A Niece in Nice is Nice Twice – Part 3
by
Rwxxx13 (rwxxx13@yahoo.com)
Things went on like this for the next week or so. Having missed my opportunity to put a stop to the behavior early on, I felt more and more awkward about the thought of bringing it up later. I’m basically a non-confrontational type of guy, and the thought of discussing what was happening frankly filled me with something close to terror. Consequently, things continued to escalate.
The seduction was awkward but effective. Theirs; not mine. I was doing my best to avoid being seduced, but in their youthful determination, the girls continued to throw themselves at me.
Again, their main weapon seemed to be clothing. You’d be surprised just how skimpy a twelve-year-old’s wardrobe can get if they are really working at it. One morning Sam showed up in the kitchen with a shirt, if you can call it that, which she must have operated on herself. It apparently started life as yet another of those spaghetti-strapped shirts, but this one had been cut and then hemmed. It ended so high up on her chest that the bottom quarter of her firm little breasts were clearly visible. I nearly choked. This was coupled with another pair of boyshorts which were actually sheer except for some embroidery across the front and a tiny strip of white between her legs. At least half of her little bush was visible, even if obscured by the sheer material.
That time I actually got a bit upset and told her to go and put some damned clothes on. She just smirked and ignored me.
Samantha wasn’t the only one wearing skimpier clothes. Only weeks from twelve, eleven-year-old Hannah was showing off her assets as well. Her most shocking moment was when she came through the patio door just as I was passing, making me think she must have been waiting for me. She was wearing her own white boyshorts and a small white t-shirt. Sounds mostly innocent until I explain that she was dripping wet, fresh out of the pool, and they were clinging to her like a second skin, her budding breasts plainly visible through the wet shirt and her vulva showing pink through her soaked panties.
“I couldn’t find a towel,” she explained with a smile, then raced up the stairs.
The girls were also much more physical with me, touching me on the arm, on the shoulder, leaning over me when I sat, leaning against me when they sat. They toyed with my hair, drew lazy circles on my arms and legs, and brushed up against me whenever they had the opportunity. I even noticed another attempt to bust in on me in the shower, catching the light shift on the turning knob out of the corner of my eye as I soaped myself in the shower. Luckily, the locked door dissuaded them.
Then came the storm.
I heard the light knock on my door and woke to darkness just as a peal of thunder echoed through the room. I hadn’t been aware of the storm until that moment and wondered if I’d imagined the knock until the door cracked open. I could just barely make out the silhouette of one of the girls in the doorway.
“Uncle Jason?” the voice called softly. It was Hannah.
“What is it, Hannah?” I asked, my voice croaking with sleep.
“It’s thundering,” she said, stepping into the room. “Can I sleep with you?”
“Hannah,” I said, a bit of warning in my voice.
“Please?” she said. “Mom lets me.”
I sighed. She was still a little girl after all. I remembered when I was scared of thunderstorms, although I don’t think that was still the case when I was eleven. The fact that I was still mostly asleep and not thinking clearly didn’t help. “Okay,” I relented.
The bedroom door clicked shut as my eyes drifted closed. Lightning flashed, but I only saw the glow against my eyelids as I felt Hannah’s slight weight settle onto the mattress and the shifting of the sheet as she slid underneath it. A few seconds later, thunder cracked loudly outside and Hannah pressed herself to my side.
“I hate storms,” Hannah said softly.
“You’re okay,” I mumbled. “It’s just angels bowling,” I said, remembering what my mom used to tell me when I was a kid.
“You’re silly,” Hanna said, and she snuggled up against me, her head on my shoulder, her left arm curling up on my chest, and her left leg sliding up over my left thigh.
That’s when I remembered I was naked. Suddenly, all sense of being tired fled. I was questioning my sanity. I’d invited my eleven-year-old niece to my bed and I was naked. I considered sending her back to her room, but that seemed mean and a bit crazy. I thought about getting up and pulling on some shorts or at least some briefs, but was worried that would only draw attention to the whole sexual dynamic of being in bed together. Maybe she’d just fall asleep.
