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The Shelby And The Niece
by Beating Off Bob (beatingoffbob@yahoo.com)

***

Bob's niece is rebuilding a classic Shelby in his 
garage, but the body he's looking at isn't made of 
metal. When he tries to back her down, she'd rather rev 
it up, and once she hits the Nitrous, he can't compete. 
(MF, reluc, inc, 1st, preg)

***

Bob Sanders left the kitchen, walked across the 
minuscule patch of green that was called his back yard 
and entered the four car garage behind his house. It 
was brightly lit and he had an unobstructed view of a 
1968 Shelby GT 350 Mustang that was in the stall 
closest to him. It was one of the first onvertibles 
Carroll Shelby had ever made, or at least made for sale 
to the public. It had once been forest green, though 
right now it was a patchwork of different colors, most 
of them primer of one shade or another. It had no 
wheels, was up on blocks and the hood was up.

Hanging over the fender, coming from under that hood, 
was a pair of well-filled, tight cutoff jeans, with a 
pair of legs dropping out of them that were slim, 
tanned and slightly spread. The feet on the ends of 
those legs were equally bare and pointed. The owner of 
the ass and legs was balanced, with her upper torso 
inside the engine compartment and the rest of her 
hanging out from under the hood. Had the cutoffs been 
missing, it was an ass that would have been perfectly 
positioned for a doggy style rear entry that would soon 
have the entering prick fountaining its seed.

Bob's own prick began to fill with blood at the sight. 
Then he shook his head and reminded himself that this 
particular ass was that of his niece Heather, who was 
not only his brother's daughter, but was just sixteen 
to boot. He shook his head again. She was a mixture of 
things that was beginning to confuse him. Of course 
he'd known her since she was a baby. All through her 
life she had been coming to her Uncle Bob's house on 
the beach in California from her home in Montana where 
she lived with her parents and, of course, her brother, 
who was a year younger than she was.

There was a clang that Bob recognized as a wrench 
hitting the floor and a muttered oath from inside the 
engine compartment. The ass wiggled in front of him as 
she changed her center of balance and began to drop 
backwards, off the car. Bob stepped forward and grabbed 
her hips as her upper torso and a brown pony tail 
appeared. He set her down gently on the cement floor. 
She turned before he could let go and his hands brushed 
across the front and back of the jeans as her front 
came into view. 

There were a series of confusing images that flashed 
through Bob's consciousness: white teeth, the tip of a 
pink tongue, substantial cleavage, arms going around 
his neck. 

Then her body was pressed against his and he went into 
sensory overload as she chirped "UNCLE BOB! Hi! Guess 
what? I got that broken stud out! Isn't that cool? Now 
we can put the headers on and start it up!" 

All the while her braless breasts were rubbing against 
his chest as she draped her arms around his neck and 
talked to him from three inches away.

He didn't have a chance. His prick flashed to full 
erection and pressed into the front of those jeans he 
had just been admiring and touching. He tried to pull 
away from her, but she tightened her arms which just 
pulled her closer, and pressed her groin more firmly 
against his.

She didn't bat an eye or even indicate she felt it.

In truth, she probably didn't. Heather was all girl, 
but she didn't think of herself as one. At least not 
until lately. Her body had matured ahead of schedule, 
which disgusted her as it began to get in the way of 
the things she liked to do. That's because Heather was 
the quintessential Tomboy. She loved football, climbing 
trees, cutting wood, riding the range and working on 
her father's farm equipment. But most of all she loved 
muscle cars and working on them with her Uncle Bob.
 
He had a collection of sorts. He had a '67 GTO that was 
completely restored as if it had just rolled off the 
assembly line. He had a '32 Deuce Coupe that had been 
built as a street rod, with canary yellow paint and red 
and orange flames all across the hood and front 
fenders. He had a '72 Super Bee that was a pile of 
junk, sitting in the end bay. They hadn't started on it 
yet. And, of course, he had the Shelby, which was their 
latest project. 

Heather had helped work on them all. She was even the 
one who found the Super Bee behind a barn in the county 
where she lived. She managed to talk the farmer who had 
inherited the place from his father, out of the car, in 
exchange for helping him get his hay in one summer. He 
let her dig through the junk in the barn, where she 
found an extra engine, transmission, seats and some 
extra fenders. Bob had gone to pick up the car and his 
niece, who was staying with him for the whole summer 
between her junior and senior years in High School. 

She had gotten her driver's license since she last 
visited, and couldn't wait to drive the Shelby. She 
didn't care that the seat was mostly just springs and 
that it still needed some body work. She loved power 
and speed. The exhaust was the last thing keeping the 
car in the garage. That and finding some wheels and 
tires, but that was easy. bob reminded himself to call 
his supplier and order a set to be delivered. Bob was 
rich and could do things like that. He could have had 
the cars rebuilt for him, but it was his hobby.

Bob finally gave up trying to separate his erection 
from the front of her jeans. "Excellent" he said, not 
knowing what to do with his hands, which had raised to 
her bare midriff. She was wearing one of his old short 
sleeve button up
shirts, with the tails tied in a knot just under her 
breasts. The shirt might have had some buttons fastened 
on it originally, but they weren't now. His eyes were 
drawn to the smooth white valley between her breasts. 
She saw where he was looking.

