Naughty Nubile Niece Ch. 01

"Which was fine. Hell. Even the best team in baseball loses some games, and the Cardinals still won the division that year, so no biggie. And," he added, satisfaction so evident in his voice that Emily couldn't hold back a reciprocal grin, "they swept the Braves three straight in the playoffs when they played.

"But getting out of St. Louis, he just. Would. Not. Shut. Up." Jason leaned back, running his hands through his hair. "I mean, I bought the tickets, I drove him there, I paid for his freaking nachos and soda, and I kept my mouth shut when his garbage jerkface ballteam won the game. You would think he would at least say 'Thank you, Jason.' But no. I'm trying to get out of downtown St. Louis and back into Illinois, which wasn't the easiest thing in the world, and he's yapping on about how great the Braves are and how shitty the Cardinals are and how maybe I should start rooting for a real team and how my favorite players are all crap.

"I asked him three or four times to just drop it. But he was just being a nasty little shit and I lost my temper, and well, I kicked him out of the car."

Emily jerked upright. "What?"

Her uncle looked down. "I pulled over to the side of the interstate and kicked Austin out of the car. Not, like, permanent!" he added quickly, as Emily gave a shout of astonished laughter. "I circled around and picked him back up. But God, Emily. You just have no idea about how annoying that kid could be."

Emily thought back to her last visit with her uncle, at the prison, his arms covered in tattoos and insisting, security footage be damned, that he had been framed and he hadn't been anywhere near Suds and Duds, Marion's only combination liquor store and laundromat, on the night in question. "I can guess."

"Your grandma was pretty ticked off at me, I can tell you that, when Austin told her what happened. Of course," he grinned suddenly, "Austin set fire to the garage about a week later, so it didn't take long for me to get out of the doghouse."

"What was it like?" she asked. "Growing up back then? I've heard some stories from Mom and Aunt Ashley. But nothing from you."

Jason smiled in patent disbelief. "You want to hear stories from some old fart about how rough he had it growing up? Pull the other leg, Emily."

"No, really! I do. I mean, Mom and Aunt Ashley make it sound like it was awful. I mean, we're not rich. Not like you are." She bit her lip, regretting the words, but carried on. "But we're not poor, either. Mom's got a decent job, and so does Aunt Ashley."

"Well," her uncle said reluctantly, his eyes shadowed. "If you want. But if I start boring you, let me know."

She nodded eagerly, and Jason began to speak, his voice oddly nostalgic. The voice of a man who didn't actually miss those days, but was simply glad they were over. As he went on, Emily began to get the sense of his childhood - of too many people, with not enough money or room, stuck in a house that was too small. Too cold in the winter, too hot in the summer, all of them rubbing against each other in an irritable friction that was only made tolerable by the fact that they were family, and they had to get along somehow.

He spoke of Elliot Chapel, his father, Emily's grandfather, who had died when she was just a baby, with a sort of fond irritation. In his words, he took shape in her eyes. A big, hearty man, bad with money, impatient with orders and rules, but hardworking and generous to a fault. But his love for his mother and sister and Ashley were easy to see. As the sky darkened and the stars came out, turning the night sky into black velvet sown with chips of colored jewels, one story ran into another.

But her mother was a sort of hole, noticeable only by her absence. Even her uncle Austin got more attention, though he was usually only mentioned in the sort of searing, disgusted invective that she was used to hearing about her mother's brother from his other two siblings.

"You don't talk about Mom much," she said hesitantly, after a story about a long-ago family vacation that ended with a blown transmission in Colorado and a five-day stay in a campground infested with snakes and scorpions, which her uncle swore was completely true. "Did you guys have some sort of big fight or something? Is that why you never come home to visit?"

Her uncle sighed, looking at his wine-glass. His forehead was furrowed, and she ached to smooth away the lines of care.

"I love Jessica. I love her so much it hurts, sometimes. But there's a lot of history between me and your mom, Emmie," he said at last. "Old history, from before you were born. She didn't like it when I went away to college, and she hated it when I took a job in New York after I graduated. She said I was running away. Running away from home, from Marion, from her and Ashley, from responsibility, from everything. That if I was ashamed of where I was from, I should just come out and admit it." He chewed on his lip. "That was a bad time. Dad had died, Mom was trying to get along with just one income, you were maybe two years old and Jess was having a rough time trying to juggle everything, and Austin was just starting to get into real trouble.

