Uncle Ed's Lap

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All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design: Selena Kitt Uncle Ed’s Lap © February 2010 Parker Ford eXcessica publishing All rights reserved

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Uncle Ed’s Lap By Parker Ford

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When Aunt Carole died, we were all shocked. Only in her mid-forties, it was a hell of a time to lose her. It was a hard pill to swallow that a small hole in her heart, undetected all those years, could fell such a beautiful, lively, passionate woman. But it did. Which served as a great lesson to me. One I knew she'd want me to learn well. Live life while you can, grab it by the balls, ride it hard and put it away wet. All the things a young woman starting her freshman year in college should know. Life's a bitch and then you die. So I volunteered to spend my month before going to the university helping Uncle Ed get everything in order. It was the least I could do considering all they'd done for me over the years. What can I say, I'm a saint. **** "Where do you want me to put these?" I asked, keeping my voice soft. I didn't want to poke a fresh wound but Uncle Ed had asked me to fold up Aunt Carole's clothes for donation. I was also instructed to keep any that might suit me. So far, I had kept a black pencil skirt, a gray cashmere sweater, and a few pieces of lingerie. "After you bag them, set them in the corner. Thomasina Daniels is doing a run up to the church thrift shop. She said she won't mind swinging in." I watched him run a hand through his thick, dark hair. He was sporting a bit too much stubble for a business man but just enough for a construction supervisor. Which he was. His hands, dark brown from the sun, looked almost gold against the black of his hair. He'd always been a handsome man, he was getting better with age. I looked down at the red sweater I held. I should stop thinking how cute my uncle is probably.

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"That was her favorite sweater," he said, smiling. "She called it her tart sweater but I always loved it. Loved to take it off, in fact." His face colored and he cleared his throat. "Sorry, Fiona, that was probably inappropriate." "Oh, I've heard worse, Uncle Ed. I'm going into my freshman year of college, you know. These are no longer virginal ears." Then I flushed because I had meant my ears not my other parts. But I wasn't a virgin, for the record. He snorted, eyes shining with laughter. "You should keep that. It suits your skin tone. Once in a great while I catch you out of the corner of my eye and you look so much like here, Fi. I think it's her. But then I turn and it's you." My heart broke a little for him then. "It's those Jones genes. We all have the crazy dirty blonde hair and the—" "Beautiful blue eyes." He smiled. "Thanks." I folded the sweater, dropped it in the pile. "You don't want it?" "I don't look so good in red." Plus I feel like I'm poaching from a dead woman Uncle Ed turned me to the long mirror on the closet door. He draped the red sweater over me and I held it up. His big hands smoothed down the front and I tried so hard to ignore the silken slip of his fingers over my curves. You should not covet your uncle. Even if he isn't truly blood. You should not have dreams about him and wake up half way to orgasm. You should certainly not then finish yourself off with trembling slippery fingers in the room next door to his. On the other side of paper thin walls. These were all the things you should not do. And all the things I was doing.

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"I like it." His breath drifted across my face as he spoke, looking over the top of my head at us in the mirror. There we were reflected, me looking so small in front of him as his hands held the sweater from behind. I am a tall woman, he made me feel down right elfin. "I think you should keep it. Come on, where's your secret pile? She had beautiful taste in clothes. There have to be a few you're keeping." I pointed to the far side of the bed, blushing. The doorbell rang and he touched my arm. "Be right back. Thanks for this, Fiona. You've always been special to me. Now I know why. You're priceless." For such a big man he moved with ease. I watched him go, fighting the urge to lock myself in the bathroom and masturbate. I'd always had a little girl crush on him. I had always told my mother he was the 'handsomest man in the world' and she would laugh. She'd laugh harder when I proclaimed I'd marry him one day. Kids say that stuff. But here I was crushing hard on him, not getting sleep, daydreaming about things that were wrong, wrong, wrong. "Fiona, look at you!" Thomasina Daniels screeched and I dropped the long blue sweater coat I was folding. I retrieved it, hands shaking. "Hi, Mrs. Daniels. Good to see you," I said. Uncle Ed walked in behind her, beaming at me. He winked because everyone knew how damn loud that woman is. "My, my, my. Not a little girl at all, are you? Now you're all grown up." She turned to Uncle Ed and elbowed him and he winced. "Edward, I have to say, she's a woman now! Our little Fiona is a woman. With boobs and everything!"

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Uncle Ed started coughing and I let out a little cry of disbelief. Oh shit, had she actually said that aloud? She had. Of course she had. We didn't call her the magpie for nothing. "Um...thank you?" Uncle Ed turned, shoulders heaving. He was laughing. Damn him. I held out a bag. "Let me help you get these to the car." Anything to get her out of here. "There's some more stuff, but I can run them up one day myself." "I can wait if you need," Mrs. Daniels said, looking hopeful. "No. No need for that. I think I'm done for the day." I rolled my eyes behind her back as I followed her out. Uncle Ed was still laughing, standing in the doorway, taking up all the space. As I passed him, he tried to move out of my way. It ended with a mortifying bump and grind with me, him and a big green trash bag. "Sorry, sorry!" I squeaked, forcing past finally. I heard him go and gather the last of the bags while I hurried out, panting and tingling. Was I losing my mind? What did they call it? Projecting? I had either lost it completely or my uncle’s cock had been hard. For me. **** I'd been here for two weeks now and I felt pretty much at home. As a kid I had always come on summer break to stay for a few weeks. Taking the train the three hour trip from my home further south. It had been so much fun, the adventure of the train, being spoiled by Aunt Carole and Uncle Ed. They had no children of their own so they spoiled me rotten⎯zoo trips, the pool, movies, dinners out. It was always the highlight of my time off from school.

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Back in their large Connecticut home, I felt safe and secure and loved. I brushed my teeth, trying to remember all the things I needed to get for college. If I thought about starting classes and dorm life too much I got so nervous I couldn't sleep, so I pushed the thoughts away. It was just nerves and nerves were normal. I shut the light off and the tiny nightlight sprang to life. I smoothed my nightgown down, heart pounding. I refused to think about what had happened earlier. I had a lot in my head, surely it had been my imagination. I tried to tiptoe on the hardwood floor. The house was so quiet and it was so late, I could only assume I was the only one up. And uncle Ed had to get up early for work. Construction crews were like roosters he'd say, greeting the day before the sun did. As usual, the floor squeaked as I passed the master suite. I froze, not wanting to wake him. He'd been sleeping poorly since aunt Carole died, the least I could do was be quiet. I stayed that way, waiting to make sure I hadn't disturbed him. I heard a soft whispery sound and breathing. Not mine. My heart pounded in my ears and I knew I should keep going. I shouldn't be a nosy parker as my mother said, but I waited anyway. The sound increased as did the breathing. I peeked around the edge of the door and my eyes fought to focus in the dark. "Oh," my uncle said. So soft that no one should be able to hear. No one expect the person spying from the doorway. "Oh, god." He was jacking off. I bit my lip, I should look away. I didn't. Instead, I steadied myself with a hand on the door jam. This was normal, I told myself. A man had needs. A man who has just lost his wife is still a man. My hand, seemingly possessed, crept up

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under my nightgown. I felt the warm fluid already sliding from me. The tops of my thighs trembled like I had a fever. I touched my clit with shaking fingers as I watched him. He nearly looked to be wrestling with himself. Like he didn't want to do this but had to. The moonlight leaking in the old glazed window panes illuminated him in milky shadows. His big hand slid up and down the length of his cock, his face set, eyes closed tightly. His hips pistoned up and down as he fucked the hole made by his own fist. The white linen sheets nearly glowed in the moonlight. Oh god⎯I should go⎯I should. Instead I slipped my fingers into my pussy and pressed and pressed and touched until my womb felt tingly and my knees felt weak. Then I spread my wetness around my clit, running hard fast circles with my middle finger. I clutched the door jam and tried not to breathe at all so he wouldn’t hear me. His movements grew faster, his head tossed one way and then the other. I would have paid a million dollars to know what movie was playing in his head at that moment. My aunt? A playboy bunny? The girl at the hot dog stand who never wore panties? God, dare I hope it? Me? I worked myself faster, holding my breath as my uncle sighed. "Oh, fuck." I saw the shadowed arc of come shoot across his knuckles, watched his lean hips fucking upward off the bed, heard him breathe, "Oh, god, Fiona." And then I gasped and he looked my way. **** I half expected him to come after me and I waited, heart pounding, pussy thumping, for a knock at the door. It didn't come. After a few moments with no relief, I hiked my nightgown up and touched myself. I rubbed circles on my swollen eager clit

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until I couldn't stand it and used a small bottle of lotion in a cylindrical bottle as a dildo. I hadn't brought a vibrator with me to uncle Ed's it had just seemed weird. My legs pushed wide, hips thrusting up, I fucked myself while rubbing my clit so hard I feared permanent damage. My head was full of him. The cut of his jaw, his dark, dark hair. His strong hands and muscular forearms and the tan he had year round from being outside. His big blue eyes on me, thinking about fucking me, calling out my name when he came. I came then, a warm rush of pleasure and then I was coming again. Blissfully long spasms as my cunny milked the lotion bottle and I shivered under the thin cotton sheet. I heard a noise and froze. Nothing then. Just my heart beating like a celebration drum and the secretive whispers of my skin on the sheet. But I had to wonder as I turned over to sleep, had he just heard me, too? When I woke up there were bagels on the counter and coffee in the pot. Uncle Ed was gone. I looked but there was no note. I could only hope that he didn’t feel weird about last night, but I knew damn well he did because how could you not? I had felt weird about my attraction to him and my secret fantasies. The dreams that woke me up with sweat on my upper lip and a burning heat that needed to be quelled between my thighs. I knew how that felt, so I closed my eyes and tried to think of him happy and not upset. Fantasies were just fantasies. You didn’t have to act on them. Right? I busied myself cleaning the kitchen. Bachelors suck at cleaning. So do young coeds but hey, I was bored and my mother Marie had taught me well. Cleanliness was next to godliness, plus if you threw yourself into it, it could make the afternoon fly in an

