Rachel's Secret

Delicious, she felt her middle begin to melt, her little puss moistening as her fingers played.

'Was he noticing? Why yes he was.' Her sable skin was fresh and clean, she had showered, her hair shiny fell wild around her shoulders. Her long legs curled underneath, a little cat, a little pussy. How could he not notice? The hem of her tee is short, and she imagines him glancing at her legs as he reaches for popcorn.

'Oh, and my panties. Mmmmm. Can he see them?' And she is shifting about, drawing her one knee up so he can just see it wrapping around her ass. Eyes glued to the screen, don't notice at all if he watches you, because you don't want him to stop.

Powder blue. Very nice. Innocent, very see through. Rachel loved lace panties. 'Does he want to touch me?' She imagines he is shifting a little bit closer.

Glancing briefly around the cabin, she lets out a sigh, and slips her fingers deep into the wet folds opening her center and opens her lips wide, drawing her knees apart beneath the blanket. Mmmmm, light fluttering sighs. No one noticing, as she pretends to be asleep with the blanket over her.

And then in her fantasy, the same sigh. James looking at her, she had not meant for it to be so loud. He asks, "You OK?"

**

I just draw my knees up and smile. "Just thinking of something." And giving him a little sideways glance, I purr, "You want more?" Sliding closer to give him popcorn, and now curling there right beside him. "This is nice," and stretch so now I am leaning into him. Will he let me?

Why yes he does? The feel of him, he is wearing a robe. What is on underneath? His chest is bare, I can tell.

And then my hand finds his, an accidental brush, but I hold it, place his hand onto my bare leg, fluttering my eyes at him. "Could you rub me there? It's sore"

The feel of his warm hands stroking my calves, so sensitive. So good. "Hmmmmm."

Rachel's head dips down, and her hand is working faster, its magic, she finds her stiffening clit and digs in. Oh god so good, so god damn good.

His hands wander onto my thighs now, and she lets him.

As she fantasizes of his hands on her, she presses her legs together, can feel the juices in her cunny squeeze out of her. Oh, yum.

If only....

I lay my legs over his lap and coo, "That feels so nice. Do them all please."

Do you know how wet I am James?

Would I ever say that?

I let the shirt I am wearing, his shirt now, fall open at the bottom so he can see the little V of my panties tucking in between my legs, and Iet him rub me up high on my thighs, wiggling my toes for him, stretching my body, closing my eyes. Pamper me. Pamper me.

She is soaking wet now, and frigging herself hard, and trying to be quiet and trying not to squirm. Humping her hand, at some point she realized her head is bobbing up and down a little, and tries to stop doing that. Oh god, yes.

Her breathing is hard to control, a soft pant, like a dogs. Take longer breaths, breathe.

Can he see what he is doing to me, his eyes are glued to my crotch, the powder blue. Can he see the nicely trimmed fur patch between my legs. Of course.

My little landing strip. Do you want to touch me there? His hands stroking up my thighs, so perilously close. But don't look at him, give him anonymity, permission. It works if we are just watching our movie together.

In another version of this fantasy, now feeling so horny and hungry. My panties are gone, and the hem of my shirt is letting my dark hairs slip slightly into view. He is looking at my bare bottom when I am leaning into the sofa and at my bare bush as he is rubbing my legs, and then deliciously, yes, his fingers graze the hairs of my puss.

Oh god I am wet, it is getting on the seat. So wet. I can hear my fingers sliding through my cunt. I have no panties, my vagina is open and ready to be penetrated, penetrate me and I shove two fingers up inside. Feel my cunt stretch, taking in his cock. Oh god, yes.

Do I open my legs a little and invite him in? Slip my legs open, and his fingers are brushing the hairs of my bush, right over the top of my mound. I moan as he does that and then our eyes meet.

Permission.

I say, "Sorry I don't have my panties on, I forgot. All I have on is this shirt I borrowed from you. That OK?"

Rachel is gripping the armrest in her airline chair as her other hand is rubbing furiously between her legs.

The fantasy takes so many turns. Pretend I fell asleep while watching the movies, and as I sleep slide lower and lower until my tee has slipped up over my hip, and he is looking at my ass, staring between my legs. My shaved cunny, a juicy peach for him to bite into. MMMMMMM! Eat me.

