French Niece??

Amelie's last exam was on the sixteenth and she planned to fly home on the eighteenth and I was actually looking forward to her departure, knowing I needed to be alone as I pondered our future, still afraid of making the commitment I knew we'd demand of each other.

Gloria Jones arrived on my doorstep the night of the seventeenth, an old student and ex-lover, who was now a Professor at a school in the mid-west, just home for the holidays. Amelie was out with friends for dinner when Gloria arrived, and whether I did it out of horniness, or frustration at my situation, or just to hurt Amelie, I don't know, but for whatever reason the pretty professor and I were rolling naked in my bed before I knew it.

Gloria was crouched over me, eagerly sucking my fat cock, when Amelie opened my door, a bright smile on her face. I heard her stunned gasp as the first spasm of ejaculation exploded up my prick, and watched as her face collapsed before she fled.

I fucked Gloria hard, again and again, tears continually falling down my cheeks as her screams of ecstasy echoed throughout the house and I fell asleep trying to convince myself this was probably the best thing that could happen, that the other road could only lead to unhappiness.

The bed was empty when I woke the next morning and I stumbled to the bathroom and the shower ashamed of myself, wanting to hurry and clean the sticky evidence of my betrayal from my body. Water was dripping from me, only a towel around my waist, when I heard the screaming argument downstairs.

"You cow, you fat slut," rebounded up towards me as I rushed downstairs. "You filthy, disgusting pig, COCHON," the final French oath telling me whose hate, anger I was hearing. As I arrived at the ground floor Gloria rushed out of the kitchen, orange juice dripping from her face and clothes, almost running in her haste to escape.

"Gloria, Gloria," I yelled as she sped unseeing by me.

"She's fucking crazy!" she screeched. "Your niece is such a little bitch Peter, a fucking little bitch," were Gloria's last words as she fled through the front door.

We watched each other warily for what seemed like minutes before Amelie finally broke. "You bastard, you knew, you knew, why…….you fucker," she cried, an almost manic wildness in her eyes.

"So you took it out on her? Your anger at me? Did it make you feel good, hurting someone like that?"

"Fuck you Peter," she sneered, "She's just a little American cocksucker Uncle, just someone you used to hurt me."

"I'm sorry about last night Amelie, hurting you. I never, ever wanted to hurt you," I started, "but you had no right to do what you did. You are a little bitch, its time you grow up and start acting like an adult," I fumed, my anger overcoming the guilt I felt.

"Who fuckin cares? You showed me what you think. I HATE YOU!" She finished as she fled away from me. Two hours later, she stood on my doorstep, her suitcase in her hand, waiting for the cab she had ordered, having refused my offer of a ride. "I'll find somewhere else to live when I come back Peter," she said listlessly as she moved toward the cab, "If I come back."…………

I felt sick for the next week, continually reliving our parting, our argument, wondering how I could possibly salvage my love. As Christmas day approached, I prayed she'd call, wondering if I shouldn't just jump on a plane and cravenly beg her forgiveness.

"Joyeux Noel, [Merry Christmas]" I heard tentatively whispered, when I groggily picked up the phone that had awakened me late on Christmas morning.

"Hi," I answered as I felt an explosion of joy smash through my body. "I miss you Amelie."

"Me too. I'm sorry Uncle Peter, so sorry. I called your friend last night, I…… I tried to apologize, I don't know if"

"It doesn't matter Amelie. I think this is the nicest Christmas present I've ever got," I said, trying to control the wetness that was threatening to flood from my eyes.

"I'm wearing yours," she said, laughing through her tears. "In fact, that's all I'm wearing, can you imagine? They're hanging on my naked breasts, tickling my hard nipples Uncle, exciting me," she teased, an urgent panting in her voice.

"I wish you were here honey, I'd love to have one of your perfect nipples between my teeth, to be able to cup your breast, to kiss your sweet clit"

"You know Americans don't do that Uncle," she laughed huskily, and then added, "Mama wants to know why you gave me just an expensive gift, why I got pearls and she only got a silver choker. It almost looks like a slave collar Uncle."

"Tell your Mama I love her so much and that I just wanted her to get used to what it feels like to be the property of a strong man. That she has only until July before I get angry. Don't tell her that in front of your Dad," I warned.

"Do you and Mama have secrets Uncle Peter?"

"When are you coming home, Amelie?" I countered.

