My ex-wife grew up in the Seattle area. Most of my family lived halfway across the country, but hers lived within a couple of day's drive of where I lived. When we divorced, she moved to the East Coast to be with her new lover. That was fine, both with me and many of her family members. I got to keep the house -- a nice three bedroom place with a view of Puget Sound and a private back yard.
I liked her brothers and they liked me, even if their sister was a slut who couldn't keep her legs together. We still considered ourselves family. Her oldest brother had three kids and their home was in Spokane. When it came time for the oldest daughter to start college, she was accepted at the University Of Washington in Seattle. She was a natural beauty. With her raven black hair and golden complexion (inherited from her Vietnamese mother), I knew she'd have a lot of college boys drooling over her. So it was with some misgivings that I consented to let her stay with me for at least her freshman year. I told her and her dad that she would be expected to obey my rules or I couldn't take the responsibility. They both agreed.
In a private conversation later with her dad, Frank, he told me whatever I said was to go with Sylvie. He let me know that he and her mother knew that Sylvie was sexually active. They had the enlightened attitude that she was going to do it anyway, so they might as well not make it difficult for her. She was on the pill and knew all about safe sex. One of her going away gifts was going to be a box of condoms.
"Just so you know, Dave," he added, "for when you're drawing up the rules of conduct. She hasn't had too much experience, but I suppose she'll go a little wild over there. We actually want her to get laid -- for the experience and emotional growth -- as long as she doesn't get pregnant or sick." I thanked him for telling me. I'd been wondering how to deal with that aspect of things. This made it a lot easier.
She called at the end of May asking if she could come over and move in earlier than August. She wanted to see about getting work in the area. I said it was fine with me. I hadn't quite finished the list of rules. It wasn't too long a list so far. Especially since I could be open about the sexual stuff. I decided I would prefer for her to have some input on things anyway. I should interject something here. I am a practicing nudist. My ex-wife wasn't fond of the idea, though she didn't mind me spending most of my time at home nude. I only became socially active after our divorce. This was one of the things I needed to discuss with Sylvie.
Sylvie drove up to the house in her little blue pickup on a Sunday morning. The back was packed and covered with a plastic tarp. After big hugs and kisses, I helped her haul her stuff into the house and down the hall to her room. A couple days after Sylvie arrived I decided it was time to discuss the rules. One of the rules was that she was not to drink since she was underage. Whenever she was staying home at night, however, I told her she could have a couple of beers or glasses of wine. Unless she was going to refrain from alcohol, she needed to learn her own limits. So one night, after homemade pizza and over a beer, I laid out my list for her to read and discuss.
The only one she had a reservation about was letting me know where she was whenever she went out. After I pointed out that an emergency could arise at any time, she saw my point. Then I cleared my throat.
"Sylvie, there is something I want you to know. I'm a nudist." I hadn't known what to expect as a reaction from her. She was looking at my face when I said it. Her eyes widened for a second, then crinkled in amusement. She broke out laughing. "What? You can't picture an old man like me running around naked?" She shook her head and regained control.
"No, Uncle Dave. It's just that I was raised that way! In Vietnam, as in Japan, there is a tradition of family nudity. This is great! We always hated that we had to put clothes on whenever you and Aunt Joanne came to visit. If we'd only known!"
"Well, with Joanne, it was still necessary." I explained how things had been. She sympathized with me.
Then she surprised me by whipping off her top, baring her small but nicely shaped breasts. "Might as well get comfortable, then," she said, stripping off her shorts and panties. It was sudden, but it was, after all, what I wanted -- for her to be comfortable with my nudity. So in another minute we were both sitting at the table in our skin. We talked a little bit about my expectations, including her sexuality. I asked her to always allow me to meet her dates, just as she had had to do in high school. Not because I didn't trust her, but because I felt the need to let the guys know that I was interested in her welfare.
I had always loved Syl, and she was very affectionate toward me. I didn't think she knew how physically she affected me sometimes, though. I would push any lewd thoughts away whenever they reared their head in my mind, but it was tough. Especially now that we were naked together so much.
As a social nudist, I didn't find it difficult to refrain from inappropriate behavior when I was with friends and strangers, whether on a beach, at a resort, or at a house party. But at home now, there were just the two of us. Sylvie, even though a legal "adult", still had something of unconscious childhood about her. Laying around watching TV, she would sometimes sprawl out, legs spread so everything was, in effect, on display. Several times I had to make a quick exit on some pretext to let my burgeoning hardon relax. At least I thought she did it unconsciously. For some reason I found the sight of her at a distance more erotic than the times we sat together on towels on the couch cuddled up. Go figure.
