Taylor and Me Ch. 02

I awake alone in my bed. The dream I had last night was so erotic, I am still feeling the aftershocks of the pleasure I took from the Cat woman. My clothes are carelessly tossed about the room, something I usually try to avoid, and the bed sheets are tangled about my naked body, another thing I try to avoid, especially since my niece Taylor has come to live with me while attending college.

I have dry-mouth and a mild headache, signs of drinking too much, which I did at the bar last night before I ventured home to sleep off my frustration with the Devil woman and her taunting. I don't remember much once I arrived, other than there were a bunch of people here, something which I would never do as I value my privacy and the sanctity of the house.

I roll out of bed and make my way towards the kitchen, wanting, no, needing coffee in order to attempt to resurrect myself from this stupor. The sun is peeking through the window as I am met by the aroma of a pot of fresh brew. My mind is dead set upon getting a cup and I ignore everything but the want for coffee. I stand in the kitchen, sipping the elixir of life and rubbing my face, which itches for some reason, until the world comes into focus. I try to piece together the discrepancy between the Devil and the Cat to no avail. The events of last night are scrambled in my head. I was trying to get lucky with the Devil and then I am with the Cat. I don't remember where I met the Cat woman, but she was definitely a good time.

My stomach is roiling enough I do not want any breakfast. I turn to go to the Living room so I can watch my Sunday morning political talk shows when I see Taylor, my niece, stuffing cups and cans into a garbage bag. There are a couple of full ones near the front door that need to be taken to the trash. The sight brings back the memory of the press of people here when I arrived home from the bar, alone and frustrated. I had agreed Taylor could invite a few friends over, but I had not expected a hundred or more people showing up.

She looks up at me and says, "Hi." I can tell by the way she says it that she is anxious about my response to what happened last night. She is wearing a large, loose tee shirt with yoga pants beneath and cross trainers, her typical weekend fare while she is about the house. She flushes and bites her lower lip before returning to her chosen duty.

"Hi sweetie," I reply, playing out the same conversation we seem to have every weekend. "What's on your agenda today?"

"Homework," she responds and comes to sit next to me on the couch, something she has avoided in the past. She looks so small sitting there looking up at me when she continues, "Thanks for not getting mad about last night. A lot more people showed up than I invited."

"I am glad you are popular," I say softly with a smile.

"It's the sorority," she states. "All the frat boys think it is a green light to invade their parties."

"At least nothing got broken," I say, trying to lower her anxiety. "And the police weren't called."

"True, Uncle Liam," she says, wrapping her diminutive hands around my upper arm and leaning her head against them. She allows me to wrap my arm around her shoulders and cuddles against my side while I watch the morning shows. I rein my temper in at the idiots who are the guests on the shows and the antics going on in Washington, D.C. while enjoying this new found intimacy between us. I do not know what has brought this on, but I like it. It feels good to have family again, something I have not had since I got divorced nearly a decade prior and the ex-wife ran off with someone who lives overseas, taking our children, a girl and two boys, with her. They are nearly the same age as Taylor, although I have not seen them since the divorce.

The scent of her hair distracts me from the shows. I know I should not be thinking of her as a women because she is my niece, but the closeness of living together with this sprite keeps me on my toes, as I have to behave myself around her, something I am not used to doing because of the long period of time I have been on my own. When I start paying more attention to her presence than the politicos, I excuse myself before she notices she has affected me in a manner unbecoming an uncle. I guess the Cat is still on my mind.

"I hope I didn't make a fool of myself last night in front of your friends," I say, trying to change my line of thinking.

"Nope," she says, "nothing I can think of."

"Good," I reply. "Do you need any help cleaning up?"

"I've got it," she states. "I will finish up after breakfast. I want pancakes. Will you take me out for breakfast?"

I look at her. "I'm-," I start and stop. "I need to get dressed first." She giggles in response and wraps me up in a hug and kisses my cheek. I am not sure where all this affection is coming from, but I like it.

We enter the diner and await a seat. Taylor has held on to me on the drive over and is still on my arm in the restaurant. I watch the people watching us, or more particularly, her. I imagine the thoughts running through their collective heads, 'Why is he with such a young girl?' 'What does she see in him?' 'I wish she was with me instead of him' are a few of the more prevalent ones I imagine. I look down at her and it is plainly obvious she has forgone a bra beneath the over-sized tee-shirt. I want to wrap my arm around her to pull her close so no one can see her headlights.

I excuse myself before sitting at the table to use the restroom. I return and see a cup of coffee on the table next to Taylor while she is daintily spooning her hot chocolate to her mouth. I start to sit across from her and she gives me a pout. "Aren't you gonna sit next to me?" she asks and I take a moment to decide before slipping into the booth next to her. I would rather not have to look upon her dejection during breakfast, and this seems like an easy way to make her happy.

