself, thinking all the while about the boys I'd turned on and left breathless and fuckless. Sometimes, sure, I'd use my hands on a boy. Once I even let a guy put his cock in my mouth. I sucked him till he was moaning and shaking, ready to come, and then I jerked my head away and he shot all over the upholstery of his father's car. How did I get set right? My Daddy did it. And in the process, more or less determined the course of my sex life.

I'd never thought much about Daddy. He was usually busy with work, especially after Mom died, and I wasn't about to tell him that his only child and darling daughter was out cruising town, teasing the balls off every boy who tried to get into her pristine panties. But one night I came home from a date, and it had been really a nice date, you know? I gave a little hand, a very little head, let the boy suck my tits, even let him put his fingers on my cunt, but when he dropped me off at the door he was hard and moaning about "blue balls" or something, and I know damned well he never went further than around the corner before he had to stop the car and jack off into his handkerchief. We'd been smoking some week at the drive-in, watching dirty movies, and I was more than a little turned on, too. My bra was in my purse and I didn't have my panties on, either. I was planning to go up to my room and smoke a little more and do myself, slow and sexy, the way I'd learned to masturbate, the best way. But I saw Daddy sitting in his den, and I stopped at the door, watching him.

It was a warm summery night, and he was shirtless, wearing just a pair of jogging shorts, checking some blueprints from whatever job he was on at the time. He'd had a few drinks and he just looked so loose and handsome and masculine sitting there. I studied the shape of his body and I felt my belly fluttering.

I went into the den. "Hi, Daddy," I said, turning his swivel chair around. I plopped onto his lap and gave him a great big kiss. I was about stoned, if you want to know the truth. I knew daughters weren't supposed to kiss Daddies that way, but I didn't care an awful lot. My halter top was snug and my nipples stuck out, big and stiff. I wondered how they would feel touching his hairy, bare chest. I leaned in close and tapped him with my nips. I put my arms around his neck, too, and rocked a little, up and down, on his lap.

Well, if you can't figure what happened next, you're probably reading the wrong book. I was more stoned than I thought, and I think he'd had a couple more drinks than I had figured on. Things just started to happen, things that neither of us could stop once they got underway. He swept the blueprints off his spacious desk, and it was there, with my legs hanging over the side and my halter top untied that I got my first fuck – from Daddy. It hurt when he punched my cherry, and he almost stopped when he saw the blood trickling from my twat, but I wouldn't let him. And all the tricks I'd learned with boys, the little teasing tricks that got boys worked-up and made them roar and groan – well, I used all of them on Daddy. He roared a little, and he groaned a lot. He fired off his dick deep inside me and my cunt was full of his hot sticky sperm.

From there it was all uphill. I orgasmed Christ knows how many times while he was fucking me. He could feel the comes, and so could I. God, could I! And when it was over, we looked at each other. Both of us were sober and straight by now, and our eyes met, and we didn't have to say another word. He took my hand and we went to bed – his bed – and from then on, eighteen months ago, the only time I slept in my own bed was when he was out of town or something. I was his daughter and his wife and his woman, and he was my daddy and my man, and it was a complete relationship. Totally complete. We did everything, including some stuff you probably wouldn't believe if I told you about it. It had happened, and neither of us ever looked back or questioned a bit of it.

"I don't believe anything you're telling me," Uncle Bill said.

"Why not?" I asked, using my panties to wipe up the drip of cum from yours truly, very well-fucked pussy. When I touched myself, even with the soft nylon, it sent a delicious ache up and down my body. He hadn't fired off as much jism in my twat as I'd taken in the mouth, but he had done one hell of a job on me and my puss still ached with the sweetness of what he'd done inside my dripping hole.

"He – Dan – wouldn't do anything like that – not to his own daughter – it's impossible to believe – no, it's not true, you're telling me a lie."

"Well!" I sat up. "I think I know him a little better than you," I pointed out, "at least in the Biblical sense, and I resent being called a liar. You know?"

He stood up, shaking his head. "Damn it, Elizabeth, why did things have to get so complicated all of a sudden?" His back was to me. I arose from the couch and slinked up behind him, sliding my arms around his body. If my fingers made instinctively for his crotch, well, I guess it couldn't be helped, could it? "Stop it," he said. "Stop it!"

"Well," I said, letting go. "You certainly turn weird after a fuck, don't you?"

He turned around. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked at me with solemn, almost pained expression in his eyes. "Damn it, Elizabeth," he said, chewing the words before he spoke them, "this is wrong. We can't do it any more."

"Can't do it any more?" I repeated. "You sure know how to make a girl feel good. What's wrong? Didn't I respond enough? Didn't I made you feel like a man when you were in me? Christ, I loved it! And if I know cock the way I think I know it, you had a pretty good time too. Listen, Uncle Bill. It seems weird to be calling you Uncle after what we just did. Do you mind if I drop the honorific? Isn't it good for both of us? I mean, I need it most of the time, you know? And you talk like you need it too and aren't getting it, and… and that's enough," he said, picking up his pants. I sat down on the couch and watched him slip his feet into the jeans. His eyes drifted towards me, and I was twiddling my middle finger in the crack of my cunt. My eyes were grinning even if my lips weren't. He turned away and pulled his pants.

"Oh, shit," I sighed. "Are you on some kind of morality trip?"

"If you consider morality to mean that I don't believe in screwing my teenaged niece," he said, "then I guess the answer is yes."

"What does fucking have to do with morality?" I asked. "What the hell does fucking have to do with morals?"

"Jesus," he said, buttoning his pants up tight.

I slink back on the couch, legs parted far enough to give him a perfect shot at my pink pussy, shining among the curls of golden hair. "You didn't answer," I pointed out. "About fucking and morals."

He sighed. "I don't know what kind of life you've been living, Elizabeth," he said, "but you have a hell of a lot to learn about people. Yes," he added, smoothing his shirt, "yes I fucked you. Like an animal fucks another animal. But if you think…"

"I think you needed it as badly as I did," I cut in, "and I think we both got what we wanted. Mmmmmm." My finger slipped into my jismy hole and I let it go deep, wiggling its way up my cuntal tube. "You left your sticky stuff in me," I added, simpering. "I'm full of it."

He picked up his guitar, put it into the case, and fooled with the buckles, his back to me all the time. "You know," I said, "this is turning out to be okay. Really okay. I mean, you do the nice thing for me, taking me in while Daddy's in Arabia, and I can do all kinds of nice things for you, Uncle Bill. I really can." Leaning back, I stretched my legs and giggled. It was still cum-sticky between my thighs, warm juice coating my lips. I rubbed the fluid into myself, sighing as the mini-massage got better and better.