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blink. I ate cucumbers from the garden with homemade ranch sauce uncle had made the night before for dinner. That was all I really had the stomach for. I poured a big glass of lemonade and downed it in four long swallows. Then I started rearranging the cabinets and wiping down the liners. The worst chore I could imagine from my growing up years. Now it seemed to soothe me. "Wow. I had no idea I would come home to such a tight ship," he said from the doorway. I jumped, a china plate shattering at my feet. A thousand tiny jagged teeth of china scattered around me on the red tile floor. Barefoot and in turquoise shorts instead of jeans, I was pretty much fucked. "Shit, I’m sorry, Fiona." He colored when he said my name aloud and my cunt responded with tightening warmth. "You're bleeding." I looked at my calf where a thick nearly black rivulet of blood trickled slowly down my leg. "It's no big deal. Just as shard. But I am kind of...stuck." I shrugged, feeling horribly stupid. "I'm so sorry. I can go on ebay and try to replace it. I'm such a klutz!" I felt like I might start sobbing right then from frustration. "Hey, I scared you. Don't talk about ebay or any of that. Stay there. I'm gonna grab you and take you in the dining room, then I'll clean up this mess." His work boots crunched over the china shards as he picked me up and carried me out. He set me on the table and put my foot on one of the ladder back chairs. "Let me get the bandages." I nodded, suddenly feeling little and helpless again. Letting him care for me the way he had when I was a little girl and I'd skin my knee. He caught that far away look when he came in. "You okay? You’re not cut anywhere else are you?"

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I looked. "Nope. Just there. Not too shabby considering the immense mess I made." "We made," he amended. "You never would have dropped it if I hadn't startled you." He wiped the cut with a wet cotton ball. Wet with alcohol it seemed because fire bloomed in the cut and I hissed. "Easy, be good," he said, smiling. He blew on the cut to cool the sting. Just like old times. Only now, the feel of him blowing on my skin made my pussy keep a wet tempo with my heartbeat. "Ugh," I said. "Sorry it stings. It will be over in a minute. Promise." I could only nod. He squeezed a gem sized squirt of antibiotic lotion on and covered it with a big square bandages. "To keep it all covered," he said. His fingers smoothing the flesh colored cloth covering made me shift on the table. I felt trapped by his presence, the very hugeness of him and my pulse jumped at my throat from a mix of excitement and fear. So close like this I could picture him beating off to me. As close as we were, I could picture his hands pushing my legs apart. I could imagine a million scenarios I shouldn't. "Thanks," I managed. "You sure you're okay?" He turned my chin so I had to look at him. I nodded and swallowed hard. "Yeah," I said, thinking inside, God, just kiss me, kiss me already, kiss me and then touch me and we'll pretend it never ever happened, I swear... It took a second for it to register his hands on my thighs, his long finger splayed out so they pointed like traitors to my pussy. Uncle Ed leaned in, his lips brushed mine

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so softly it was more like a kiss of wind than a person. I opened my mouth, spread my legs, begging him with my body. More. I buried my hands in his too shaggy hair—I’d try to make sure I scheduled him a cut—and pulled him in tighter, closing my legs around his hands and scooting forward just a touch. I wouldn’t think that I shouldn't do this. I'd think about how good and right it felt. Fuck feeling shamed. "Fiona, I shouldn't..." "I know...I do, but..." His fingers slipped over the hot moist V at the crotch of my shorts. I broke off in moan. It was like being burned, electrocuted, smacked so hard the blood seems like acid when it rises to the surface. I wanted his touch so bad that just a fingertip made my mind go red and my heart skip wildly. "Don't make that sound," he said, but swept another finger along where the first had been. Two fingers running soft patterns over the crotch of my snug shorts. Over my pussy. Fuck. Directly over my clit. "Sorry," I said. I tried, but another sound, deeper and more needy slid off my lips into the air. Uncle Ed shook his head, no, no, no. But he popped the blue button of my shorts and tugged at the zipper. I raised up, shimmied, helped him get them off. He tossed them as he pulled at my panties and the shorts landed on the secretary. My tank was snatched off with ease. I don't wear bras, usually. "Spread your legs for me, Fiona," he said. A hot rush of fluid puddled between my legs, and his fingers played through it like he was painting me. My head fell back and I sank into the feel of him. His mouth on my

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nipple. He kissed me and shushed me all at once. Like a child, like something precious. I watched his dark head as he kissed a path from my breast to my belly button. I arched up, trying to be quiet like he wanted when his mouth found my pussy and he sucked. His mouth was impossibly hard and then impossibly soft and then a tongue of perfect blazing wetness over my clit. "Oh, Uncle." I wanted to tell him how good it felt, how good he was. How perfect his mouth was on me and how it was what I wanted. So bad. What I needed—so much. "Shh, Fiona. Don't." So I didn't. I curled my fingers around the edge of the table and I held on. The bright afternoon sun trickled through the slats of his blinds and splashed across my belly. His dark head worked between my legs, I touched his hair, arching my pelvis to meet his mouth, greedy little girl wanting him to lick her. "I'm going to⎯" He shoved his fingers into me, curling and pressing against all the singing nerves. I gasped, my belly muscles rippling with my orgasm and my effort to hold myself up. I didn’t bother. I lay back, giving over to him completely as he fucked me with his fingers, licked me with his tongue. Uncle Ed pushed my legs wide like a slut and attacked me with is mouth, he kept going, raking his dripping tongue over my clit. "Give it to me, one more, Fiona," he demanded and sucked my clit hard. Tiny purple spots filled my vision and I came for him again. "Oh, uncle Ed, I—" But he was standing, his face angry, his shoulders heaving. He wiped the shiny evidence of my juicy pussy from his face and I felt suddenly wrong. Bad. I had never felt more naked.

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"I shouldn't want you," he said. It was an accusation. "It's normal. It's just a little confusing," I started. "No. It's wrong. Not confusing, just wrong." His blue eyes flashed and he plopped into a chair, hung his head. I felt horrible. I pulled on my panties and ran to him. The same as when I was a little girl, I climbed onto his lap. Only now I was all grown up and I climbed onto his lap facing him, I straddled him, rubbing my hands along the scratchy stubble on his jaw and cheeks. Again, the way I always had. I kissed the tip of his nose and said, "Don't do this to yourself. It was both of us. It's a hard time right now and we'll get through it. Don't do this, please. Don't make something that was so good to me, bad." He eyed me and I realized he looked on the verge of tears. My cut was throbbing and I shifted just a bit. I felt it then. The hard ridge of his cock under my panties. Under me. If I shifted, I could push him just that inch it would take. If I wiggled just a little I could get myself off on uncle Ed's lap. The question was, should I? I leaned in, kissing him, rotating my hips just a little so his hard shaft stroked my clit, still sensitive from his lips and teeth and tongue. "Fiona—" "Shh," I said this time. I kissed him harder. "Fi—" "Unh-unh," I said, teasing, kissing, moving. His strong hands clamped down on my hips and he lifted me, setting me on my feet, shooting from the chair like and angry bear on the beginnings of a rampage. "I said, no!"

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"But—" "No, buts. You listen to me when I talk, young lady. This is still my house.” He moved past me toward the steps to go upstairs. I grabbed his arm with both of my hands. I didn't want him angry at me. That broke my heart. All of my life he had been one of my favorite people and his anger made me so sad, I had no words. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I said, pulling. "Just don't be angry with me." He turned, fast for his size, fast like an animal. He spun me before I could react, pressing me face first to the wall, hands splayed like a prisoner. His breath was hot on my cheek as he said in my ear, "I'm not angry at you, Fiona. I should not want you. I shouldn't want you and if I do want you I should be man enough to ignore it. But I'm not. And I didn't. And now..." His hands smoothed over the swell of my ass, calluses snagging on my small white panties. He growled, pushed them down around my ankles and his one hand pinned my neck so I couldn't turn to watch him. "Yes," I breathed. My pussy so wet, so ready. I wanted him so bad. So badly it was insane. I wanted to feel his hard cock in me, fucking me. I didn't care how he needed it to be. Any way was fine. "No," he said, but he kicked my panties away and pushed my legs wider. The hand at the back of my neck did not press but it didn't let up, either. I heard his zipper, his belt jangle, closed my eyes and tried to breathe. I arched back with my body without thinking, seeking him. Wanting him. I bit my tongue. No talking, I'd be quite. He brushed the silken head of his dick along the small of my back. His skin impossibly warm and soft and hard all at once. I

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sighed, standing as still as I could manage while wanting to bubble right out of my skin like champagne escaping a bottle. "What have you done to me, Fiona?" He ran the tip of his cock along the crack of my ass and then thrusting very gently against my wet pussy hole. I held my breath, shook my head, didn't speak. His hand left my neck and he grabbed my hips forcefully, his fingers biting into my flanks. A quick tip of my hips and he had angled me. He came in from behind, fast again⎯so fast I didn't feel it coming. He rubbed the entire length of himself through my legs like he was running me through with a sword. His shaft licked at my asshole, my pussy, rubbing all the way through until the head of his dick raked over my clit before slipping back out the way it had come. Dry fucking me through my thighs. "This is all your fault. Are you a witch? Are you? What have you done to me, Fiona?” He smacked my ass hard, and I balked for the first time. Rearing back, tears coming to my eyes. I tried to turn and he caught me up, his one big hand acting like a collar around my neck, keeping me facing forward. I did start to cry then. What was wrong with him? "Are you drugging me? Hexing me? You little slut," he hissed. I could tell he was crying and I cried harder. He pushed at my thighs again and I resisted. I had changed my mind. I wasn’t a slut. I wasn’t a witch. He pushed and I shook my head. "No!" "Shut up!" He smacked my ass again. "I was fine. A grieving widower when you came. My niece. All these years I have doted on you and now this. Now you've turned me into less than a man," he sighed into my ear, pushed his hand against the back of

