Living with My Nieces

Most of the time the girls would do their nails, fingers and toes, in either the bathroom or the bedroom, but on occasion one or more of them would move out to the living room. It was usually a time that singled the possible availability of the bathroom, at least long enough for his own shower and shave. But, such times could also be the best of times, for the painting of fingernails and toenails would often jostle a breast, threaten a towel, or most appreciated of all, require a leg to be raised, bent or both, thereby opening up the towel between the thighs, providing a very wonderful up-towel peek.

Paul at first avoided the living room when this morning routine was in progress, feeling that it was really terribly inappropriate to voyeuristically admire his nieces in this way. That was really going much too far. Heck, if he was going to do that he might as well drill a hole in the wall to peek at them in the bathroom. He certainly wouldn't do that.

But Billie Jo would call for him to bring her a cup of coffee and join her in conversation. She said she just liked the early morning talks. An early morning conversation was always so relaxed and intimate, and Paul certainly enjoyed the early morning view. He eventually developed a pretty good understanding of each niece's cunnie.

Billie Jo was entirely shaved, and had very thick, fleshy, womanly lips that were very easy to discern even in the shadows beneath her towel, although the position in which she would sit let her inner thighs and cunnie be very well lighted. She might even adjust the light to give her a better view of her toe nails, which invariably also caused the light to literally shine up her towel and enlighten the view of her cunnie. When she was done she would hold out her foot and ask him how her nails looked. Her lips looked so, so, so very good, but he confined his comments to her toes, which he invariably said looked pretty enough to nibble, causing her to giggle and perhaps even open up her thighs a bit, or at least so he thought.

Bobbie Jo was not fully shaved. She had a nice dark landing strip that had the effect of drawing one's eyes to her sweet feminine lips, if that was really necessary. She was though otherwise shaved, and her lips consisted of just a very delicate little slit. Sometimes he felt he could even detect a bit of glistening moisture, a sort of morning dew. He wondered if that was some sort of special vaginal make-up she used.

Betty Jo was not shaved at all, but it didn't really make any difference. She just had a wispy very light bush of strawberry red hair, complementing the auburn curls on her head. One could still easily see her cunnie, which was a lovely delicate little crevice. It was just this little coin slot, perhaps capable of taking only a thin little dime.

Paul was not treated to this vaginal show every morning. It was really unpredictable, but it became well worth shifting to the living room once he had finished his breakfast, just in case there might be a morning cunnie presentation.

If Paul got up real, real early he could beat the girls to the shower but then he would have no excuse for having breakfast with them. Of course, he could then get to work even earlier, but breakfast was such a very nice way to spend some quality time with the girls, to talk about what their plans were for that day, whether they were enjoying their stay, how the beauty training was going, and just catching up on their lives. His balls were well churned by the time he did leave for work.

The evenings were also a pleasure. He quickly discovered that he did enjoy taking the girls out for dinner, theater, museums, and anywhere else they might want to go. But, Tuesday nights the girls would not go out because they just had to watch American Idol, followed by a taping of America's Top Model, and sometimes Bobbie Jo wanted to just stay home to read. Even when they were watching TV she was reading a book (with the exception of during America's Top Model). His credit cards were taking quite a hit with all the dinners, theater, and other events he was hosting for them, as he always insisted on paying for everything. But, the girls' company was well worth the price.

Spending all that money was also helpful in assuaging his feelings of guilt over getting peeks at their young bodies. The girls though suggested that he was doing all of that because of the family feud, because the Hendersons got all the money. The girls made it clear that they couldn't care less about the money. Heck, if it hadn't turned out this way they wouldn't have had a rich uncle in the big city with whom they could shack up for a few days!

The last couple of hours of each evening were also a delight, if not a pressure, as the girls liked to get into their night clothes and munch popcorn while watching television, which usually meant staying up late enough to see reruns of The Girls Next Door, Pretty Wicked, SCAASI Jewelry, Real Housewives, or Chelsea Lately. Betty Jo or Billie Jo might even snuggle with him on the couch. Snuggling with their uncle apparently was very special for them (on the fourth day of their visit Paul stopped off at a clothing store to purchase more jockey briefs).

