Living with My Nieces

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Paul was so tired by the last week of the girls' visit. It was getting to the end and a part of him looked forward to a full night's sleep. He would, of course, miss them, perhaps Billie Jo and Betty Jo in particular, but he really shouldn't favor or disfavor one niece over another.

He was at least relieved that no repercussions from his indiscretions had occurred. Billie Jo continued to act flirtatious but that was hardly new. Betty Jo just kept giggling and doing curious gymnastic moves, much to the annoyance and confusion of her sisters.

Perhaps Bobbie Jo was getting tired as well. "I reckon I'll stay in tonight, and enjoy a nice book." Or, perhaps she was just fully absorbed in another text. The sisters were so very similar in some respects, but very different in others. Physically, the most obvious similarities were that they were all so pretty, with very nicely prominent breasts (Billie Jo's though did appear to be a bit larger than her sisters'). Plus, of course, Bobbie Jo had auburn hair, Billie Jo blonde, and Betty Jo brunette.

Emotionally, they were also very similar. They all had such vivacious, outgoing, cheerful, and engaging personalities. They never seemed to have a negative thing to say about anything or anyone (except perhaps each other; sisters can at times be a bit jealous and competitive), and they were always willing to lend a helping hand.

But, there were also differences, psychologically. Billie Jo was the flirt, Betty Jo was the tomboy, and Bobbie Jo was the scholar. She never seemed to meet a book she didn't like.

But, apparently she had gone through her entire set of books that she had brought with her. In contrast, it had been quite some time since Paul had even finished a book. "Do you have anything interesting to read, Uncle Paul?"

"Excuse me?"

The idea suddenly inspired Bobbie Jo. She would be quite curious as to the books that her uncle enjoyed. How much better to get to know someone than to consider his library! Was he into history? Maybe science? Or, perhaps he was a man of the arts, or fine literature? He did enjoy going to museums and the theater. Of course, perhaps he was just a reader of beach material, but even then it would be interesting to know what kind. It could be mysteries, romance (not likely), or horror. Bobbie Jo did like horror stories. She particularly liked the vampire books by Anne Rice who, she was surprised to learn, also wrote very naughty books about Sleeping Beauty (all about spanking and humiliation). She was even more surprised to discover that the audiocassette version of Beauty's Release was read by Elizabeth Montgomery. Of course, that was perhaps appropriate, given that Elizabeth Montgomery had herself been a witch.

Bobbie Jo looked around Paul's apartment for something to read, but only to discover, much to her amazement, he didn't seem to have any books at all! She could not find a single one! "There ain't none to be found," she complained.

"You can't find any?" He was actually surprised. He got rid of his books but he figured there had to be at least one somewhere in his apartment. He didn't have a single one? He thought he would have at least a few, somewhere.

When he did read he would typically do so before he went to sleep. It helped to calm him down, make it easier to doze off. Life in the big city was at times quite stressful. But, he found that he didn't retain the next day much of what he had read the night before, at least the last few pages, and he never got that far anyway before he started falling asleep. In any case, a few of those books might still be around. He suggested, "Why don't you try the bedroom?"

Bobby Jo went to his bedroom. That idea appealed to her, as you can also tell a lot about a person from his, or her, bedroom. After all, it was the most personal, private room of the house. You should never though go into someone's bedroom when you're visiting. That room was strictly off limits. It was just too personal. Yet, here she was, standing in the middle of Uncle Paul's private sanctuary.

She was immediately impressed with how messy the room was, but that was perhaps understandable. He was a guy, and a bachelor at that. And, she noticed there was again, no books. That was disappointing. She did though look around more carefully. Perhaps there was one tucked away somewhere. She opened up a drawer of his dresser: boxers. So, Uncle Paul was a boxer man. She did like that, but she was surprised to see a new package of briefs. That was a little odd.

She went over to the night stand. That would be where he would keep his bedside reading. She opened the drawer. A book! Finally, a book. With considerable glee she picked it up.

It was a simple and fairly brief paperback: "The Lessons," by Charles Petersunn. She had never heard of that author before. It was probably some sort of academic book, which was definitely suggested by the book jacket. On the cover was a picture of a school's emblem: a stack of textbooks, with a black tie on the left and black Mary Janes on the right, above which was the motto, "Dream, Challenge, Succeed." On the back of the jacket it read that Mr. Petersunn was a leading expert on the New School method of pedagogical discipline.