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my neck, the head of his erection to my wet pussy. My pulse still beat there. I was still so wet. Wetter now that I was scared as my body crossed wires and lubricated my fear with juices in my most vulnerable place. "Let me go," I begged. "No," he said, beginning to thrust. Up high and hard, one big hand gathering my hips to him as he penetrated me over and over, my neck still pinned, my arms still splayed. I marveled at how small I was in comparison to him and my body betrayed my mind by gripping up round him like a slippery fist. "I changed my mind," I sighed, but even I could hear in my voice that it was lie. At least it was now that he was in and fucking me. "Too, bad." His grip on my throat relaxed a little and his fingers tickled down my spine. "You put a spell on me, Fiona." "No," I cried, pushing back to meet him, letting him in. The anxiety of it all had made me so sensitive I thought I would splinter apart into bits of light and air. "Don't worry, baby girl," he said, fucking me faster, slipping in and out of my wet pussy in a more scattered way. He was going to come and when his fingers reached round and found my clit and started to strum me, I knew I would too. "It was years ago when you cast it," he confessed, coming hard, crying against my shoulder, his heartbeat banging against my shoulder blade. I came too, wishing I could comfort him, but settling on clutching at the wall so I didn't turn inside out.

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He kissed the back of my neck, his hands smoothing over my bare bottom, especially gentle where he had struck me. "Go get cleaned up. I'll take care of the kitchen." I turned, desperate for him to be okay with me. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to⎯" He pushed his finger to my lips. It smelled like me and I knew if I licked it would taste like me, too. "Fiona, I'm sorry. I'm the man. I'm the one who has no control. I'm twice your age, I should know better." "I'm not a little girl anymore," I blurted. "I know," he said and turned to the kitchen. "But this wanting of you isn't new. I've just lost my handle on it." **** I made Aunt Jean's famous spaghetti sauce because it was a favorite we shared. A nice salad and a beautiful wine and some garlic bread to go with it. I heard the shower come on and then go off as I set the table. Since our encounter, uncle had avoided me. Not in a mean way but in an embarrassed way. Head down, shoulders a bit slumped. I wanted to major in psychology when I started school and it was my impulse to dissect his feelings. Obviously he felt guilty. I was his long beloved niece and his wife had just died. Aunt Carole had adored me just as he did, so that added to the sticky messiness of the whole thing. Not to mention still identifying with me as a young woman as opposed to seeing me as an adult. The added confession that these feelings had been around for a while made it more confusing.

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"Surely he can see that I've always been mature for my age." I had always been mistaken for five or so years older than I was. Grown men had been eyeing me up since I was thirteen. My mother would always politely but firmly correct them when they would approach me. They don't know any better Fiona, you look like a grown woman. Being beautiful doesn't help the situation. And she would smile. She knew how it was because she had the same issues as a young girl. "And he didn't act on it for god's sake," I told the bubbling sauce pot. "Does it answer you like in Beauty and the Beast? The Disney version, of course." I jumped, thankful that I wasn’t holding anything breakable. "No. Sorry. Thinking out loud." His face creased with worry and then he forced a smile. "Smells awesome. Jean's I supposed?" "Is there any other sauce?" I laughed. "There are but they can't hold a candle." He pulled some napkins from the cupboard and filled the holder. "Candle? They can't hold a match!" I said in mock horror. "True story. What else can I do to get ready?" "Pour the wine." "You’re too young to drink, Fiona." He scowled at me but it was all for show. "You won't tattle if I have one little glass will you? It would be a shame to start college never having had a drink." Even I couldn't keep a straight face and we both laughed.

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"Sure. No alcohol has ever passed those pretty lips." He caught himself and he turned quickly from me. I chose to ignore it. It wouldn't be healthy to keep coming unglued over something as simple as attraction. "Nope. Never. Now you can get the salad dressings for me, too." I used by best bossy voice and totally ignored the flush of shame on his handsome face. He did as asked, gathering the bottles from the fridge. "And?" "And sit and put your feet up. You were in the hot sun all day." He sat, sipping wine from the plain glasses I had chosen. I could feel his eyes on me. When I dropped a fork and bent to get it, his eyes on me was like a touch. I felt my pussy grow wet, my nipples go hard, my heart rush to life. It was all a swirling red mist of want and I had to suck in a breath to think. The feel of his gaze on me was almost like being penetrated. At the table talk turned to college. "You realize we have a rocking university here," he said, teasing me. "Why would you want to go all the way to Southern California?" I shrugged, sipping my wine and rolling my eyes at the perfectly sweet sauce. "I have no clue. Marielle was going there and some other people and I felt no pull or loyalty to a particular campus so I thought it would be fun to surf and see the other coast while I learned to pick apart people's brains." I grinned. "That's it!" He shook his head. "All that to surf?" "I'm not even sure I want to surf. I just...I don't know." "Hmm. That's a lot of money to not know."

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"Jack says he has it and not to worry." Jack is my stepfather. We get along well for stepdaughter and new dad. Better than most. "Ah, good man Jack." "Mom's happy." "And that's what matters." The phone rang and he tossed his napkin on his plate. "Dare I say as good as Jean's. She'd spin in her grave to hear me say it, but it's true. You're a talent, kid. I'm gonna grab that." I felt ridiculously proud of myself when he kissed the top of my head and bolted. I started to clear. "I'll get all that,” he yelled. "I don't mind." I said. It would give me something to do so I didn't turn the kiss on the head to something more. Say, me and him spread across the dining room table as he fucked me hard and messy. Face to face this time. Lips to lips. Cock to cunt. I wanted to watch his face as he came−as he fucked me and touched me and made me come too. **** After my shower, I heard him muttering to himself. In the bedroom. I passed by, refusing to pause for any length of time. I feared spying on him again and knew if I caught him doing anything like the night before, I wouldn't have any control. I would watch. I caught the words young and bad. I shook my head. I darted into my room, hoping I hadn't left too much water on the hardwood floor. I'd have to go back and wipe it up. Where the hell was my nightgown? The birds in the pear tree were going berserk again. Every night at dusk, they went insane for some

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reason. Uncle Ed had told me maybe it was the cats in the neighborhood. Rumor had it, though, that some neighbors had spotted a fox but I doubted a fox could climb a tree. Could they? Who knew. I rummaged through my dirty clothes pile, I'd have to do laundry tomorrow. No nightie. Not in my drawers. Nowhere. I picked up my salvaged pile from aunt Carole's clothes and remembered her pale pink cotton baby doll. It would have to do. I couldn’t very well walk around naked. You could wear a tee and boxers the way you do at home. I let it go. I'd wear her nightie. It was pretty and would look nice with my tan. I had a date with a good mystery and some TV on for background noise. Maybe some ice cream if I couldn't resist the urge. Actually, the urge was pretty bad. I pulled on the nightgown and my short robe. I'd go down and get a bowl and scoot back up and leave uncle alone for the night. Maybe he just needed a night off from seeing me. Maybe I was not a positive for him right now. But when I passed his door I rapped softly. "Come in." "I’m going to get a bowl of ice cream," I said, peeking my head in. I spotted my nightgown there on is bed. He was in nothing but boxers, his face set in that angry upset way. I pretended not to see the nightie, and I refused to speculate what he might need it for, but I knew. My mind leapt to seeing him, cock in hand, calling out my name. I rushed on," Can I get you some? We have the kind with the brownie chunks in it." His face colored and he put his hand back too fast, clutching at the white fabric I'd just been searching for. "No, Fi. Not tonight. Thanks for asking, though. Just not the mood for sweets tonight." I shrugged. "Wish I had your self control," I said.

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He blew out a sigh and shook his head as if that had been a jibe. I’d meant ice cream, not sex, so I let it go. I blew him a kiss, something I had done for over a decade and hurried down the hall feeling somewhat sad and also emotionally drawn. I wanted to go back in there and comfort him. Hold him, put his head in my lap and stroke his hair. But I also wanted to lay back and pull him on top of me. Put his cock in me, wrap my legs around his waist and have him rock against me until I couldn't stand it any more and I came. And then I wanted to push him to the point of no return. Biting at his skin, kissing his pink lips, touching his abs, his arms, his ass as he fucked me and tightening my pussy around him so that he lost control and lost the battle and came. I hurried down the steps before I did an about-face. Ice cream is no substitute for sex when you are turned on and the object of your desire is in the same house. I watched the neighborhood, kissed by purple light, and ate the fudge brownie decadence straight from the container. Mr. Williams across the street dragged his trash cans to the curb. Mrs. Blakely next door put her cat out on a tether. Funniest damn thing ever. A big black cat with a white face and paws that was roughly the size of a Thanksgiving turkey tied to a thin black string so he couldn’t run off. Judging by the looks of Felix he a) could not run and b) would never leave his steady source of food. When I looked up, licking the last of the fudge from my spoon and fingertips, I caught the flash of reddish gray streak from across the street at the Browns to right in front of us. The fox. "Well, I'll be damned." It was so pretty and didn't seem scared at all. It stood at the boundaries of the yard as Felix hissed and seemed to triple in size when his fur

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went up and his back hunched. It glanced up at me and then trotted back from where it had come. It clearly knew what it wanted and had no fear about getting it. "If we could all be that way," I said to my spoon and dropped it in the dishwasher. I tossed the ice cream container and shut off the lights. Most likely uncle Ed would watch TV in his room and I would in mine. I made sure all the doors were locked and the AC kicked to life even as I heard the first crack of thunder in the sky. Probably another mid-summer storm coming our way. I tried to be quiet as I passed but the floorboards announced me again and the master suite door swung open. "Any left?" "Um...I ate it all." He laughed. "Look, I'm really, really sorry about—" "Don't," I said. "And I'd understand if you had to leave—" "Don't," I repeated. "I mean it, Fiona. It was wrong of me." "Do you want me to leave?" His eyes had caught the nightie under my robe and he stopped for a moment, breathing hard like he'd been running. "No, I don't." "You certainly didn’t have sex alone down there," I said. "But you said n—" "I was lying and we both knew it." His gaze never wavered and I realized the power this piece of clothing had. I walked forward, stood on tiptoe and kissed his chin. He sighed like an exhausted man.

