A Stormi Night Ch. 04

As we helped each other half-stagger from the basement sofa toward the stairs, my niece Stormi looked at the bar and asked, “I’ve never tried wine before. Can we have some with dinner?”

“I uh… I think you had enough today.”

“Please, Uncle Pete? Just one glass?”

It was nearly impossible for me to refuse the sexy young redhead anything. I sighed and answered, “Okay. Get a bottle of red from the bar. Red goes with meaty lasagna better than white.”

“Thanks, Pete! You’re the best!” She kissed my cheek and followed me upstairs with a large bottle. She was still wearing her new black panties and half-cup bustier, which left her small and perky nipples exposed. Even with oven mitts on her hands and a pack of cigs tucked into her cleavage, the sight was extremely arousing. I didn’t like wine much and had been drinking beer half the day, so I cracked open a can and sat at the table. She dished out one large plate of lasagna and said, “We’ll share it, like a date.” As she sat on my lap, squeezing my slowly growing cock between our thighs, she set a large glass of wine on the table next to my beer.

She picked up a forkful of steaming hot lasagna and held it near my lips as she blew to cool it. I loved the aroma, and loved seeing her luscious mouth so close to my face. When I thought it was cool enough, I opened my mouth wide. I took the tomato-and-cheesy bite in my mouth, then kissed her lips. She opened her mouth and I pushed about half past her teeth. We chewed with our lips pressed together, then swallowed. I had a sip of beer and she took a large drink from her glass. It was gone before long, and she refilled it.

When I thought about it later, the total added up to nine or ten, maybe even eleven. She’d had at least nine drinks in four hours! I was close to twice her weight, and not counting the can I partially finished, my total was eight.

After we French-kissed our way through half a plateful of tasty pasta, I started fondling one of her nipples. It was already fully erect, like my penis. I moved away from her lips long enough to say, “Take off your panties.” She did as I opened the front of my robe, then sat straddling me, with one of her thighs atop each of mine. As we returned to French kissing, I rocked my hips, sliding my rigid rod up and down her vulva. She moaned, “Ummmm! Please, Pete!”

I quickly thrust into her, but something felt wrong. There was a lot of resistance at first, but I knew she wasn’t a virgin. She exclaimed, “No! The tampon! OW!”

She was on her way to the bathroom by the time I finished apologizing and asked, “Sorry! I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

“Gimme a minute!”

“Do you want some help?”

“Ow! Oh no! The cramps are back, too! Ugh!”

“What ah… what do you need?”

“I can’t get it out! The string came off and I can’t reach it!”

“I… I have long fingers?”

“Urrh! The cramping! Mom’s a doctor. I need my Mom. Take me home.”

“Okay. I’ll get your clothes from upstairs.”

“The robe. Pants would be bad.”

“Sure, sure. No problem.” I quickly dressed in sweatpants, a t-shirt, and sandals, then brought her the pink bathrobe. I helped her put it on, then carried her to my car. Neither of us were thinking clearly, and she smoked a cigarette on the way to her parents’ house. I turned a bit too soon, running over the curb and some flowers when I pulled into their driveway.

As I carried her to the front door, Stormi said, “My keys are in my jeans, back at your place.”

I rang the doorbell and her little sister Summer opened the door. She was a cute little blonde who would start middle school in the fall. She asked, “Why is Uncle Pete carrying you?”

I told her, “Stormi has a problem. Go get your mother.”

Instead of walking, Summer shouted, “MOM! COME HELP! STORMI’S HURT!”

I sighed in annoyance, then set Stormi down on the living room sofa. Their mother Helen ran downstairs, also wearing a bath robe. She urgently asked, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Stormi motioned and said, “Closer, Mom.”

As her eldest daughter whispered in her ear, Helen’s face quickly reddened and her jaw clenched. She said, “Go to your room, Summer. Now!” Once the pre-teen was safely out of earshot, Helen slowly and icily told me, “I will call you tomorrow. Go home.”

“I want to help her.”

“You bring her home stinking of wine and cigarettes, and after what you did! JUST GO! If you’re too drunk to drive, call a cab.” I thought a moment, then pulled out my cell phone. Driving on the lawn was bad enough. I didn’t want to hurt anybody.

I sat in a chair by the front door, waiting for the taxi, while Helen helped her in the bathroom. I pondered how our day had gone from a sexy then shocking morning, to a loving and euphoric afternoon, then an awful night. Even more awful, as I was walking out the door, I heard an intoxicated Stormi shout, “You and my aunts did, so I can too!”

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