Boring! How in the heck could Uncle Paul be reading something as tedious as this? Bobbie Jo was again disappointed.

But, it was the only book she could find. She decided to at least browse through it a bit, but without much expectation or hope.

She quickly discovered that it was not really an academic text. It was a dirty book! It was downright pornography! She blushed and giggled at the realization. Well, this was a very interesting turn of events. She scampered out of the bedroom, book in hand.

She marched proudly up to her uncle, waving the book.

"Oh good, excellent, you found something, Bobbie Jo," Paul smiled as he watched Bobbie Jo prance up to him with glee at her discovery. "Good, I'm glad. What is it?"

"I was thinking, Uncle Paul, perhaps we could read it together, this evening. I would really enjoy that."

Now that sounded like a painfully boring evening. He would most assuredly fall asleep on the couch. Billie Jo and Betty Jo though were not planning on anything that particularly interesting themselves. They wanted to tour all of the monuments in the city. They had told Papa Bodine that they would most certainly do that and time was now running out. It was one tour that did not interest Paul. However, it could very well be preferable to reading a book. "You know, I don't know. The girls were really counting on me joining them on the tour."

"We don't mind, Uncle Paul," Billie Jo offered. "If you want to read a book with Bobbie Jo, that'll be right fine with us. We'll make out. We got Uncle Carson's truck."

"It's a wonderful book, Uncle Paul," Bobbie Jo suggested, " 'The Lessons,' by Charles Petersunn."

"What?!" Paul immediately recognized the title, if not the author.

Billie Jo asked, "Uncle Paul, what's wrong? You look as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full o' rockin chairs."

Paul ignored her, but regained his composure.

"Lessons in what?" Betty Jo asked.

"Pedagogy," Bobbie Jo explained, sort of.

"Um, yes, well, perhaps we could find a different book," Paul suggested. "That one is pretty boring."

"Boring," Betty Jo affirmed, "gracious, that sounds so dull it wouldn't cut hot butter with a knife!"

"No, no, I want to read this one. I've already glanced through it. It's got some real interestin' chapters."

Paul gave Bobbie Jo a stern yet also scared stare. He wanted to convey how important it was to him for her to keep the existence of this book to herself. What could be more embarrassing than to have family, particularly female family, and young nieces at that, find one of your dirty books.

Bobbie Jo just smiled, not conveying any particular willingness to do anything. But, she did say, "I would be right grateful, Uncle Paul, if you would hanker to read it with me."

He would agree to read the dictionary with her if she was willing to keep his "bedside reading" confidential. "Yes, yes. I'd love too, absolutely."

Billie Jo shook her head. "You must really hate monuments."

He just smiled. He had avoided a very significant embarrassment.

When he shut the door behind Billie Jo and Betty Jo, he instantly turned to Bobbie Jo. "What the heck were you doing in my bedroom!"

She looked all surprised at his irritation. "I was gettin' a book, just like you told me to."

He had indeed done that. "Yes, but I didn't tell you to go snooping around in my drawers."

"Uncle Paul, I wouldn't be lookin' in there!"

Paul became more exasperated. "You know what I mean."

Bobbie Jo just giggled. "Well, I didn't see any books out in the open. I s'pect you had 'em somewhere."

She was making a good point and now that it was done there was nothing really to do, other than to minimize the damage. "Well, I do thank you, Bobbie Jo, for not telling your sisters. It's a little embarrassing."

"Well, lets just set down and get to readin'!"

"What? That? Are you nuts?"

"There's nuthin' else to read."

"Bobbie Jo, really, I don't think you appreciate what's in that book."

"Uncle Paul, I'm nineteen years old. It's not like I haven't seen nothin' like that before."

"Yes, well, you can purchase your own. Now, let me have the book."

"But, I want to see what kind of books you like. It's really a most wonderful way to get to know someone, and I feel I don't rightly know my uncle no more."

"Bobbie Jo, that sort of reading is generally done by oneself, alone...privately."

Bobbie Jo giggled at the thought of her uncle reading a dirty book, his hand working on his penis beneath the sheets. "If you don't read it with me then I reckon I'll just have to read it all by my lonesome...."

He could live with that.

"And then share with my sisters the whole story this evenin'. I think they will find it very, very interestin'."