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"Fiona, you can't touch me," he said. "No? Not even a little?" I asked pushing the flat of my palm along the hard hump of his cock in his boxers. I wanted so bad to slip my hand past that waist band and slide my hand along the silky warm length of him. Feel every vein and dip and swell of flesh in my hand. I wanted to touch him so that he didn't think but fucked my hand like a greedy man with a huge appetite. I did none of that. I tracked my fingers over cotton only. "Fiona, I have just lost—" "Edward Mitchell Briggs, you have not lost me, I’m right here." Aunt Carole always called him by his full name when she felt he was being silly. He jerked and startled like a movie come off its reel. "Fiona—" "Don't call me that," I breathed, walking forward so he instinctively moved back. Back into his darkening room. Back to where his bed waited for us. I passed the bureau that had been my aunts. I grabbed her long string of pearls as I passed. Worth a fortune, when I slipped them over my head they dangled all the way down to my navel. I wrapped them once more around my throat and slipped my hands into his boxers like I wanted. I gripped his hard cock and stroked him like I could make him forget it all. I wanted to. "Oh, god. I can't..." His mouth was on mine then. His tongue stroking past my lips, tangling with my tongue. He touched my hair, my face, my breasts. Pulled down the pink cotton bodice and dipped his head to suck my nipple into his mouth. the other nipple he pinched so hard my body flushed hot and my cunt gripped tight to nothing.

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"You can. Just listen to me, Edward. I'm gone. You're not doing anything wrong. You're a man." I slid my hand up and down, up and down, jacking him off as I talked in his ear. We were still moving and his knees hit the bed and he buckled. He thrust up into my hand and I bit my tongue to keep from crying out. I was vibrating from my need. I needed him to fuck me. I had passed want at the bedroom door. I pushed him back, my hand moving, moving, moving. I released his cock, dropped to my knees, the pearls sliding and rolling between his body and mine. I pushed my lips to his cock and looked up. "And a man has needs," I said and swallowed him, pushing his thick blushing cock into my mouth and past my tongue. I sucked, harder, pushing myself further, gagging a bit, feeling the tears spill over my lids and run down my face. He pushed his hands in my hair, running long blond pieces through his fingers. He thrust up to my waiting lips, harder and harder until I put my hands on his thighs and licked up the back of his dick. Circling the tip of him with the tip of my tongue, I watched his perfect tortured face, bruised in the darkened room, sad and happy, sexy and troubled. All at once. "Do you like that?" "Yes, Fi⎯Carole. Yes." He thrust toward my face and I took him back in as deep as I could. Memorizing him with my fingertips, the hard swell of his thighs under his skin, the curly ginger hair on his legs, the smell of summertime and salt water on his cock. "Fuck my mouth, Edward. Faster," I wanted him to just let go. Into her and into me. I wanted him to see it was all okay. I was a woman, he was a man, she was gone and he had to let her go. "This can be our good bye, my love." Some say mind fuck, I say therapy. I sucked him until he broke. His face going from troubled to spiritual in a heartbeat. His dark tanned fists clutching at me, my hair,

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my face, the sheets. He twisted them in his hands and yanked like he was dying. "God, oh, God, Good-bye." He said it over and over again like a prayer, like a mantra. And I hoped it was real. I sat back on my heels. The pearls had slipped down into my nightie and they tickled my belly, nearly brushing the top of my mound. My heart pounded in my ears so it was a struggle to hear his harsh breathing. It was fully dark, nothing but the light from the streetlamp outside to light us. The AC hissed on again and blissfully chilled air billowed the skirt of my nightie from the wall vent behind me. I yelped in surprise, laughed softly. His hands came out of the darkness and touched my face. "Come up here, sweetheart." Suddenly I was afraid. What if that had been the wrong thing to do? What if he thought me callus or cruel or God help me, just plain nasty? I hadn't meant it to be kinky per se but could understand how some might think that. What if he did? I went though, took his hands and stood, crawled onto the high antique bed beside him. I couldn't see him, but I knew the bed. It was the first time I'd been in this bed since I was a little girl and a thunderstorm had driven me to huddle under the sheets between them, the then happily married couple. The sheets were high count cotton, the mattress firm, the bed frame walnut, the man cherished. I laid back facing the ceiling that I could feel but could not see. Holding my breath, I waited. Would he be happy or mad at me? I felt him roll to me, his face right up to mine, breath mingling with my breath. His cock brushed my thigh. He was hard again. No talking. Kissing. Kisses that warmed me and lit me up on the inside. Kisses that made me take him in my hand and turn to press his length to me. My lips felt bruised,

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my heart somewhat bruised as well. A steady thump of desire filled my pussy but anxiety filled my chest. Uncle Ed put his hands to my waist, pushed the nightgown high and off. His hands worked me up the mattress and the whole bed rocked before a small splash of light ignited in the darkness. The nightlight on the baseboard glowed like a single gentle match. He took the pearls in his hand, his mouth crushing down on mine. Fingers found my pussy and he shoved into me, tugging the pearls gently so that I couldn't quite draw a deep breath. Blissful flowers of pleasure bloomed in my cunt, up into my belly. I sighed, arching up to his hand. "Yes, please." I knew what he was doing and I wanted a little more. "Good, good girl. Shh. Let me take care of it." His fingers slipped into me again and he pressed and nudged my G-spot with the tips of his fingers until I gasped for breath, then he tugged the pearls again and my pussy flickered around his fingers. So close to coming. It was a thick surreal kind of pleasure, almost tangible like fog. It filled my head. His cock nudged my opening, gentle this time. None of the anger from earlier. The steady beat of his heart against my breast and the insistent smooth pressure of the pearls at my throat had me swimming in a thick syrup of arousal. God I wanted him to fuck me. God, I would give anything. "Please, Uncle..." "Shh. Patience." He slipped the head of his cock into me and I had to fight not to arch up and make him slide home. I focused on drawing shallow breaths and then he slid a bit farther in. The girth of him stretching me, filling me. The coarse hair on his legs suddenly noticeable. The cinnamon toothpaste one his breath. The sandalwood in

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his cologne. The fat, thick, perfect length of his hard dick spearing me. I cried. Tears that ran down where the others had already been. I was desperate and a little crazy but I waited. He saw it too. "Good, Fiona. You always were well behaved." He thrust into me fast then and my body tensed up with a streak of fear and then an intense rush of warm yellow pleasure. I cried out but he cut it off by yanking the pearls a bit more this time. His body trapping me to the big mattress, his cock pinning me body and soul beneath him. I heard the howl of blood in my ears and the crickets screaming outside. I heard his breath like a freight train and the clock ticking, it sounded like two huge blocks being banged together. I saw colors and the air was thick like mist. My pussy seized up and I sobbed this time. The air almost gone but not quite, his dick almost as deep as I wanted but not quite. My heart not as broken as a few minutes before. All in the hazy blue light of night time. "Come for me, Fiona," he said in my ear. He bit my lobe, pulled those pearls and drove into me hard. One hand wedged under me so that he tipped me just enough. I came again. An orgasm that was a long winding ethereal tail of the first. His orgasm nipped close at the heels of mine. He released my pearl leash, kissed me again. A gentle kiss. A rewarding kiss. Thunder rumbled and I jumped. Lightning cracked the sky, turning the heavens into a periwinkle veined blanket. He curled me to him, his softening cock still inside of me. "You sleep here, sweetheart. I know how you are about storms." I didn't argue. Instead I let him unwind the pearls from my neck, tuck me close and then I fell asleep. Faster and sounder than I had in weeks. ****

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Saturday morning's light was dirty. The clear yellow air of late July was hushed by rain. I opened my eyes, confused for a moment. Then realizing I was in uncle’s bed, I stretched until I groaned. No sound from the private bath, he had to be downstairs. I smelled rich hints of coffee on the air and something else I couldn't place. It was late, after eleven and I rolled my eyes. Why had he let me sleep so long? A quick shower and I tied my wet hair, still streaked from beach time before I came to visit, back in a French braid. Cut offs and my Rolling Stones tee seemed perfect for a lazy Saturday. Maybe we could catch a movie or hit the bakery for a coffee and croissant. My body loose and lazy and pleasantly sore, I headed down to the sitting room. Half way down the steps I heard the tinkling laugh⎯flirtatious amused female. I tensed. Then I threw back my shoulders and hustled down the stairs. Uncle Ed was a grown man, he could do what he wanted. I marched through the front room, blue flowered flip flops smacking out an irate beat as I went. "Good morning, Fiona," Uncle Ed said as I passed, "You remember−" I didn't let him finish, I kept going. For whatever reason tears had started in my eyes and my throat had apparently shrunk to the diameter of a drinking straw. How could he? How could he be with me and have me sleep there next to him all through the night, his warm breath on my face, his hands on the small of my back, making me feel safe from the storm and then...entertain some common slut in the front room on a Saturday morning. I mean, what kind of man was he? A man you want.