So I lay there quietly, far from sleep, as I felt her breathing smooth out and her body relax. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to be falling asleep. So I began to lightly stroke her back, thinking to relax her. That’s when I discovered she was topless. It took a couple of minutes for me to realize it, as I’d started lower on her back and even after I’d reached her shoulder blades it didn’t register right away that she should be wearing something. I began to think I could feel her little buds against my side, but it was probably my imagination.
Now I really wanted to her to leave, but I was scared to say anything to her and make more of this than perhaps it was. In response to my stroking hand, Hannah was now trailing her fingers lightly over my chest. I then realized that the heat against my hip was her crotch pressed against me. Well shit. Wait… she wasn’t naked, was she?
As nonchalantly as I could imagine, I let my fingers slide downward and breathed a mental sigh when my fingertips encountered the waistband of her panties. Still, I wasn’t imagining the heat of her little pussy against my hip, nor the fact that she was topless, with her tiny breasts pressed against me. Then to ratchet up the anxiety, I began to get hard.
I don’t know if Hannah somehow intuitively knew what was going on down underneath the sheets, or if she was already heading in that direction either purposefully or idly, but her hand began to drift lazily downward, fingertips dancing over my skin, swirling little patterns.
Hannah’s breathing seemed deeper. My heart was beating wildly. I stopped stroking the girl’s back, not wanting to encourage her. I felt her press her crotch against my hip. Was that deliberate? Was she just getting comfortable? Her hand was on my stomach now and slowly drifting downward. She pressed against me again, her pussy like a heating pad against my hip, and her leg slid higher along my thigh. Her breath was hot against my neck.
I kept telling myself this couldn’t be happening. My cock was straining desperately between my legs. Hannah moved again, her body shifting downward. Now her head was on my chest and she was practically straddling my thigh. The heat and moistness of her pussy against my leg was unmistakable and I felt my body stiffen when her knee brushed up against my balls.
I knew I should kick the girl out of my bed and out of the room. I knew I should say something. Something harsh and authoritative. I should put a stop to this nonsense right there and then. Instead, I took the coward’s way out and did my best to pretend I was asleep.
The next couple of minutes were among the most difficult I’d ever experienced. By now, there was no doubt that Hannah was humping herself against my leg. I could feel actual wetness against my thigh now, and the little girl’s breathing was becoming faster. That’s when I realized the storm had ended. There was a last peal of thunder, but it was far off and barely discernible. What was very discernible was Hanna’s knee, which was brushing back and forth against my balls, making sure that my cock remained quiveringly stiff. The one slight consolation was that something was holding her back from just reaching down and grabbing my junk. Of course, that just meant that the teasing went on and on. I was desperately afraid that she was going to grab my dick, and almost equally afraid that she never would.
Of course, she eventually did. Her hand continued to skitter downward, but it was flowing back and forth from one side of my stomach to the other, likely to slow her own downward progress until she’d worked up the nerve. First contact, if you will, occurred while she was lightly exploring the right side of my lower stomach. I could feel her forearm inching it’s way down past my navel and then it happened. I could only imagine what the fiery kiss of my cockhead must have felt like against the skin of her arm, but it was enough to stop her in her tracks. Even her slight humping motion ceased.
“Uncle Jason?” Hannah asked in a voice that a mouse would have been hard-pressed to hear. “Are you awake?”
I did my best to maintain my pretense of sleep, keeping my breathing slow and steady. After a moment, Hannah’s arm moved a bit back towards her, the tip of my cock continuing to brush against her. Her hand flattened against my groin and then she moved it downward, so that her forearm slid further down along the shaft of my cock. My cock jerked and she stiffened into stillness.
After a few more long moments, Hannah drew her hand even closer to her, until her wrist was pressed against my cock, then the heel of her hand, and finally, her sweaty palm. She didn’t make any attempt to explore me, seeming content for the moment to just lie there with her palm resting lightly upon my erection.