He couldn't live with that. These nieces were really turning out to be quite the scamps. What else could he really do now? "Alright then, okay. Let's um...well, read it...together."

"Wonderful!" Bobbie Jo clutched the book to her breasts, turned and headed to the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Paul asked, his eyes fixed on her swaying bottom beneath her short jean skirt.

Bobbie Jo stopped and looked back over her shoulder. "Why, yer bedroom, of course."

"You want to read it in there?"

"It's a bedside book, ain't it? That's where you usually read such things, don'tcha?"

"Yes, but not with someone else, not with you, not this time." He was putting his foot down.

Bobbie Jo was disappointed but she could see that he was unlikely to budge on this point. "Well, a'right," she replied and sashayed over to the couch, her short skirt swinging with her hips. She plopped down, the skirt rising up high on her white, soft thighs. She patted the seat next to her. "This is purt near just as good."

Paul reluctantly made his way to the couch, feeling that he was walking into some potentially serious trouble.

"Now don't go lookin' like you been suckin' on some sow!"

"What?"

"This'll be right fun, you'll see." She smiled gaily at him as he took his seat beside her. "You know, I always enjoyed you readin' a story to me, and now I get to return the favor and read a story to my Uncle Paul!"

"Yeah, right," he glumly replied. This was going to be so embarrassing.

"Now, where to begin," she asked as she opened up the book.

"I suppose the beginning is a good place to start," he suggested, with some sarcasm, and considerable apprehension. It's bad enough to have a family member find one of your dirty books, imagine having her read it out loud, right next to you. He was reminded of his mother a long time ago, shaming him about a dirty magazine, holding open page after page, asking him if this was the sort of thing he really wanted to look at (of course he did, but he could hardly admit that to her).

"Somehow I reckon this sort of book just takes off no matter where you start," but she agreed to begin at the beginning. "Well, let's see, Chapter One, 'Mr. Peters teaches Sara a lesson.'"

She proceeded to read the story. She was a bit surprised that it didn't just start in with some sex. She figured most pornography probably did that. She had a boyfriend rent some adult movies once and she didn't like them. It was just one close-up of sex parts after another. Kind of gross, at least that was how she felt about it. They didn't even tell you who the people were, and when it was some interesting character, like a school teacher, or a nurse, or a librarian, she invariably spoke like some sort of cheap skank. But, wasn't it all a matter of personal taste? It's not like everyone likes to do sex the same way, is it? Could be the same way with movies and stories. She read on.

"Oh my goodness!" Bobbie Jo eventually exclaimed. "He's going to spank her right in front of the class?"

"Yes, yes, I suppose he is," Paul quietly acknowledged.

"Gracious, who would do such a thing?" At least in the Anne Rice novels it was more realistic. Well, actually, maybe not. "Nothing like that would happen in Pixley, I'm tellin' you. Did this happen when you were in college?"

"No, no, I can't say it did." Paul went to Cornell. "Your folks never give you a spanking?"

Bobbie Jo's face flushed. "Well, yeah, sure, when I was a young sprite, but golly I c'aint recall when was the last time." She continued to read, clearly becoming rather interested in the story the farther she read.

Paul could not recall the last time he had ever had anyone read a book to him. He used to listen to audiobooks, when he jogged or worked out. But, this was clearly quite different, particularly as this was a dirty book. He crossed his legs and let a hand rest casually within his lap. He did really like this book, and it was especially nice to hear a pretty girl reading it out loud. They should really sell erotic novels this way! That might in fact be a darned good way to make a lot of money.

"Oh my gosh!" Bobbie Jo again exclaimed, "He's going to let all them classmates see her panties?! Uncle Paul, that would be so shameful!" Bobbie Jo's faced again flushed with embarrassment, and excitement, just thinking about it. She leaned into her uncle's shoulder and read further.

Bobbie Jo became further discomfitted when she got to the part about Sara's different panties. It was a little awkward reading out loud about panties to her uncle, but then she came to the part where the boys were having difficulty hiding their erections. That put the shoe on the other foot and she looked down into the lap of her uncle, noticing how his legs were crossed and a hand was resting on a very pertinent location.

She looked up at him through her spectacles with her pretty brown eyes and asked, "Have you ever spanked a girl, Uncle Paul?" Bobbie Jo had the prettiest eyes of all three girls; so large, so round. The fact that she wore glasses did not diminish their appeal at all. On the contrary, her spectacles were endearing.