"Home?"

"I love you Amelie."

"Me too. Friday, I'll be back Friday Peter. Will you take me out for New Years Eve? Can we go to Times Square?" she asked excitedly, "Will you kiss me, kiss your little French niece when the New Year comes? I'm holding your pearls against me Uncle, against my wet slit. Oh I just put three, no four, no six inside me Peter. They feel so good, oh I wish it was your"

"You little tease; wait til you feel a real American spread your puffy, pink lips with a big, no huge, no eeeeenormous hot monster penis…." I laughed.

Chapter 5 - New York City, 2004/2005

Amelie's flight was late, delayed for two hours on the tarmac at Orly by a freak storm, and so she only landed at ten o'clock on New Years Eve. When she finally appeared through the doors from immigration and saw me, she ran shrieking toward me and I had to catch her as she leapt the final eight feet, landing smiling against my chest as her legs locked around my waist, her tongue stretching to find mine.

"Oh Oncle Pierre, je t'aime [I love you], she yelled between long kisses, "Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime," she continued, laughing and hugging me as a bemused public swirled gawking past us.

"Are you drunk?" I asked grinning, easily tasting the champagne on her flicking tongue.

"No! I just had a glass or two my beautiful uncle, they wanted to reward us for being so patient during the delay," she explained as she continued to kiss me. "Did we miss Times Square? I want to see the big ball Uncle"

"No sweetie, if we rush we still have time to get there, c'mon, lets go," I answered as I lowered her to her feet. I had to hold her arm as we ran, Amelie's two glasses must have been very large, I thought, as she teetered unsteadily beside me.

Can you love someone too much I wondered, as Amelie stood nestled against me among the throngs near 42nd Street, everyone's eyes riveted on the big silver ball that was slowly descending. Our lips were locked together when 2005 arrived, and I could feel her body shivering under my hands as I lifted her off her feet, holding her as tightly as I dared.

"Promise you'll never let me go Uncle," Amelie pled, a new desperate edge in her voice.

"Jamias ma petite, [never my little one]," I promised, suddenly aware of how empty my life would be without her, of how easily she could destroy my life.

I had to carry her from the taxi at five that morning, as we had caroused from bar to bar throughout the night, and deposited her giggling form in the middle of my King size bed.

"Are we home Uncle?"

"Yes my love, you're home now."

"Will you sleep with me tonight Uncle Peter?" were her last words before she fell unconscious, a sweet smile spread across her face.

I finally roused early the next afternoon, awoken by a tickling sensation on my nose, and opening my eyes saw a long white feather dancing over my skin. "Hi honey," I said as I saw Amelie's bright eyes following every movement she made with the plume.

"Finally, sleepy head wakes up," she pouted. "A beautiful angel in his bed and my handsome Uncle passes out, incapable of anything."

"Ha, ha honey," I growled as I rolled over and on top of her, letting her experience what it would be like under my powerful body. "Actually Amelie, I ravished you while you slept, penetrating your little cunny with my magnificent organ."

"You lie," she protested, but then added coyly, "Maybe you did and I didn't even notice it."

Hardening, I let her feel all of me against her stomach. Then I rubbed my full body aggressively against her, grinding as I forced her knees apart with my legs, holding her arms effortlessly over her head in one hand while the other caressed, kneaded and stretched her straining nipples.

"Uhhhhnnnnn," she gasped as I filled her, and then wrapped her legs around my waist as I started to thrust into her. We both needed a physical fuck that day and neither of us gave an inch as we fought to satisfy ourselves.

I was still hard and inside her after we had both cum, and could feel our orgasmic juices leaking past my cock and onto her heaving thighs. "Fuck me Uncle Peter, please fuck me again," she pled as she lay sweating under me.

I started again, and with long unhurried strokes slowly brought her towards another orgasm, and then as I sped up, and as I felt the first tremors radiate from her centre, told her, "Amelie, I'm not your Uncle, I'm your Daddy."

I saw the shock in her eyes as my first and second and third ejaculations flooded her now pulsing centre, and her questioning groan of 'Daddddddddddddy' eerily bounced off the walls, an almost continuing accusation.

"How? Why? I can't be!" she gasped as we panted side by side. "You fucked Mama? When?"

I talked for minutes, whispering in her ear, trying to somehow explain our past, how I had impregnated her Mom.