Bobbie Jo though would curl up instead with a book, putting on her spectacles (which she was a bit self-conscious about), reading by the light of a lamp on an end table by the couch as her sisters were engrossed with the television, and their uncle.

The sisters would snuggle up tightly against him, resting a head on his shoulder, pressing a breast against his arm. Billie Jo would even rest her head in his lap. That was very, very difficult, feeling Betty Jo's breast against his arm and Billie Jo's hands lightly resting on his thigh. He quickly developed an erection and hoped dearly that his jockey briefs would be successful in hiding it.

He believed his briefs must be successful as Billie Jo never seemed to let on that she noticed its presence. She did though at times squirm her head around in his lap, trying to find a more comfortable position, eventually resting a check right on the knob

He offered her a pillow, suggesting that would be a bit more comfortable, and appropriate. But, she said she didn't mind. She did though once turn her pretty face up to him to briefly complain, "Seems to me you could use a purse, Uncle Paul, for all the big, lumpy things you keep stuffed down in her pockets."

Paul's heart skipped a beat, wondering if one her sisters understood the problem even if their oldest sister was apparently entirely naive. But nobody intimated that they knew what that lump was all about.

The girls even teased him in the second week of their visit, calling him into their room after they had gone to bed, asking him to tuck them in for the night, just like he had done when they were little.

"Please Uncle Paul!" They all called out from their bedroom.

"Hush now!" He called out from the living room. "You girls get to sleep now. I have to go to work tomorrow." It all reminded him of the times he had babysat the girls. He didn't have to go to work then but they were often so difficult to get to bed, and to sleep.

"Please, please, please!"

He smiled. He knew they were just playing around. He could hear them giggling through the door. And it was rather cute. He was indeed tempted to actually tuck them in, and not just because he was curious as to how they would look all snuggled up in bed. It was actually rather playfully innocent fun. But, it was his rather licentious curiosity that made him hesitate, and not just because he feeling guilty over his thoughts. He was also worried that his prurient interest might be rather apparent, given his swelling. Still, it wasn't terribly evident. His briefs were quite tight as his plain black PJ bottoms were very loose.

He took a deep breath, opened the door, and stuck his head in. He smiled. The girls looked so cute lying there in the same bed together. He was indeed reminded of the times he visited the Bodines so many years ago. Time seems to go by so fast, too fast really. He couldn't rightly tell if they were cuter then or now. They were clearly so grown up but the resemblance to the days long gone was quite clear, at least at this particular moment.

He tried to provide the three girls with a very stern expression. "Now you young ladies quiet down or I just might..." He didn't finish his sentence.

"You might just what, Uncle Paul?" Billie Jo asked, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Y'all gonna' give us a whuppin?" Bobbie Jo asked, a comparable grin on her face.

Betty Jo began kicking her feet beneath the covers, which she pulled all the way to her nose, peeking out from beneath the blankets, trying desperately not to giggle.

Paul was indeed sorely tempted. These girls did not appreciate how much fun that would in fact be for him. He imagined having all three of them get on all knees and elbows, poking their luscious taut bottoms out over the edge of the bed, then providing each of them with the spanking they deserved for keeping him up so late. Perhaps he could even pull their panties down. His cock swelled mightily at the thought of doing that.

"Just won'tcha' please tuck us in, Uncle Paul?" Bobbie Jo. "It'll just be like ole times."

"We'll then go right to sleep, we promise," Betty Jo added.

"Yes, we promise to be good, Uncle Paul," Billie Jo reassured him, removing an excuse for any possible spanking but that had been a rather over-the-top and inappropriate fantasy in any case. Even if he had done it (which he most assuredly could not) he would probably have lived to regret it. Nothing good would really come from allowing himself to be driven by one of his more perverse fantasies.

Paul sighed and stepped into the room. He might as well just tuck them in. He glanced briefly down as he made his way to Bobbie Jo, who was lying on the far left side of the bed. He couldn't see much of any bulge as glanced down and it didn't appear that the girls were noticing anything. His legs though did feel a bit unsteady as he proceeded to her prone body. He kept telling himself that it was all very innocently playful fun. It was only his more base fantasies that degraded the paternal, affectionate act into something more shameful.