I was disabused of that idea one afternoon just before the semester started. It had been hot that day and I had come home and dove directly into the shower. I was rinsing my hair when I heard Sylvie's voice.
"You got room in there for me?" I hadn't considered showering together, but I figured we might as well. So I opened the door and told her to jump in. She was already naked. She kissed my cheek as she entered, her breast pressing against my arm in the process. I felt my dick twitch.
"It was so-o-o hot in the shop today! I'm drenched!" she said as she ducked under the cooling spray. In truth, I caught a whiff of her perspiration -- and of her feminine scent. Another twitch. The scent of a woman always excited me. I tried to send my mind down some other path. She handed me the soap and asked me to wash her back. I began to scrub. When she leaned forward and placed her hands against the tiled wall, her ass jutted out toward me. It was too much. My dick rose like a dowsing rod, pointing straight at her cute little butt. I could only hope she wouldn't turn around before it went down. No such luck. I finished her back and she spun around to rinse off. Her eyes fell to my erection. When she looked up there was a sparkle in her eye.
"Looks like you like washing my back, Dave..." (she had dropped the 'uncle' at my request). Then she boldly reached down and grabbed hold of it. She had soap on her hand and she began to stroke me.
"Syl, I don't know if..." I began. But she just reached up with her free hand and silenced me.
"I've been waiting for you to react. How many times have I laid on the floor and let you look up my cunt?" This was the first time I'd ever heard her use any sexual term. Somehow coming from her mouth -- the mouth of my little niece -- it sounded more erotic than ever. I surrendered. She pulled my head down and kissed me much differently than she'd ever done before. In that instant she became for me, not my young niece, but the woman she actually was. I leaned forward and wrapped her slender body in my arms and held her tightly. My hands dropped to her smooth round ass cheeks to knead and massage. She groaned into my mouth as the kiss went on and on.
She released my dick and placed her hands on my shoulders. Understand, I'm no giant, but Sylvie was small for her age. Her head came to just below my shoulders. So it was no difficult task to catch and hold her up when she hopped up and wrapped her legs around my waist. She giggled mischievously as we stood there, her ass in my hands again, her cunt radiating heat downward, and my cock resting against her crotch.
"Fuck me here -- or at least start here. Please?" Well what kind of a benefactor would I be to deny a simple request? I angled my hips and was rewarded by the feeling of my hard cock sliding along the slick slit she offered me. She helped by matching the undulations so that I began to slip inside that wonderfully hot cunt. Her eyes rolled back before their lids dropped closed. I took one step and rested her back against the wall. I continued to penetrate my niece's cunt in a slow smooth stroke. She was so wet and ready there was no resistance other than the natural tightness of her relatively inexperienced muscles. I stood there feeling that grasp and her feet digging into my ass.
"That feels so...so...ahh! So wonderful!" she whispered into my ear. Her arms held my neck tight and I felt her flexing herself around my cock. This felt wonderful to me, too, but I'm a practical man. I knew the pressure of holding her in the air and the slickness of the tiles was a recipe for disaster. So, after sliding out, then back into her a few times, I suggested we get out of the shower. She agreed.
Without putting her down, without drying, I pushed out of the bathroom and I carried her through the house to the deck. My cock buried to the hilt all the while and not even offering to soften! The evening air in the dusk had cooled and was refreshing on our wet skin. The contrast with the heat we were sharing made it all the better. I sat down on the corner of the picnic table and Sylvie released her scissor hold on my waist. Once her legs were beside me I leaned back and watched her riding me. She smiled, obviously enjoying the position. Over the next half hour she really did ride me: she rocked back and forth bounced up and down and wiggled her hips from side to side. By my count she had four orgasms before I lost my own control and exploded into her. By then her juices had drenched us both, running down over my balls and into the crack of my ass to pool on the cedar of the table. I've never known a woman with such a copious flow. We were once again covered with sweat, despite the night air.
Sweaty or not, it was great feeling her slight weight lying on my chest and hips. My dick, though satisfied, hadn't softened so much it fell out of her. After perhaps ten minutes of this heavenly pose, Sylvie lifted her torso up extending her arms, her hands on either side of my head. There was such admiration and love in her eyes. I felt like some kind of a Sex God as I listened to her compliments: "never before...", "felt like I was stuffed full...", "never came so many times! Seven, Dave! SEVEN!" (so I lost count). Still, in the back of my mind I knew that some, if not much, of her appreciation came from the fact that she was so inexperienced. All of that was with boys her own age. I used to be one of those, so I knew how inept they had been.