"Maybe she was right. Maybe I was running away. Maybe I could have gotten a job in St. Louis and stayed closer to home. But, dammit." He shook his head. "There didn't seem to be anything left for me back here. I wanted to start living my life, and when I got the job offer to move out east, I never even really thought twice. Maybe that makes me a bad person. I don't know."

Emily blinked at that astounding confession, unsure of what to say. She certainly hadn't intended for her question to sound like some sort of indictment

There's a lot of guilt there, she realized. Maybe that's why he never comes back. Because he doesn't want to roll up in his big fancy car and make it seem like he's bragging.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm glad you're back now," she said, standing up. She swayed slightly, and she grabbed the back of the chair. Belatedly, she realized that between the two of them, they had put away an entire bottle of wine. Her uncle might be used to it, but she certainly wasn't. "And I hope you stay for a few days at least."

"Oh, I have to." Jason grinned as he poured the last drops into his glass and drank them off. "If I show up before next Monday, at least, Loretta will probably toss me out of the office on my ear.

"But I think I've had enough fun for one night. It's time I went to bed." He stood and gathered up the empty glasses. "And you should too, probably."

"Probably," Emily agreed. On impulse, she stepped forward and hugged her uncle, her cheek against his chest. Through the worn cotton of his t-shirt, his warm male scent filled her nostrils. She couldn't do what she wanted, not here, not now. Couldn't run her hands over his body, couldn't act on the forbidden, taboo desire that was turning her body into an inferno of lust. But at least she could have this tiny little moment, all her own.

"I'm glad you came back, Uncle Jason," she whispered, lifting her face. His lips were just a few inches away from hers, and it almost killed her to not cross that tiny gap.

"I hope you stay."

Her uncle gallantly let Emily take the first shower, which was a good thing, because it allowed her to get control of herself before she did something crazy.

Like, maybe, pull down his shorts in the middle of the deck, take his cock into her mouth, and blow him until he filled her mouth with his hot, creamy cum.

This is crazy. Under the hot spray of the shower, she scrubbed herself, trying to rid herself of the feelings that had emerged, full-blown, the second she saw her uncle standing on the edge of the lake. She had always thought her uncle was attractive, but there had never been this insistent tug, as if her body, and not her, was the one making the decisions. If he had demanded, then and there, for her to strip naked for him, she would have done so without a murmur of complaint.

Hell, she would have welcomed it. All during the evening, she had covertly watched her sexy older uncle. The way he moved, lazily athletic, every move sure and controlled. The way his quick smile lit up his dark eyes. His sensual mouth. Even the faint prickle of dark stubble that lined his jaw was lovely, though Emily was fairly sure that she would prefer him to be clean-shaven if, for example, they were to kiss.

Or if he was eating me out. She shivered, goosebumps rising on her skin, despite the hot water, at the thought of her uncle's lips and tongue pleasuring her.

This is crazy. Stop it. Mom would kill you if she knew you were even thinking about this. She would, right?

She turned off the water and dried off. A peek out the door showed her that her uncle was nowhere in sight. "Shower's clear," she called, and was rewarded by a sleepy grunt coming from the vicinity of the master bedroom.

Moving quickly, lest temptation make her do something monumentally stupid, Emily padded barefoot down the hall to the room she usually claimed as hers when her family visited the lake house, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the hardwood floor in her wake. It was solid and comfortable, like the rest of the house, with a big, wood-framed bed and a bookcase that she had haphazardly filled over the years.

She dried off quickly, then turned off the lights, locked the door, and slid naked between the sheets. The window, opened when she arrived earlier in the day, let in the cool night air, driving out the musty, dusty smell of a room that had been unoccupied for months.