That didn’t last of course, and I’d had no illusions that it would. I just wasn’t quite sure what she’d do next, and I was mentally kicking myself for wondering what it would be instead of preventing it. The heat of her hand suddenly left me, and I had to struggle to keep my breathing steady as a sigh of disappointment threatened to escape me. Then I felt the bed shift, and then the sheet moving against me.
Until then, all of the action, as it were, had taken place underneath the sheet, but Hanna was either growing bolder or had another reason for sliding the bed covering downward. I risked a tiny peek through the slits of my eyelids and again had to struggle to keep my breathing steady. The storm, it seemed, had blown off quickly, and the combination of street lights and a nearly full moon was shining through the windows illuminating it to my dark sensitized eyes almost as brightly as if the lights were on.
What I saw was Hannah sitting cross-legged at my side, almost in profile to me. As the sheet slid the last little bit downward, fully exposing me, my niece stopped and stared at me, as I stared at her. Her golden hair was thrown back over her right shoulder, and her tiny breasts were fully on display. I’d had indications of what they would look like, especially in that wet t-shirt, but seeing her bare-chested was another matter.
As I may have mentioned, I’d always been intrigued by breasts. Big or small, round or pointy, real or fake, tits just sort of fascinated me. I’d always been partial to smaller ones, I must admit, but not as small as Hannah’s. Still, there had always been, to my mind, something about tiny, newly budding breasts which infatuated me. Hannah’s were just about the nicest I’d ever seen, although I’d seen very few nude preteen breasts, except for a couple of visits to European beaches in years past.
Hannah’s chest showed just the slightest of swelling. There was just enough there to let you know that the girl’s breasts were definitely growing, and not the result of a poor diet. Of course, given the slim femininity of Hannah’s body, that wouldn’t ever be a mistake someone would make. The areolas were a soft brown that was nearly pink, and they formed a conical little cap to the burgeoning mound beneath. They were about as big around as a quarter and stuck out perhaps an inch or so; maybe the size of half a large egg. The nipples themselves, stiff at the moment with excitement, were tiny, although not as small as a boy’s. Maybe the size of a pea. A small pea.
A downward glance showed me what I already knew I’d see, my smallish cock hovering stiffly over the small bush of pale blond hair between my legs. My flared glans was a bright pink, and glowing. I could see a shiny drop of precum just inside the slit there.
Hannah had apparently tired of waiting. As I continued to watch through barely slit eyelids, she reached forward and touched a finger to my hovering shaft. She pushed down on it, then watched my prick bounce back upward. Push, bounce, push, bounce. Seemingly satisfied, she slowly traced the thick central vein in my cock downward, and then back upward, pausing a moment in that delicious little circle of nerves just under the crown. Then she took the head gently between two fingers, squeezing carefully. I saw my pee-slit gaping open. She apparently did as well, as she lifted me upward to see better in the dim light.
With my cock being held upright, Hannah suddenly bent over, making her tiny breasts more pronounced. For a moment I thought she’d take me in her mouth, and I nearly gasped, but she just sniffed me a few times and then leaned back again.
Now her fingers slid down along my shaft again, and slowly curled around me, until I was wrapped in her small fist. I admit I was pleased by how large it looked in her tiny hand. She squeezed me lightly, then relaxed her grip as her fingers began to gently explore the length and width of me, first circling lightly back up around my spongy cockhead, squeezing and rubbing, and then down to gently explore my nuts. Her breath was practically stuttering with her excitement, and that was making it even more difficult for me to pretend I was still sleeping.
That’s when I noticed that her left elbow, which I could just see, was moving, which a moment later made me realize that her hand must be working in between her legs. Just as I had the thought, Hannah released my cock, which slapped against my belly before going back to it’s hovering position. She carefully rose to her knees, and I let my eyes drift even more closed as she glanced at my face. Then she was looking down as her hands went to her hips and she began to peel her panties downward.
Hannah was in almost perfect profile as her tiny panties slid down over her coltish thighs. Her ass was small and pert, but what drew my eye was the glimpse of her eleven-year-old vulva, which looked hairless and swollen. Going to her back, she carefully kicked off her panties and then spread her legs. My eyes opened wider, wanting the best view. She’d be unable to see my face from her angle, but it was difficult for me to see as well as I’d like without raising my head. Still, I did my best.