I can feel his hand lifting my top over my hip, for a better view and I squirm my little ass to give him the show of his life.

God he would like that!

And as he is watching me, do I pretend to waken and notice how exposed I am? Oh, and ask "You don't mind do you? What do you want to see?" Oh god, "What do you want to do to me? Anything? Anything at all."

I roll on my back and let my knees fall apart.

"Want to see my tat?"

A little pair of angel wings tatted right between my vagina and my ass.

"See?" He's leaning in, yes he can. My legs wide. Oh, touch me. "When I am fucked, the cock inside me has angel wings."

"Oh, Uncle James I can't believe I let you see that!."

And then, oh, he is fucking me, all the way inside. He is not slow, hard, deep. He has turned me over and holding me on my knees.

Uhh, Uhh, Uhh. Slapping my ass each time he penetrates me.

With that her body begins to spasm uncontrollably, her abdomen contracting, her vagina contracting over her fingers as wave after wave of a fantastic orgasm burns inside. A lovely velvet orgasm, liquid glass, sending searing white heat through her. Oh god, Oh god. She is pressing herself into the seat, stretching, trembling. Petting her soft cunny, thank you. Thank you. The woman beside her does not move, no one is looking.

Oh it is fire, she is on fire. It feels so fucking good.

"James." She whispers under her breath.

Now calm, now silent.

Only the dull roar of engines through the hull of the plane. Her hand soaked in cum. She can feel the wet spot beneath her ass. A smile quirks her lips.

She closes her pants and falls asleep.

-----------------------

Meeting - Again

I found myself at the airport waiting for Rachel, thinking what have I gotten myself into.

She appeared suddenly from the entrance wearing cargo pants and a pink tube top, looking tired but with a big smile on her face when she saw me. My how she had changed.

"Uncle James!"

My god she was coming to stay at my house. She came up and gave me a hug, which considering I am not used to, I looked like one of those ridiculous old people who do not know how to hug. It was no big deal at the time, but I remembered in hindsight having no idea where to put my hands since her entire midriff were bare.

"You tired?"

"I'm not too bad, yet. I just about arrived when I left though. I won't make it too late tonight. We can go."

"Baggage?"

She was rolling a tote bag behind her. "This is it, all I got in the world."

I looked at her incredulously. Almost jealously. The idea of having so little baggage. And so little considering she was, after all, moving here for an undetermined duration.

"Mum gave me money. I don't want to wear all those British clothes HERE. I'll need to fit in." And she was moving along with me in tow. "Besides I got everything I need on this." And she held out her Ipod.

"You are a true nomad."

"A nomad with plastic!" waving her purse in the air.

------------------

Going Home

Rachel was 18 now and quite a bit taller, but still shorter than me, coming up to about my chin. Her dark hair was so much longer than I remembered, silky and shiny, and she was so well groomed. Her hair was clipped at the center, a handful of hairs forming a pony tail down a mane of dark hair that curled over her shoulders to the middle of her back. Europeans have such a cleaner, more confident look about them. Vibrant. Her hair flashed and followed behind as she tossed it around as she moved. She had such a lovely smile, and something exotic. The whites of her eyes were so white, the pool of brown brought that out, and her teeth so white. Such a wonderful smile, even when tired. Her movement so fluid, catlike. Her waist was narrow, her legs long, as I followed in her wake. Her mother moved there from America years ago, and so Rachel's entire life had been spent on the outskirts of London. Her father was a global traveler, multiple nationalities. She had inherited her mothers size and shape, and her fathers smile, eyes and dark skin. As she walked ahead, the sway of her hips. I am writing this after all events have occurred, but still, I could not help noticing. And I definitely did look at her ass and lovely female figure as I trailed behind that day.

"Mum says hi."

"I got everything ready, all the school things are in your room. We need to meet with the administrator and I have to sign paperwork with you. I'll be your guardian here."

I prattled on but she was not listening.

"I got to pee something fierce."

She laid her bag at my feet and disappeared as I stood waiting.

-------------------

That First Night Sets the Wheel in Motion

I believe all the subsequent events between us were set in motion over the next four hours. It put all the relevant pieces in place and set them in motion so to speak.

"I can NOT go to bed until eight," she declared as she set her bag by the sofa. "You got to entertain me." She cocked her head, threw back her hair and met my eyes. "I'm really here," she interjected.