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I slammed the fridge shut, sloshing orange juice into a glass. I slugged it back like a shot of whiskey and almost wished it was. I didn't turn even when I felt him there in the hallway, watching me. "That wasn't very nice, Fiona." "Sorry, thirsty," I said, pouring myself another belt and knocking it back. Where was the tequila? Maybe that would make a refreshing morning beverage. "Fi." "I don't want to meet whoever that is. I don't want her here. I wanted..." But I petered off, not sure of what I wanted, only knowing this wasn't it. "I've had this appointment for two weeks, sweetheart. I couldn't cancel and I figured you'd just sleep−" "Oh, so you figured I'd never find out!" I turned and orange juice leapt from the lip of the glass over my hand. "There is nothing to find out. You're being silly." He came to me then, took my hands. I should've felt comforted, I only felt stupid. I watched his fingers run smoothing circles over my hand, my fingers. "She's here about a scholarship. That's all. Just calm down." More tears. And I was powerless to stop them. I willed the floor to open up and swallow me. "I heard that laugh," I whispered. "That is the flirting laugh," I said. "I know you boys are stupid, but it is." "Stupid?" he laughed then. "You don't think I know that Ruth Mendell is flirting with me? Fiona, she was flirting with me when Carole was still alive." "And I'm sure aunt Carole didn’t like it either!" I broke free from his grasp. My mind filled with indecent decadent images from the night before. My head buzzed with

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remembrance of the dizzy high feeling of the pearls cutting off my air, the sinister and sensuous feel of that orgasm as it curled like invisible vines in my cunt and belly. "Shh. You'll make her uncomfortable. Now grab a coffee and come join us." "No." God help me but I stamped my foot when I said it. "Yes, Fiona. Do it or you'll be sorry." "I won't." I said, turning my back to him. "You will," he said, gripping my arms and turning me by force. His fingers bit into my skin painfully and I winced. He was so much stronger than I was. He stared me in the eye, his denim eyes flashing with anger. "Stop acting like a child and do as I ask." "But you wanted to fuck me when I was a child," I hissed and his hand rocked my head back before my eyes caught the flash of his palm. The slap brought tears to my eyes, I bit my tongue, tasting blood. I heard my own words. "Uncle—" "Shut up, Fiona. Get your coffee and come out and say hi the way you were taught. Be the young woman I've always been so proud of." Then he turned and stalked out. His jaw set, tense and angry. His eyes sad and betrayed. I poured my coffee feeling two feet tall and mean to boot. How would I make this up to him? Uncle Ed deserved better. **** Ruth Mendell is a stick bug of a woman. Tall and impossibly thin, I swear at time's she's damn near transparent. Her teeth are too big, her eyes are too wide and she laughs like a hyena, in my humble opinion. Despite all of that, she is an attractive package when you fit all of those atrocious bits together.

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"Well, look at you, all grown up, Fiona," she cooed, beaming at my uncle. Was this her version of a screen test? Was she trying out for the starring role as new aunt? I nodded, sipped my coffee so my mouth had something to do besides spit horrible curses upon her. I sat on the arm of uncle Ed's chair keeping my distance from the dreaded insect. But thinking of her that way made me giggle. I stopped it with another sip of coffee. Uncle looked up, a smile warring on is face, he patted my leg. mid-way, not high, but still, my body was programmed now and that gentle parental touch still released the water works under my panties, deep between the V of my legs. I squirmed. "I hear you’re going to school very soon?" Ruth said. Did she have to look so damn happy about it? I shrugged. "I guess. I was reconsidering the west coast, maybe I'll go to UConn." Uncle Ed's hand hesitated on my leg, then patted, then his thumb did an arcing sweep on my inner thigh that Ruth could not see from her angle. "Well, that would be wonderful, wouldn't it Ruth?" "Well, I...I guess it would." She gave me a pinched smile and then threw her dangerously sharp shoulder blades back and said. "Let's carry on Edward. I think this is fantastic what you are doing in Carole's memory." "What are you doing?" I asked softly. "A scholarship fund. We had no children of our own and in the event of one us dying, your aunt wanted to fund at least one struggling family to help their son or daughter go to college."

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I felt warm all over. That sounded like my aunt. Always wanting people to be happy. Tears prickled at my eyes and I tried to wipe them away. "Oh, Fiona, you always were the kind to cry at the drop of a hat," Ruth tsked. "Why don't you go and get bent?" I asked. "Fiona," Uncle Ed said lowly in my ear. It was a warning. I could have stopped there. "I only meant you're a sensitive type..." "And what type are you? My guess would be the buggy type." Then I laughed, so filled with sadness and jealousy and confusion. Uncle Ed's hand came down with a gentle slap. "That's enough, Fiona, go to your room until I'm done here. " I stalked off to the wonderful sounds of him placating the irate woman. "I'm sorry. She's really been a bit fragile lately. A lot of confusion, really. School and losing Carole and of course growing up is hard enough, plus I think she has some feelings for someone." Someone—yeah, him. I stood on the stairs, eavesdropping. More thunder boomed outside, yet another storm headed our way. "But you really shouldn't have been so damned condescending, Ruth," he said and I puffed up with pride. Hell, yeah! Give her what for. "What? Oh, I didn't mean..." "Yes, you did, Ruth. You did. We've known each other a long time and I have to tell you up front, I'm not interested. I've got too much in my head and my heart right now to deal with dating. Understood?"

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"Well, I—um, yes. Of course, Edward." I couldn't help but do a tiny dance on the hardwood steps. My toe caught in the runner and I nearly went down which would have killed me, but it would have been totally worth it to hear him put her in her place like that. "Let's move on with the plans." She said and then nothing but the rustling of papers and murmuring. I tiptoed up to my room and flipped on the TV. I peeked out the window at the darkening sky. The red fox looked up from Mr. John's garden and seemed to grin at me. I waved. It went on about its business, I guess searching for small pests in the vegetable patch. Finally, I saw Ruth trot briskly down the front walk to avoid getting hit by the first spits of rain. She was so fucking skinny I wouldn't have been surprised if she could run between the droplets. "Run, baby, run," I said to the glass. My door opened and I jumped. "Oh, hey, I'm so glad she's gone and listen, thanks for⎯" Then I saw his face and my stomach bottomed out. I felt the familiar buttery flutter of craving in my pussy and I crossed my legs without thinking, like I had to pee. He was pissed. Full-on angry, his face dark and his eyes a surreal storm blue. They had darkened with ire. He sat on the edge of my bed without a word. I was so quiet I heard the bedsprings groan with the sudden weight. "That was not how you were raised, Fiona." "I know but she was just so..." I waved my hands, frustrated. I had no words.

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"That's not how a young woman going into a nice college should act. Or one sharing my bed." The words hung there in the air, it seemed. Refusing to drop through the ether. They hovered between us like invisible but tangible specters. "I—" I was scared. My stomach sizzled with nerves, my throat felt small and tight. I worried my fingers together, resisting that urge to clench up my thighs or cross my legs. "Come over here, young lady," he said. His voice so soft but full of potential discipline. And worse—disappointment. "Uncle Ed, I'm so—" "Now. Take off the shorts. You can leave your panties on. Come on. Do as your told." He patted his knee and I felt the sinister slide of a tendril of fluid slip from my pussy. I moaned, fear and craving all mixed together. My body felt trapped by the air, like I was moving through water. I took down my shorts and walked to him with feet that suddenly weighed thousands of pounds each. He took my hand, touched my belly button through my Stones tee. My stomach muscles clamored at his touch. "How many do you think you should get for being so rude and embarrassing me?" "I...how many what?" His finger traced an invisible zipper up from my belly button to the hollow between my breasts. "You know, I’m still not at peace with myself over you. Sometimes I get angry at me. Once in a great while at you. You shouldn't feed that fire by being such a brat to the neighbors. They'll start to talk." That zipper went back down south, from breast bone to belly button, past it. Over the small swell of my lower abdomen to

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the top of my mound. Scorching cold blips of pleasure. Heat, chill, want, madness, all could be found in that single finger tracing a line on my body. "How many spanks do you think, Fiona?" Flabbergasted, I opened my mouth, closed it. Opened it, closed it. "I don't...um, six?" He laughed, a good deep belly laugh at that. "Oh, six? You think six will cover that atrocious behavior?" My face burned with blush and I shifted on my toes. God, I wanted to cross my legs to quell the beating pulse in my wet entrance. But I didn't, because I knew deep down that would not tamp it down, it would only stir it up. "Eight?" "We'll meet halfway," he said. "Twelve." "Twelve! But that's not meeting half—" "Want to go for thirteen?" He pulled me over his lap and smoothed his hands over my bottom. I arched into the touch instinctively until his hand came down on my ass. Hard. The crack of the blow hit my ears before I felt the blood rising in my skin. I jumped, letting out a howl. "Take it like a man, Fiona," he said softly. Blow two and three rained down and I jittered over his knee like a broken puppet. "I'm not a man!" I sobbed. "No, but you can be stoic if you try." His hands were back to smoothing and one finger wormed under the cotton and elastic of my panties to slide inside of my pussy, swirl in my gushing wetness, flex against my pussy walls until I saw spots because I