"Uncle Bob!" she chided him. "You're as bad as the boys 
back home! All of you are all the same! Even Mark! I 
caught him trying to peek at me in the shower last 
month. All you guys think about is sex sex sex!" she 
didn't push him away, though. And her groin was still 
plastered firmly against his big bulge.

Bob figured honesty was the best policy. He hadn't been 
confronted with his niece's maturity quite in this 
manner before, but he banked on their prior ability to 
talk about just about anything. "Well, sweety, when a 
girl looks
as beautiful as you do, and smells as good as you do, 
and feels like you do, there isn't a man on the planet 
who could resist trying to get a peek at your charms."

Heather looked down at her chest. Then, to his 
amazement she pulled the knot of the shirt away from 
her body, leaning back from him, until they could both 
see her bare breasts. His stunned eyes took in puffy 
pink nipples on the tips of nice heavy looking globes 
of white flesh. 

"Charms... I've never heard them called THAT!" she 
stated. 

Then, as if she realized she had just exposed her 
breasts to a man, she blushed and pushed him away. "I 
thought I could at least trust YOU!" she said 
accusingly.

He grabbed her hands before they were too far away and 
held them. "Heather" he said in his no nonsense voice. 
"You CAN trust me. I will NEVER do anything to you to 
hurt you. I LOVE you. I may SEE you as a very desirable 
and sexy woman, but I will TREAT you like my niece. 
THAT you can trust!"

She looked at him with something in her eyes he 
couldn't quite interpret. "Well, OK" she finally said. 
"At least you TRIED to get your boner off of me. Most 
guys try to push it AGAINST me." Apparently she HAD 
felt it after all.

"Sorry about that" he said, sincerely. "It just sort of 
happened when I came in and saw your... butt... hanging 
out from under the hood of the Shelby."

She giggled "You sure it wasn't just the Shelby?"

He snorted. "Trust me. You're MUCH sexier than that 
car."

She made a mock bow, exposing most of her teen breasts 
again. "Why THANK you sir. A girl's always happy to 
know she's sexier than a car." She straightened back up 
and leaned back against the fender of the car, looking 
thoughtful. Her eyes dropped until he knew they were 
fixed on the front of his shorts.

"Uncle Bob?" she said, more seriously.

"Yes?" he said back, folding his arms and ignoring what 
he knew was a tent in the front of his baggies.

"I don't understand this girly stuff very well." she 
said. There wasn't much he could say in response so he 
said nothing. "I mean the guys really do act all funny 
around me now... not like they used to. When we go out 
they all want to sit next to me and touch me and dance 
with me and stuff and it's weird. And my own brother? 
Trying to sneak peeks at me? And Ralph Watkins? He's 
the captain of the football team at school where I go? 
He tried to KISS me when a bunch of us were at the 
drive in just before you came and picked me up! I had 
to sock him one in the stomach to get him away from me! 
I don't know what to do about all this. Why do boys act 
like that Uncle Bob?"

She looked so sweet and gorgeous. His prick was still 
at attention and he knew there was nothing he could do 
about it right now. Later maybe, but not now.

"OK" he said. "Like I said, you're pretty." She 
frowned. "No, listen to me Heather. I mean it. You may 
not think so, but from a guy's perspective, everything 
about you is the kind of thing that makes men want to 
make babies."
Her eyes got a little wider. "It's hard to explain. 
It's not like we look at you and, in our minds, say 'I 
want to make a baby in Heather'. 

But our subconscious mind, that we aren't even aware 
of, sees you and IT thinks that, and our bodies react. 
Hormones flow and that affects how we act. We're not 
actually in charge of our own bodies sometimes. Until 
we use our thinking mind to stop the process. It's sort 
of like the prehistoric part of me wants to make babies 
with every good looking woman I see, while the modern 
part of me says 'Gee Bob, that's not appropriate 
behavior, so don't do it'."

She was still staring at his crotch. She pointed at his 
boner. "So that's the prehistoric part of you, wanting 
to make a baby with me." she said it very matter-of-
factly, as if it weren't taboo.

It unnerved him a little. "Well, um .. yeah .. I guess 
it is."

She looked up at his face now. "But the modern you 
doesn't want to touch me."

That sounded pretty harsh. "Well, it's not quite like 
THAT. I mean I'm aware of how beautiful you are, and 
how nice it would be to... to be able to have a 
physical relationship with you, I suppose... except it 
isn't allowed. So I
don't."

"But you want to." She was implacable.

He had a feeling that if he said "No I don't want to 
bone you" it would somehow be the wrong answer. But he 
couldn't admit he wanted to fuck her brains out. He 
tried to moderate. "Yes, if you put it that way, but it 
isn't appropriate." This was getting a little strange. 
"Let me put it this way, have you ever wanted to bash 
in somebody’s head? Because they did something you 
didn't like?"

"Sure" she said.

"But you don't... right?"

"Sure, you'd get caught and get put in jail."

"OK" he said. "It's the same thing. I may have an urge, 
but I don't follow through on it because there are 
consequences."

She thought for a minute and then smiled. "I'm hungry. 
Is it lunch time yet?" 

Just like that she was a kid again.

They ate lunch and she reminded him that she needed a 
new bathing suit since she'd outgrown the one she had 
last year. He could believe that after seeing her 
luscious titties. They were big and juicy. They hopped 
in the Deuce and
he let her drive. She didn't rod it, even though it 
could do sixty in about four and a half seconds. People 
stared at the car and the girl driving it. She was 
having fun, he could tell. They meandered through the 
mall until they
came to a surf shop that sold swimwear. He looked at 
boards while she picked through swimsuits. 

