She rose onto her elbows. “Uncle Jeff, it’s really hurting when you rub against my shirt. It feels like rug burn. Should I take my top off? Could you use some oil or something?”
“I, ah, well, I, ah… ” I stammered.
She twisted around and looked up at me. “It’s alright. I know you’re not trying anything. I trust you.”
“As long as you’re okay with it then, yes, bare skin would be better. You do that while I get some oil.”
I went for some baby oil in the hall closet and got a jolt when I came back to her room. She’d taken both her top and her jeans off and lay there in bra and panties as if it was the most natural thing to do in front of her uncle. I poured some oil into my hands to warm it, all the while staring across the room instead of at my niece’s body. I was determined to not let her curves and porcelain skin affect me. I smoothed the oil across her shoulders and neck, then down her lower back, avoiding her underwear as best I could.
“I should take my bra off. I don’t want oil all over it.”
“Emma, I don’t… ”
She rose onto her elbows again and looked at me. “What?”
“Emma, I’m really afraid we might have a repeat of that night with the movie.”
Her brow furrowed. “The movie?” Then she realised what I was getting at. “Oh, that movie.” She looked at my crotch then back up at me and shrugged. “It’s okay, Uncle Jeff, you’re only human.” She gave me a wide grin. “You can’t help it if I have a hot bod.”
“Jeez, feel free to embarrass me a little more if you can.”
“Aww, I’m sorry. No, really, it’s okay. It is what it is. Biology 101, right?”
“You’re being awfully casual about it, Emma. Are you sure it won’t bother you if it happens?”
She shook her head, then lay face-down on the bed. “It won’t, not one bit. Can you undo it for me, please?”
My hands shook as I fumbled with the clasp. When she felt it loosen, she worked her arms up out of the straps, pulled it out from under her and dropped it on the floor. As she lay there, her head on her arms, her breasts bulged out either side of her. Their smooth roundness instantly brought the blood flowing. Within moments I was hard as a rock. I coughed and cleared my throat.
“It’s okay, Uncle Jeff.”
I got back to work, concentrating as much as possible on the knotted muscles, kneading and pressing, feeling the stress slowly ebb from her body. She groaned now and then if I worked an especially tight area but as time passed, she grew quieter. Thankfully, when I worked her neck and shoulders she brought her arms to her sides, covering that fold of skin under her breast that, for me, has always been one of the most erotic parts of a woman.
I’d been at it for almost half an hour, working down toward her waist, squeezing the stress out of her like toothpaste from a tube. I was at the base of her spine, just about done when she tugged her panties down off her hips.
“Can you go just a little bit lower, please? It feels really good across my hips.” I moved down, massaging the fleshy curves at the top of her ass.
“Is that okay?”
She moaned, face-down on the bed, rolled her hips, and brought her arms under herself. I kept at it, staying just above the waistband of her panties. She moaned again, her hips flinched, and I noticed her arms moving under her. Was she…? I stepped away but heard her muffled voice order me to keep going. It was pretty clear what she was doing. I should have stopped but couldn’t; I was hypnotized by it, by her boldness. I kept working her hips, pressing deeply as her arms moved underneath her. She moaned again, and this time the muscles in her ass and thighs drew taut. She moaned louder, rolling her hips against the pressure of my hands. Her movements became more urgent. Her feet rose off the bed, toes curled. Suddenly her whole body shuddered, and a gush of water soaked the crotch of her panties.
“Emma?”
She turned her face away from me, her breath ragged. “I – I need you to go now, please. Please. Sorry, I really need you to leave right now.”
I closed her door quietly and went to wash the oil off my hands. Sweet Jesus, did that really happen? Did my niece climax while I gave her a massage? She did that right in front of me, and I let her? I looked down at my crotch. My cock was stiff as a rod. Yes, it was all over for me now, there was no hope; I was going to burn in eternal fire for ever more.
Once again, I was at the kitchen table with my morning coffee. She drifted into the room wearing a terrycloth bathrobe pulled tightly around her, hugging herself. When our eyes met, her cheeks flushed bright red. She sat down across from me.