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was holding my breath. My pelvis was warmed with urges and needs, but I waited. Then they came. Four, five, six, seven, like fire dropping from Heaven to land on my skin. "Ow, ow, ow," I chanted, bucking like the horses we always saw at the fair. "Behave!" "I am behaving," I shouted, crying for real now. Dripping tears off my nose, down my face, tasting them with my tongue before they could drop. "No. You're not. And because you’re not, we're going bareback." "Bare—" But then I understood because he was pulling off my panties. My thin, cheap panties! But thin or cheap, no matter, they were in fact my only barrier. And now they were gone. Two fingers this time dipped into the well of my pussy. Stroked me until I let out little sighs like I was dying or slowly deflating. One or the other. "Oh, god, yes, just like that. Just like tha—" Blow eight, rocked my spine. Teeth of pain sinking into my buttock where bare flesh now met bare flesh. He let it register. Let the pain really rev up and then he landed nine. I didn't caterwaul this time. This pain was too real, too toothy, instead I bit my tongue and fell backwards into the white hot agony blossoming on my bottom. Nine, ten, eleven. He had gone from scolding to crooning as my body shook with his blows. My head would toss back and I'd make a small sound in my throat, half grunt, half moan, but I didn't carry on. "Such a good, brave girl. Good, brave, strong girl." He sighed out the words. Dropped them on the smooth skin of my back like kisses. He

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gave me everything I wanted from him. Approval, love, kindness. "Final one, Fiona. Twelve," he whispered. Twelve, I said in my head. Only to myself. I refused to say anything out loud because I did not trust my voice at all. Uncle Ed pushed me on the bed, face down. His lips traveled every inch of skin he had just tortured. His tongue and fingers gentle and soothing as he kissed it better, smoothed it better. I pushed up to meet his touch and let the tears leak out of my eyes and douse my white sheets. He pushed two pillows under my hips⎯one, two, plump and clean. He slipped his fingers into me, pressing and thrusting until an orgasm swelled inside of me and I cried out, losing my ability for silence. "There you go, good girl." He said. His zipper sounded like a gunshot, his belt like the Liberty bell. The slide of his jeans over his skin sounded like a freight train. Every sense I had was ratcheted up to huge. I let him part me, my body limp and loose and willing. He slipped himself inside of me as effortlessly as his fingers. Slow even strokes as he fucked me, fingers biting into my hips, holding me still so he could bang into me with a pounding rhythm that matched my heart. He rode me, me draped over the hill of pillows as his fingers plucked at my searing skin. He palmed the welts, pushed the bruises, milking fresh jolts of pain as he fucked me deeper. The pain morphed and twisted into pleasure until my fingers tangled in the slatted headboard so I could hang on. I rose up and back to meet him, begging him to go deeper, harder. "Touch yourself for me, Fiona. Come with me. Be my good little girl. Listen to your uncle, now." He said it all in his warm lilting caramel voice. I shoved one hand under me, taking ever blow of his hard dick that he delivered. I circled my clit, thumping

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with my pulse until something in him broke and he howled in the small quiet room, his hand gripping at my ass, my back, my thigh like he was drowning. He clutched at me and I pinched my clit, coming with him, tensing up around him, my pussy sucking his cock dry as he emptied into me. He lay flush atop me and we heard the birds in the pear tree again. His heartbeat kept time with mine, the sweat cooling on our skin. "They see the fox," I said softly, running my fingers though the dark hair on his arm, tracing the sun whitened scar on his skin. "What fox? There's no fox brave enough to run around here in the day time. We're kind of in the city, love." "I've seen it." My eyes started to drift and I got sleepier when he started to pet the throbbing marks on my bottom. It felt so good now that it was over. I wondered what it would look like. Would I bruise? I wanted to get up and check but I was too boneless and sleepy. "You're crazy," he said, kissing the back of my neck. "I'll make us some food. You rest. That takes a lot out of you." And it had. "I've seen it," I said again. "You're crazy," he repeated. He shut the bedroom door gently. "Like a fox," I said to no one. **** The rest of the afternoon we worked in the garden. The thunderstorm passed and the air was a tiny bit cooler. Not much, but enough that we could trim and yank and weed. All the things I adored doing in the overgrown back yard. It took me half the

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afternoon to find the stone angel in the back section by the gazebo. My shower before lunch was long gone and gnats hovered close to my sweaty skin drawn by the salt on my brow. "Ah, you found her. She always was your favorite thing out here. We have pictures of you inside, as a little girl, having a tea party with the angel." I traced her face with my fingertips. Black from time and rain and weather, she was still gorgeous. Her right hand held and open flower that could be filled with bird seed. I dug in my pockets, coming up empty. Uncle Ed handed me a coin. I turned it over in my hand and checked out the year. 1989. I was freshly nine when the coin had been minted. I put it in her hand and smiled. "There you go." "Why did you always do that? Leave her coins?" He came in closer, into the overgrown cover of ivy and small dogwoods, wild flowers and vines. No one could see us back here. Not yet. Not until we got the clippers and dragged off about sixty pound of foliage. I shrugged, even as he wrapped me in his arms from behind. His thumbs ran sweeping arcs over my nipples and they spiked through the worn dark fabric of my tee. I hummed in my throat at the good feeling of it all and then answered. "It just seemed like a nice thing to do. Like giving a friend a piece of candy." "Then why didn't you leave her candy?" "Bugs," I laughed. "Ah. Smart girl." I felt the subtle shift as his cock came to life, pressing hard and ready to the crack of my ass.

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I pushed back, touched the knuckles as he continued to sweep his fingers over my nipples until my belly buzzed with warmth. "That feels good." I turned in the circle of his arms, kissed him, my toes the only part of my feet touching the ground. A mosquito dive bombed me, buzzing like a fighter plane and he swatted it away. Uncle Ed kissed my lips, my temple, licking the salt off the tip of my nose, pushing at my brand new terry cloth shorts. We staggered back, my back and hips hitting the weathered wood of the gazebo. "Have you really thought of staying?" he asked. He scooped me up in his arms to carry me up the steps and I squealed at leaving earth so suddenly. Pressing his lips to mine he said, "Shh, we don't want to be found. How would we explain? How would I explain? I am supposed to be the sane adult here. Not the niece fucker." I tangled my hands in his hair, yanking sweaty clumps so he hissed against my lips. "Even if the niece wants the fucking? Deserves the spanking? Even if she begs for it?" I asked. "And yes." "Yes?" He'd forgotten with all my bad language. "Yes, I've thought of staying." "And you want it?" "I do." He set me on my feet and I tugged at his chinos. I wrestled the buttons and popped them all with a brutal tug. I dropped to my knees and slid his boxers to his big tan ankles. I took his cock in my mouth and sucked him hard, inhaling the heady woody scent of him. The smells of summer and forest and green growth. Sweat and cotton and man. I licked the rosy head of his cock, lapping at a gem of pre-come so perfectly shiny I had to smile. "Pretty," I said and traced my tongue down the back of his

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dick, feeling the vein beating against my tongue and feeling the tom-tom beat of want in my cunt answer his blood flow. "Come up here, Fiona," he sounded desperate. I sucked the head, jacking the slick length with my fist until he gasped. "No." "Come on, come up here." I took him all the way in, not caring that I gagged a bit. Not caring that I did not seem gentile. I took him all the way in until his cock and the smell of him filled my entire throat so that all I could breathe was him. His hand settled on my throat, squeezing gently and my pussy roiled with a huge gush of wetness. My cunt seized up like I was going to come and the pleasure was inexplicably big in me. It forced me to pull back and breathe though and he got his way, catching my hands up in his and pulling me up to him. "You really are a terrible listener sometimes," he said, pulling my tee up so he could grab my breasts. He pinched my nipples so hard I bit my tongue and little black spots jumped up in my vision. "Sorry, I just can't help it. I can't...get enough. Of you," I confessed. The belt came off with a whisking snap and he walked me back again. My shorts snagged on the wood and he got rid of them. He didn't tell me what to do, he did it. He put my hands above my head and looped his leather belt around them, tugging and buckling it so it bound me to the old, beaten scrolled wood. This time he dropped to his knees. He buried his face at the crossroads of my thighs and my pussy. Parted my nether lips with his fingers and sat back to look at me. He studied the flush landscape of my sex and smiled up at me. "Someone's ready."

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The way he studied me drove me insane. For the most part, I had been with boys. Still learning, unskilled, hurried, desperate boys. They never bothered to look at what they were fucking. Or figure out what felt good for me. Eventually they would, but usually sex was hurried and okay. Sex with uncle Ed was great. Phenomenal. Blissful. He blew gently on my clit, holding me open. I had never felt more exposed and perfect and beautiful. He blew again and I gasped. Naked but for my tee, legs spread, pussy opened like some exotic flower. He slipped a finger into me and blew again. Then only the tip of his tongue was touching me. A warm wet velvet torture device that he wielded against me. He tickled the tip of his tongue to my clit and my hands beat at each other bound as they were. I could only grapple with myself, so that is what I did. "Please, Jesus, don't do this." I tried to move my legs and he held my ankles. He held me at the angle he wanted as he did to me what he wanted. When I stilled the fingers returned to fuck me, a fat bundle of three fingers penetrating me, slamming me so that I felt the bite of splinters in my ass. I tried to open wider for him. Impossible. But I think if I could have turned myself inside out for him, I would. Finally, he gave into to me. Finally, he pushed his mouth, so wet, so wanted to my cunt and licked me. Alternating strokes so that I sobbed and begged and promised him everything but the moon. Or maybe I did. I fucked against his face, thrusting my hips with no shame. Screw being shamed, it felt too good. I ground my pussy to his face until I heard him sucking deep breaths of air before going back to fuck me with his tongue, lick me until I babbled. He sounded like a diver going down in the deep. I wanted to touch him but couldn't, my shoulders screamed with pain but the agony only amped up the delight.

