|Young, in the Woods
by IndianAsian ©
was split into 3 parts. Jump to any of the segments from here:
When you own a cottage, particularly if it's a good cottage, you come to expect friends and family to invite themselves over from time to time.
I have a pretty good cottage up on an island filled lake in Northern New York. It's got three bedrooms, a dock, a small beach, and a terrific view of the lake. It's hard to find, and kind of isolated, but I love it so much that I just can never seem to keep from bragging.
So, from time to time, I give in to less than gentle hints, and let various people come up with me when my wife or kids don't want to come.
Some weeks ago my brother Steve, his wife Beth, and their daughter Sandra came up for the weekend. I hadn't seen a lot of Sandra. When I went to my brother's she was usually somewhere else.
When she stepped out of the cottage with her parents I hardly noticed her. Oh, I was nice to her, of course. She was my niece, after all. What I mean is, I didn't NOTICE her.
She was wearing a loose sweatshirt and jeans. She was a blonde, her hair almost always tied into a thick tail that went halfway down her back. I didn't pay her much notice.
My first sight of her in a bathing suit was a surprise. The bathing suit wasn't very revealing. It was a one piece, and kind of conservative, but it did hug her body like any bathing suit, revealing the narrow waist, the flared hips, the round behind, and a surprisingly firm, full chest.
I only gave her glancing notice, though. After all, she was a kid, and my brother's kid at that. Besides, she mostly went off on her own, either in the canoe, paddling among the islands, or exploring the woods.
There were a few other cabins along the lake that she could reach on foot or by canoe, and she talked about someone or other, some girl she'd met at one of them. She even brought her over Sunday, a pretty brunette.
Since I was on vacation, I didn't have to go home on Sunday night like my brother. I was going to stay through next weekend, when I'd go back to the city and pick up my wife and kids.
Sandra asked to stay until next weekend, saying she was having a lot of fun with this other girl. Her parents were doubtful, but I was feeling magnanimous and agreed. We waved goodbye to them Sunday, and Sandra disappeared while I read a book in the late afternoon sun.
She came back surprisingly early, and when I asked why, said the other girl, I forget her name, had gone home with her parents. That surprised me.
"I thought you wanted to stay so you could play with her," I said.
"Uncle Paul!" she cried, in protest. "I do not PLAY!"
"Sorry," I said, rolling my eyes.
"I'm not a child, you know."
"No, of course not," I grinned.
"I stayed because I love this place. It's so beautiful. I love getting up early and hearing the sound of the birds, smelling the new day. I love paddling over to the islands and exploring."
"I do too," I said.
The cabin was too isolated to have electricity. It had a wood burning stove, and a small fridge powered by gas. The lights came from lanterns, and there was no heat except from the stove or the fireplace.
It was warm at night, though, so it didn't really surprise me when Sandra changed into a nightshirt long before bed. I have a teenage daughter of my own, after all, and she tended to wander around the house dressed in one of those things too.
But Sandra wasn't my daughter, and the thin little nightshirt she wore was kind of...tight, and short, compared to the ones my daughter wore. I couldn't help noticing her long coltish legs, or the small indentations of her nipple pushing against the thin cotton fabric.
But I was conscious of her age, and that she was my niece, and didn't pay much attention.
Several times, though, when she moved or shifted on the couch while reading, my eyes were drawn to those legs. And once, when she got up and went to a cupboard, she had to stand on her toes and kind of bend forward to reach something, and the hem of the nightshirt pulled up enough that I caught a brief glimpse of blonde pussy.
I was a little shocked at that, though now that I thought of it my wife often didn't wear panties under her nightshirt either. I quickly turned my eyes away. The last thing I wanted was for her to tell my brother I was peeping at her.
The next morning I got my next surprise. She put on a bathing suit, but not the one piece conservative number she'd worn on the weekend. This was a string bikini, the cups narrow triangles that exposed the creamy upper curves of her breasts. The bottom was very narrow, high cut, exposing her thighs and hips, and it didn't cover all of her buttocks.
"What happened to the black suit?" I asked in surprise.
"I wore that for two whole days," she said as if in surprise. "You don't expect me to wear the same suit forever do you?"
"I guess not," I said. "It's a bit...small, isn't it?"
"Uncle Paul!" she protested. "Don't be an old fogey. This is what's in."
"If you say so," I said.