As I watched, Hannah slid her feet back, while her legs spread. I couldn’t see a single hair on her little mound, but the light wasn’t great and I wasn’t close enough to swear to it. Hannah’s hands went to her nascent breasts, lightly squeezing and then softly pinching and twisting her tiny nipples. A shudder went through her, which I felt through the bed. Then I watched as her hands slid down along her body, over her flat stomach, over her hairless mound, and in between her legs.
The area between my niece’s legs was shadowy, but I could see her fingers moving, sliding back and forth. I’m not sure if she penetrated herself or not. I knew a bit about young girls and masturbation from my own childhood with Carly. There’s a four year difference between us, but that didn’t stop my big sister from teasing me incessantly or from being openly sexual around me. Carly was a very sensual young girl and had no problems masturbating in front of me, often inviting me to look. She was the one who taught me how to masturbate when I was eleven, even though it would be years before I could ejaculate or even sprout a pubic hair. She even gave me my first blowjob when I was fourteen on a drunken dare from another model friend of her’s when they came to visit after a photo shoot in Milan. The friend thought I was adorable and she took my virginity while my cock was still wet with my sister’s saliva.
My sister wasn’t here now, but the sight of Hannah, who looked so much like her mother at that age, eagerly pleasuring herself had me quivering with lust. I was to the point where I felt I had to either attack the girl, or kick her out, when she reached out with her right hand and wrapped her fist around my stiff cock.
The eleven-year-old girl’s fingers continued to work between her legs as she awkwardly jacked my cock. It was fairly apparent she had never done it, but she seemed to know something at least, making me think she’d probably seen some porn, or at the very least heard some things from her friends. Girls tend to talk after all.
The girl’s small hand on my cock was exactly what I wanted, and the last thing I needed. Her skin was warm and electric and I could feel my balls tightening already as she clumsily stroked my erection. Now I really didn’t know what to do. Could I come? Well, I mean, of course I could come. In fact, if this went on much longer the question would be could I stop myself from coming. What I was trying to think about was the consequences of allowing myself to come. Surely I couldn’t fake sleeping while my cock fountained hot spunk. So how did that conversation go? Not good, I imagined.
In the meantime, my churning balls and Hannah’s little girl gasps and moans were driving me to distraction. I wanted desperately to shoot my load, and then to maybe get my cock inside that hairless little pussy. I lay there imagining it, my cock sliding between her virgin pussylips, the look of lust on her young face, and I shuddered. It was too much, and my thoughts scared the hell out of me.
Desperate for an out, I snorted and coughed. Hannah immediately went still beside me and she snatched her hand back from my cock. I groaned again, as if I were waking, and then I gave a tired sigh and slid my legs off the side of the bed while rising to sit. My cock was dripping precum, and my groin was wet with it. Achingly stiff, it preceded me as I walked ‘sleepily’ to the master bathroom.
Luckily, the toilet was out of sight of the door. Ten seconds of furious jacking and I was spraying a ball-aching load into the toilet. It was another thirty or forty seconds of concentration before I could make myself pee loudly into the bowl. I flushed and washed my hands and went back to the bedroom with my penis sticking straight out, half hard, still glowing with the feeling of release.
In the bed, Hannah lay on her left side, head on the pillow, sheet up around her neck. I felt bad that I’d interrupted the girl before she could come herself, but I felt I’d had to save myself. As I got into the bed, Hannah pretended to wake herself.
“I’m gonna go pee,” she said softly, and then she slid out of the bed. She walked across the room, either forgetting or uncaring of her exposed young breasts. Her panties were back in place, though. She was longer coming back than I’d been, and there was no mistaking her soft gasps and groans in the quiet of the house while she’d been in the bathroom. I was pretending to be asleep again when she finally returned to the bed.
End of part 3
Copyright 2018 – Rwxxx13
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