"Ahhh." A woman in my house, interaction. Entertain? I was no longer home by myself, moving through a space that had become likes a monks cell. I was a fish who left the water of my solitary home and went out into the dry world, trying to remain alive until I could make my way back into the safety of my cell. But this girl was standing in my pond.

She volunteered, "We can play poker."

It seemed absurd, but I agreed.

I had cards which I readily found, and dealt them out.

With such certainty she says, "We got to play for money. All I got is plastic. Can you spot me?"

I looked like a deer in the headlights, so much happening. My reticence and acquiescence to her became my dominant trait, she found it silly and endearing.

In response to me she added, "We don't have to." The sideways glance, the pout, the girlish voice. Those teeth. Another beginning. My coquette.

"No. No. I got a jar of coins upstairs."

I wanted to please her and got my jar. We divied up the coins and darn if she did not win $10.

"I guess I don't owe you anything after all!" She had this wonderful smile, her eyebrow quirked up as she scooped her winnings into her purse. What was my sister talking about. Trouble?? So easygoing.

I said, "You sure are good at bluffing."

"You are too easy to read."

Cards laid aside, I had a small glass of red wine I had been sipping. I gave her small glass.

"So, Rachel why did you come, now? I mean, you were supposed to come summer, but its three months before high school is over. I mean not finishing out a full year in your senior year?"

She stretched, a little, tension? "You want the long story or the short?"

"Uh, just the story."

"It was because...." she paused, stretched again. Almost punched the air. "Well, it was Mums boyfriend, Tom, her now future ex-husband." My eyes widened. I had not heard. They were married? "He's a creep, a loser. Having her married was too much."

"That does not sound like Kate."

She sighed. "Mums changed. They've all changed." She shrugged, looked to the side a little while. There was pain there. "After dad divorced her right around...." I eyed her. "You know right after..."

"Lisa died."

It was like permission to proceed. I had to say it. "It was like she never got over what happened. And she's older, I get that, it's hard, and like men don't seem so interested. She wanted someone, and there was no one, and ended up taking anyone. So...ok, I get it, that's like, whatever. But....I just asked her to wait, not even that long. Wait till I move, you know. THIS was already planned. I'm already accepted at university. Just fucking wait." She paused. "Sorry."

"I see. And what did she say when you asked?"

"She says, I am through putting my life on hold...for you." And I distinctly saw her eyes go glassy, "I'm like fuck you."

I shook my head, "Not Kate...her faith..."

"Oh, she plays a good game. You know what - she's the kind of religious that doesn't do it for love love love, but so she can not be held accountable. It's like god told me or I prayed about it or I asked forgiveness, blah blah blah. I was fuck you and said you know what if that's how you feel, and I called her on it."

There was a pause.

"So that's my story, how about you?"

My heart immediately heavy. I hated this story. "Nothing to tell. Its four years since...." my turn to feel pain. It formed this fulcrum, this odd point of connection between us. I felt very close just then for some reason, I remembered. We talked low in this large silent house, one light on. The two of us now.

And she leaned in, and I wanted it not to go there, not tonight. So I added, "And you threw that snowball at me."

She laughed. "That's right. Oh my god. So, now?"

"I got to get back at you sometime." I grinned.

"What do you do around here?" She yawned.

I shrugged. "Not a lot to tell. Ordinary....I go to work, I have classes. Read. Teach."

"Anyone in your life?"

I felt myself grow warm, her eyes on me. "I, uh, I'm," shaking my head, "Not ready." She looked at me incredulously. "It's, I mean..." I had an odd need to justify myself.

"You sound depressed."

"No it isn't that. Really. I'm, it feels like the play is over. Nothing else there. I look ahead and..."

"Well, sounds depressing."

"I'm comfortable." It did sound depressing. "I found a magazine once that had an article how long it takes you to get over someone. It said it takes as long to get over them as you have been together. I mean it was a teenage magazine. I was like, I'm 53 and was with Lisa for 23 years so I can start dating when I am 72."

She laughed at that, "No, no. Don't, talk like that. A catch like you, you can find the ladies. You gotta try." She touched my arm. "You are as cute as I ever remember you. Cuter," and she reached her hand and brushed the side of my ears, "with these little silver stripes. You're like a silver back."

