From: nogarder@ix.netcom.com(*** )
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Sandra's Dressing (MF, voyeur)
Date: 3 Feb 1996 20:24:06 GMT

			  Sandra's Dressing

	I'm not usually given to voyeurism, but this time I couldn't
help myself. Sandra, my eighteen-year-old niece, had left her bedroom
door open, and there I was, standing in the hallway outside watching
her put on her nightie. The thin material of the night gown had
tangled in her hair and was bunched up, covering her face.
Concentrating on trying to separate hair and gown, and unaware of my
presence, she was oblivious of the scene she presented. And a
delightful scene it was. Even though I knew it was wrong to peep like
that, even though it was the forbidden fruit of my own niece I was
watching, I was caught up, mesmerized, unable to tear my eyes away.

	I could hardly believe how Sandra had changed in the last
several years. The last time I had seen her, about four years before,
she was just a thin, scraggly girl with braces on her teeth and an
almost flat bosom just beginning to show the swells of womanhood. From
what I could now see, it was obvious that womanhood had not been long
delayed.

	Sandra's body was now fully developed, and she was definitely
and completely a woman. Her breasts were large and firm, standing out
from her body with only little jiggles to betray that they were flesh
and blood. Brown nubbins of nipples topped them, each circled by its
wide, crepe-crinkled areole. The breasts were supported by a thin
waist, no more than twenty-two inches at the most. From there her hips
flared out, forming the graceful lines of her thighs, each wide at the
juncture of her vee, then tapering to her perfectly formed knees and
calves.

	An unbidden surge of arousal flowed through me. Despite her
being my niece, despite Sandra's mother - my divorced older sister -
being asleep in her room at the end of the hall, I felt myself swell,
my cock becoming rigid and gristle-like.

	One aspect of the scene puzzled me, though. Sandra, very
obviously a mature, grown woman, was wearing plain, white cotton
panties. Not high-cut or bikini, but full-cut panties that covered her
in thick material from waist to thigh. In stark contrast to the
message sent by her fully developed body, the panties imposed a
virginal, little-girl aspect on her appearance.

	I thought all girls got rid of cotton panties at the onset of
menarche, that silken underwear and womanhood came at the same time. I
had to admit, though, that her cotton panties worked a strange magic
on me. They made her concealed treasures even more forbidden, more
school-girl alluring, than any silken panties could have. I couldn't
tear my eyes from the scene, but continued to watch, pre-cum beginning
to leak from my hard cock.

	Sandra's nightie finally came loose and dropped around her
body. When it did, she looked up and saw me standing there, watching.
Our eyes met and held for a moment, silently. I came to my senses at
that point and started apologizing, almost stammering in my desire to
explain away my voyeurism. Sandra just smiled shyly and said, "I'm
the one who's sorry, Uncle Will. It's my fault. I shouldn't have been
changing clothes with my door open."

	As much to show she wasn't angry as to continue the practice
she had followed since I had been in her house, Sandra came up to me
and gave me a goodnight kiss. Usually it was just a peck on the cheek,
but this evening she kissed me lightly upon the lips instead. She must
have just licked her lips because the kiss was moist and warm. Her
breasts, the nipples clearly showing through her thin nightie, brushed
across my chest during the kiss.

	The next morning, my sister Ann left for work before either
Sandra or I had awakened. I had been staying with her and Sandra for
two weeks and would probably be there another couple of weeks. I had
taken a new job in their town and Ann insisted on my staying with them
while waiting for my work to start and construction on the apartment I
was going to rent to be completed. Even though I helped pay expenses
and I knew Ann was pleased to have a man around the house, I still
tried to take care of some of the housework and cooking. For mornings,
that meant breakfast for me and Sandra - Ann only had a quick cup of
coffee before work.

	The smell of bacon and eggs must have lured Sandra out of bed
because she appeared in the kitchen just as I had it ready to serve.

	"Your breakfast is served, princess," I told her, putting her
plate on the breakfast bar. Clad more modestly now in a robe, Sandra
got up on a bar stool and started in on her scrambled eggs. I sat
across from her and began to eat mine. We ate in silence until we
finished, and then I poured us each another cup of coffee.

