14 comments/  144212 views/  32 favorites

Grandpa’s Nude Day: Past & Present

By: scouries



This is my official 2010 LITEROTICA Nude Day Contest entry. It’s a contest where you the reader gets to vote on all the contest submissions. I welcome your vote!

It’s rather longer than my ordinary submission, more than 4 LITEROTICA pages long, but I believe (and hope) that there’s something in it for everyone. All the characters in the story are over 18 years of age. WARNING: This story includes descriptions of sex between siblings and between a grandfather and his granddaughter.

Please ENJOY!



THE PRESENT Thursday, June 3rd 2010 Philip’s Creek, Upstate New York

Sixty fucking years old! Un–fucking–believable! There is no way I can be this old I thought to myself after hanging up the phone. Nancy, my fifty-eight year old sibling, little Nancy for crying out loud, had been the tenth person who’d already called to congratulate me. Congratulations, yeah right! There’d been a smile in most of their voices as they’d wished me many happy returns, an underlying tone that both teased and conveyed a little pity. Especially from the younger generation. From the nieces and nephews and even more so from the grand nephews and nieces.

“Poor old Uncle Joe. Can he really be that old?” I’d heard repeatedly even though it had been unstated. 

My sister Nancy had even thrown in a Viagra joke. And she’s an old broad in her fifties. Ha, ha sis, I’d thought to myself as she’d chuckled into her phone at her older brother. As if she had any doubts about my ability to attain, and maintain, an erection. She’d been lucky she hadn’t been within penis distance when she’d made her comment. Husband or no husband!

“She has never once in her fifty-eight years seen a bigger penis,” I announced out loud to the world. Of course, sitting on the porch of the house my great-grandfather had started building over one hundred years earlier, a now summer family retreat nestled on the edge of an isolated wood and facing out across a slowly meandering creek and the fields and orchard beyond, no one could hear me.

“Can’t get a fucking hard-on,” I scoffed as I stood up from the rocker I’d been sitting in for the last thirty minutes. “Look at this,” I challenged as I pushed my bathing suit down my tanned thighs and exposed myself to any watching wildlife.

“A shaft of steel,” I announced to Mount Connelly, the three thousand foot high mountain which defined the western edge of the Philip’s family land.

“A marauding colossus, a coed conquistador,” I added as my fingers closed around my now straining shaft. Then my hand and arm started to move in a ritual that I’d been practicing for some forty-five years. 

“The scourge of Adirondack womanhood,” I yelled as my palm flew up and down my shaft. I was getting close, could sense the building up of the semen, was eagerly anticipating the first jerk, the first explosive rush of cum up my straining, birthday celebrating prick, when my cell phone announced another call. 

“FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I screamed even as my free hand involuntarily reached down for the phone I’d dropped atop my bathing suit when I’d shucked it. My right hand, my masturbating hand, slowed as I checked the caller ID on my iPhone. My older sister’s picture popped up on the screen. After hesitating a sec I pushed talk.

“I’m very busy right now,” I announced into the phone. But I flicked the video button on.

“Napping?” Susan Ann Kramer nee Philips asked. My big sister didn’t even try to hide her accompanying laugh. There was no way I was going to let her get away with that!

“Ha, ha. Actually my dear older sister I’ve been exercising Sir Joe,” I answered as I continued to slowly stroke myself.

My sister, even at sixty-two, is still pretty sharp. In fact, after being her sibling for sixty years, I was still trying to get the last word in. 

“I thought they put ‘Sir Joe’ in a retirement home. I’m sure Nancy told me that the last time we talked. A place called ‘Limp Acres’ or something.” 

“Oh did you?” I asked as I took the phone from my ear and held it for a second so that a good shot of my cock was transmitted the over six hundred miles to where she was sitting smiling in her suburban living room. I’d decided that a picture of ‘Sir Joe’ would be worth a thousand words.

“Pig!” I heard when I moved the phone back to my ear.

“Hah!”

“You’ll never grow up,” she accused. “You’re like a little boy with a toy.”

“A toy, if I remember rightly, a certain big sister once liked to play with,” I challenged back.

“It still worked in those days,” Susie shot back.

“Oh, so you’re saying you don’t want to see him working again?”

Susan hesitated. I moved the phone back down towards my genitals. Then I held it just inches away from my cockhead. “Give him a birthday kiss,” I enticed, my hand now flying over my tumescent shaft. 

“Pervert,” Susie accused even as her lips approached her phone and puckered up into a kiss. As I watched her lips kissing the screen of her phone she saw the first string of sixty year old cum spurt out of my cock and splash towards her. Hear head jerked back.

It was many seconds before either of us broke the silence. “You’re a sicko,” my big sister accused in her sexiest whisper.  

“I wish you were here, so does ‘Sir Joe’,” I groaned back, my orgasm still tingling throughout my body, a thick strand of cream hanging from my cock’s one eye.

“We’ll be up there for July 4th.” I knew she would have loved to help me celebrate my birthday, to have been able to lick me clean.

“Show me your pussy, a sexy, hairy birthday pussy for your little brother,” I lured in my neediest voice. And after a moments hesitation she did. I watched as she, sitting on the couch, the curtains of her living room open, slowly and sexily pulled the hem of the summer dress she was wearing slowly up her legs. I watched as she lifted her still cute bum and slipped her frilly white panties down her thighs. Watched as she held the cell phone inches from her already glistening slit as she spread her legs wide.

My hand was back on my cock as my sister slowly pushed a finger between the flower shaped lips of her sex. Lips a virgin ‘Sir Joe’ had slipped through for the first time more than forty years earlier.

“SHIT!” I yelled as looking up I saw the dust rising from the road that crossed from the west side of the valley, the road that led only to my front door.

“What?” my sister asked down the line. I couldn’t miss the needy pant that was always in her voice when she was sexually aroused.

“Someone’s coming,” I told her as I watched the car far in the distance. I leaned over and grabbed the bathing suit from the floor.

“So am I,” my sister answered, two fingers now deep inside herself.

“It’s your granddaughter,” I said as I covered myself.

“Amanda? She’s finished school already?” she asked as I turned to go into the house to grab a shirt.

“Last week. She called to ask if she could come out for a few days. She promised to cook me dinner. Birthday cake and all,” I added as I went to the sink and splashed some cool spring water across my face. Then reached for the cologne. 

“Is she bringing her boyfriend?” 

“Todd? No, not today but apparently he’s coming for her Saturday, they’ve got some big event planned.” As I talked to my sister I watched her still ministering fingers, fingers still working deep inside her sex, even as I pulled a light blue cashmere pullover up and over my head.

“Show me your cock ... hurry,” she begged, her orgasmic release obviously close. 

“You hurry, she’ll be here in a minute,” I answered as I let my cock escape upwards from its confinement. As I held the phone in front of my penis my eyes followed Amanda’s car as it slowly approached on the rough road that followed the creek. 

Her grandmother had cum, cum loudly in fact, and my penis had been safely hidden away, when Amanda finally pulled her car up next to mine. A welcoming smile on my face, I was standing on the porch waiting.

Amanda

Amanda Philips Kramer Weaver, the daughter of Bill Weaver and my niece, granddaughter of my sister Susie, had been born twenty-one years ago. Tall, blond and blue eyed, she, like so many of the Philips girls, had inherited the Swedish DNA that a certain Ingrid Svenson had introduced into the family gene pool when she’d married my grandfather one hundred plus years ago. 

Amanda was special! She always had been from the moment she’d appeared. Among the extended Philips family circle, the children and grandchildren of my sisters Susie and Nancy and other assorted first cousins of mine, a clan that numbered nearly eighty people, she stood out. There was a presence to her, a charisma, an obvious niceness, an aura that enveloped her and emanated out from her. 

The second she’d enter a room a momentary lull occurred, a lull that was immediately followed by an involuntary smile appearing on everyone’s face. There was a smile on my face as she uncurled her tall frame from the front seat of her car.

“Hey,” she said as she rushed up the three steps that led up to the large veranda that fronted the full width of the house. 

“Hey you,” I answered back as I held out my arms in welcome and then closed them around her as she threw herself into them. A kiss on each of my cheeks was followed by a squeezing hug and then a real kiss on my lips. Not a sexual kiss. Just a full, complete, giving and loving family kiss.

“Happy Birthday,” she said when she’d finished her unhurried kiss. Then gave me another quick peck. “Ummm, you smell good,” she whispered as she nestled her head against my cheek.

“Your mother sent me a bottle of cologne. By Armani.”

“She did? Mom? No way.” 

“Uh huh, something called Acqua Di Gio. Supposed to make me irresistible to woman, that’s what she wrote on the birthday card anyway,” I answered as I delighted in the feel of Mandy’s firm, young body plastered against me. Of the full breasts that insistently pushed into my chest.

“I thought you already were. At least that’s the rumours I’ve always heard, Great Uncle Joe and his endless string of pretty coeds,” she teased. 

