Samantha

The summer of 2000 my sister Robin finally left her husband Ronnie. He was a drunk and was abusive; it had been a long time coming. There were few options, so Robin moved in with my wife, young daughter and I until she straightened things out. It wasn't exactly first choice because we lived in a cracker box, about 800 square feet for my small family plus my dog that is half golden retriever, half quarter-horse. One other small problem was Samantha.

Ah, sweet Samantha. Robin's daughter was eighteen that summer that she and her mom came to stay with us. Sweet perfection. She was perfectly curved, not a hard-body but a soft-body, a real woman's body. Her breast's were not immense but perfect and unblemished. Her most striking feature was her perfectly rounded ass. Nearly every time we had occasion to spend time with Samantha, I would find any excuse to stare at or 'accidentally' brush up against her perfect ass.

One Friday evening, Robin went to a friend's house to cry as I was not much good in that respect. Samantha, my wife Shelley, and I sat up watching The Breakfast Club. Half-way through Shelley stood up.

"Sorry, guys," she said stretching. "I gotta cover a shift tomorrow, get up at five." She pecked me on the cheek and scurried down the hall.

After about fifteen minutes, Samantha glanced down the couch at me. "Uncle Mike? How many times you seen this movie?"

I started counting on my fingers. "Including this time?" She nodded. "About four hundred."

She laughed, a beautiful, perfect laugh and her face lit up, making me realize how long it had been since she had truly laughed. She had spent most of her time dour and melancholy. Ronnie had made sure of that. She reached for the remote control and started flipping through the channels. Eventually she paused when she saw a graphic blow job on screen.

Samantha's eyebrows raised. "Oh, what's this, now?"

In truth, I didn't know. However... "I don't think..." Now, wait a minute, I told myself as the inner turmoil started rumbling in my head. She's eighteen, right? Who cares? I know Robin maybe probably wouldn't possibly not completely care, if she were here, and I am her favorite brother, right? Well, I am her only brother, but, pish posh, details, details. Robin is pretty liberal and has raised Samantha as such.

"What's that, Uncle Mike?" She asked me with a slightly flushed look to her in the dim light of the living room.

"Nothing," I said, feeling a little flushed myself.

After a moment, she cleared her throat and said quietly, "I've never seen that, not on T.V."

That confused me a little. "What do you mean, 'not on T.V.'?"

Samantha looked over at me and, in what I'm sure was a purely coincidental action, licked her lips. "Uncle Mike. I am eighteen." She smiled and looked back toward the television.

That was it. My cock, which had started to rise at the action on T.V., was now fully erect. It was a struggle to keep it in my loose shorts. I had to stealthily move things around. Samantha didn't seem to notice.

"Uncle Mike, do you have any ibuprofen or something? My back is killing me." She moved from side to side with her back arched, pushing her beautiful, perfect breasts forward.

"Uh, yeah, somewhere," I mumbled. This would give me a chance to calm my hard-on. For the last five minutes, I was having a difficult time not thinking about Samantha's full lips wrapped around my cock and trying her eighteen year-old best to draw the cum out. I jumped up off the couch and went into the kitchen. Opening a cupboard, I grabbed a bottle. "How many, honey?"

"Just two will be fine, I'm sure." Just the sound of her voice was keeping me at half-mast. God, the power of this young woman.

I brought her back the two ibuprofen and a glass of water and sat down on the couch again. Oh thank God, she had changed the channel again. It looked to be some cheesy love story. I could deal with that.

After about fifteen minutes, she said, "Uncle Mike, it's not working, the medicine. Do you think you could rub my back for just a couple minutes?" I'm not sure I could deal with that. "I promise I won't bug you again." She looked over at me with a pouty look on her face. "Please, please, please?"

I sighed and tried my best to look annoyed. "Okay, but just for a couple minutes, okay?"

Samantha jumped up and laid down on the floor. I sat up slowly and stared at her oh, God, perfect ass covered by a thin pair of running shorts. The heat in my groin was almost unbearable and I hadn't even touched her, yet. I kneeled down beside her and placed a hand randomly on her back, not wanting to take my eyes from her butt.

"That's close, just about three inches lower, 'kay?" She seemed completely oblivious to the tent in my shorts. I was throbbing painfully, and although I hadn't done anything, I found myself glancing down the dark hallway toward my bedroom. "It's kinda on both sides of my spine."

After attempting to reach the spot effectively for a moment, I said, "I'll have to do this side and then switch over to the other. Kind of awkward."

"Just straddle my legs. You'll be able to get both sides at once that way."

I climbed over with her smooth, tanned legs just inches from raging hard-on. I began to push forward with my thumbs on either side of her backbone. After a couple lunges, inadvertently, my cock plopped right out of my shorts, pointing due north. I froze.

"What's wrong, Uncle Mike," Samantha mumbled, her mouth pushed into the carpet.

"Um," I said eruditely.

"What?"

"Uh, nothing." I didn't want to make a big scene of stuffing my boner back into my shorts, as that was the only way it was going to go back in.

"Well, don't stop, it feels really good. Keep pushing with your thumbs. That's perfect."

I slowly started pushing forward again but each time I did, my dick would rub between her ass cheeks. I'm quite sure that's not the massage she was looking for. Yet, after a moment, she started moaning.

"Could you push my shirt up? We can stop in a minute, I promise." Well, I wasn't so sure I could stop in a minute. It had been a long time since I had felt this. My cock was throbbing for release. I pushed her shirt up to her shoulder blades and resumed my aggressive lunges, each time getting more bold with grinding my dick between her ass cheeks. Her breathing started getting faster and more shallow.

The effect of rubbing my hands on her perfect smooth skin and jerking myself off with her ass proved too much for me to handle and I quite suddenly blew my load. The first string of jism flew two feet and soaked Samantha's tee-shirt. The second sent a puddle into the small of her back. The succeeding ones boiled over onto her shorts and my hand.

After a moment of catching our breaths, Samantha whispered, "Uncle Mike? Did you just cum on my back?"

Sudden guilt washed over me. "Oh God, Samantha, I am so sorry..."

Samantha interrupted me. "Why didn't you just tell me you had to cum so bad when we were watching the blow job?"

We both laughed. It was going to be a good summer.