Uncle Jason. Unthinking, her hand slid under her body, finding the lips of her pussy almost painfully sensitive. Emily stroked them, her breath whistling in and out between her clenched teeth. But that wasn't enough, and soon two fingers had slipped into her horny channel, and her thumb was urgently rubbing her clit. Her uncle was so hot, so sexy, so...male. She imagined him coming into her room while she was masturbating. He wouldn't say a word. Just take off his clothes, lift her bottom up until he was in just the right position, and plow her full of his cock.

Emily turned her head and bit the pillow, not wanting her panting squeaks of arousal to be heard. Everything about Uncle Jason turned her on. The sound of his voice, the way his eyes lit up when he was talking, the way he actually shut up and listened when she spoke.

He's not like anyone I've ever gone out with, she thought, her breath coming in quick gasps. All the boys she had dated had either been so nervous they could barely function, or so self-centered and egotistical they never shut up. He doesn't need to prove anything to anyone. He's confident, not arrogant like some football player who's all puffed up because he scored three touchdowns against Harrisburg.

I wonder what his cock is like. She ground her pubis down hard into her palm, wishing it was a male body on top of her, fucking her doggie. Like the rest of him? Big and strong?

Oh, God, I want him so bad. On top of me, filling me up, making me cum cum cum cum!

Her climax hit, her entire body clenching around the bolt of pleasure which pierced her cunt, and Emily clenched her teeth shut on her shout of release. Her breasts throbbed with heat, and wetness drenched her fingers as her sheath spasmed around her pumping hand.

When the aftershocks finally stopped, she lay flat and still, hoping that her uncle hadn't heard her.

But a tiny part of her mind hoped that he had, and would come to investigate. And if they did, there would have been no power on earth that would have stopped her from trying to seduce him.

While she lay there, torn between hope and fear, she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 5: Jail Bait

Jason slept late the next day. And when he woke up, it was from his best night's rest in weeks, if not months. His sleep had been deep and completely dreamless.

Or maybe not completely dreamless, he realized. Whatever they had been, they had definitely left him with a world-class morning hard-on, he thought, rolling over and looking down his body.

"Go down, you," he muttered, one side of his mouth curled up in a wry smile. "You're not getting laid today. Not with Emily in the house." With his niece around he couldn't even indulge in his half-formed plan to drive up to St. Louis for a visit with a call-girl. Emily would certainly want to know where he was going, and Jason would cut out his own tongue before he admitted to her that he sometimes, when the stress and pressure of his job got to be too much, spent a few hours with a high-class escort.

But still. If he couldn't do the one, he could at least make sure he didn't walk out of his bedroom sporting a stiffy that even his niece couldn't ignore. With a sigh that was half-relief, he wrapped his fingers around his cock and began to slowly jack his rod. For a while he simply lay there, stroking himself. His mind was a blank, content to enjoy the cool morning air, the sunshine that filtered through the curtains, and the warm, thick mattress under his back. But soon, unbidden fantasies began to enter his mind, and he was unable to push them aside. Long-ago memories of Jessica, so few but so important, merged with images of Emily's sweet, youthful body.

He groaned, and began to stroke faster. His niece. His sister's daughter, the child of a long-ago affair that had locked Jessica into life as a single mother in Marion. Her father had been some random high-school classmate who had joined the navy and left town for good as soon as he graduated. The last he had heard, Walt was serving on a destroyer in the Atlantic fleet. Though, Jason was forced to admit, he had never tried to skip out on his child-support.

But Emily! His niece was so casually, incredibly sexy that Jason sometimes felt like a pervert just looking at her. No matter where his eyes roamed, there was something delightful to see, whether it was her cheerfully animated face, her perfectly formed breasts, her perky bottom, or the tan, slender legs that melded effortlessly into a slender waist that he ached to put his hands around.

No. Stop it. She's your niece. Haven't you learned anything in the last twenty years? Besides. If you even hinted that you were attracted to her, she would probably run all the way back to her house and call the police as soon as she got in the front door.

But there was nothing wrong with imagining what it would be like, was there? Nothing wrong with undressing, in his mind's eye, that sweet, nubile teenage form, revealing her centerfold-worthy body. Nothing wrong with wondering if her nipples would stand up like her mother's when he licked them. Nothing wrong with dreaming if her velvet sheath would welcome his cock the same way Jessica's had, hot and tight and wet and oh, so good.