“Who said that?” I asked, her comment not hitting far from the truth.

“Mom ... grandma ... Aunt Nancy ... Jillian ... Cathy...” my great niece answered as she ticked off the various family names on her fingers.

“They never did, you’re making it up,” I accused.

“No we used to talk about you, when we were growing up, whenever we got together up here in the summer, we used to talk about Uncle Joe all the time. As if you didn’t know.”

“You did?” 

Amanda ignored my comment, instead said, “New sweater too ... soft,” as her fingers lightly caressed my cashmere covered arm and chest as she moved away from me.

“Cashmere. Your grandmother.”

“Grandma Susie gave it to you?”

“Uh huh. And she tucked a bottle of Viagra in one sleeve,” I said with a frown. Not one hundred percent true but I knew it would get a rise out of my pretty niece.

“What!” erupted in a shrill squeal from the young beauties mouth. “She didn’t? Did she?”

I liked all my great nephews and nieces. All the grandchildren of my two sisters. But I loved Amanda best. I always had. From the second she’d been born. How could I not? She was my granddaughter...

Amanda’s mother had never known who her father was. In fact she never would. It was Susie’s and my secret. A dark Philip’s family secret that stretched back over forty years. A secret we’d both kept since Amanda’s mother had left Susie’s womb and slipped down my sister’s channel and out into the world. 

Amanda and I talked that night. All through the preparation and eating of the gourmet meal she’d somehow managed to prepare with minimal supplies. And later as we sipped our way through two bottles of the finest wine in front of the fire.

We talked about the family. We reminisced, reminiscences that invariably brought smiles or giggles or hearty chuckles to our lips. Memories. Family memories.

She teased me about my age. 

We talked about her schooling, about the travails of her trying to get through medical school. Something I could empathize with simply by remembering the years I’d spent as a student at Columbia so many years before.

“It’s all your fault,” she’d finally complained as we sat side by side on the sofa, facing the fireplace and the red hot embers that were all that was left of the fire that had been blazing all evening.

“My fault?” I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. “How come?”

“I never would have gone into medicine if it hadn’t been for you. You should never have given me that stethoscope and anatomy textbook.”

I laughed, remembering the look of surprise and delight on the twelve year olds face when she’d opened her Christmas present so many years ago. I’d also given her a white doctor’s coat that day and she’d spent the rest of that holiday season wearing it, the stethoscope around her neck. She’d driven us all nuts in the subsequent days with her never ending demand to listen to our heartbeats. A dream had been born, a dream I’d continued to nourish all throughout her teenage years. She’d been born to be a caregiver. 

“Everyone else gave you lipstick and earrings, clothes, cd’s, you first bra,” I remembered.

“I could be getting an M.B.A., getting ready to make millions on Wall Street,” she said ruefully but with a smile. We both knew that was the last thing she would have ever wanted to do.

“Yes but just think my dear, in a couple of years you’ll be back in the North Country, at the side of your favourite Great Uncle, ministering to the sick, saving lives ...”

“I’d have some sort of social life in M.B.A. school ...and I’ve never said I was coming back up here to practise.” 

“Where else would you go?” I asked as I planted a kiss on her forehead.

“You never know,” she said even as she snuggled closer to me. I knew!

We talked on and on that night. She even broached the state of my health. “So, are you healthy? You’ve had your checkup?”

“My ten year one,” I agreed. “Went over to the Mayo Clinic. They told me I was perfect ... for a sixty year old,” I added ruefully.

“You are perfect,” Amanda agreed, “but given your age you will probably have to give up your little twenty year old coeds.” The comment was followed by a teasing smile, then a quick kiss on my cheek before she settled back against me.

Every female member of my family seemed to think they could get away with teasing me. They all learned eventually. “No, I’m all fine down there too. They told me I have the heart and lungs of a twenty-five year old and the sexual drive and performance of an eighteen year old. At least that’s what their tests showed,” I said modestly if not one hundred percent truthfully.

“I’ll bet,” she challenged back but I could sense her excitement and didn’t miss the hard, knobby bumps pushing through her sweater. Sex with my granddaughter?

“And how’s your health? Your checkups all okay?” My question was asked casually, more to change the subject than anything else, so I almost missed the delay before she answered.

Her hesitating, “yah ... fine ... I’m sorta due for a checkup,” and the way she quickly turned away when I looked at her, triggered the doctors alarms I’d honed over thirty-five years of medicine. She couldn’t be sick could she, I wondered. But sensing her reluctance to talk about it I decided not to push it, knowing I’d have other chances to broach the subject over the next few days.

I dreamt of my granddaughter that night. I dreamt of her naked, in my bed, my cock deep inside her. And tangled in with that dream was another, a dream of remembrance, of my big sister and how I’d lost my virginity to her in the same room I was still sleeping in forty-two years later. I masturbated as I remembered... and my cock didn’t feel like it was sixty years old when the creamy sperm rushed up its hard shaft. As it rushed in a torrent into my dream sister and my dream granddaughter.

And, with the sexual tension relieved, I was able to resist the temptation to walk down the hall to the bedroom where my beautiful granddaughter lay. But I couldn’t help wondering if she was dreaming of me.

Friday, June 11th 2010 Philip’s Creek, Upstate New York

Amanda prepared breakfast the next morning. While I, the elder statesman, fished! And of course she’d laughingly complained that it wasn’t fair that she was haaaving to do aaaall the domestic chores when she’d plonked my plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and French toast in front of me.

An hour later, sporting our bathing suits, we wandered down to the swimming pond. 

“Wow! Where’d you get these?” she asked the second she saw my new lawn furniture.

“I splurged, a birthday gift to myself,” I admitted with a smile as I admired the four new, gleaming, stainless steel, double chaise lounges that had been delivered two weeks earlier. A sleek, curving European design that seemed an affront to the Adirondack chairs that were so typical of the area. Each was topped off by a thick, foam cushion.

“You’re going South Beach on us in your old age Uncle Joe,” she teased, then added, “We can share,” as she leapt on the closest one. Who was I to argue? I dutifully followed, a tube of sunscreen in hand. 

“Turn over,” I ordered as I undid the cap.

“I can do it,” Amanda answered but then obeyed me. I’d been making sure she, and all her siblings and cousins, were protected from the sun since she’d been a baby. And over the years I had applied bottles of the stuff to her skin, a Great Uncle’s duty that had only been interrupted by the shyness of the onset of puberty and her teenage years.

So I took my time in administering the thick cream to the milky white, baby soft skin of her back. I was cautious at first, trying to rekindle the old familial feelings even as my fingers explored the body of a mature, ripe young woman. 

And the purring breathes that softly escaped from her lips as my hands caressed the sperm like lotion across her back and thighs simply encouraged me to linger even longer. It wasn’t quite sexual, instead it still was a doting grand uncle (as she knew me) applying sunscreen to his niece, but it was darn close to crossing the line. My cock had already crossed the line!

And as my fingers mover over her upper thighs, as they stroked right up to the spot where the Brazilian cut panties of her bikini ended, I felt a tremor moving under her skin even as her hips rose an inch from the mattress while her legs spread slightly, an involuntary and unconscious invitation that signalled how sexually ready she was.

“You still have soft, strong hands,” she purred even as her perfectly proportioned rear pushed up even harder against my hand. 

“A doctor has to have soft hands my dear,” I answered as I placed one palm on each of Amanda’s rounded globes. After a gentle squeeze, a borderline sexual squeeze, and just as I was getting ready to cross that line, to pull the thin cloth down and bare her pretty bum, my phone chirped out its dial tone. It was just after one. My cock was huge. 

My nurse, or more correctly the university nurse, was on the line. Small emergency. Could I come in? 

When I’d gone to Medical School forty years earlier it had never been my plan to come back to the North Country after I’d graduated. Instead I’d envisioned myself in a big hospital, emulating the TV doctors who’d been my first inspiration.  The Ben Casey’s and Dr. Wildares of the television world.

I’d grown up on the edge of a small town, a town of less than five hundred people, a town nestled at the head of a five mile lake, a deep lake gouged out of the landscape when the glaciers had retreated from North America hundreds of thousands of years ago. The town that had owed its continued existence to the tourists visiting from the big cities, from Boston and New York primarily, tourists who came for the fishing and hiking in the Spring and Summer, and for the hunting and the foliage during the Fall.


Grandpa’s Nude Day: Past & Present



The Philips land, the homestead my great grandfather had settled a hundred years earlier, had been eight miles away, halfway between my father’s modest house and the University town of Kilmer farther to the west. My father, the Manager of the University’s Maintenance Department, travelled the fifteen miles to Kilmer every work day.

I eventually graduated high school, then I went to New York City, for premed at Columbia and then on to their  Medical School, and what I thought then would be a future spent anywhere but in the sleepy town of Kilmer deep in the Adirondacks.