She cuddles up against my arm again while I look through the menu. Taylor has a smug look on her face and I know it is because she got her way. It takes me a few minutes to determine pancakes would sit on my stomach better than anything else and the waitress is right there when I close my menu. Taylor unlatches herself while the older lady is present and I am relieved by it. She orders first and when I am ordering, she places her hand on the gray sweats I am wearing, quite high up my leg. I keep a straight face, barely, until the waitress is gone, before turning to my niece.

"What do you think you are doing?" I ask quietly, not wanting the people in the next booth to hear.

"Nothing," she replies quickly and then starts sliding her hand up my thigh.

"You need to quit," I state and she gives me another pout. "At least behave," I add and a smile creeps onto her face as her hand stops just short of grasping my junk. Another round for Taylor. She is on her game this morning and I am paying the price.

With her hand on my thigh and her hard nipples brushing my side, I start to react. I start to grow beneath the loose material of my sweats and when I bump into her hand, she lifts it enough to capture the head beneath her soft touch. A contented sigh and her head against me, I continue to grow until she has a handful, which I do believe was her intention. Her hand twist slowly and I say, "You need to stop that."

"What?" she asks innocently while giving me a squeeze. "I'm not doing anything." I give her a stern look and she juts out her lower lip, but stops stroking me. I am not sure whether to score one for her or one for me.

She leaves her hand in my lap while she eats and I lean forward enough that no one can see what she is doing without specifically staring at us. I am glad when we are done, so I can escape the predicament I am in. I stand and try to look as if nothing has been going on, but my body is not cooperating. I have a noticeable bulge beneath the sweats and I ignore anyone looking at me as I grasp Taylor's hand and drag her from the diner. I put her in the passenger seat of the truck, but she slides across next to me when I pull myself behind the wheel.

"We need to talk about what happened in there," I say and she leans against me, brushing her breasts on my arm. "I don't know what has gotten into you," I continue. "But this has to stop right now. I am your uncle and you are my niece."

"I know Uncle Liam," she replies. "I guess I was just in a playful mood. You seemed to like it though."

"You are a beautiful young lady," I state. "And I cannot help but react to that fact when you are touching me in that manner."

"Do you really?"

"Really, what?"

"You think I'm beautiful?"

"You are beautiful and a lot more," I say. She gives me a big smile. "If I was closer to your age, I would be honored to be with you."

"Age doesn't matter when two people are in love," she replies.

"I love you as my niece," I respond, trying to deter her advances.

"Nothing else?" she asks, sliding across my lap and wrapping an arm around my neck. "I am in love with you." She kisses me on the lips. I attempt not to react to the kiss as she licks my lips, trying to convince me to open my mouth to hers. I do have other reactions though. As she wiggles around on my lap, I grow harder. "At least something likes me," she pouts.

"You need to stop this fantasy," I state when she finally gives up on the kiss. I think I have gotten through to her as she moves off my lap and across the seat of the truck. I am thinking a point for me as I start up the truck, not paying attention to her for that moment.

She takes advantage of my slip up and is pulling down the front of my sweats, freeing me and taking me in her mouth before I have a chance to react. She has her hand wrapped around my shaft and her lips around the head, bobbing up and down on the first few inches.

"Quit that," I groan.

She pops me out of her mouth and licks the vein along the underside from top to bottom. "Do you really want me to?" She asks, more rhetorically than convincingly. She is sucking on my balls while I try to answer her to tell her to stop, but the only thing I can get out is a long, low moan.

She takes me back into her mouth and goes at it with gusto. Entwining my fingers into her hair, I moan, "Oh god, that feels good." She looks up at me and smiles around the shaft in her mouth.

My breathing quickens and she senses my pending release. She jams a finger up my ass and the intensity of my orgasm increases tenfold. I explode. She cannot handle the amount of cum pumping into her mouth and pulls back. I paint her face and hair, covering her completely in climatic fury. I feel like I have pumped a gallon of jizz onto her when I finally finish up.

Her lips wrap around my spent tool as it rapidly deflates. She ekes out anything I have left before sitting up. A finger is scraping my load off her skin and depositing in her mouth, but not quickly enough. It is also dripping down onto her shirt, which is becoming more transparent with each additional drop.

"You should not have done that," I say sternly, wanting to drive the point home.

She continues to clean herself up. "But you liked it," she manages to say between sucking her fingers clean. "I know I did."

"Taylor," I say, low enough that she retreats against the door and just looks at me while she continues her grooming. She does look cute covered in my sperm and I would like to do it again, but I still scowl at her until we get home.