"I'm gonna try some of these on," she said, with an 
armful of colorful cloth. "You sit over there so you 
can tell me what you think." She pointed to a chair 
that faced the changing booth. He sat and was chatted 
up by a sales girl who saw money in his attitude and 
was hoping for a date with the handsome man. She was 
cute, but predatory, so he kept it cool.

"Ahem," he heard and turned his head. He choked back a 
gasp. Heather was wearing a bikini... what there was of 
it... that was the same color as the Deuce Coupe. It 
was typically Californian, consisting of two Band-Aid 
sized circles that covered her nipples, and a long 
strip of cloth about an inch and a half wide that 
cupped her pussy lips while it covered them. Her pubic 
bush, while not thick, was visible on the sides of the 
bottom. There were 'strings' too, that held it 
together. She twirled. The strings that went over her 
hips disappeared between her buttocks, which were 
completely bare. "Well?" she said, turning back to face 
him.

Bob gulped. He'd seen girls wearing these things while 
he was at the beach, but he generally looked at them 
out of the corner of his eyes. this was the first time 
he'd actually fixed his full attention on a girl 
wearing one.
 
His mouth was dry. He had to swallow again. "It's kind 
of brief, don't you think?" he croaked. He was glad he 
was sitting down. He hadn't been this hard in a long 
time. "I like it," he said, a little more strongly "But 
your Daddy would KILL me if I let you wear that out in 
public."

She dimpled. "Silly... this is for sunbathing in the 
back yard... not the beach. I wouldn't go out in public 
in THIS. And... I'll have to do something about this." 
Her fingers grabbed the errant pubic hairs outside the 
suit and
pulled them gently. Then she turned and vanished back 
into the changing booth. the sales girl had disappeared 
as soon as she realized Heather was with Bob. She knew 
she couldn't compete. Bob sat there, trying to get his 
rampant prick to relax. He saw movement and looked up.

This one was a one piece. It was between red and maroon 
and sparkled, like it had metal flake in it. It covered 
her front, while leaving her sides completely bare. 
Again, the strings that held it on did nothing to cover 
her back and
slipped between her buttocks, leaving her ass bare. 

Again she twirled, "Public or private?" she asked. 

Bob groaned. "Private, though not as private as the 
other one." 

She grinned. 

The next one was just like that one, except it was 
green. The one after that was basic white. It covered 
her butt, sweeping forward to meet in a tied gather 
between the bottom and top, then swelled out to cover 
her breasts. A string went around her neck. It covered 
everything, but drew attention to everything it 
covered. Still... it covered everything. 

"And this one?" she said, twirling and looking in the 
mirror. 

"That one I can let you out of the house in," said Bob.

They took their purchases home and Heather immediately 
wanted to go to the beach in her new suit. Bob was 
already wearing his baggies, so he grabbed his board 
and they trooped down to the beach, about 200 yards 
behind his house. He didn't own the beach, of course, 
but it was relatively lightly used, because it was a 
long way from the public entrances. 

There were only twenty five or so people lying around, 
swimming or surfing when they got there. Heather went 
running into the surf, laughing and jumping while Bob 
put a coat of wax on the board. He'd promised Heather 
he'd teach her how to surf this summer. Her visits in 
the past had been too short to give her good 
instruction.

"I'm ready," he heard her yell as he buffed the last 
coat of wax. He turned and his mouth fell open. He 
should have thought about that white suit. 

It had no foundation in it. When it got wet it was 
translucent. Her strawberry nipples showed through 
quite plainly. They were erect from the water and her 
excitement. Her brown bush showed through just as 
plainly. But most
devastating of all were the two plump pussy lips that 
were clearly defined by the wet suit, just below that 
patch of brown. It drew the eye, and it drew that eye 
right to her pussy. The suit just screamed, "Fuck Me!" 

He groaned. He was hard as a rock again. Heather saw 
the twist of his face and his glassy eyed-stare. 
"What's wrong?" she shouted as she got closer. The suit 
did nothing to support her bouncing breasts. He wanted 
nothing more than to throw her down and breed her right 
then and there.

"Your suit," he gasped. She looked down, but it was 
difficult for her to see what he was able to see.

"What?" she said, looking at her legs.

"I can see through it," he said in a strangled voice.

She strained and gawked, but still couldn't see it 
straight on, like he could. "No you can't," she said in 
a chiding voice.

"Yes he can," came a voice from about ten feet away. 

They both turned and looked at the woman who had 
spoken. She was bronze and slim, probably in her late 
twenties or early thirties. She had the sun-bleached 
good looks that were common on the West coast. She was 
wearing a copy of the Band-Aid suit that Bob had 
classified "private" for his niece. 

"Though," she went on. "On you it looks pretty good. 
You have a really nice camel toe," she said 
conversationally, as if strangers commented on each 
other's pussy lips all the time. "But you should 
probably shave. You can leave a long thin vertical 
strip, but you have just a little too much. You have 
good nipples for that kind of suit too. All in all I'd 
say it was a very good choice for you." 

She turned to Bob. "I had in mind to introduce myself. 
I was watching you work on your board. But..." she 
looked back at Heather "I can see that would be a waste 
of my time. Too bad." Then, as if she'd just done the 
most normal thing in the world, she went back to 
reading a thick paperback book.