But things happen! I’d spent a few of my university days summers working with old Doc McNeil in Kilmer, a man who ran a general practice in town as well as being under contract as the M.D. for the University. So when he suddenly died during the last months of my residency I was the first person they contacted.

My mom had happened to get sick that spring and I’d just broken up with a girl from Boston I’d thought I might marry. Six plus years in New York City had somehow dulled the glamour of the world’s greatest city.  

And so, surprising even myself, on the spur of the moment I’d accepted the University’s offer. I’d taken their offer of the large house that housed a modern medical clinic on the ground floor and the fifteen hundred feet of living space above. A house that sat almost majestically on the edge of the verdant campus.  I’d settled in Kilmer, a town with a population of some three thousand locals that was augmented during school term by the twenty-two hundred students that arrived each fall from all over the country.

And I’d never regretted the decision! So when duty called, even if it meant removing my hands from my granddaughter’s cute tush, I answered the call. Besides, Amanda loved the idea of a trip to the office she’d one day occupy.

Paola and Amanda on the Examination Table

Paola was about twenty, a Summer School student from Italy, here to learn English for six weeks, a dark skinned beauty whose curves seemed to explode from the bright shorts and tank top she was wearing that day. Both of her knees were bleeding, one arm had an angry looking scrape and her cheek had a nasty gash. She was limping and when she turned to sit on my examination table I saw that her pink shorts had a large tear at her right hip. She was a mess. A bicycle fall!

But when she gave me a shy smile and said ‘ciao doctore’ I almost melted. She was gorgeous. Ripe! Youth! 

Amanda helped me remove Paola’s top and skirt. Her bra, a frilly, lace trimmed, semi see through piece of material that was severely under engineered for the weight it had to support, had splotches of blood marring its embroidered European design. 

“It cost thirty Euros,” the young beauty complained in her delightfully accented English as she examined it, then, without being bidden to, reached behind her back and unclasped the small clip that was all that had been restraining the two magnificent globes that were unleashed and which spilled out in a cascade of flesh.

I’m sure that Paola heard the gulp that I tried to swallow before it escaped, and also caught the un-doctorly, lustful look that flashed momentarily in my eyes. Her shy smile carried a knowing sexuality that confirmed that she was a girl who’d been getting looks like this for years. And enjoying them.

“Will it be okay doctore?” she asked as turned slightly to the right, exposing the side of her left breast, a breast she cupped and lifted, revealing a small scrape that ran just from the edge of her dark aureole down the side of the large,  firm , upright orb. Her nipple, a large, dark nub, arching upward and erect, seemed to be ready for takeoff from the aureole it rose from.

Even after more than thirty years of examining patients I wasn’t able to hold back the second small gasp. She smiled shyly. She knew!

Ultimately my granddaughter and I washed her scrapes, disinfected them, put three stitches in her chin and then bandaged her various wounds before we let her go thirty minutes later. I even applied a small Band-Aid to her magnificent breast. My medical professionalism only just prevented me from giving it a ‘get better’ kiss.

I told her I expected her back in a week. A quick kiss on my cheek, a squeeze, a “thank you doctore”, and she was gone.

“Now I know why you took this job,” Amanda accused with a wry smile after our patient had left.

“What?” I asked with a grin. But the truth was, it was examinations like the one I’d just performed, that had kept me happy in Kilmer for some thirty-five years.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh doctooooooorrrrrrrreeeeee!” my granddaughter cooed as she arched her back and pushed her breasts out. Perhaps not Paolian breasts but as I was about to discover they had their own allure.

“There are fringe benefits to every job my dear,” I answered smugly. “Just wait until you have some of our fine male athletes up on your examining table, their firm, muscular bodies bared before you, their youthful excitement at being treated by the beautiful, blond doctor oh so painfully evident.”

“Yuck!” But we were both smiling. 

“Alright my dear little grand niece, now it’s your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

“When was the last time you said you’d had a full physical?”

“I’m a doctor,” she answered, delaying but not rejecting my offer. During our talk the night before she’d admitted she hadn’t had a real physical in over two years. She’d admitted it in a shy, almost embarrassed way. I hadn’t followed it up at the time.

As for me I hadn’t given Amanda a physical since she was twelve. My daughter and her husband had moved away that year and even though they spent most of their summers at Philips Creek (she and her siblings and her mom anyway) the start of Amanda’s passage through puberty had led them to a new doctor in their new city.

“It’s been awhile,” my granddaughter admitted as she sat facing me on the examination table. There was that hint of nervousness that a male doctor so often hears in a female patient’s voice as she prepares to disrobe. Knowing what she might be feeling, I turned away, her file in my hand, a file that I’d last entered any data into some nine years earlier. 

“Why?” I challenged, “You know better, you’re a doctor for crying out loud.”

“He made me feel uncomfortable,” Amanda said to my back. I turned back to see her pushing her shorts down her thighs. Her top had already been removed.

“Here, I’ll hang them,” I offered as I took the shorts from her fingers and grabbed the top. “Your doctor?”

“It was over two years ago. The young doctor at the university. He wasn’t trying to ... but I could feel it... that he was excited ... and with my legs in the stirrups I felt so vulnerable...” Amanda unclasped her bra as she talked. A second later her panties, soft white and pale blue striped cotton panties, joined her matching bra on the table. Unlike Paola who’d shaved her mound clean, Amanda’s sex was hidden by a perfect triangle of blond curls.

“Didn’t you say something?” You’re training to be a doctor, you should have, was left unsaid but understood by her.

“He was good looking ... I was--” She saw that I understood. She’d been excited. A not uncommon occurrence for a female patient while lying on a doctor’s table.

“Well, you’ve certainly grown some,” I said as I motioned Amanda towards the scale. Always tall and lithe, even perhaps skinny as a teen, she was now, at twenty-one, a woman. A beautiful mature woman. 

“I haven’t grown as much as Paola,” she complained as she cupped her hands under her breasts. It was said in that teenage girl’s manner, pretending one thing while really hoping to invite a compliment.

I laughed. They may have been smaller than the Italians but my granddaughter’s breasts were perfect! “Yes, I think Paola’s were blessed by the Pope,” I answered with a leer as I measured her height.

“You’re terrible,” she accused.

Her nipples, puffy nipples that rose from small circles of light pink, hardened as I used a tape to measure her various dimensions. I noted down the figures for her chest, her waist and her hips, numbers that just confirmed her hourglass shape. 

“You do examine your breasts regularly?” I asked as I used callipers to measure the fat on her underarms, her thighs and her stomach. It wasn’t necessary for someone as fit as Amanda but it was important to establish a baseline for subsequent examinations in the years to come.

She nodded yes as I let her back to the examination table, then, knowing the routine, she lay back as my right hand moved onto her breast. I did the examination quickly, professionally. But we were both nervous, both excited. I wrote a few notes on her examination chart.

It’s very strange for a man, a doctor, to sit between his granddaughters bare legs, her sex open before him. I’ve learned in my thirty some years of doctoring that there’s a level of sexual excitement, of arousal, of fear, in every woman who lies on the back on my examination table, a prisoner to the stirrups that hold her in place.

And while we’ve been trained to ignore it, to instead perform every act and touch in a cold, almost robotic manner, every doctor, somewhere in their psyche, is likewise excited. Who silently thrills to the power of male dominance that course through them. And of course most women can somehow sense their doctor’s arousal. 

Women who all their lives have been taught to cover themselves from the eyes of men are forced to lie open before a stranger in this annual or biannual ritual of genital examination. And while I’d say I’ve tried over the years to be the most professional of doctors with my patients, and while I insist that my nurse is always present during these examinations, I’ve still felt the skin of a thousand patients tremble, quiver under my touch. And heard their voices waver and even crack as they attempt to ask their questions while I’m probing with my instruments inside them.

And I’ve enjoyed feeling that quiver of excitement, enjoyed hearing the thin echo of fear in their voices. 

My granddaughter is a doctor. She is being trained as I had been. She understood what I was doing, why I was doing it, and why it was important. And yet, as my hands moved to adjust her thighs, I felt that telltale trembling coursing up and down her inner thigh. And smelt her excitement. And noticed her wetness. 

Her vagina was open.

And my cock was rock hard.  

And yet, as both our bodies were betraying us, we talked, professional observations going back and forth: 

“When was your last period? 
 “How sexually active have you been? 
“How many partners?
“Have you performed Oral sex on your partner? 
“Are you on birth control pills?
“Does your partner always wear a condom?
“Anal sex?

She was frank in discussing her sexuality, her training letting her answer more freely than would a normal patient. But as she told her great uncle about how often she engaged in sex, she still wasn’t able to control the tell tale blush that appeared in her cheeks. Nor quell the hardness of her nipples.