So good.

Jason came, but it was more like an explosion. His cock bucked violently in his hand, ropes of semen bursting out of the tip and spattering on his chest. Somehow, he managed to stay quiet, lest he wake his niece, but his breath was loud and harsh in his ears, and by the time the last spasms ended, his entire body felt drained.

Ugh. Jason's nose wrinkled with distaste as he looked at his chest. Luckily, he had dropped the towel from last night's shower conveniently close to the bed, so he was able to grab it and clean up the worst of the mess.

Still nude, he crept up to the door and cracked it open. The hallway was deserted, though there seemed to be some noise coming from the kitchen. Heart pounding, he fled down the hall to the bathroom and shut the door behind him with a bang.

"So what are you planning to do today?" he asked Emily a little while later, while they were washing up from breakfast. It had been a leisurely affair - eggs and bacon and toast for Emily; bacon and hashbrowns and banana-nut muffins for Jason, who despised eggs with a passion that was almost holy. "Just hang out?"

"I'm doing whatever you're doing, Uncle Jason," she smiled, as she set the last saucer in the dish-rack. "I haven't seen you since, when? Thanksgiving two years ago? I'm not going to let you out of my sight. If I do, you might disappear on me again, and Mom would never forgive me if I did that."

"Huh." Jason looked out the back door and towards the lake. It was another sunny day, though it promised to be hotter than the day before. More humid, too. Not a good day for hiking, where mosquitoes would descend on them in blood-sucking clouds. And Jason had always been the type of guy who would rather float around on top of the water than swim around in it. "I was thinking about taking the boat out and doing some fishing. I haven't been out on the lake in years. Do you know if we still have the fishing rods and all of the other stuff around?"

Emily frowned. "I'm not sure. I haven't seen that stuff in a while. If it's here, it's probably all out in the shed."

"If Austin didn't come out here one night when he was out on parole and sell it all for rent money," Jason grunted, as he wiped his hands dry on a dishtowel.

But it seemed his fears were groundless. When they undid the padlock and slid open the door of the shed, it was dark and dusty and festooned with cobwebs, but the aluminum canoe still hung on hooks from the ceiling, and his fishing poles and other gear were stacked neatly in a corner.

"Help me get this thing down to the dock," Jason said, moving to one end of the canoe. "Then I'll clean it up and load up the gear, and maybe you can pack us a lunch."

"Sounds good," Emily replied, lifting her arms to free her end. The movement gave Jason a quick glimpse of her tan, flat belly, and his heart jumped. Moving carefully, they lugged the aluminum canoe down the slope and out to the end of the dock, which jutted out perhaps twenty yards into the waters of the lake. A ladder down one side made things easy for swimmers and boaters alike.

"I'll be up in a few minutes to help you out," Jason said, picking a dead leaf out of the bottom and flipping it into the water. "But be sure to pack lots of drinks. Do you want me to get you a pole, too?"

Emily smiled and shrugged. "If you want. But I'm not a huge fan of fishing, Uncle Jason. I like to eat them, but someone else can have the fun of catching them."

Thirty minutes later, they were out on the water, a loaded cooler stowed neatly away at one end of the canoe, filled with drinks and snacks. Jason ransacked his mind, trying to remember some of the good fishing spots, and eventually paddled the boat around the point and towards a shallow bay east of the house, overhung at one end by a cluster of hickory and walnut trees. The muscles in his arms burned pleasantly as he pushed the canoe through the water, and Emily picked up a paddle herself and helped out.

"That's far enough," he said, and backed water. Whistling under his breath, he tied a lure onto the end of his line and flicked it into the shadowed, tree-overhung waters at the far end of the bay. "Hand me a drink, would you, Emmie? This is thirsty work."

"Beer or juice or soda?"

"Beer? This early in the day? No way. I'm not that much of a degenerate. Soda will be fine."

"Cool." Emily flipped up the lid of the cooler and passed him a bottle.

Jason cracked the cap, took a drink, and slotted it into the cup-holder. "Going to be a warm one," he said, looking up at the sky. The sun was shining down brightly, and the air was muggy, though clouds seemed to be building in the southwest.