Honeyed Pears Ch. 02

"Why have you been acting funny towards me Uncle Peter? You've been ignoring me. What did I do wrong?"

My niece had trapped me in the kitchen and was looking at me with a sad expression, although it was hard to tell if she was just teasing. I glanced at my wife sitting at the breakfast bar but she seemed to be preoccupied with a magazine. Thank god for small mercies.

"I haven't been ignoring you Georgie. I've just been busy with some work stuff," I told her, hoping that she'd drop it. My wife looked up.

"What work stuff? You're talking rubbish Peter. It's obvious you've been avoiding the girl. What's going on?"

Claire had a scarily acute ability to read me after more than twenty years of marriage (when she paid me any attention that is) and this turn of events worried me. I could hardly just come out and say I was feeling guilty for taking advantage of my 18 year old niece, spanking her bottom and then performing cunnilingus on her until we both had an orgasm. I swallowed, felt my face go hot. I no doubt looked as guilty as hell.

Claires eyebrow arched.

"He's probably feeling guilty about what he did to me the other morning Auntie," piped up Georgie. I swallowed again. She could end my marriage and ruin my life right now. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Claire's stare got a great deal sharper.

"Oh?" she said quietly. My insides turned to jelly.

"I slept in too long and he told me off. It's ok uncle, don't feel bad. You were a little harsh but I know I deserved it. I have to learn and I don't mind you teaching me. I just hope you'll do the same again if I need it."

The double meaning hung in the air but it seemed to allay my wife's suspicions at least a little. She looked at me again and then went back to her magazine. I hadn't seen Julie, my mother-in-law, watching from the doorway so I was startled when she spoke up. "You be good to that girl Peter. She's only young. Be careful with her."

I busied myself with pancakes, cursing myself for putting myself in this position, vowing again, as I had each day since that terrible betrayal of my young nieces trust, to keep my pervert hands off her. It was for both of our good.

I managed to avoid too much contact for the rest of the day, keeping my distance and declining any invitations to play with the kids that would put us into close physical contact. I was feeling good about my resolve, until Georgie cornered me again, this time when I was doing some laundry.

"Looking for these?" she asked, holding up a pair of her own panties.

"What?" I croaked. "What do you..."

"Oh come on uncle, I know you've been in my knickers before. I found a pair on the floor, you must have gone through my laundry basket."

I started to deny it, even as my mind went back to that day I had found her used knickers in here, come within an inch of holding them to my nose while I masturbated and shot my load into the gusset.

She moved closer and brought the pair she was holding up to my face.

"Can you smell me on them? They're still warm." She had clearly just taken them off, reaching under her skirt to remove them.

I could indeed smell her girlish aroma, that musky tang of an aroused young nymph. I wanted nothing more than to pull them to my face and inhale her scent, or even better, drop to my knees and worship at the altar of youth between her thighs. God she was so beautiful it befuddled my mind, with her dusky skin and full red lips, her thick, glossy black hair tumbling over her voluptuous ripe breasts. Breasts like dark honeyed pears that I desperately wanted to uncover and taste, sucking those brown nipples, arousing her until her cunt was dribbling it's nectar down her firm athletic thighs. Nectar that would draw me like a bee to its succulent source, the swollen labia, like petals of her virgin flower, waiting to be pollinated.

Oh god.

"Georgie, I..."

Could she see my desperation? My need? My hunger? Or could she only see rejection as I got a grip on myself, remembered that I was the adult in the room, that it would be an abuse of our relationship and her trust. I simply could not, must not, do anything with this longing I had to join with and lose myself in her.

Her eyes hardened.

"You still think I'm a child. I thought you were different, uncle Peter. I thought that you could see me for who I am, not just the little girl you knew when I was young. I'm a grown up now. I can decide for myself what I want."

She left me there in the laundry, my cock wilting from it's hard throbbing to softly leaking into my underwear, my sadness overwhelming.

That night I went to bed with a weary weight in my chest. My wife came shortly after, numbed by another night of drinking with her sister and mother. That's how it was when everyone stayed at ours over the holidays, drinking into the night with tedious stories about the same old shit. My wife was pretty indifferent to me these days, sexually and emotionally, which is I suppose why all I could think about was Georgie. She was young, full of life, full of potential, and she had a softness, an innocence that was such a contrast to my wife. God knows why but she actually liked me and we were attracted to each other.

I couldn't wait until they all left. It was torture, knowing we both wanted it but were unable to do anything about it.

I drifted into sleep. I dreamed of trying to fly, which morphed into a myriad of strange scenes full of bizarre people, until, of course, I was dreaming of her. Georgie. It was her, even though she looked like someone else. We were having a picnic on a river bank, laughing and kissing, until we started making love. I was kissing those delicious breasts, sucking her nipples, then somehow she had her mouth on my cock, sucking me gently, pulling back the foreskin to take the sensitive head into her mouth.... she was smiling at me as she did it, her love shining through her eyes....

and then I was awake, disorientated from my abrupt return to the waking world, confused because I was still half in the dream, Georgies warm mouth still fellating me.....

Then I understood. It was real. I was lying on my side, the blankets pulled off me at my waist and hips, just enough to give her access to my now rigid penis. She was hidden from view in the shadow at the side of the bed, but when I reached down I could feel her thick hair moving under my hand as she bobbed up and down my shaft. She had pulled my foreskin back and I could feel the cold night air on my glands when she pulled her mouth off me to lick the end, the swollen purple tip shiny with her saliva. Then plunging me back into her hot oral orifice, taking me deep into her throat. Jesus, this was my sweet innocent niece, at least I had thought she was, but here she was, sucking me off like a cock-hungry slut. Something in me shifted then. I wanted to grab her head and fuck her mouth, take her forcefully, but I knew I couldn't. It would be over for me if I woke my wife, so I just lay there, trembling and throbbing, scared to move, while she teased my cock, servicing me. She kept it up for a long time, alternating between light tongue licks up and down the shaft, using her teeth on me to gently bite and worry the glands, and then deep plunges down my length, taking me fully into her throat.

It was heaven, and I never wanted it to end, but too soon I felt that moment when my climax started to approach. I twitched, breathed the words "It's coming. I'm going to..." and she quickened the pace. I felt my wife stir next to me and I froze, but the mouth on my cock kept going, while a hand came up to envelope my balls, tugging them gently. Her other fist was tight around the base of my shaft, masturbating me while her lips stretched tightly over my wet knob, lubricated by her drooling tongue, increasing the friction, until with a loud grunt I started to cum into that hot mouth, erupting like a volcano from my anus up through the shaft into her hungry mouth.

She swallowed it all while I spurted in 4 or 5 jets, and kept her mouth on me as I wilted, which felt nice. Then her tongue softly cleaned me.

I assessed my surroundings. My wife seemed to still be asleep. I couldn't hear any sounds in the house. It looked like everything was ok.

"Georgie" I whispered. "Listen..."

She put a finger to my lips to silence me, then patted me gently on the thigh, a kind of goodbye I guess, and crawled to the half-open door. As she rose, briefly silhouetted by the hall light, I came to a horrible realisation.

"Julie? Is that you?"

My wife stirred again next to me. My mother-in-law blew me a kiss from the door, licked her lips and then disappeared down the hall.