I slowly examined her vulva, this examination of a woman’s external genitalia that often gives the patient the time to relax somewhat before the actual penetration of her vagina. This looking for warts or ulcers or scars or swelling only a prelude to the invasive speculum that was to follow. 

“Have you had a Pap smear lately?
“You haven’t, why not?
“Any problems with your period? 

I slowly brought the speculum, a prewarmed and lubricated speculum, towards Amanda’s groin. I saw her acknowledgement of the instrument in her eyes, knew that she’d let me know if I caused her any pain or if there was a problem. But even with her being a Doctor I noticed the involuntary tightening of her vaginal muscles, the attempt at rejection, as I carefully slid the instrument inside her. I talked softly to her as I widened the probes jaws. Her breathing was different when I shone my light up deep inside her redness.

Then, after I’d removed the instrument from her vagina, my fingers, I used two in my granddaughter’s case, slipped slowly inside Amanda as I continued to ask my questions. Her sleeve, moist and open allowed my fingers total access as they probed towards her ovaries. “Okay?” I asked, looking up after hearing a slight gasp from Amanda. My other hand probed across her abdomen.

“Uh huh,” she whispered in a little girls voice.  

It was over quickly. But five minutes later, with my granddaughter dressed and sitting across the desk from me, I could still feel the lingering effects of my erection.

An erection that, of itself, hadn’t been either good or bad, perverted or sick, it had simply been. My penis couldn’t have cared less that it was related to the person in question. That’s not how pricks were designed!

*****

“I’m meeting him there tomorrow.”

“Todd?” Amanda nodded yes. We were sitting on the couch in front of the fire again, wine glasses in hand, later that night . We were sitting a little farther apart than we had been the night before, the afternoon’s medical examination seemingly had demanded that a larger physical distance be kept between us.

“Meeting him where?”

“Ausable Chasm.”

“Huh! Why are you going there?”

“You have to promise me not to tell anyone.”

“What? Tell no one you went to Ausable Chasm? How come?”

“Promise.” Almost an order. But there’s a suppressed giggle behind it.

“But...” I had no idea why a visit to one of the North Country’s biggest tourist attractions would ever warrant being a secret.

“Promise!” And so I did. My answer, after a suspicious examination of my face by my young descendant, checking perhaps to see any sign of untrustworthiness, prompted her to start talking.

“You probably have never heard of this before...” she began hesitantly. “But it is held every year ... around the world ... it’s called World Nude Day...”

“World Nude Day?” I’m laughing as the words escape my mouth, interrupting her. 

“It’s a new thing,” Amanda quickly interjected. She was blushing.

“You and Todd are going to wander around Ausable Chasm naked?” She can hear the incredulousness in my voice.

“Everyone’s doing it. It’s a statement ... a statement about--”

“You’re just making this up to tease your old Great Uncle aren’t you?” I accuse.

“I am not!”

“You’re really going to go to Ausable Chasm and parade around naked?”

“I’ll be painted.”

“Painted?”

“On certain parts.” I don’t try to hold back the laughter that spills from my lips. “It’s not funny,” she insists.

I teased her for the next twenty minutes but all the time I was doing it I was also aware of the feelings of jealousy that were coursing through my brain. Lucky fucking Todd I muttered to myself. And I was also remembering a Nude Day celebration forty-two years earlier. Finally, just before midnight my beautiful grandfather announced that she was tired and that it was time to hit the hay.

“Yes,” I agreed as we both rose from the couch. “Night ... love you,” I whispered in Amanda’s ear as I gave her a quick goodnight hug.

“Me too,” she answered, then gave her great uncle a kiss on the lips before turning to go to her room.

I waited until she was halfway through her bedroom door before I stopped her with, “You know Amanda...”. When she turned, a questioning look on her face, I finished, “I celebrated my first World Nude Day forty two years ago.” 

“Whaaaaaaaaat! Wait!” There’s a big smile on my face.

“You’re making that up, aren’t you?
“Where was it?
“With who?
“Are you lying?
“They didn’t have Nudists back then. 
“Not up here anyway!
“If it was true why haven’t I ever heard the story before?”

The questions flooded out from my granddaughter’s lips. But she wasn’t going to get any explanations from her uncle this night. “I’ll tell you all about it when you get back,” I promised as I went into my room.

“Uuuuuncaaaaaaaaal Joe!” I heard complained through the closed door. I ignored her!

But later, as I lay awake in bed awaiting sleep, the memories of that far away day came flooding back...

THE PAST - June 11th 1968, Philips Creek, N.Y.

“A beer?” Susie offered as she flicked off the top of a Genesee Cream Ale bottle. I’d never had an alcoholic drink at home before and couldn’t stop my eyes from darting around the room to make sure no one was watching. And since we were alone of course no one was.

“We’re the only ones here you dodo,” my sister chastised, then brought the bottle to her lips and took a quick swig. “Haven’t you ever had a beer before?” I didn’t miss the sisterly disdain.

“Of course I have,” I answered that night long ago, my maleness offended at her tone. “Give me one,” I ordered. With a laugh she complied. 

At twenty, Susie was two years older than me, and had come back to the North Country for a fleeting visit to her family after finishing her sophomore year at N.Y.U.

And the second she’d walked through the door of our family home, after an absence of nearly two years, I‘d been enthralled. First of all I almost didn’t recognise her. We all, my mom and dad, and sister Nancy and I, all struggled to control the gasps that exploded from our lips when she’d come through the  front door. And she’d come a week early. 

“You’re coming next week, not today,” mom protested as we all tried to get our minds around this new Susie that stood before us. Is this what all these hippies we keep hearing about look like we all wondered.

“Something came up, I have to be in Washington next weekend ... so I figured I’d just come up now.”

Unfortunately my parents and my sister had plans for the weekend, plans long made to visit mom’s sister’s family in Massachusetts. They had been packing the car when Susie had arrived. And if Susie hadn’t come a week early, or if mom hadn’t organized that weekend away, what happened between my sister and I probably never would have been. 

“I’ll hang with Joey,” my sister said casually once the situation had been explained to her. “You guys will be back Monday won’t you? We’ll have most of next week together.”

“Monday night,” mom agreed. And so, on a Thursday night in early June nineteen sixty-eight I found myself alone with my sister. Once the others had gone Susie announced that we might as well spend the weekend at the old Philips farmhouse. That it’d be cool, that we could hang by the pool. Cool? Huh?

“But we’ll be alone up there,” I remembered complaining to her at the time. “Don’t you wanta see your friends while you’re here?”

She simply ignored me. Five minutes later, with two boxes of food and a duffel bag of my clothes thrown in the back of Dad’s old pickup, we were off. Susie did have me stop at Brucker’s Gas Station, reappearing two minutes later with a case of Genesee Beer. I didn’t say a word when she hopped back in the cab. Fifteen minutes later we were at the old homestead.

And that’s why I was sipping from a bottle of Genesee Cream Ale two hours later. Nervously sipping mind you. But it had been a great two hours. I was a country hick, totally enrapt, as I listened to my sister describe life in the outside world. 

“Are you a virgin?” A question that came out of left field from Susie. We’d been discussing the Beatles two seconds before. Before that politics and the coming conventions. What kids in the big city were doing, wearing. I had a million questions.

With anyone else, or if I hadn’t already consumed five beers, I probably wouldn’t have answered the virgin question. But I had. I was an open book that night. I nodded yes.

“Nancy wrote me at school that you were going with that Poplin girl. She said she thought you were fucking.”

I’d never heard a girl say fuck before. And I knew my younger sister Nancy had never used the word either. I wanted to tell Susie that she shouldn’t use the word, that it wasn’t ladylike. But I didn’t. Instead I shook my head no. 




Grandpa’s Nude Day: Past & Present



“Why not? Don’t you want to? You’re not a queer are you?” 

Sweet Jesus!  

“Don’t look at me like that. You never know these days.” Who didn’t know I can remember thinking to myself. I can honestly say that at eighteen, and living when and where I did, I’d never had the thought that someone I knew was queer. I’m pretty sure I didn’t even know exactly what queer meant. Or what it entailed.  

And so our sibling conversation turned to sex. And my sister, sensing my innocence, was quite prepared to shock her younger brother. Before that night I’d never really discussed sex with a girl. Not frankly anyway. Oh I’d attempted in a fumbling way to fight through my girlfriend’s ready defences, but actually discuss the act itself with a girl. Unh uh!

It was a pretty one sided conversation. I let Susie talk, afraid if I interrupted her that she might stop talking. She told me about her boyfriends, a string of boyfriends really.

When I finally trouped off to bed an hour later, half way drunk, my head was spinning. Spinning more from the stories my sister had regaled me with more than due to the drink.

Still Dreaming: June 12th 1968, Philips Creek, N.Y. 

“Do you know what day it is?” It was one in the afternoon. We were sitting side by side on the end of the dock. I had a hangover from the night before that the coffee Susie had delivered to my bedroom an hour earlier hadn’t helped. 