He leaned over and pulled up the blankets so they fit neatly just at her lily white neck, and then tucked the covers a bit under the mattress. He reached over and gently removed her glasses from her face. "Now, don't let me catch you reading with the light on, Bobbie Jo. You get right to sleep now." Bobbie Jo giggled. She did have a reputation for staying up late reading, although her sisters wouldn't rightly let her do that.

"And," Paul added, as he made his way around the bed to the other side, "I don't want you kicking and squirming all night long, Betty Jo. You mind yourself and let your sisters sleep."

"Yes, Uncle Paul," Betty Jo answered, giving him a little pout. She so hated having to sleep in the middle.

When he got to Billie Jo she sat up a bit. "How about a good night kiss, Uncle Paul." The blankets and sheets fell from her chest, exposing to his view her full, soft, white breasts which were not that well hidden beneath her baby doll top.

Paul hesitated a bit, momentarily blinded by the sight.

"Billie Jo!" Bobbie Jo protested. Billie Jo was such a flirt, and it so annoyed her youngest sister. The boys were always most interested in Billie Jo, ignoring her entirely. Her mother though said it was all her own fault as she so often acted more like a boy than a girl. Still, it was not very fair to get Uncle Paul's attention by showing him her boobies like that all the time. She knew darned well that their mother, and father, would not approve of such a thing.

Paul tried to pretend like he hadn't noticed and leaned over to provide the oldest of the three a kiss goodnight on the forehead.

Billie Jo looked disappointed. "Ain'tcha gonna kiss me on the lips, Uncle Paul?"

He looked back down at her. She was so darned pretty. Somehow a kiss on the lips right now just didn't seemed right. He ignored her request and tucked her in as well.

He stepped back and admired his effort. Gracious these girls were a pretty sight! They looked so awfully cute lined up in the bed, their pretty heads comfortably sunk into their pillows, their brunette, red, and blonde hair providing such pretty color, their eyes twinkling with gay flirtation, their breasts making six wonderful little hills stretching across the bed. Their breasts didn't do that when they were youngsters. His cock swelled within his briefs and PJ bottoms. It was time to make his exit.

He made his way to the bedroom door. "Now you girls get right to sleep."

"You won't read us a bedtime story?" Betty Jo asked.

"Oh yes, please do!" Bobbie Jo added.

Paul just shook his head. He had done that for them when they were little, particularly for Betty Jo. But he knew they were just kidding. "If you girls behave yourselves maybe I will, but not tonight." He looked back at them as he reached for the light switch. "Now off to sleep now." He turned off the light and departed.

"Goodnight, Uncle Paul!" They all called out to him. "Don't let the bed bugs bite!" Billie Jo added.

"Sweet dreams," he replied as he quietly shut the door.

Paul did wonder if perhaps he should stop admiring and fondling their frilly unmentionables in the bathroom. Perhaps he should also avoid stealing glances as each of them had their breakfast, and taking peeks up their towels while they did their nails. After all, they were his nieces. He recalled how cute they were even as little girls, albeit he certainly had never thought about them in the way he was doing now. Was it wrong to have those feelings now, with them all grown up as young ladies? Perhaps it was, but enjoying the sight was just so difficult to resist. After all, it was just innocent peeks and glances. But, it became a bit more so into the third week.

Billie Jo said that she wasn't feeling so well and wouldn't join them for the evening. Bobbie Jo and Betty Jo wanted to see "My life in ruins." But, Billie Jo asked Paul to stay home with her, as she wanted the company. She didn't like being home alone when she wasn't feeling well.

Paul had read the reviews of the movie the other two girls wanted to see. Not only was it a chick flick, it didn't seem to be a particularly good one.

Paul decided to stay home with Billie Jo. He gave her sisters enough money to see the movie and have some snacks.

They tried hard to decline the funding. He had spent so much money already.

But, Paul wouldn't hear of it. He felt bad about them having to be on their own in the big city. He was at least glad that the movie was playing in a neighborhood theater, within walking distance from his condo. He warned them not to talk to strangers. It seemed a bit silly to do so, but these girls were so gosh darned friendly to everyone they met!