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I came, whispering over and over, "Please, please, please, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." It was like a drum beat in my head. He stood. "Shush, Fiona, they'll hear." He kissed me and his face was smeared with me. Juices painted his face like war paint and I licked anything I could get, my legs climbing up his thighs, feet first in a frenzied jerky desperate attack. Anything to get him to sink into me. The thought of them seeing only made it that much better. That much dirtier. That fucking good. He grabbed my legs, hooking them around his hips, sliding the head of his cock along the slit of me. I pictured myself scarlet and soaked, opening for his hard rod. Sucking him into my body like some beautiful monster. It was really about eating his cock up with another part of myself, wasn't it? He speared me, fast and hard and I froze, back sliding along the splintery wood, pieces piercing me like some bizarre coming of age ceremony. "Okay?" "God, yes," I sighed, biting into his shoulder because it was all I could reach. But he grunted in my ear, a sound more animal than man and started to fuck me with the jerky off-beat rhythm of a man barely hanging on. "You taste like watermelon and lavender," he laughed. "You taste like youth and laughter and perfection, Fiona," he said in my ear. I was whispering words. What words I do not know. Everything he said to me made me feel lighter, more perfect, adored. "You taste like sunshine and ice cream and stubbornness."

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His fingers pinched and bit into my ass where it was still so bruised and tender that breathing on it made it sing. I yelped, my pussy squeezing him, the echoes of goodness rolling up from my pelvis to my belly to my breasts until I felt full of light. I was going to come. Hard. "You taste like clean sheets and green grass and fresh cucumbers." He was gasping now. I kissed more of me off his face. I licked his stubbled chin, nibbled his jaw, ran the flat of my tongue up his cheek. He groaned. I grew tighter still. "You taste like goodness and delight, Fiona." "Yes," I said because it was all I could think to say. "Yes," I echoed myself. He froze, eyes locked with mine. Lips brushing mine, fingers digging into my skin as he balanced me there. His cock deep inside my pulsing cunt. "You taste like home," he said and covered my mouth with his. He thrust hard, going stiff, emptying into me while the wet rush of my orgasm rose like floodwaters until I swore I was drowning. Drowning in my pleasure, drowning in him, drowning in us. When he let me down I winced, my back full of wood and bits of the gazebo I picniced on as a child. "I love you," I said, not afraid to say it anymore. "I always have, only now it's a different kind of love." "I know. Me, too. A different kind of love for sure." He pecked me on the nose. "Run up to the house, we have to take care of that back of yours. I'll be there in a moment." I turned to look on my way back. Saw him standing over a small stone he had placed by the angel. It was for aunt Carole. My heart kind of tilted sideways but I saw

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him clear it off and then smile. It was a real smile. It looked like real happiness.

I lay on the bed. The thunderstorm had swept back through. Rain slammed the window pains, a nice sound to fall asleep to. Only I couldn't fall asleep because he was digging splinters out of my ass one by one with tweezers. Every time uncle got one out, he kissed the wound and then swabbed it with warm water. "I saw the fox," he said. Thunder boomed so loud the windows rattled and I jumped. The tweezers jabbed me and I hissed. "Stay still!" He laughed, though. "You okay?" "Fine, fine. What's a little more blood?" I teased. "Where did you see her?" "Next door, checking out Felix," he laughed. "She won't hurt him," I assured him. "Isn't she pretty?" "You seem enamored." I shrugged, again serving to jab myself with the tweezers. "Goddammit!" He plucked another one free, kissed my poor skin, swabbed me. "Yes, I am enamored. I love her, I think." "Why?" Uncle Ed pulled a particularly stubborn one from my lower back and I shook my head to keep from complaining. "Because she's brave and clearly knows what she wants and doesn’t let anything stop her," I said, head down as he pulled at my skin again. It wasn't so much painful as severely annoying. "You two have a lot in common, then." His lips dipped to kiss my ass, literally. But this time, he kept kissing. Soft, butterfly kisses like balm on my bottom.

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"What do you mean?" I arched up and his hands smoothed up and down the backs of my thighs. I went loose under his touch, sinking into the mattress, listening to the rain. "Well, you are the same. Brave, strong, you go after what you want. And if you want to stay, we'll work it out. We'll make sure you get a great education and we'll..." "Figure it out?" I looked at him over my shoulder as he ran his knuckle down the back of my calf. Muscles I hadn't realized were tense unwound like spools of ribbon as he worked them. "Yes, we'll figure them out. And you don't have to promise me anything." I didn't say anything. I nodded, shut my eyes as his fingers and his lips traveled up and down the backs of my legs. He rubbed my feet until I swear to you my pussy thumped with arousal. I felt like I would come from the press of his thumbs on the pad of my foot. When he entered me this time, it was one blessed inch at a time. No ties or pearls or negligees. Just a man, face to face with a woman, sinking slowly into her body. Watching her face, watching for pleasure, kissing her like she might disappear if he wasn't careful. He slipped his fingers under my ass, tilted me up a little. I wrapped my long legs around his waist, opening myself to him. The angle smacked the flat of his pelvis to my clit every time he thrust. I came in no time at all, biting him again, sinking my teeth into his shoulder so that someone, even if it was only me, would know he was mine now. I claimed him. I kissed the jagged marching line of my teeth marks, and rose to meet his thrusts. The warmth of his chest pressed to my breast stole my breath, the scrape of his new

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beard growth on my jaw had me dizzy. I wanted it all and then again and then again still. If our next fuck had us barely moving in an exhausted stunned dance of cock and cunt, I didn’t care. I'd take it. But that was not now. Now was slow. I pulled at him, tight and tighter still, until he laughed and pinned my hands above my head with one big hand. He rocked into me, going slower instead of faster, eyes on me the whole time. "Shh, now feel that?" He rocked back and forth instead of thrusting and my whole cunt flooded with joy. "Fuck, yes, I feel it. Do you feel that?" "That tight little pussy threatening to snap my dick off?" he laughed. "Yes, sir," I said. And then he rocked a little more and I came again. When I cried out, he kissed me, swallowing my sounds with his mouth. "So, you'll stay. At least to see how the first year goes." Barely moving, he watched my face. I grinned. "Um...I believe the saying is...duh". One slow agonizing thrust and he came. A hiccuping, languid kind of orgasm that had his face contorted so he looked like, behind his closed lids, he saw Heaven. Maybe he did. **** "Oh, my god, she's coming back!" I said. I flipped the pancakes and one slid off the griddle and hit the floor. Uncle Ed grinned at me, scooped to pick it up. He tossed it, overhand like a basketball player, into the trashcan. "You'll be fine."

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"Might I remind you that the last time that...person came here you ended up taking it out on my hide!" "You deserved it," he said, pinching my ass as he passed. I yelped but my pussy stirred from the trigger. "True, but still. Why is she coming back?" "I've reworked some of the finer points and I think with the life insurance and some stocks that Carole chose, we can manage two scholarships. Your aunt was brilliant with money and it's thanks to her that I should never hurt for money and neither should you. Not to mention, Ruth might be annoying but she's a damn fine attorney." He pulled me in and kissed me. I had worried over the weeks, what would people say? Could we ever come out as a couple without a huge backlash? Should we move? It had all run through my head like whirlwind. The conclusion was that we should figure it out in good time. The trick was not to be afraid but be smart. I learned that from watching our fox. School started in two days and I needed to be brave. It had been a mad scramble and much string pulling for Jack to get me in on such short notice. "Well, I guess for that she can come into the house." I scowled at him but I was kidding. "Gee, you're a saint," he said. His lips rested above my beating pulse and he just stood there, holding me while I cooked. "This is what I'm saying! I am a saint!" I piled the pancakes high and calculated what time I should call home to speak to Mom and Jack. No one was batting an eyelash. I had always loved Connecticut and had

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talked about U Conn for years. Living with your uncle who is so close to school to save money was a no brainer. At least for Mom. Jack hesitated and finally settled with, "Just know that if you decide to give campus life or an apartment a try, Fi, all you have to do is say the word." I had promised Jack I would. Part of me thought he might know, but Jack was fifteen years older than Mom, I doubted he would say boo to me about uncle. "You better be careful," I whispered and turned off the burner. I spun to face him, locking my arms behind his neck and pushing my tongue into his mouth. He ground his hardening cock to the seam of my pussy lips and even through my pajama pants I felt such a sudden rush of need it was heady. "Why is that? "She's a nosey one, uncle. She might peek in a window and see us. She'd tell everyone." "Maybe you should call me Ed," he laughed. "Don't you think?" I ran my fingers up the long ridge of his arousal and reveled when his eyes slammed shut from my touch. "Can I still call you uncle while you fuck me?" "Jesus, Fiona," he said, he yanked me up and set me on the counter, legs splayed, hard cock seated perfectly in the crotch of pj pants. The doorbell rang. "That's her," he said. "I told you! That woman is Satan." "Shit," he said, but he was laughing. He tugged his tee out of his jeans and let it cover the bulge of his hard-on. The he left me there, high and dry. Okay, the high part was true, but I was anything but dry.

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I hopped down, making two plates of pancakes, bacon and blueberries. I added coffee, took a deep breath and made my way into the living room. "Good morning, Ruth!" I said in my best fake hostess voice. "Can I get you some coffee? Maybe some pancakes? Have you eaten yet? There's plenty." "Hi, Fiona," She seemed unsure at first but then smiled. "No food, but I'd kill for a cup of your uncle's joe, it is the best." "Because it's strong," I said with an almost real smile. "Right! We were just discussing the name of the fund. Edward doesn't think your aunt would have wanted her name in the main title." I poured the coffee, passed it out. "Hmm, I think he's right about that." Ruth sipped her coffee and grinned. "God, that is good!" I gave uncle his and perched on the arm of his chair just like last time. I sipped my coffee, considering the name. Outside the window the fox ran from behind the Martins’ garage to the side garden next door. "How about The Red Fox Fund for Higher Learning in memory and honor of Carole Briggs?" Ruth put her hand to her chest and uncle Ed patted my leg. "Well, I think that sounds fabulous. Did you know we have a fox in the neighborhood?" she asked. "So I've heard." Three cups of coffee, scads of paperwork and a promise to come to one of her cookouts and we got her out the front door. I fell back on uncle Ed’s lap with a sigh. "Boy, am I glad that woman is gone!" I said. "And now just because she wants to get in your pants."