“Saturday?” I asked groggily.

“Not what day of the week you idiot,” she chastised. I was in a pair of old, paint splattered cut off jeans and Susie was in a bathing suit. A two piece bathing suit. Although it might not be considered that risqué today in 2010, for that time and place it was special. And even hung over, and even though she was my sister, my eyes kept slipping to the tops of my sisters breasts.

“So what day is it anyway?” I finally asked.

“Stop looking at my breasts perv,” she ordered as I reddened.

“I’m not...” I mumbled. Of course I had been.

“They’re just breasts, you must have seen some before,” she said as adjusted her top, an adjustment that seemed to allow even more rounded flesh to escape from the skimpy top. I blushed! But my eyes didn’t move from where they were riveted.

“I’ll bet you’ve seen little Miss Poplin’s nipples, haven’t you?” she asked as she adjusted the cloth that was covering her left breast. And as she did, for just a nanosecond, I’m pretty sure I saw her nipple. My first real, live nipple!

“Her names Jan,” I said, my eyes now on full alert. My cock was huge. But when Susie adjusted the cloth atop her other breast her fingers blocked my view. 

“Well, have you? Have you seen Janie’s nipples?” But before I could deny her accusation I watched as her eyes drifted down my body. Towards my... I jumped up and then quickly dove into the water. If I’d waited a second longer she’d have seen the bulge in my pants.

“Do you smoke?” she asked as she pulled some rolling paper and a plastic bag from her purse. I was standing on the dock, looking down at her, the water dripping off my body. My cock was back under control.

“No, it’s bad for you, your lungs. You should see some of the pictures in my anatomy books,” I said, stunned that one of my sisters would be so stupid. “What kind of cigarette is that anyway?” I asked as I sat down opposite her.

“Grass ... weed,” she said as she set to work rolling a joint. “Marijuana,” she added when she saw I still hadn’t got it. 

Of course I eventually tried it. What eighteen year old boy wouldn’t have?

“I was supposed to be in a Nude Day parade today,” I heard sometime later through the confusion the smoke had produced in my brain.

“What?”

“In New York. That’s what today is. World Nude Day. All my pals were going to be in a parade.”

“Naked? In public? In New York City? ” My tone asking ‘what planet are your friends from’.”

“They celebrate it all over the world ... France ... Germany ... Italy ...”

“Bull!” I might have been a rube, a rube who’d just smoked his first joint, but I was pretty sure there was no such thing as World Nude Day.

“But I came up here instead, to see my little baby brother,” Susie said languorously, stretching sinuously as she said it. Or maybe it was just the marijuana that had slowed down her movements for me.

“Hah,” I snorted, or I think I did.

“And guess what? My baby brother, who apparently has never seen a naked woman, is trying to check out his sisters boobs.”

“I’m not,” I say even as my staring eyes belie my words.

“Maybe we should hold our own nude day, the first annual Philips Family Nude Swim,” my sister suggests. 

“Yeah right.” Susie’s eyes are glued on mine as she reaches behind her back and releases the clasp holding the bikini top together.

“Somebody might see.” My first live tits! I was going fucking crazy!

“Sure Joey, like we’re only five miles from the closest person,” she scoffs, then stands up and slips her panties down her legs. PUBIC HAIR! But a second later she turned and launched herself through the air and out into the pond.

Seconds later she resurfaces. “So, are you coming in?” I shake my head no, scared and embarrassed even while knowing I want to.

“CHICKEN!” I hear her disdain not once but again and again as it echoes back at me off the surrounding hills. 

And then I’m in the water. Naked. Nervous. Excited. Harder than I’ve ever been. My sister’s giggling. I’m not experienced enough to understand that she’s as excited as I am.

I stare at her naked ass when she finally climbs up the ladder at the end of the dock. And then she turns and watches me as I tread water ten feet away. Drops of water are dripping from the hair at the juncture of her legs.

Eventually I mount the courage to climb the ladder. But my cock, which had been tamed by the cool water immediately started to grow as I climbed the steps. It was slapping up against my stomach by the time I’d mounted the last step and reached the dock. Of course I scurried to grab my towel.

“I want to see it,” Susie said as I draped the towel around me. “C’mon over here,” she invited as she tapped a spot opposite her. And I did! I simply let the towel drop and walked over towards her, then sat down with crossed legs and settled myself opposite her. Our knees touched. I was eighteen years old. I’d never seen a naked girl in the flesh before that day. I’d never been that excited. I was high on dope.

“It’s so beautiful.” And her voice didn’t have a hint of teasing in it when she said the words. “Tell me about him.” Susie was staring at my cock. 

“Tell you about who? My penis?”

“Yes your penis. I told you all about me last night.”She was probably more zonked out than I was.

“But what do you want to know?” I was at a loss.

“What’s his name?”

“His name?”

“What do you call him?” I’d never called ‘him’ anything.

“All boys have names for their peckers,” she announced to my confusion. They do? “We’ll call him Lord Jim,” she announced. And she’d called him that for the ensuing forty years.

“Lord Jim?”

“Lord Jim is very big you know Joey.” At that moment he was huge.

“How often do you exercise him?” Another question that left me speechless. 

“Joey,” she continued when she saw I wasn’t about to give her my masturbation schedule, “all teenage boys masturbate.” I don’t say a word. 

“Did you masturbate yesterday, last night?” I nod yes.

“In bed?” Another nod.

“Were you thinking about me, about what we talked about, when you were doing it?”

“It was a wet dream… this morning … it woke me up … I didn’t really do any thinking,” I finally manage to get out.

“Was I in your wet dream?” Of course she had been! I nod.

“So even though you masturbated early this morning ‘Lord Jim’ is excited today?” Lord Fucking Jim seemed to recognise he was being talked about as he bobbed excitedly between us. 

“Show me.”

“Show you what?”

“Show me how you do it?” Susie’s eyes are lit up in excitement. Without conscious thought I start to stroke myself. My eyes dart from Susie’s breasts to her patch of pubic hair as my hand moves.

“It’s bigger than John’s,” she says as she watches me. John I knew from the night before was her current boyfriend. “Much bigger.” My hand continues to move.

“I’ve never seen one so big,” she adds as she moves her hands down across her breasts and then down until her fingers meet in her thick bush. She pulls her lips apart. 

“Should I put a finger in?” she asks. I nod, then watch as she pushes the middle finger of her left hand into her sex. My hand continues to fly.

“Can I touch ‘Lord Jim’?” she asks as her other hand stretches to grab me. 

“Oh fuck! I’m going to cum.” I’m moaning as I watch Susie’s fingers move onto my cock. And then the sperm explodes up the canon my cock has become. Then splatters angrily and wetly between her breasts. 

And then a second shot ... and a third ... and a fourth ... and a ...

“Gawd Joe, how often do you masturbate?” my sister finally demands. Her chest and stomach and thighs are covered by my cream.

THE PRESENT Saturday, June 12th 2010 Nude Day

“BASTARD!”

That shout, coming from just outside my bedroom door, woke me the next morning around seven. It woke me from my Nude Day dream. It woke me from the image of my sister Susie, as she sat naked, kneeling opposite me, so close that our knees were touching. It woke me from the image of my eighteen year old cock spurting out its load of cum, of the image of my warm cream splattering against her chest and stomach and thighs. Of the image of Susie sliding a finger across one of her breasts and capturing a thick, hanging thread. It took me from the memory of Susie sliding her cum coated finger between her lips. 

“BASTARD!”

The shout came again, clearly from Amanda, and it was followed by a string of expletives that a young woman, even one training to be a doctor, should never have known. Or used. For the next three or four minutes she kept me from falling back asleep by tromping up and down outside my door, all the while muttering just loud enough for me to hear but not discern the words. Finally she rapped insistently on my door.

“Are you awake?” was demanded more than asked.

“How could I not be,” I yelled back as I sat up in bed. The dream hard-on I’d been sporting when her shout had awakened me had disappeared.

“Can I come in?” she asked while opening the door. 

“Did you bring me my coffee?”

“Huh!” she muttered, clearly not pleased with the world. Nor had she taken the time to change out of her nightclothes. A thin, spaghetti strapped ‘cami’ in ivory with a white lace trim. And while not décolleté the soft cloth clung to her breasts and only highlighted their size and shape. Her puffy nipples were clearly highlighted. She had matching shorts, perhaps a size too small judging how they clung delightfully to her thighs and bum. 

I tore my eyes away as I asked, “Problem?” 

“MEN!” she spat out. I immediately decided my best course was just to shut up. I’d learned that much in my sixty years.

“He’s not coming,” Amanda finally allowed.

“Todd?” She nodded. “Todd has a chance to take you to a Nude Day parade and he bailed out?” How dumb is this guy I wondered silently.

“Something supposedly came up.”