Billie Jo was very grateful that he was staying with her. But, as soon as the girls left she announced that she was going to take a long bath. She said a bath always made her feel better.

Paul was a bit surprised at that, as he could hardly keep her company if she was taking a bath.

He considered picking up a book to read, and then recalled that he pretty much had gotten rid of all his books. He did, at one time, have a few books. But, he found that he just never read them and the book shelves were so much more useful for storing DVD's, CD's, computer games, and the occasional VHS. He eventually just got rid of most, if not all, of his books, as they were only taking up useful space.

He considered Betty Jo's books. There was a stack of them on the end table by the couch. But, he quickly found that they didn't really interest him. One was "Beautiful Brows: The Ultimate Guide to Styling, Shaping, and Maintaining Your Eyebrows." Weird. He never paid any attention whatsoever to his eyebrows, let alone consider reading a book about them. Not all of the books though were concerned with make-up. There was a novel ("Steel Magnolias;" it looked like a chick book), a book on measuring and modeling ozone exposure (that surely must be boring), and a book on plants for southern gardens. He went back to the book on eyebrows. It did at least have pictures of pretty eyes.

After awhile he heard, "Uncle Paul!" Billie Jo called out for him from the bathroom. "Could you be a sweetheart and fetch me some lemon grass herbal tea?!"

He was happy to do that. He felt he should at least do something for the girl. Plus, frankly, the book was really quite boring.

When it was ready he came through the girls' bedroom to get to the bathroom. That was the shortest route from the kitchen. He was struck by how messy they kept the room. There were clothes and magazines strewn everywhere, along with even more beauty products covering the dresser and any other open table space. He shook his head in wonder as he carefully stepped over the clothes. He lightly tapped on the bathroom door.

"It's unlocked!" Billie Jo called out from inside the bathroom. "Bring it in."

Paul opened the door, intending on just laying the tea on the counter without fully entering the room. He was instantly struck by how the air in the bathroom was so misty and scented. It seemed to be some sort of lavender. Perhaps it was the soap crystals but he also noted a couple of scented candles.

"Here, I'm in the tub. Could you bring it to me?"

He could indeed do that, and wondered why he was even hesitating in doing so. This would provide a much more enticing voyeuristic opportunity than simply peeking up a towel. But, perhaps because she was sick he didn't feel so good about it. It was one thing to ogle her breasts when she so brazenly displayed them beneath a sheer nightie. It was another to take advantage of a niece who wasn't feeling well, who was only asking him for a cup of tea to help make her feel better. This was hardly the time to be admiring a niece's breasts, when she was feeling so vulnerable, so needy, so dependent.

But, once he turned to look at Billie Jo he could see that she was largely hidden from view. She had made a rather large bubble bath. All that was in sight were her head and hands. Her arms and breasts did appear to be above the water line, but they were well covered by a vast expanse of soap bubbles. He breathed in deeply the lavender scent and the lovingly enticing sight of his niece.

He averted his eyes though as he approached the tub. He couldn't really see much, but he wanted to make sure that she knew he fully intended to respect her privacy.

"Don't be so silly, Paul. You can't see anything anyway. Come on, sit next to me. I don't like being alone."

Paul carefully laid the cup of tea on the edge of the bathtub. He considered sitting on the toilet, but that seemed rather odd, as well as rather distant and unfriendly. He sat down on the edge of the tub, as she had requested, and quickly felt some moisture soaking through his slacks and briefs. He averted his eyes as she reached for the tea, as the movement caused her breasts to wiggle, shaking off some suds.

She smiled up at him from the bubbles. "Mercy me, Paul, you don't have to look away. I don't mind."

"Excuse me?"

"My bosoms. I don't mind if you look at 'em."

She had seemed to make that very clear most every morning and evening. "Yes, well, I'm not so sure that your parents would approve, nor," he added, "would mine."

"Paul! How old are you? Are you still a little boy?" She took a sip of tea. "Mmmmm, nice tea. I sure like lemon grass tea." She continued her speech. "My gracious, you're more than twice as old as me, and as I recall I'm twenty years old. Do y'all still do what yer parents tell you to do?"

"No, no, but, really, um, I was meaning to suggest. Well..." He didn't finish his sentence.