Bob's mouth was hanging open. He started to explain, 
"But she's my..." 

Heather cut him off, "She knows who I am Bob. I said I 
was ready. Let's go. I want to take a shower and get 
all this salt water off of me." She picked up her towel 
and stood, waiting for her Uncle to figure out she had 
just changed the rules and wanted him to take her back 
to the house instead of teach her to surf.

Bob was still trying to figure out where he fell off 
the turnip wagon. Why had she called him Bob instead of 
Uncle Bob? Then he realized she was probably trying to 
gracefully get off the beach in her transparent suit. 
"OK... sure honey," he said, picking up his board. They 
trudged up toward the house.

"Sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have said anything... 
but it was so obvious. I didn't mean to embarrass you 
in front of that woman."

"Oh, I wasn't embarrassed," she said, taking his arm as 
they walked through the deep sand. "I just didn't want 
her to know I was your niece. She thought I was your 
girlfriend."

"What?" said Bob, stumbling in the sand. Her hand on 
his elbow saved him from sprawling on the gravelly 
sand.

"Well," she looked hurt. "It doesn't hurt anything does 
it? I mean she was gunning for you Uncle Bob. If she'd 
have found out I was your niece she would have swooped 
and swallowed you up. I'd have been all alone on the 
beach in a see through suit." She craned her neck again 
"Even though I can't tell.

"No she wouldn't!" yelped her Uncle, a little 
belatedly.

"Yes she would." said his niece. "Have you looked at 
the front of your pants lately?"

He looked down. It looked like he had a grapefruit in 
his shorts. "But that was because of you, not her..." 
he said it before he could stop himself. "I mean... it 
was already there when she... I mean... ohhhh fuck." he 
gave up as Heather's laughter tinkled beside him.

"Uncle Bob," she said in a voice she might have used 
with a five year old, "We've already established that 
your body wants to make babies with my body. There's 
nothing to be ashamed of."

"Wow," thought Bob. "She sure is taking this pretty 
well."

By then they were back at the house. She went in and 
went straight to the master bathroom, which she rarely 
used. He heard the shower going and saw the door was 
ajar. He thought about closing it, but before he could 
the shower stopped. "Uncle Bob?" she yelled. "Don't you 
have a full length mirror in your room?"

"Uh, yeah," he yelled back.

She came breezing through the door, still dressed in 
the suit, and was dripping wet. "Sorry about the water" 
she said, as she walked to the mirror. She stood, 
looking at how transparent the material was. Her face 
bloomed bright red. "I might as well not be wearing it" 
she gasped.

"I told you," he said, somewhat smugly.

She was still looking, turning this way and that. "She 
was right. I DO need to have. I mean I knew I'd have to 
lose some of it for the back yard suit... but... yeah, 
I think she's right." She turned to him. "Do you have a 
razor I can borrow?"

Bob thought about the Shick Velvet Glide he used every 
day on his face. With a new blade it would be good for 
what she was talking about. But, could he ever shave 
his face with the same razor she used to shave her... 
pussy? If he tried he'd probably rip himself to shreds, 
just thinking about it. 

"I've probably got something," he mumbled. she stood, 
facing him, in her transparent suit. He finally figured 
out she was waiting for him to get the razor. Still 
painfully erect, he got the razor, a new blade and some 
shaving cream. He handed them to her. She gave him a 
dazzling smile, turned and disappeared back into his 
bathroom. This time she closed the door.

Bob decided to beat off right then and there, to ease 
the pressure. His prick had been hard most of the day, 
it seemed, and his balls were beginning to ache. He 
didn't dare get naked, so he just pushed his baggies 
down and started jerking off while standing in the 
middle of his bedroom. His towel was on the bed and he 
hobbled over to get it to catch his spend. It felt 
better already, knowing he was going to get to shoot, 
and he slowed down a little, to enjoy the feeling. He 
worked himself closer and closer.

"Uncle Bob?" came her yell through the door. He looked 
and saw the knob turning. In panic, he jerked his 
shorts back up, pinning his iron hard cock to his 
stomach. He jerked his hands away from his shorts just 
as the door opened and her head stuck through. "I need 
a really big favor." she said.

Bob was standing in an unnatural pose, with his knees 
slightly bent and his hands hanging at his sides, but 
away from his body a little, almost like he was on a 
surf board. He straightened up. "What" he said 
distractedly.

"I can't do this," she said. She frowned and peered at 
him closely.

"What do you mean you can't do it?" he said.

"I can't even shave my legs without cutting them to 
ribbons. This is even harder. I can't seem to get the 
razor to cut anything at all." She seemed to be 
distracted by something.

With sudden crystal clarity, Bob understood her 
problem. She needed scissors first. "You need scissors 
first. I have some. They're in the drawer... in there." 
he said. She looked at him a little longer and then 
disappeared back into the bathroom.

"I can't find them. Come find them," she yelled.

He went to the door. "Are you decent?"

She laughed. You saw me in that suit. What more is 
there to see?" there was a long pause. He knew if he 
went in there and she was naked, he'd fill his pants 
with spooge. 

Finally she said "Yes I'm decent. Don't be such a 
boob." He went to the door. She had a towel wrapped 
around her. She was staring at his waist. He went past 
her into the bathroom, got the small scissors out of 
the drawer and then saw himself in the mirror. 