It certainly wasn’t his penis I thought as I shook my head. And frankly I was quite pleased with the prospect of more quality time with my pretty granddaughter. “It was probably a bad idea anyway. You of all people, a Philips girl, walking around naked with a bunch of perverts.” Amanda had always hated to be crossed. I knew that last minute changes to her plans never pleased her. Todd would pay for his transgression for a good long time.

“I wanted to go.”

“Huh? You did? Didn’t you say last night that it was his idea. That he had to convince you to go.” 

“I thought it was a stupid idea at first,” she admitted as she sat. “But then I thought why not? They’re just nude bodies ... and I am a doctor.” I let her run on for a few minutes, let her give me the long explanation of how she’d finally decided it was a good idea. How she’d actually been getting ‘psyched up’, her words, about the whole idea. Hornyness was probably a better description of the reason she and Todd had decided to go.

“It would have been good for me, help me in my future doctoring,” she said. I wasn’t that convinced by her reasoning but knew better than to opine said thought aloud.

“And I bought the paint, the special body paint stuff,” she complained.

“He’s a real jerk,” I agreed, trying to hide the grin on my lips. “C’mon, come here and your favourite uncle will give you a hug,” I invited. I was sitting up against the headboard and tapped the spot next to me.

“It’s not funny, the paint was very expensive,” she growled, then muttered “MEN” again even as she sat down next to me. I put my arm around her shoulder.

“I could take you,” I offered as she snuggled against me. It was simply said to earn me a few points and wasn’t expected to be taken seriously.

“You will? Really? Oh I love you Uncle Joe,” my granddaughter squealed.

Immediately fearing the worst I tried to backtrack. I had no intention of wandering around Ausable Chasm bare assed. But my words, “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to go with an old--” was interrupted before I could finish.

“Oh gosh, we’ll have to hurry Uncle Joe if we want to get there by noon.” Seconds later she was gone from the room.

A quick shower was followed by a hurried meal (no time for French Toast this morning ‘Uncle Joe’). Then I was invited into my granddaughters bedroom and told it was up to me to paint her. With the special, expensive sky blue paint.

“I want it to look like I’m wearing a bikini,” Amanda instructed. I shake the paint can. “I’ll draw lines first and you can fill in the empty spaces.” A nude coloring book for adults?

But truth be told Amanda certainly had some empty spaces I’d like to fill in. And it wasn’t that onerous a task for a sixty year old man to be in the presence of a beautiful naked young woman. Even if she was in my family tree.

Well in the end I had to draw the lines. They wouldn’t have been straight if she had done them now would they? And how could she have done her back? Her bum. I took my time. And I was continually interrupted in my work by my pretty niece who insisted on inspecting every line I drew on her delectable skin.  I gave her boy shorts. High cut boy shorts that would let lots of flesh escape. Except all the flesh had already escaped.

It was twenty minutes later before I shook the paint can again. She gasped when I pressed the nozzle and a stream of sky blue paint shot out.

Eventually she was ready to go. Not a bad mornings work I thought. I had sported a hard-on the whole time I was painting her. 

****

“It’s not that serious you know,” she suddenly said. Both lost in our thoughts neither of us had said much during the first twenty miles of the trip.

“What isn’t?”

“Todd and me. It’s just ...” 

“Just what?” I asked when she didn’t continue.

“Will you answer a question for me first? Okay?”

My eyes flicked from the road to hers. “Sure.” I had no idea where the conversation was going.

“Do you like sex Uncle Joe?” My eyes, my surprise showing, again jumped over to meet hers. “No, I didn’t mean ...” I watched silently as she struggled for her next words.

“When you were young I mean. In medical school.”

“Yes,” I finally answered after many seconds of silence, “I think that when your pooooor oooold Uncle Joe was young,” and I drew out and emphasised the words poor and old. “I think I could be fairly described as a man who enjoyed sex.”

“I didn’t mean you’re thaaaaat old,” she answered back with a giggle, the lightness of my response obviously having relaxed her. “Especially now since Grandma has equipped you with the latest in pharmaceutical aids...”

“Ha, ha. If I wasn’t driving this car I might just have to put my naughty little grand niece over my knee and teach her a little respect for her elders. Right on her sky blue rear end.” Amanda broke into a full laugh. I quickly joined her. 

A half mile later I asked, “And what exactly does the state of my sexual drive have to do with you and Todd?”

“I like sex too,” my niece answered. My eyebrows shot up questioningly. “More than most girls.”

“And?” I encouraged.

“We work too hard at school. Too many hours.”

“Yes?” Wondering how this all tied in. But I also couldn’t help remembering the slog of medical school that I’d endured forty years earlier. You had no time for anything but school work.

“I had like three dates in second year,” she complained. Amanda had just finished third year. Thinking back I remembered the six months in my third year that I’d lived with two English majors.

“So when I met Todd last summer…”

“Todd is a boy toy?” I had met Todd twice over the previous year and had never got the feeling he was Mr. Stud.

“We both have long hours. And he’s pretty nice.” This pretty nice guy was sleeping with my granddaughter?

“It’s not love. I mean we’re not getting married or anything. It’s just--”

Fortunately I didn’t get to hear any more details of the Todd saga. We’d arrived at the Chasm.

****

“I’ve already painted myself, I just need a touch up,” Amanda said to the pretty, dark haired girl who was one of the girls offering their services as body painters for the parade participants. My niece pulled the can of blue paint that she’d brought out of her purse and handed it to the girl. Then after a quick glance my way, she pulled her sweatshirt over her head.  Her shorts and panties quickly followed.

“I’m Amanda,” she introduced herself. Her sky blue tits jiggled.

“Lori,” our personal painter offered, then turned to me and asked, “and you are?” There was a touch of ‘what the hell’s an old guy like you doing in a nude parade with someone her age’ tone in her voice. And a matching look.

I had to pull my eyes away from Amanda’s curves. “Great Uncle Joe ... I’m the chaperone. I’ve been instructed by her mother to protect her from any and all marauding, perverted nudists. It was I who applied her first coat.”

Lori, after a seconds hesitation, laughed as she shook the can of paint. “Yes, those nudists perverts are everywhere,” she agreed as she held the can up to Amanda’s breasts and started to spray. It took her just a minute to touch up the areas that had been smudged in transit. A perfect, light blue, strapless painted bikini was the final result. It fooled you for about one second. Amanda’s puffy nips had tiny erections by the time Lori finished. Blue pubic hair!

“And are you parading Mr. ...?” 

“Doctor Joseph Philips. And yes, I thought it would be best to go undercover, to get right in the middle of the action,” I told the smiling young artist. “That’s why the straw hat and sunglasses, so no one will recognise me,” I explained of the disguise I’d brought along.

“Blue too?” she asked, holding up the can.

“I thought maybe white,” I answered after inspecting the row of paint cans that were arrayed on the table beside me.

“And where would you like the paint?” 

“I thought just my....” I answered as I pointed downwards.

“Your penis?” There was a cute little smirk on our artists face. I could hear Amanda chuckle from my left. I could feel myself reddening. I nodded. I’d play along.

“Perhaps also on my...”

“Your testicles?” I nodded again. “So, a sexy little white speedo?”

“Ha, ha.” Then all three of us stood around waiting.

“You know you will have to remove your shorts,” Lori finally suggested.

“I think perhaps it would be better if you waited outside the tent Amanda,” I told my niece.

“Why? You saw me,” she complained. “Besides I’ll see you in the parade.”

“Well at least turn around,” I ordered as I turned away from Amanda and faced Lori. I quickly slipped my shorts and underwear off.  




Grandpa’s Nude Day: Past & Present



“Oooooooooh!” from Lori. Then a giggle.

“What?” Amanda demanded from behind me.

“We may need two cans of paint for Uncle Joe. And I see why you call him ‘Great’.

“What? Why?” Amanda started to move towards the artist and I. I shooed her away while young Lori ran a piece of tape around my waist.

“Your uncle won’t have to worry about his disguise, no one, and I mean no one, will be looking at his face.” Little Lori had become a comedian!

“What are you doing?’ I asked while my little painter proceeded to run more pieces of tape around my mid thighs.

“This way it’ll just look like you’re wearing underwear,” she explained as she shook the can. Then she sprayed my ass. And I could see reflected in the mirror in front of me that Amanda was copping quick glances at my ass. A doctorly interest? It felt very weird when Lori started to spray my front. In fact the second the white mist hit my penis my cock jumped awake. And grew. Rapidly.

“Good, it’ll be easier like that,” Lori enthused as she watched my cock rise. “I’ll be able to do the underside easier.”

“Like what?” Amanda asked, straining to see something from across the tent.

“It’s much easier to paint a man when he’s got an erection,” Lori explained over my shoulder to my granddaughter, “It makes doing underneath and his balls much easier.”

“Uncle Joe has an erection?”

“The biggest one I’ve seen today,” Lori answered as she knelt down, lifted my testicles and started to spray underneath.