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I could feel him growing hard under my wiggling butt and I tried not to give a tell tale smile. "Speaking of pants..." He grinned, it was entirely boyish and sexy. "Mmm-hmm?" I turned to kiss him. He pulled me tighter and I spun, knees driving up under his armpits and I try to get closer. To straddle him. To kiss him until he lost his control and took me upstairs. Which should be any minute now. "Let's go up and get you out of yours." I wiggled again, liking the feel of his arousal and the feeling I had inside of belonging. I didn’t know how it would all ultimately turn out. I had a lifetime ahead of me. And so did he. But for now, I was exactly where I needed to be⎯where I was happiest⎯on uncle Ed's lap. And pretty soon, in uncle Ed's bed.

The End

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ABOUT PARKER FORD Parker Ford writes all her dirty stories in her head during her day job. Just an average secretary working for a small publishing house, she adores her secret, filthy inner life. She often races home to jot them down and share them with her husband. He often races her to the bedroom to act them out. They live with one very spoiled dog and a plethora of 'adopted' wildlife outside their home. And yes, she knows that Parker is usually a boy name, apparently that is a memo her parents didn't get. Reach her at [email protected]

If you enjoyed UNCLE ED’S LAP, you might also enjoy:

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NAUGHTY BITS By Selena Kitt David has been brightening up his gray Surrey, England days with the porn collection hidden in his parents’ shed, but when he finds that his older sister, Dawn has discovered his magazine collection, things really begin to heat up. Their parents insist that their just-graduated son look for a job, but their daughter has the week off and is determined to work on her tan. Distracted David finds himself increasingly tempted by his seductive older sister, who makes it very clear what she wants. Her teasing ways slowly break down the taboo barrier between brother and sister until they both give in to their lust… but what are they going to do about the feelings that have developed between them in the meantime…? Warning: This title contains graphic language and sibling incest. Excerpt From NAUGHTY BITS:

If my mum and dad found out about my collection of porn in the shed, I knew they’d both kick-off and I’d be sleeping under a bench in the Underground, buying papers to keep me warm—instead of buying them like I was now, looking for a job. As it 56

was, they were on at me to find something, and fast. I didn’t get why I had to figure it all out, what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. What was the rush? My sister, Dawn, got to preen around the health club at her summer job. So why was I supposed to find something “responsible?” Dawn had been living at home since she finished school, aside from a couple of disastrous attempts at living with a roommate that my parents had ended up paying more for in the long run, anyway. My parents made all sorts of exceptions for her. I had hoped that her laziness, or as my mother put it, her “lack of focus,” might pave the way for me to spend some time loafing off after I finished school, too, but no—apparently, Dawn got the welcome mat, but I got threatened with the boot. I didn’t get it. I shut the back door and looked up at the sky. We didn’t get days like this in Surrey very often—so bright and blue and clear. We spent most of our time walking around in the usual London grey, looking at a hazy kind of film over the sun. Days like today made me remember being a kid, endless summers with no responsibilities, no cares, no worries. So much for that, I thought, flopping the paper down on the patio table and glaring at it. I sat in one of the folding chairs and took a highlighter out of my pocket. The first thing I circled was a construction company. Maybe I could find something working outside—get a tan, build some muscle. That might lead to getting a girlfriend, I thought hopefully. That got me to thinking about Julie Entwistle, the girl rumoured to wear nothing under her skirts in sixth form. She sat right next to me in English, but I never did see anything—not that I didn’t try. For a girl who was supposed to be a slag, she sure kept her legs together a lot.

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Thinking about Julie’s skirt, and more importantly, what might be found under her skirt, made my jeans uncomfortably tight. I shifted in the chair, shoving at my crotch and turning the page of the newspaper, re-focusing my efforts. The ad that caught my eye read: Exotic dancers wanted to perform at private, solo, and bachelor parties… I snorted—so much for trying to focus. Now my cock was officially hard. I glanced over at the shed, thinking of the boards my dad stored in there that “might come in handy” some day. They came in handy for hiding my porn collection. I folded the paper up and tucked it under my arm, heading toward the shed. My dad’s toolbox doubled as a step stool and was perfect for sitting on. I dug under the boards, pulling out my meagre collection. Two Playboys and a Penthouse, although the latter was a “Letters” edition, and the stories were pretty hot. The last one was my favourite, a magazine called Naughty Bits, which was way more hardcore than the others. I’d never seen another one before or since, although believe me, I’d looked. I opened it up to my favourite page, and there she was. Blonde, although clearly dyed because her pubes were dark, a full-breasted and full-bodied girl—really unusual for most spreads nowadays where the models were like stick figures. This woman was, well… a woman. The next best part was the layout itself—a girl all alone on her bed looking at porn. Did girls do that? I loved how she rolled over and spread her legs, revealing that there was nothing under her skirt. She started masturbating, and would you look at that, next page, here comes her brother. Probably it was her boyfriend, but I had this fantasy in my head that it was her brother. And the next thing you know, she’s sucking him off.

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God, how I wished it was that easy. Hi there, whoops, didn’t mean to interrupt, but since I’m here, zzziiiip, flop, here’s this hard cock you can suck… I unzipped my jeans and tugged them down a little, slipping my hand into my boxers. Nowhere near as big as the guy positioning his cock at her pink little hole (I loved that picture, her fingers spreading herself open for him like that. Gah! Did girls do that?) but respectable enough—nice and thick, and most definitely stiff. She did it for me, every time. I started masturbating, my eyes skipping from the wet pink of her cunt to her thick, dark pink nipples. I spent some time there, wanking away and staring at the slit between her legs. She spread it open with both hands, and there was a little hole there, right where I wanted to slide my cock, a small dark hollow leading to heaven. I got myself good and worked up before starting to turn the next page, because it was my favourite, and it was the image I always came to—her ass up in the air, his cum sliding down her asshole and cunt. I was looking forward to that image, still staring between her legs. I only stopped for a moment, breathless, to turn the page, and I saw something that made my cock jump and my heart race. There was writing in the margin, near the page number. An arrow toward the girl (god, look how that thick cum slid down that pink slit!) and the words, “She looks like me.” That was Dawn’s handwriting—the fat, curly letters, the heart over the “i.” My sister had been looking at my porn? Why, I wondered? If she wanted to get me in trouble, she could have taken it to my mum. Instead, she just wrote in the margins. And what she’d written! I flushed. I knew the girl looked remarkably like my sister—the dyed blonde hair, the full body, the mischievous eyes, the slanted smile—that was Dawn. Was she just making an observation? Was she implying that I lusted after her?

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I didn’t have any more time to think about it. Someone was knocking on the shed door! I stood, tucking my cock back in and zipping up, shoving the magazines back under the pile of boards. “David!” It was Dawn. Of course, who else? My parents wouldn’t be home for hours—it was only ten in the morning. “What?” I called, trying to sound impatient. I tucked my paper back under my arm, grabbed a can of insect spray off the shelf and opened the door. She was standing there in a white bikini, the flesh of her breasts spilling over the top. My cock, with barely enough chance to wane as it was, jumped to life again at the sight. “Jesus, Dawn!” I made a face. “Put some clothes on.” “It’s gonna be sunny and warm all day.” She put her hands on her hips and drew my eyes there. “I’m spending my time catching rays!” “Whatever.” I stepped out of the shed into the fresh air. “What were you doing in there?” She smirked, peering into the dim shed. I waved the insect repellant at her. “Big-arse spider out on the patio table.” “Sure there was.” She moved toward the lounge chair where she had spread a towel. How long had she been out here, I wondered? I put the can on the table. “There was. It’s obviously crawled off somewhere. Maybe it’s on your lounge chair.” She stuck her tongue out at me. “Quit being such a pain in the arse. I’m in a good mood and you’re not going to spoil it.”

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Dawn positioned her chair, looking up toward the sun as she did, and then crawled on. Her bikini bottoms rode up between her cheeks and I flashed on the picture in Naughty Bits that I’d found the writing on—her arse up in the air, cum sliding down her slit. I sat down at the table, putting the paper in my lap to cover my erection. “What’s got you so perky?” I scowled. She was lying on her back, now, and she lifted her sunglasses to look at me. “It’s my first day on holiday, you git! Two whole weeks off work!” I turned my chair away from her, opening my paper back up. My cock was still throbbing and watching her oil herself up out of the corner of my eye wasn’t helping. She was slathering lotion all over, rubbing it into the creases, even between her toes. I could smell the stuff, like coconuts, as if a tropical smell was supposed to make you turn darker. “You find anything in there yet?” She dropped the lotion next to her chair and leaned back. Her breasts jiggled in the white bikini top when she did, and I couldn’t help watching. Seeing real flesh move was different from looking at a picture in a magazine. I found myself wondering what it would feel like to touch her there, just the top of her breast, all shiny from the oil. I flushed. “No.” I turned my eyes back to the paper. “There’s nothing out there.” “Well, mum and dad won’t let you scrounge off them forever, you know.” She threw an arm up over her head. “Sod off!” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not the one who’s still living with my parents at twenty-five.”

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I stood up, deciding to go into the house. Maybe take another shower. I felt hot and sweaty, although it wasn’t really that warm out here, yet. “Hey.” Dawn lifted her sunglasses again. Her eyes were soft, and so was her smile. “You wanna do something for me?” “If it involves lotion and your back, forget it.” I reached for the back door. “I’m your brother, remember?” She stuck her tongue out. “If you’re going in the house… maybe you could bring out one of dad’s bottles of wine?” I raised my eyebrows at her. “The good stuff?” “Yeah.” She grinned. “Why not? Let’s celebrate my holiday…”

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