“Good morning, Emma,” I said quietly.
“Good morning,” she whispered.
“Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
As I got up to get her a mug, she started into it. “Uncle Jeff, I owe you an explanation,” she said to my back. I sat down across from her again and handed her the coffee.
“Emma, you don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to. What happened last night is your own business, no one else’s.”
“No, I need to tell you why I did it. I mean… you do know what happened, right?”
“I have a pretty good idea, yes,” I nodded.
She covered her blushing cheeks with her hands. “It was… umm… ” She puffed her cheeks and let the words spill out in a steady stream. “I’ve been super stressed this last week. I haven’t slept much, and this session of exams really has me wired, you know? The more relaxed I got, the more I wanted to, you know, let it out. It was wrong to do it, I know that, and I’m sorry, but I needed it so badly. Fucking hell, that was the best massage I’ve ever had. I couldn’t hold back.” She buried her face in her hands. “God, this is so embarrassing.”
I sat back, arms crossed, one hand over my mouth. I was trying desperately not to laugh but couldn’t hide the grin.
She looked straight at me. “Go ahead. Laugh all you want, ha, ha.”
I reached for her hand. “C’mon, Emma, you gotta admit that was funny. A massage so good it made you cum?”
“Okay, maybe, but it’s still fucking embarrassing!”
“Hey, it’s alright. Nobody’s ever going to hear it from me, I can guarantee you that much. And I suppose living under the same roof this way, we’re sure to find out things about each other that we might find, um, unexpected, let’s say. In my books, that’s not so terrible. Like I told you, no judgement, not from me.”
She got up and I watched her come around to my side of the table. She bent down, wrapped her arms around me and planted a big kiss on my cheek. “Thanks, Uncle Jeff, you’re the best. I’m so glad I’m here. This feels more and more like my real home.” She gave me one more kiss and headed back upstairs before I could tell her I felt the same way. Having her here was one of the best things to happen to me in a long, long time.
It was the second week of exams. I barely saw her from day to day. If she wasn’t upstairs studying, she was on campus writing or researching, coming home exhausted. We’d have brief conversations over morning coffee or a quick dinner but otherwise, she was practically a ghost. I did keep tabs on her and brought a tray of biscuits and tea to her room when I thought she needed a break. There hadn’t been a repeat massage session. I certainly wasn’t going to suggest it and I imagined she wasn’t in a hurry to relive the memory.
Late one night, in bed, a slideshow of her time with me was running through my head – visions of her in that bathing suit, those t-shirts, the feel of her breasts against my arm, the memory of her climaxing in front of me…. It was dark, only the dim lights of the city coming through the windows. Without thinking beyond immediate need, I kicked the sheets back and used the images of her curves, and the feel of her body to bring myself to the edge. I was stroking fast, breathing hard when I heard the bathroom door close and realised I’d left my own door open. Fuck! I jumped up and closed the door as quietly as I could. I climbed back into bed, frustrated, and fearful that she’d seen me. Great, another restless night.
Emma was a lot quieter than usual over the next few days and spent most of her time in her room. The way she avoided my eyes and kept our conversations to a minimum confirmed that, yes, she had seen me jerking off with my bedroom door wide open. I was no doubt back in the ‘pervy uncle’ category. This time, though, there was no obvious way of dealing with it. How do you talk to your niece about something like that? I hoped that, in time, the memory would fade, and we’d get back to normal.
A few more days passed and once again I was surfing the channels with a shot of my best whiskey to keep me company when she came in and slumped down into the couch. Her eyes had a sort of glazed look, with dark circles. She stared at the television, silent.
Hoping to rebuild our connection, I reached over and lightly patted the leg she had tucked under herself. “Hey, are you okay? You look all-in.”
To my great relief, she slid across the couch and leaned into me, her head on my shoulder. “This is it, Uncle Jeff. I write the last one tomorrow. There’s nothing more I can do to get ready. After it’s done, I’m coming home to die of exhaustion. You should call the coroner’s, give ’em a heads-up.”
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