"Bobbie Jo!" Paul complained. That seemed like a rather personal question to ask one's uncle.

"Well you asked me if I been spanked. Why can't I ask you the same thing?"

A very good point, although it wasn't quite the same thing. Paul answered, "Well, actually, no, no, I haven't." It was easier to admit that he hadn't than to admit that he had, and it was also true.

Bobbie Jo asked quietly, "Have ya wanted to?"

"Bobbie Jo, please. This is a little embarrassing."

"Hey, I'm the one readin' the book!"

He felt like pointing out that it was his book, and her choice to read it. But he knew there was no point arguing with the girl. "I suppose I have...wanted to." How could he possibly deny it? He was the one with the book. It wasn't an accident that it was the one he kept in a drawer by his bed. Fortunately Bobbie Jo hadn't discovered the larger stash hidden within his closet.

"City girls won't let guys give 'em a spankin'?"

It was Paul's turn for his face to redden. How do you talk about something like this with your niece, and a very pretty minx at that. It was really very awkward. It should be that family members have no secrets from one another, that one can tell a family member most anything. If you can't talk to one's family, who can you talk to? "Well, I imagine some city girls would but, well, frankly, I've never asked a girl...to let me, do that."

"Well, why not? You kind of shy or somethin'?"

Paul nervously laughed. "No, no, I don't think so."

"You should just up and ask 'er. No! Better yet, you should just go right up to 'er and bend 'er right over!" She giggled at the thought of such a thing.

"No, no, I don't really think I should do something like that," but he was thinking of putting Bobbie Jo over his knee. Was that what she was suggesting? His heart raced as he considered it, and then rejected it. He recalled hinting to Nancy at the office that there was this girl he really wanted to date. She told him that he really should just ask the girl straight out. She said women respect assertiveness in a man. So, he asked her. He asked Nancy. Boy, was that rejection awkward.

Bobbie Jo said more quietly, "You think maybe you'd like to spank me?"

Paul's dick instantly swelled to full strength within his slacks. He most certainly would, and perhaps his niece fully deserved it: poking around in his bedroom, rifling through his drawers and almost revealing to her sisters a very personal, private book. But, was she really serious?

Her answer to his silent question was quickly revealed. Keeping her pretty brown eyes trained on his, she slowly crawled across his lap.

Paul leaned back in the couch, raising his arms and hands way out of the way to avoid any inadvertent contact. He didn't stop what she was doing, but he did try to avoid actually touching her.

Bobbie Jo positioned her bottom in the proper location for a spanking, poking right up at Paul's face. "Uncross yer legs, Uncle Paul, so I can get comfy cozy."

He did as she instructed, momentarily forgetting his very stout erection. But, he was quickly reminded of that fact as Bobbie Jo snuggled into his lap. She was either entirely unaware of it or didn't at all mind, as she took some time wiggling and squirming around, trying to get herself perfectly comfortable and well situated, all the while treating his stiff dick to a little massage.

"There we go," Bobbie Jo eventually announced in her cheery girlish voice. She looked back over her shoulder at her uncle, her eyes twinkling beneath her glasses. "Now, you lift up my skirt, Uncle Paul, so you can give yer naughty little niece her whuppin'."

Paul very gingerly took the hem of Bobbie Jo's skirt in his hands, which felt oddly very weak. He felt momentarily paralyzed. But after that moment of doubt passed he gradually lifted up his niece's skirt to rest it over her back, revealing to his eyes Bobbie Jo's very lovely pantied bottom.

"They're not as pretty as Sara's, Uncle Paul. I hope you don't mind."

Paul didn't know why Bobbie Jo would say anything like that. She was wearing very wonderful panties. They were violet with a pink lace trim, and red, pink, yellow, orange, and green hearts scattered all over. Plus, they clung to her curves as snugly as she was tucked into his lap and, to top it off, Bobbie Jo had the perkiest derriere he had ever seen (well, Betty Jo's was probably a wee bit perkier). It was so round, so sweet, so adorable. Could he really spank such a thing?

Bobbie Jo turned her attention back to the book and continued to read, eventually getting to the point of "Smack! 'Ouch! Mr. Peters, that stings now!'" When nothing happened she looked back up into her uncle's eyes, which were still transfixed on the precious derriere of Bobbie Jo. "C'mon, Uncle Paul, yer to spank me now."