Who could understand women? One suit was plenty good for most guys. Women, though, needed half a dozen. I tried not to look anywhere I shouldn't, reminded myself of her age, and that she was my niece, and went fishing.
When I got back she was laying on the sand, all spread out, skin glistening with suntan oil. I said hi. She said hi, and I took my fish inside.
All day she seemed to find some reason to be around me, and a number of times she bent over, either towards me, or away from me. It happened too often to be accidental, but I still didn't think much of it. I figured she was just another teenager having fun by turning guys on. It was something they all did at her age.
That evening she wore the same tight, short nightshirt, and even playfully sat on my lap once. I began to think she was carrying this teasing business to extremes.
The next day was a different suit. The top was even smaller than the on she'd worn previously, and the bottom was one of those thong things. Now I loved looking at pretty girls in thongs, seeing their round asses, but this was my niece.
I didn't comment, though, and tried to keep telling myself that I had no business looking at her. I spent a lot of time fishing that day.
When I got home she was laying out in the sun again, but this time she was topless. It was impossible not to say something.
"Sandra, where's your top?" I demanded, trying to sound stern.
"Oh! I'm sorry, Uncle Paul. I didn't think you'd be back this soon."
"I'm back late. Anyway, there are other people around here, other cabins."
"But they're mostly empty except on weekends."
"Put your top on," I ordered.
She obeyed as I walked quickly up to the cabin. I felt my cock hardening in my pants, and fought to turn my mind to other things. She had one hell of a body. She was small, but man what curves! She had a helluva good set of tits, too.
No, no, no. I couldn't think of that!
I did my best to stay away from her, and to keep my eyes and mind off her. She stayed in that damn bikini until evening, when she changed into, not the nightshirt, but a pair of cotton, string bikini panties, and a tank top.
Again, it was hard to criticize her, to say anything to her. My own daughter had worn such things around the house.
But she wasn't my daughter.
I didn't say anything, and pretended to ignore her as she made herself a snack, then sat down on the sofa. The tank top was tight across her chest, and when she turned to one side, she raised her arm to run a hand through her head, and the armhole of the tank top exposed much of the side of her tit.
I took a deep breath and looked away, then looked back again, this time focusing my attention on her face. It was flushed, a little red, anxious looking. She never looked at me, but licked her lips and swallowed often. She was breathing harder than she should be, and the way her nipples were pressing against the tank top they were obviously fully erect.
This was more than just casual flirting, more than just cock teasing. She was really getting off on this. And damn it, so was I!
I had a hard-on, and had to keep the book I was reading low so she wouldn't notice it. I wanted to strip her and shove my cock into her pussy. I wondered if she were a virgin, wondered if she would tell her father what I did if I fucked her.
I wanted her bad. I didn't care that she was my niece any more. All I cared about was whether I could get away with it, whether I could fuck her brains out and not wind up in jail and divorced.
I couldn't just grab her.
But I could play the game back at her.
When she got up and went into the kitchen, I waited a few moments and followed. She was making cocoa.
"Well, that's just what I was looking for," I said.
"I could make you some," she said, face still flushed.
"Sure. Would you?"
I grabbed a cup and went over to her, standing behind her. My cock had settled down some, and was only semi-hard now. I leaned over her as she made cocoa for me, then when she'd finished stirring I leaned over to pick it up, casually pressing myself into her ass, giving it just a little grinding motion before picking up the cup and walking away.
My cock was rock hard by the time I passed out of the kitchen. Kitchen. The kitchen was just a part of the cabin where the sink and wood stove and cupboards were. There were no walls separating it from the living room.
I sat down, making sure to cover my cock. She was still in the kitchen, her back turned to me. The back of her neck was red. It took her quite a while to make her cocoa and come away from the counter. Then she sat down at the table in front of the picture window, and not at the sofa.
After a few minutes wait for my cock to soften, I got up and walked over to the table myself, then sat down too. I talked to her casually about the lake and islands, asking her if she'd seen the river at the north end of the lake.
She didn't look up, except for quick, darting glances, and her face remained flushed. She said she was going to bed, and I nodded, saying I was going soon too. I kind of pushed my chair back and around from the table as she got up, and when she passed I caught her wrist and pulled her onto my lap, laughing like it was just a friendly kind of thing.
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|Another Quality Story by IndianAsian.|
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