The head of his cock was sticking out of his waistband. 

When he'd pulled his shorts back up he hadn't pulled 
them quite far enough. He wasn't circumcised and the 
hood covered most of the head. But he could see his 
piss hole and a little circle of skin around it. HE 
wanted to smash his head. But he couldn't. He fixed it, 
turned and handed the scissors to her. He tried to go 
back past her again but she stopped him. 

She didn't look down or make any sign that she'd seen 
him. "Look, this isn't working. I need help." He looked 
at her dumbly. "I need you to help me." she said.

"But..." he gasped.

She held one finger up to his lips and pressed it 
against them. "Like I said. You saw me before. It's not 
that different. We'll just snip and shave and it will 
be all over, OK?" He couldn't believe she was saying 
this. It WOULDN'T be the same. She would be NAKED! He 
would be TOUCHING her!

"I don't think I can do this Heather," he groaned. "You 
don't understand honey. You'd be NAKED. I'd be TOUCHING 
you. I don't think I could take it."

"It will be just fine," she said in a soothing voice. 
She dropped the towel. "See, it's just me. I look just 
like I did in the wet suit. You can see just a teeny 
bit more than you could if I was wearing my back yard 
suit. Come on Uncle Bob, I need your help. Pleeease?"

He was paralyzed. She was standing naked in front of 
him. Her breasts were right there, inches away. They 
looked so tasty. He closed his eyes. That was better. 
He took several breaths... deep breaths... and forced 
himself to relax. She was his niece. He could do this. 
"OK" he said, his teeth clenched.

"Goody!" she said. Her hands took his elbows and she 
walked him further into the room. "Where should I sit?"

===

He almost pulled it off. 

Almost. 

He had her sit on the counter beside the sink, with her 
butt right at the edge. He got a bench from the vanity 
in his room and sat it in front of her. She pulled up 
her knees and held them with her hands. Then, as he sat 
down, she spread her legs. He almost got dizzy. She was 
spread before him. He could see it all. She had smeared 
shaving cream all over her mons, and it was still thick 
with the stuff. He had to comb it out and then wash it 
off with a washcloth so he could use the scissors. 

"Remember what she said," Heather said, craning her 
neck forward, trying to see what he was doing. "About 
leaving a strip." He shipped carefully, actually able 
to concentrate on just the hair. 

It was the shaving part that got him. First he had to 
rub in the cream. Then he had to hold her skin and pull 
it to keep it tight so he could pull the blade against 
it. Then it turned out that her hair grew down and the 
only way he could get it really smooth was to shave 
upward. That meant he had to press on her pussy lips 
and hold them tight while he dragged the razor upwards. 

She began to fidget. "Wait a minute," she said, 
breathing heavily. "This isn't comfortable," she said. 
"Couldn't I lie down? That would make it easier." 

He stood up, and she jumped down. He followed her into 
the bedroom where she lay herself on his bed, scooting 
her butt right to the edge. She propped a bunch of 
pillows behind her back saying, "I want to watch," and 
then spread her legs so far she looked like she was 
doing the splits. "This is better," she said. 

He watched in horror as her pussy lips spread open. She 
glistened inside, as if she were... wet. He still had 
one whole side to go. The first side was smooth and 
bare. The other side was harder to get to because he 
was right handed. He went slowly, pressing on the top 
of her slit and dragging the razor upwards carefully.

"Mmmmm," said Heather.

"What?" he said.

"That feels... good," she said.

"It's not supposed to feel good Heather," he said in a 
gruff voice. He took another stroke and, in the process 
of stretching her skin, realized he was pushing his 
fingers right on the hood of skin that shielded her 
clit. No wonder it felt good. 

He couldn't resist. His fingers rubbed in a circle 
around her bud.

"Unnggh," she groaned. "That feels sooo good."

She sounded like she'd never felt that way before. 
"Honey?" he said, shaving another stroke.

"Umm?" she said, her eyes heavy lidded now.

"Do you masturbate?"

She blushed and her eyes opened. "Of course not!" she 
said. "Grandma told me what would happen if I did."

He wanted to grin. "Blind or Crazy?" he said.

She looked at him like he was crazy. "She said it would 
be both."

"She lied" he said as he took another stroke. He was 
almost done now. She did in fact have one long narrow 
strip of pubic hair left.

"What!?" said Heather.

"I said she lied. Mom - your Grandmother - was raised 
in a different world than you and I. Back then they 
believed a lot of things that just weren't true. One of 
the things they believed was that masturbation was a 
bad thing. So they made up horrible tales about what 
would happen to people who did it, to try to keep them 
from doing it. But they were lies. It doesn't hurt a 
thing. In fact it helps in lots of situations."

"Well I still don't," said Heather defensively.

"That's why what I'm doing feels so good. I'm actually 
masturbating you... a little."

"What?" her eyes got bigger.

"This" he put his finger on her button "is your 
clitoris. It reacts to pressure" he pressed on it and 
rubbed his finger back and forth. She wiggled her butt 
but clamped her mouth shut to keep from making any 
noise. "And I HAVE to do it, to keep the skin tight 
while I shave you" he said. He pinched her pussy lips 
and pulled them away from her body while he ran the 
razor up the side of the line of hair that was left. 

She couldn't stop a moan from escaping between her 
lips. 