“He does?”

A minute later I was finished. Sporting a new pair of white ‘Lori’ brand underwear. 

“And who are you marching with today?” I asked the pretty artist as we prepared to leave. “And in what color of paint? And who gets to paint you?”

As it turned out Lori was going in red, and, due to a last minute screw up much like the non show of Todd, hadn’t anyone in particular to parade with. So we convinced her to join us. Or I did. Amanda didn’t seem that enthusiastic.

And that’s how I, the sixty year old birthday boy, ended up walking through the town of Ausable Chasm clad only in a coat of white paint, flanked by the two prettiest girls in the official New York State 2010 World Nude Day Parade. 

I sported a full erection for about twenty-five percent of the walk. Amanda chastised me for it. Insisted that I turn it off. But I could see she liked it! As did little Lori.

All in all we had a pretty good time. There was a barbecue on the beach by the Falls afterward. Conversation and drinks, although yours truly, the designated driver, was careful in my consumption. Amanda and I washed the paint off each other under the waterfall. Which was nice. Lori helped, insisting that it wouldn’t be right for a young girl to touch her uncle’s penis. 

“He’s my Great Uncle,” Amanda grumbled as Lori started to wash me. ‘Sir Joe’ enjoyed being washed by the young artist. Lori giggled. Amanda scowled.

*****

“What a little slut,” my granddaughter hissed after I’d started the car and we were on our way home. It was just after nine and we had an hour and a half drive ahead of us.

“Who?” I asked innocently, knowing full well she was referring to Lori.

“She kept pushing her breasts into you. All day.”

“She was just trying to be friendly.”

“She took an awful long time painting your...”

“You heard her. She had a big area to cover. Besides she’s a professional, she knew her work was going to be on display all day.”

“Hah! A little horny slut who can’t attract a boy her own age.” I simply lifted my eyes at Amanda’s preposterous statement. While perhaps not quite in my niece’s class, there wasn’t one man in a hundred who’d refuse an invitation to spend a night in Lori’s bed. Amanda ignored my look and went on, “What was she saying when she was washing it anyway? I couldn’t hear.” 

“She was wondering if I’d become her doctor when she returned to school in the fall.”

“Whaaaat? You didn’t say yes did you?”

“She is a student at the University.”

I could see this answer wasn’t going to completely satisfy my niece so forestalling further questions, I asked one of my own. “So do you want to hear about Nude Day 1968 or not?” Of course she did! 

And so, for the rest of the ride home, as daylight turned  into dusk and then darkness, I told my granddaughter of the day forty two years  earlier when her grandmother and I danced had around the nude day pole. So to speak.

And the story, somewhat edited to protect the innocence of my young companion, still evoked an endless series of interruptions.

“Grandma was a hippy?” was Amanda’s first question when I described what her grandmother was wearing on her arrival home from school. It was the first of many.

“She gave you beer?
“You were a virgin?
“You saw grandma’s nipples?
“Marijuana? Grandma took drugs?

I ignored most of her questions, hushing her interruptions as I cautioned that if she kept interrupting I wouldn’t tell her any more. 

“You smoked a joint?” 

“You were both naked? In the pond?” There was a ‘yuck’ in her voice when she asked that one. 

When I finally finished my tale, and while I had censored out some of the more salacious details (I didn’t think the details of her grandmothers and my mutual masturbations were necessary to the tale) I did draw the tale out with other invented details that kept my granddaughter enthralled until we finally pulled up in front of the house at just after eleven. It had been a great day all around!

She had one final question for me that night. Which she posed only after we’d both headed off to our bedrooms. I was just drifting off when her tap on the door woke me.

“Yes?” I asked.

“I want to ask you one more question,” my granddaughter asked as she poked her head into my room. 

“Amanda!” I complained in a tone that dripped displeasure. She entered, her nightie clad body highlighted by the bright hall light behind her, a light that sliced through the thin, wispy material. She was sexier like this, clothed, than she had been in her painted nudity of the parade.

“You and grandma didn’t do anything... I mean ... you know...” She let the question die on her lips but we both knew what it was.

“Of course not,” I replied, with a touch of both surprise and indignity at her inference. Every good doctor has to learn to lie well.

“I didn’t  mean ... it’s just--”

Seeing I’d won the point for now, I relented and, with a twinkle in my voice, added, “Of course, if she hadn’t been my sister, then who knows what might have happened?”

“Uncle Jooooooooooe!” The little nymph chastened as she sat on the edge of my bed. Each of her movements provoked a dance of her unleashed breasts under the thin shift that covered them.

“Go to bed,” I ordered, knowing that if she stayed even a minute longer that I wouldn’t be  able to control myself.

“Okay, okay,” she agreed as she stood, then bent over and gave me a gentle kiss before turning to go. But before exiting the room completely she turned back again.

“Go!” I ordered.

“I have one more question.”

“Not tonight,” I said but young Amanda wasn’t to be stopped.

“So who’d you lose your virginity to then? And why hadn’t you already lost it? I mean you’d already finished high school hadn’t you? Did you lose it in New York City?”

*****

I lost my virginity on June 13th 1968! The day after Susie’s and my Nude Day party.  

And of course it was Susie who took it! 

You’re probably saying, ‘You fucked your sister! That’s disgusting ... or perveted’. But it wasn’t. It was neither of those things. Things sometimes just happen…

THE PAST June 13th 1968, Philips Creek, N.Y. 

Susie was standing by my desk the morning after our Nude Day swim when I woke up, my anatomy textbook open in her hands. All she was wearing was a pair of pink panties. “This is disgusting,” she offered up when she noticed I was awake.

“What is?” I mumbled back, the sight of her naked breasts rousing me immediately.

“This,” she said as she sat on the edge of my bed, turning the book so I could see the drawing of a dissected set of lungs that stretched across the two facing pages.

“They’re lungs.”

“They’re disgusting,” my sister answered as she flipped the page.

“I prefer yours,” I said slyly, unable to stop myself from staring or commenting. 

“Do you?’ she asked, then added, “perv,” as she turned the pages of the book. “What about this?” When she held up the book for me I was faced with a detailed anatomical drawing of the female genitalia.

“Have you studied this too?” She asked. Of course I had, it was the page I’d probably spent the most time on.

“No more than any other part of the body,” I lied, trying to sound nonchalant as I fought to keep my eyes from drifting down onto Susie’s tits.

“I’ll test you. What’s this called?” She asked as she pointed to the drawn triangle that was a woman’s sex.

Of course I knew the answer. But I didn’t give it. “It’s the Corpus cavernosum,” I said confidently.

“No it’s not!” there was a look of surprise on Susie’s face. “I thought you knew all this stuff. Nancy said you study this anatomy stuff all the time.”

“No sorry, I made a mistake, it’s the Crus clitoris.”

“Wrong again,” my sister announced.

“The picture isn’t very good,” I complained.

“You weren’t even close, you’ll never get into Med School if that’s the best you can do.”

“I’m still in high school.”

“That’s the best excuse you’ve got? For your information it’s called the Labia Minora. You definitely need a better teacher little brother.” We’d finally got there!

“So teach me,” I challenged.

“You pig, you want to look at my pussy again don’t you?” Susie wasn’t angry, in fact she was grinning as she made the accusation. “Little Joey wants to see Susie’s Labia Minora doesn’t he?” I forced out a blush but didn’t say anything.

“Do you want to play doctor with your big sister?” I nodded bashfully.

“You’ll have to wear your white coat ... and your stethoscope if I let you.” 

“The coats in the cupboard,” I whispered. Like a teenage Amanda would have thirty years later, I in my teenage years had a white doctors coat that I often wore.

“Well get it then,” Susie ordered as she pulled the sheet off my naked body. ‘Sir Joe’ was more than wide awake. “No,” she said when I reached for my shorts from the floor. I looked questioningly at her. “Just the coat, nothing else,” she instructed. I slipped on the coat and then picked up the stethoscope from my desk. 

“You’ll have to remove your panties now Miss Philips, then I’d like you to lie back on the examining table,” I said in my best doctor’s voice. And while I wouldn’t have been very convincing to any other patient my big sister fell into her role without missing a beat.

“Will you be giving me a full gynaecology exam today doctor?” Susie asked as she removed her panties. Then she lay back on my sheets. 

“Yes Miss Philips, it’s been over a year since your last exam. Could you please spread your legs a little wider?” I asked as I crawled up on my bed between her legs. “Yes, that’s fine, now pull your feet towards you bum.” I lifted her left thigh until her ankle was almost touching her ass, her knee high in the air. Then I did the same with her right. Then I slowly pushed her knees even farther apart. 

“Will you have to insert your fingers doctor?” Susie asked it in a girl’s voice, a grin on her lips. But there was also something else in her voice. Excitement. Challenge. Fear? Desire...