"I never understood," she finally responded, "How Mama and Papa ever had me, I was sure they never made love. It's weird, when ever I asked Mama, about sex, about men, when I was younger I mean, it never made sense. I thought she was a lesbian for awhile but then…. I just didn't know"

I tried to explain my theories about Marie to her daughter, about how I believed she was fighting unhappily against her true sexual nature.

"Do you want her? I mean to come and live with you, with us."

"Yes sweetie, I've always wanted her with me."

"And now?"

"You're my love, my wife, my future," I whispered.

She watched me pensively for what seemed like minutes, baring my soul with her gaze before finally asking, a small grin forming at the corner of her mouth, "How many children do you want?"

"Five, six, seven," I laughed back.

"Do you think you're capable, old man, capable of satisfying someone as beautiful as I?" she demanded as her hand snaked around my shaft.

"Don't you worry about me daughter," I threatened, "But first I'll just check and see what your little clit tastes like."

"Remember Daddy, we're in America," she teased as she eased her lips over my cockhead.

We hardly left the bed for the next three days, and I think we both knew that our first child was already growing in her stomach. Amelie finally called her Mom in mid June, telling her she wouldn't be home for the summer and that she was pregnant with her first child.

Five minutes later Marie was on the line with me, demanding, "Why did you let my poor sweet darling get into trouble," etc. etc. etc.

"You better come over Marie, your daughter needs you," I argued.

After back and forth haggling she finally agreed, promising she'd book a flight immediately and that she'd be in New York within days.

"Marie," I cautioned.

"Yes."

"Pack everything you'll need – for a long visit Marie. And Marie, bring your collar."

Two days later I went to the airport to pick her up and had to smile as I saw her approach. She was braless under a skimpy silk top, a top held up by just two spaghetti thin straps, which left her neck bare except for a shiny silver band, my Christmas collar.

"Are you willing to wear it always?" I asked as she floated into my welcoming arms.

"I'm staying Peter, forever," she insisted, as she glued her body into mine.

Chapter 6 - New York City, Today, November 24 2005

It's warm now in the room as I sit here typing my story on my laptop; I can feel the warmth coming from the fireplace across from me, the first of many fires I'll light this winter in my cozy den.

"Are you almost finished Papa?" I hear my daughter Amelie ask from her chair next to the sofa.

"Oui Cherie" [yes love], I answer, quickly glancing up fondly at my love, our daughter Natalie sucking eagerly at her fat teat. "She looks hungry tonight," I say grinning as I type, captivated by the sight of my two girls.

"Don't worry Papa, there's lots more, you and Mama will each get your share."

Marie is nestled beside me on the sofa as I type and momentarily I move my right hand to her hair, gently stroking her neck, her shoulder, her hard nipple before I reluctantly return my fingers to the keys. She's wearing my collar proudly now and the only other covering on her delectable body is the string of black pearls I gave her for her birthday just two weeks ago.

"She's finished," Amelie announces to us as she rises slowly, holding Natalie in her hands. As she sets her down in her bassinet, I watch Amelie as she moves, entranced as always by her beauty. She's bigger now, her full breasts now extravagant with their loads of nutritious milk, and I can't help but lick my lips as I see the drips of white cream at each distended nipple.

She catches me watching and laughs, "You'll have to wait Daddy, Mama's first."

My fingers are flying now, urgent to finish this work, and as Amelie sits down on the sofa, on the other side of Marie, I feel the first lengthening twitch in my pants. She's naked under the long, dark red skirt she wears I know, her only covering, and I yearn for her, this insatiable hunger that seems to endlessly attack me now.

As Marie leans away from me and moves her mouth towards Amelie's waiting nipple, I release my right hand once more, sliding it up between Marie's silky thighs. She's wet I discover as my fingers slip through the thick pelt protecting her pink insides, my mind in three places as I try to finish these last words with my left hand.

Even as she drinks from her daughter Marie reaches back, seizing me, freeing my now rampant monster, stroking me first before guiding me into her opening, engulfing me in her tightness,

"Daddy! Mama!" Amelie cries as I ……………..

THE END

I write my stories simply to amuse and excite. And if you've got this far perhaps I've succeeded. Please let me know how you liked the story. Your feedback is the best part of the whole process. E-mail me or IM me or post a public comment below; anonymously or openly. I will answer back to all who leave a contact address. Pleassssse!