"If I were to do this..." He pinched the lips together 
and then ran them in a circle that included massaging 
her clitty. Her hips humped up off the bed. "it would 
feel REALLY good. And... If I did this .." He put two 
fingers on he bud and vibrated them back and forth. Her 
mouth burst open in an open moan. "long enough, you'd 
have an orgasm. That's what masturbation feels like."

Her eyes were smoky now, and half lidded again. "You 
aren't finished yet are you? There was an unspoken 
message there, that his prehistoric brain heard loud 
and clear. 

He continued with the shaving until it was done. 

Then... he masturbated his niece to orgasm. At the very 
end, when it was obvious by her cries of "What's 
happening to me?" and "I feel so strange" that she was 
on the verge of an orgasm, and her hips were making 
fucking motions against his fingers, he couldn't help 
himself. 

He leaned in, slurped up her clitty in his mouth and 
sucked hard on it. She shrieked and had her very first 
orgasm. It left her shaken and almost scared at the 
intensity of it. Her eyes had watched his mouth suck at 
her sex. She'd heard of such things, of course, but had 
no idea what it would feel like and had never even 
considered that it might happen to her. In the time it 
took her to have that first orgasm, she decided she 
wanted to have that feeling again and again. 

And then again. 

And the look on her Uncle's face when he sat back as 
she relaxed from her muscle wrenching experience... no 
man had ever looked at her like that. It made her want 
to have another orgasm right then and there. Dimly she 
remembered his speech, and realized that part of her 
wanted to have this man's baby. She was amazed, both at 
the feeling, and at how smart her Uncle was. Something 
else in his eye made her ask a question she thought 
she'd never ask anyone.

"Uncle Bob... do YOU masturbate?"

"Oh yeah, baby, and I really need to right now. You 
have me going so much sweetheart. I need to go." He 
started to stand up, and she said "Wait!"

He looked at her and she said "You can do it here. I 
want you to do it here."

A shadow flickered across his face as he thought about 
that. She was still splayed before him, wide open, limp 
and satisfied. He fantasized about dropping his shorts 
and filling her un-fucked pussy with its first cock. 
But he couldn't do that. She wasn't ready and he loved 
her too much. Masturbating in front of her might scare 
her. But it WOULD ease his pain and he knew he could 
cum quickly. 

"Are you sure?" he huffed.

She nodded and brought her own hand to her pussy. 
Experimentally she slipped one finger between her lips 
and found her love bud. She shivered as she pressed on 
it and felt the same thrill. Well, almost the same. 
When her Uncle did it, it felt even better. But it 
still felt wonderful. She froze when he stood and 
pushed his shorts down to his thighs. She'd seen her 
brother when he took a piss in the grass while they 
were herding cattle. 

But this was something different. He was HUGE. It was 
long AND thick. It wasn't as big as a bull's, but WOW! 
It looked interesting too! It looked smooth, but bumpy. 
Then he stroked it back and the hood uncovered the head 
and she gasped. Under that skin there was a knob! It 
was a round hard looking knob that was shiny and dark, 
almost purple. There was a hole in the end. That was 
where her brother pissed out of. But this one had a 
thick drop of something white that was oozing out of 
that little eye. SPERM! His prick was making sperm... 
to make babies with.
 
She rubbed her pussy harder now. She was getting wet! 
But it was slippery and it made if feel even better. 
Her eyes were glued to his penis as he slid his hand 
forward again. The hood covered up that knob again and 
then, like magic it was bare as his hand whipped back. 
She watched in awe as his hand flashed forward and 
backward. She rubbed her pussy faster, feeling that 
wonder amazing feeling starting to come back. 

One of her fingers slipped inside her and she liked 
that feeling too. Soon she was slicking that finger in 
and out as she rubbed over her stiff clitty. 

He was groaning now... grunting... his face was all 
screwed up into a frozen mask. Then the rest of him 
froze too. Her eyes darted back to the tip of his cock 
and it seemed to swell. The knob was uncovered again. 
The slit opened and she was shocked as a stream of 
thick white fluid shot out. It splatted on her stomach 
and she realized it was hot.

She knew what it was, and she was thrilled to have it 
on her body. Then he was shooting another stream at 
her, but this one was lower and it landed on her 
fingers, right where they rubbed her pussy. She lifted 
her hand just as a third rope of sticky sperm lanced 
out of his cock. This one splashed right on her pussy 
lips and she shuddered. 

She slapped her hand back onto her pussy, feeling the 
warm gooey mess he had made. It felt wonderful, and she 
rubbed it into her pussy as that feeling washed over 
her again. This time wasn't quite as shattering as the 
first time, but she buzzed and hummed with joy at the 
fantastic feeling of his hot stuff on her pussy. 

Yes. She wanted to do this a lot.

Bob felt his knees going to liquid as his cum 
splattered on his niece's pussy and she rubbed it in, 
slicking one sperm covered finger up into her virgin 
slot. He felt himself falling, but he couldn't do 
anything about it. He'd never felt an orgasm like this. 
His cock was still spurting as he hit the floor and 
curled up into a ball. Dimly he thought about what a 
mess he was making on his carpet. 

Suddenly she was there, clasping his face between one 
dry hand and one slick gooey one that was covered with 
both his and her juices. She was kissing his face, 
cooing that she loved him, thanking him for making her 
feel so good. Then her lips met his and they melted 
into a lovers' kiss.