	Sipping my coffee, I once more told Sandra I was sorry about
watching her the previous night. She smiled, reached out and patted my
hand, and said, "Oh, Poo, Uncle Will. You just stop that. I just stood
there with my door open and put on a show. It was my fault, and I
hereby officially apologize. I'm used to just us girls being around
the place and forgot about having one you men-folk types around. Now,
I don't won't to hear anymore from you about it. Especially you're
saying anything to my mother. Okay?"

	I continued to hold her hand, stroking and squeezing it. I
smiled back at her and said, "Okay. If you say so, it's a deal."

	"Including the part about mother?"

	"Especially the part about Ann," I said, smiling even wider.
"But there is one more thing I would like to say about it."

	"There is? What's that?"

	"Well, as you know, there wasn't much left to my imagination
last night, and I want you to know that I think you have turned into
one hell of a beautiful woman."

	Sandra blushed a little and seemed very pleased. "Thank you,
Uncle Will. That's a real sweet thing to say, and you're very sweet
for saying it." She leaned across, kissed me lightly on the lips, and
said, "Thank you, again."

	Sandra then looked down at her plate and was silent, almost
pensive. "What's wrong, Sandra? Is something wrong, Baby?" I asked.

	"There was something bad about your seeing me like that. You
were able to see my darkest secret," Sandra said, looking at me with a
sad expression.

	"Well, you did have on panties so I couldn't see everything
about you, but if what I saw was a dark, bad secret, then all girls
should have the same secret," I replied, laughing softly.

	At first she looked puzzled, but then she put her hands up to
her breasts, cupping and squeezing them. "Oh, you mean these. No,
these aren't what I'm talking about. Besides," she said, starting to
smile a little, "I could hardly keep these secret."

	Suddenly, Sandra reached down and pulled the hem of her robe
up to where the edge of her panties showed. "This is what I'm talking
about. Cotton panties! White cotton panties! Just like training
panties!" she said angrily. "I'm not a little girl anymore, I'm a
grown woman - a grown woman who has to wear little girl's cotton
panties."

	"Why do you wear them, then? Why don't you get some grown-up
panties?" I asked, not understanding her anger.

	"Because Mother still buys all my clothes for me, that's why.
You know my mother. You ought to, she's your sister. Conservative and
practical to a fault. She still thinks of me as her little girl and
buys me cotton panties."

	"Have you ever said anything to her about it?" I asked.

	"Yes, but all she does is smile and say, `Well, cotton panties
are cheaper, you know.' That shuts me up because I know that we don't
have much money. Between my college costs, what little she makes on
her job and what I make on my part-time job, there isn't anything left
over for many frivolous things. It's taking every cent we have between
us to pay for college and necessities."

	Sandra sat there, dejected, and started to cry softly. "Oh,
God, just listen to me," she said. "I sound like all the selfish
bitches in the world rolled into one." She looked up at me, drying her
tears, and said, "I'm sorry about this tirade, Will. I'm not really
selfish. It's just that every now and then, I get frustrated and blue.
I sure wish I could grow up and get this part of my life behind me."

	"Well, I don't know whether it will help you feel better, but
I can tell you this: In those cotton panties last night, you were
about the sexiest woman I've ever seen."

	Sandra reached out her hand and took my other hand so that she
now had both of them. "Will, you are about the nicest uncle a girl
could have." Then, laughing through her tears, she added, "Or do you
tell that to all your naked little nieces?"

	I couldn't help but laugh in return. "Since my only other
niece is two-year old Susie, that would be hard to do."

	"That a very nice compliment, and I thank you for it, but it
doesn't do much for my confidence around boys. I've had a number of
dates and have gotten pretty hot and heavy with several boys, but when
time comes to get down to the nittygritty, I think about the boy
seeing me in cotton panties and back off. Now that really has been
frustrating," she said, with a little rueful laugh. "Although Mother
doesn't know it, I've been on the pill for two years. Except for a
couple of times when I was in a bathing suit and didn't have to worry
about the boy seeing my panties, being on the pill hasn't done much
for me. I know it's probably all in my head, particularly since you
said they are sexy, but I really feel stymied by the curse of cotton
panties."

	"I'd like to play Dutch Uncle, if you'll let me," I said.

	"What do you mean, Dutch Uncle?"

	"Wait here," I said. I went to my bedroom, got my wallet, and
took out a hundred dollar bill. I folded it into my hand and went back
into the kitchen. I reached out and took Sandra's hand and put the
bill into it. "This afternoon, before you go to classes, I want you to
go to the store and buy yourself some of the silkiest, sexiest
underwear you can find. I know you'll have to hide them from your
mother, but at least you'll have them for dates and whenever else you
want to feel sexy and good about yourself."