Eventually, we rose from the table and padded back inside the house. Another languorous shower. This one with loving caresses, rather than gropes of lust. We dried each other and remained naked as usual. It surprised us that it was already eight o'clock. No wonder my dick felt raw in spite of her lubrication! We had fucked for three hours! That was a record even for me. We also realized we were starved. It was too late to fix the dinner I'd planned, so we just scavenged the refrigerator and made do. While we ate I asked her about her previous sexual experiences. She told me she had mostly given the boys hand jobs. After her parents got her on the pill, she'd had sex with three different boys, the third one a steady boyfriend the last year of school. She estimated that it had been around twelve separate times, all totaled. Mine had been the first 'naked' penis she'd ever had inside her, in spite of the pill.
After sating our bellies, we watched a movie on TV, cuddled up as usual, but with new knowledge and intimacy. We slept together that night and most nights afterward.
Beginning the day after we made love that first time, I did my best to convince her that it couldn't be 'just the two of us' forever. I knew she needed to find her way among her contemporaries. We loved each other, yes, but she needed to socialize with people her age to anchor her in her own part of the world. Eventually she realized I was right. She dated. I dated. Somewhat proprietarily, she insisted on meeting my dates as I did hers.
I had strong misgivings whenever she brought a date in to meet me. I suppose it is only natural that I felt none of them was good enough for her. I know there was both envy and jealousy in the feeling. I never let her know how I felt, just cautioned her to keep her priorities straight. She was there to get a degree, first and foremost. She wasn't stupid. Even though she fucked several of the guys she dated, it never became serious. With few exceptions, she spent her nights at home. I got a vicarious thrill when she related her experiences. She didn't ask for details of mine, just 'whether or not' I'd 'done it'.
Sylvie was my roommate for the entire four years of college. We both were very careful in our relationships with others. Condoms and regular checkups were our rule. The only times we didn't use condoms was with each other. Sylvie gave me her first blowjob. She also awarded me her anal virginity. By the time she graduated, she loved anal sex even more than I, if that is possible! Of course her parents never knew any of this. Or so I thought.
One day last year I once again drove over the Cascade mountains to Spokane. I'd only been there a few times since Sylvie moved in with me. Frank and Nguyen, Syl's mother, were very happy to see me. The air of festivity was due to the fact that in another two days Sylvie was to change her last name to that of her fiancé. It was bittersweet for me, but I'd known from the start this day would come. Greetings, hugs, kisses all around, drinks in hand, storytelling, old jokes, etc. "Remember when Sylvie was seven and she..." the usual family stuff like that. The rehearsal dinner, after dinner drinks and relaxation. The dinner had been held at a local restaurant with a courtyard. A stone wall surrounding the courtyard kept patrons from falling some two hundred feet to the river valley stretched out beautifully below.
I slipped away from the crowd and was enjoying a private moment admiring the view. Suddenly Nguyen materialized beside me in the dimness. "Beautiful, isn't it?" she said quietly. I agreed and let my arm rest across her shoulders. She was shorter than her daughter, and more petite. She hugged an arm around my waist.
"I just wanted to thank you again, Dave, for all you've done for Sylvie. She loves you very much."
"And I love her, Pokey," (I don't know why, but that was what everybody in the family called Nguyen). "The last four years, having her around kept me young. I'm proud of what she's accomplished."
"As are we." Here Pokey hesitated, "But, Dave, there is something more I want to thank you for," a shiver ran down my spine. I felt somehow I knew what was coming. I was right. "I know you instructed Sylvie in sex. She didn't tell me, and I am not asking you to say anything about it. In fact, I do not want to know anything about it. I just knew, from the first time she came home for a visit and told us that you, too, were a nudist. It's a mother-daughter thing. I knew you were having sex with her, and condoned it. Frank doesn't know. I knew you loved her and would not take advantage of her or hurt her. The proof of my confidence in you is right over there." She turned and nodded her head toward the bride-to-be. Sylvie and her fiancé were sitting, heads together and very much in love. I sighed. Nguyen noticed and nodded. "It is difficult, I know. How well I know how it feels for us. I can imagine how it feels for you." She turned again, this time to face me. She hugged me tight and squeezed my waist so hard I thought I'd burst. I hugged her back as best I could. Her eyes were shiny in the light as she looked up and said again quietly, "Thank you." She turned away and walked back to the table. I followed a minute later.
I felt an immense burden lift from me. I hadn't realized it was there. I felt lightheaded. The burden was guilt that I'd repressed and ignored. Just as I reached the table, Sylvie raised her gaze to me. She held out her hand and I went to her. She pulled me down for a peck on the cheek. "I love you, Uncle Dave," she said brightly. I smiled and told her I loved her, too.