Luckily, he had ejaculated every sperm cell he owned, 
or at least it felt like it. What that meant was that 
he couldn't stay hard. He was too satisfied, too tired 
and too freaked out at what had happened. 

This was good because it meant Heather got to be a 
virgin for a while longer.

After that kiss, if he'd have been hard, he'd have 
shoved it in her regardless of what she said. 

She, on the other hand, was basking in the afterglow of 
two orgasms and the best kisses she had ever even 
thought about being involved in. She completely 
understood that part of the body he had been talking 
about. She knew she had shoved several fingerfulls of 
his sperm up inside her body. She was aware that there 
was a danger, though a small one, that she might end up 
pregnant because of that sperm. 

She couldn't have cared less. Or at least that 
prehistoric part of her couldn't have cared less. It 
just felt... right. She also knew that her Uncle would 
be the first man to have her sexually. He would take 
her virginity. She would let him. She would demand it 
of him. Before today she had never thought about giving 
it away. All she had ever thought of was how to keep it 
from being taken from her. Now she knew she would give 
it up gladly... to this man. 

Part of her assumed it wouldn't be as neat and simple 
as she hoped it would be. But that didn't matter. She 
wanted that... thing... that... PRICK... that beautiful 
penis inside her body, where her finger had been and 
she wanted to feel all that lovely warm spermy fluid 
being forced into her body. She kissed him some more.

Fifteen minutes later, they slowly came back to the 
real world together. She was completely unembarrassed 
by what had happened. He knew what would happen if the 
world found out what they'd done. He didn't handle it 
quite as well. He said he was sorry three times before 
she bit him on his shoulder and told him to stop. Her 
comfort level with what they'd done amazed him. He'd 
been with women before, of course, but after sex most 
of them had things to do and had become almost 
businesslike. He'd never had sex with a woman who 
actually loved him. He just didn't know it. 

Yet.

He knew better than to take a shower with her. His body 
would be ready to go again soon. He sent her in first, 
and then made her dry off while he took his own shower. 
Then he took the towels and used them to clean off the 
carpet. He asked her to put on some clothes and she 
did. After they had cleaned up he made them some lunch 
and they sat at the table, eating. 

There was a comfortable silence between them. She was 
the first to break it.

"I understand what you were talking about now." she 
said. "About the prehistoric part and the modern part."

He nodded. "It's hard to explain to somebody who has 
never experienced that kind of feeling."

She smiled, "I like the prehistoric part."

He didn't smile, "That's dangerous" he said.

She smiled again. "I know. My modern mind knows." He 
nodded and she went on. "But I really like the 
prehistoric part."

He closed his eyes. "It's hard... really REALLY hard... 
for a guy to control his urges... especially if the 
girl doesn't want to control her own. I don't want to 
ruin your life."

She smiled again. "Thank you for caring about me. But 
if you think that I'm going to spend the rest of the 
summer here and never do that again? You're wrong."

He groaned. "You aren't making this any easier. You 
know that if we keep doing that... I'm going to want... 
more. I'm going to want to..." he didn't know how to 
finish.

"You're going to want to make mad passionate love to 
me?" she said.

He laughed, more at east. "Something like that, yes."

"Yes, I know that," she said.

"And how do you feel about that?" he said, a little 
nervous to ask the question.

She got up and took her dishes to the sink. Then she 
came back for his. Then she washed them. He was 
beginning to think she wasn't going to answer when she 
finished and dried her hands on the towel. She came 
over and sat on his lap, putting her arms loosely 
around his neck. 

"I think I want to lay out in the sun for a while 
before we do that." she said. She kissed him gently on 
the lips and got up. Then she looked pointedly at his 
lap, where she had felt a lump growing. "Doesn't that 
thing EVER relax?" she yipped as she headed toward her 
bedroom.

"Not around you it doesn't," he sighed. But inside he 
was overjoyed. She hadn't asked him not to, or told him 
he couldn't, or that she wouldn't. She hadn't asked to 
be taken back home to Montana. While she caught some 
rays he'd go out and see what was involved in getting 
her on the pill. And he'd buy some condoms too. He felt 
better for having a plan, even if they never did 
anything more than mutual masturbation.

It was a good plan. It was a pragmatic plan. It was, in 
its own strange way a moral plan. Had he left the house 
immediately it might have even been a workable plan. 
But she put on that little yellow number... the one she 
called her 'back yard suit', with the Band-Aids over 
her nipples and the banana peel over her pussy lips, 
and that left her butt completely bare. Then she came 
out with a towel in one hand and a bottle of Coppertone 
in the other. "You're leaving?" she said, pouting a 
little.

"I have some things to see to," he said, trying to 
sound like a normal adult male. His prehistoric self 
was enjoying that suit an awful lot.

"Well, I suppose that's OK," she said, and he felt a 
surge of relief. 

Then she ambushed him. 

"As long as you put some of this on me before you go. I 
don't want to burn." She held out the tanning oil.

Alarm bells should have gone off, but he had a plan, 
and he had her permission to carry it out. 

One little detour couldn't hurt much, could it? 

He followed her to the back yard. The grass covered 
only a 15' by 15' square, fenced in on two sides, with 
the house and garage on the other two sides. It was 
more like a courtyard than a back yard. But the grass 
was deep and lush and it was a perfect place to lie 
down comfortably and tan. Unfortunately it was equally 
perfect as a place for other activities. 

But more on that later.