	"Oh, I couldn't do that," Sandra said, softly.

	"That's why I said `Dutch Uncle,' Sandra. It's against the
rules to say `No' to a Dutch Uncle."

	"Oh, Will, I like `Nice Uncle' better than `Dutch Uncle'."
She put her arms around my neck and kissed me full on the lips. The
kiss was hard and wet, becoming more moist as we held it.
Instinctively, my lips started to part. She felt the movement and
parted hers. Our tongues touched momentarily, sending a jolt to my
pleasure center. Sandra quickly broke the kiss, pulling back. "Uncle's
naughty, too," she whispered. Her eyes sparkled, and I could tell she
was excited. "I can hardly wait to go shopping this afternoon," she
said, going to get ready for school.

	That evening, after Sandra got home from classes, she passed
me in the hall and whispered, "I got to go shopping this afternoon,
and I bought some of the nicest silk undies you can imagine. In the
morning, after Mom goes to work, I'll show them to you." She seemed
pleased with herself, and I was pleased for her, pleased I had had a
part in making her so happy. That night I dreamed about Sandra. In my
dream, though, she wasn't dressed in frilly underthings, but in plain,
white cotton panties.

	The next morning, I got up and fixed breakfast as usual.
Sandra came in, looking absolutely beautiful. It was obvious she had
been up a while. Her hair was tied back in a ribbon, and she had put
on just the lightest amount of makeup. Stunning, I thought to myself,
the only possible word for the beautiful girl standing there in robe
and slippers is stunning. I sat our breakfast and coffee out and
sitting across from each other, we ate. Between almost every bite,
Sandra smiled at me, smiling as though she had a secret she was
bursting to share with me. When we finished, we put our plates in the
sink. Sandra then turned to me and gave me a fluttery, light kiss on
the lips. It felt like I imagined a butterfly lighting on my lips
would feel. "What's that for?" I asked.

	"For being such a nice uncle," she said, smiling softly.

	"Being nice to you is awfully easy," I replied, smiling back.

	"I'm glad you feel that way, because I spent almost all your
hundred dollars," Sandra said with a musical little laugh. "Now I'm
going to show you what you bought for me. You wait here and I'll call
you when I'm ready. Okay?"

	"Sure. I'll be waiting right here," I answered. I was a little
perplexed by her words, wondering what she might be planning. I
expected Sandra to produce boxes from the department store and let me
see the undergarments she said she had bought. Apparently, she planned
something else. My pulse beat a little faster, thinking about the
various possibilities.

	"Okay, you can come look now," Sandra's voice came from down
the hall. Following her voice, I went down the hall to Sandra's
bedroom. The door was wide open and I moved in front of it and looked
into the room. Standing there, in exactly the same spot she had been
the other night, was Sandra. The scene was different from that night,
though. Sandra now stood there dressed in a pair of pale yellow, lacy
bikini panties and a filmy, see-through bra of the same color. She had
on just those two bits of silky wisp and nothing else.

	My use of the word "stunning" in thinking of Sandra had been
truly prescient because seeing her standing there with a demure, sweet
smile on her face did in fact stun me. She was a lovely young sex
goddess, perfect by any means of measurement. She was the vision I
seen in all my boyhood wet dreams, the central theme of all my erotic
fantasies, the pure personification of feminine sexuality. "Well, what
do you think?" Sandra asked.

	My mouth was so dry I could hardly speak. I stammered, "My
God, Nikki! Stunning! Absolutely stunning! But I shouldn't be doing
this. What if your mother should come in, what would she think?"

	"Mom's never here this time of day, so don't worry about it.
As far as your seeing me this way, you saw me with less than this on
the other night, so you're not seeing anything you haven't already
seen. I'm not embarrassed, so don't you be either. In fact," she said
with a smile that was no longer demure, "I'm kinda enjoying this. Now
you go back to the kitchen and let me change into another pair. I want
you to see me in all my new things."

	As I left the room, I realized I had a raging hard-on. I was
naked under my robe, and my boner was pressing against it, causing the
front to bulge out. God, I hope she didn't notice, I thought to
myself. By force of will I tried to make the hard-on go down, but had
little success before Sandra called for me to come back.