I flushed a little and said, "You will be good for me."

"Shake things up a bit eh, I'm the coolest girl you'll ever know."

"Boost my ego."

"Coolio."

And we fell silent, her eyes drooping, but fixed on mine. I had succeeded and kept her awake.

"Well this little coolio has to go to bed."

-----------

Risk and Reward, and Secrets

Rachel was a mystery to me. There was a hiddenness in her openness and honesty. Too much openness. She literally said whatever was on her mind, no holding back. I could not imagine her as anything but a good girl.

But.

This drip drip drip of teenage secrets was beginning to bother me. Not because I could not handle what she told me. Given her background it did not even really surprise me, but the fact I had indicated to my sister I would keep her in the loop as a parent had me bothered. The things she would sometimes say about her mom and Tom. In fact, my absence of problems led her to believe I was not being honest, and she would ply me for stories, events. Implying I MUST have had a thing with one of my students before. Especially after.....or SOMETHING.

But Rachel was another story. I won't go into full detail here. It would be too long. They included going through a friend's house when she wasn't supposed to, riding in a car packed with kids when she had just been expressly told not to, shoplifting. Taking money from her mother. These were stories readily shared. Things that I did not pass along to her mother.

But today I was being openly invited to be complicit, as she specifically asked me not tell her mother. After tentatively agreeing, she had asked me if I would sign a permission for her to get contraceptives, the 'pill.' Now from my point of view this was responsible teenage behavior, but since it came with the promise not to tell her mother to the point of lying if I am point blank asked I said, "I'll have to think about that."

And it escalated further. She asked me if I would be willing to buy her a vibrator. A sex toy!! And she asked in the context of the contraception.

Isn't this something SHE could do, why ask me? She was being completely 'honest' (or so I thought). She was upfront always open, I was at a loss. Nothing could prepare me for this.

Where do I go from here? Why ask ME? I figured she was trying to throw me off, after all given her behavior with her mother there was probably many things I was also not being told. Isn't that a strategy with 'honesty.' Was she really? Was this her just trying to throw me off. There was another angle that fascinated me, after all one of my fields was the neurobiology of teenage learning and here I was able to observe first hand these choices, the language, what was told, how it was told.

A category of sharing is honest deception. The lies are hidden in plain sight. So this was the position I found myself and I had to decide what to do. I knew my sister would be all over her daughter if she knew any of this.

I started obvious, "Why ask me? Ask your mother. Why keep it from her?"

"Which request?" A smirk on her face.

"Lets start with the first one."

"She would say no."

"Then, there is your answer."

"You know that is irresponsible."

"Are you sexually active?"

She eyed me. "I should be prepared. I have been. In the past. Yes."

I sighed, good. This was responsible. "While in the States?"

"No."

"It's just, I don't want to lecture you but...."

"Here it comes." She slumped back in her chair.

"No. No. Seriously." I was flushed. Winded. Could not believe I was in this conversation. "You are new here temporarily, in transition."

"Life is temporary. I'm... I'm going to be here at least four and a half years." And her tone, her voice, her eyes, her luck all suddenly converged and in that moment she looked like Lisa. It shocked me, and I paused for a moment. The intransigence, impatience. Even her eyes. I had noticed once before, but today merging with her movement and voice, tone and words. And then she was Rachel again.

"...Let me finish. Yes. I know that, but you are in this high school another two months and whoever you are with is also moving on. It is a time to remain focused. You can get yourself in conflicts you just don't need right now. You are an outsider from a different country."

"I'm NOT having sex. I was on the pill at home, mom never knew."

"I will say it again. You are 18. Why ask me?"

"It is free at the school with parental permission. You are my guardian. YOU are responsible for me." She was exasperated. "Look, Jim, you know this is the right thing for me to do. It just is, I am an adult, a situation can occur. It is reality. I don't want to have anything happen, have some accident." I was silent as she continued. "I guess I can always use the poor girls birth control, if need be." She threw that in so nonchalant.

"Excuse me?"

"Poor girls birth control," another smirk on her face. It was readily apparent I had not comprehended her words. She added, "You're the teenager neurobiologist." She waited for me to catch on, "Oh come on!"

I was truly at a loss.

"Seriously. I have to say it?"

-

"A blow job. You know, a blow job." She said each word slowly the second time.