She floated the towel down and lay down on her stomach. 
She looked naked and his cock lurched. Controlling 
himself he poured a long stream of oil from her neck to 
her buttocks and rubbed his hands all over her back and 
shoulders and the backs of her arms. When he got to her 
buttocks it just seemed natural to rub and fondle them 
too, covering them with slippery lotion. Then he 
squirted a stream down each leg and worked it into 
them. She spread them as he came back toward her 
buttocks and his fingers tickled her pussy as he let 
his hands bump her there. 

"Naughty, naughty," she murmured. 

He worked her butt some more and tore himself away to 
lean back. "That should do you." he said, standing up. 

She flipped over on her back. "I can't lie on my 
stomach the whole time. Do my front too." She closed 
her eyes.

Now full fledged air raid warnings should have gone 
off. But he figured he could handle doing her breasts, 
and the banana peel covered her pussy, so he wouldn't 
have to touch her there. He could do this. When he got 
to her breasts though, and slipped his fingers under 
the Band-Aids to strum her nipples, she reacted much 
more strongly than he'd thought she would. 

She moaned and whimpered. "You never touched me there 
before... that's soooo nice. I LOVE that Uncle Bob. Why 
didn't you touch me there before?!" 

And when his hands slid over her abdomen, above her 
ovaries, and womb, she arched her back up off the 
ground. 

He skipped over the banana peel and did her legs, but 
just when he thought he was home free she said, "I 
might want to take off the bottoms. You better put some 
on there too."

Which is how Bob ended up sliding his slippery oil 
covered hand into the bottom of her suit as she spread 
her legs. And, of course, his oily finger slipped into 
her pussy, where he just naturally probed and found, to 
his prick's delight, that she had no hymen to tear. He 
knew she was a virgin, and figured her hymen was a 
victim of some accident, kor saddle, or tampon or 
something. But her reaction to his invasion was a long 
drawn out "Yessss!" 

Even then, he might have actually been able to bring 
her off and get up and leave, except that, while he was 
finger-fucking his beautiful niece, her hand snuck up 
into his baggies and found his rampant prick. She knew 
how to jack it, having seen him do it, and she did it 
just slowly enough to inflame him beyond reason. 

First he nosed aside the Band-Aids, to see what his 
mouth on her nipples did. The response was 
extraordinary as she felt the shock of his sucking lips 
streak from her sensitive nips to the pussy he was 
prodding. She exploded in an orgasm that, 
unfortunately, resulted in the near destruction of her 
new swimsuit. 

She pulled at it until it lay beside her in pieces. 

Then she pulled at his baggies until she could get to 
his penis. 

Then she pulled him between her legs, which were widely 
spread and open in invitation. 

Then she kissed him again, another one of those 
passionate kisses that result from the joy of orgasm 
and, as he held himself up on hands and knees, he felt 
her pull his stiff cock to her portal. About the time 
his modern mind shouted "STOP! DON'T DO THIS!" she got 
his cockhead to her pussy's entrance and her hips 
thrust up off the towel. Those pussy lips slipped 
almost gently over his knob, shoving his foreskin back 
onto the shaft of his cock and his cocktip slid into 
fire. 

With a groan and the thought "Maybe I can still stop a 
little later" he began to feed his virgin niece her 
very first cock.

Passion can do amazing things to the human body. Though 
she'd be sore for 36 hours after this, Heather felt 
nothing but the exquisite fullness she knew she'd love 
as her untried sheath was filled with hot, stiff meat. 
Bob, who fully planned on pulling his cock OUT of the 
girl before he came, was overcome by the feel of tight, 
wet, hot pussy swallowing his cock. 

About the time his pubes met that thin vertical line of 
hers, his cock panicked, and, like a stomach that 
upchucks, belched and drained his balls of their 
recently re-supplied cargo of seed into his niece's 
belly in three massive and uncontrollable spurts. Just 
like that, his plan to protect her was afloat in a sea 
of thick, rich, potent sperm that washed into her womb 
like the surf they could hear in the background. He 
hadn't even taken a complete stroke... and he was done! 

Just like a teenager!

Heather smiled as she felt that wet heat explode inside 
her. She'd been right. There was nothing in the world 
that could feel better than that. Her prehistoric self 
grunted, trying to force an extra egg out of an ovary 
to drop into that sea of sperm. Actually, it was just a 
spasm of her pussy, but her subconscious interpreted it 
that way. Her modern mind sat quietly and watched.

Bob's prehistoric self shoved harder, trying to 
penetrate clear into her womb to deliver his nectar. 
His modern mind yelled, "STUPID! STUPID! STUPID!" until 
it was slapped by the Neanderthal in him, which 
encouraged him to try fucking her some more.

Heather's modern mind finally spoke up, "Heather, 
darling, he's going to feel really, really bad about 
this. He's going to apologize. He's going to say it can 
never happen again. Be ready for this."

Bob took a breath and Heather interrupted him before he 
could speak "Uncle Bob" she murmured. "That was the 
most wonderful, fantastic, beautiful thing that ever 
happened to me. I wanted that more than anything in the 
world. Thank you so much for giving that to me. I love 
you so much. But I have to ask you a question."

She had disarmed all his apologies. "What?"

"How long will it be before you'll be able to do that 
again? And can you go just a little longer next time?"

As he laughed his body squeezed one last spurt of cream 
into her pussy.

END

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 46