“Yes, if we want to make one hundred percent sure your ovaries are healthy,” I answered as I slid my hands down her inner thighs. She was gaping open, wet, the odour of her need wafting from her when I slid a finger up her crack.

“Oooooooooh,” was her only sound when I pushed my finger inside her. But her body started bucking up off the bed as I started fingering her.

“Are they all right, my ovaries?” Amanda asked when, after at least thirty seconds of my exam, I finally pulled out my finger. It was coated with her juices.

“I think I’d better use a bigger tool, just to make sure Miss Philips,” I said as I moved my penis towards the mouth of her vagina.

“It’s a very big tool Doctor,” my sister answered. Her eyes were riveted on the head of my cock.

“I’ll be gentle young lady,” I promised as I drove a virgin ‘Sir Joe’ deep into my sister. 

And for the two next days Susie taught me about sex. And I even managed to teach her a few things...

THE PRESENT Sunday, June 13th 2010 Philip’s Creek, Upstate New York

And that’s how I’d lost my virginity forty years earlier. And truth be told we’d never stopped. Not before or after she’d had her first baby. Nor had it stopped when she’d married Sam Kramer some three years later.

It’ll never stop until one of us is in our grave.

And when I woke up today, I knew that it’s about to start with our granddaughter.

“Nude Day was yesterday young lady.” Amanda’s lying on her back, her legs splayed, her sex open and inviting, when I wander down to the pond just after eleven thirty.

“Lori told me yesterday that they normally celebrate it all weekend in the North Country,” my granddaughter answered. As I watched her she slowly stretched her body, arching her body sinuously as she spread her legs even wider.

“Did she?”

“Uh huh.” 

“Well I think I’ll leave my suit on anyway today,” I say as I sit down next to her.

“It’s my turn to oil you,” she says as she sits up. “Just lie back,” she adds as she gently but firmly pushes me back against the mattress.

“It’s okay, I can do it,” I start, but Amanda stops my words by squeezing the container of lotion. We both watch as a fat dollop of cream oozes out and splashes down onto my stomach.

My eyes are closed as Amanda’s fingers start to slowly caress the warm cream into my skin. 

“That should do it,” I finally say after she’s spent minutes rubbing the cream into my chest, stomach and arms. I know she can’t miss the hardening of my throbbing penis. 

“I have to do your legs too,” my granddaughter insists and opening my eyes I watch as she climbs over my leg and ends up kneeling between my ankles. I watch my granddaughter over the tent my cock has made of my bathing suit.

And then Amanda’s hands are slowly moving up and down my thighs. 

“Don’t,” I whisper but Amanda’s hands don’t stop. Instead her fingers slip under the bottom of my suit. For a second one of her hands lingers, cupping the now tight sac that holds my balls. Then it’s gone, but seconds later I feel both her hands slide upward, touching my hardness as they pass. And then they’re gripping the waistband of my shorts. I’m silent as she slowly she starts to pull them down. I watch as, inch by inch, my penis is slowly exposed.

“Please honey,” I finally protest as my suit slips down my thighs and my penis, fully erect, pops free. 

“We can’t,” I groan as I watch as Amanda’s left hand circles the thick base.

“I don’t want him to burn,” she whispers back as her other hand moves under my balls. We’re both watching when a second later a drop of precum suddenly appears at the end of my cock.

“He’s beautiful,” she says as her fingers slide up the shaft, only stopped by the ridge that separates the shaft from its heart shaped head. “I dreamt of him last night,” she adds. I watch as her head dips towards my groin.

“We can’t,” I moan. My cock is throbbing. 

“Big and beautiful,” she says as her hand moves over my hardness. Her eyes drill into mine as her tongue licks over her upper lip.

“Oh fuck,” I moan as her free hand squeezes my balls. “Mandy!” louder now, my voice is urgent. Her eyes stay on mine as her open mouth approaches my cockhead. 

“I think he needs a little kiss,” my granddaughter says just before flicking out her tongue and capturing the drop of precum that’s hovering on its tip. Then a soft but wet kiss is delivered before her mouth opens and she welcomes me inside. 

“It’s wrong,” I cry even as my hand moves to the back of her head and softly caresses her blond curls even while holding her on me.

And then she pulls her head away. Seconds later she’s moved up my body, positioning herself so that she’s supporting herself on her knees, with her wide spread knees now straddling my hips. My cock, upright and still grasped tightly in her left hand, is only inches from the gaping open wetness of her sex.

“It’d be  wrong,” I plead, even while knowing that whatever I say my cock is not going to be denied.

“I went online this morning,” Amanda says as she lowers herself just fractionally. She rubs my cockhead, again leaking a drop of precum, slowly, maddeningly up her exposed, damp slit. 

“What?” 

“It’s not against the law ... or prohibited in the bible,” she answers while adjusting her body so that my tightly grasped penis is positioned perfectly at her gate.

“What isn’t?” I ask as my hips involuntarily jump upward, trying to force my cock into her. 

“Sleeping with your great uncle. It’s not considered incest.”

“It must be,” I answer, and this time my urgent upward thrust is met and accepted as Amanda plunges downward to meet me.

“Uuuunh.” Her groan welcomes my cockhead inside her. Another upward thrust is met and another three inches squeeze inside her. There’s much more.

“Ooooh, Uncle Jooooooe!” Welcomes my next hard thrust.

It turns into a fuck. A hard, urgent, needy, sweaty, perfect fuck. The feelings we both have for each other, the love, the history between us, is washed away as our bodies urgently couple. My cock cares not that the channel he’s furrowing urgently into belongs to a relative. The wet, tight, clenching cunt that receives him is lost to the explosion of erupting nerve ends that the huge cock inside her is igniting. 

Until the coupling is completed, until the hot sperm floods into her, sperm that splashes into her orgasming center, the rational side of our brains are simply overwhelmed by the jolts of pure energy that are exploding inside them.

Five minutes later? Is that all it was? It felt like a lifetime. We come back slowly. My granddaughter is lying atop me. We’re soaking. Sticky. But quiet as our eyes slowly come back into focus. I’m still inside my granddaughter, semi hard and shrinking.

“I didn’t know,” Amanda finally whispers, then lightly, softly brings her lips to mine. Our tongues mingle, talk, then withdraw. My hands roam over her skin. A tear forms in my granddaughter’s eye. We move in slow motion. 

We make love the second time. A slow intercourse of touching, of smiles, of soft caresses, of whispered words. A dance of limbs that acknowledges who we both are and accepts it. No, welcomes it. The orgasms come again of course, those seconds of irrationality but they don’t overpower the love this time, instead they simply compliment it.

We spend the next forty eight hours together. Naked. Almost never out of reach. We talk, eat, shit, wash, fuck, make love, tease, explore, touch, caress, suck, lick, kiss...

Tuesday Philips Creek, N.Y.

“You’re going to have to come to the city more often this year.” Amanda’s lying in our bed, stretching her body as she says the words. It’s early and her naked body is bathed by the morning sun flooding in through the east facing window. Her grandfather’s sperm, my sperm, is oozing from her sex.

I slip out of bed and grab my camera from the desk. “You take to many pictures,” she complains as I start to shoot her.  Then sticks out her tongue as she moves her body through a series of provocative poses.

“It’s only you now Uncle Joe ... Todd’s--”

“I know.” We haven’t talked about the future during the last forty-eight hours but we both know.

“I love you,” Amanda promises as I set down the camera and take her into my arms.

****

Over breakfast, both of us dressed for the first time in days, our talk returns to the trivialities of life. Her trip back to the city, her plans for the summer, my plans, the Fourth of July family party, her schoolwork... 




Grandpa’s Nude Day: Past & Present



The love isn’t gone ... nor the excitement. But we’re back to our lives. We’re taking the first steps of integrating what’s happened over the previous days into the larger realities of our lives. We tease.

“Hah! And you better make sure that your nurse is in the room when that little hussy Lori comes for her first physical,” she replies to a gibe I make about not wanting her to go on any Nude Day parades when she gets back to the city.

“I’ll be a saint,” I promise.

“I bet! And make sure you don’t go to any church with that Italian girl,” she cautions.

“The Pope blessed her,” I answer with a smile.

“I’m going to have lots more questions for you,” my granddaughter promises.

“You ask too many,” I answer. I’m happy.

“Yeah right, like you let me ask any questions over the last two days.” 

“It wasn’t my fault you kept wanting to put ‘Sir Joe’ in your mouth,” I teased back.

“I did not!” Amanda was grinning.

“Or between your magnificent breasts... or between your legs ... your bum ...”

“Grandma never should have sent you that Viagra.”

“You’re my Viagra,” I told my love.

“And do you know what my first question is going to be?” I shake my head no.

“I’d just like to know how long after your famous 1968 Nude Day swim with grandma did you lose your virginity? And to who? And where? What’s she look like? Do you have any pictures of her? And--”

“That doesn’t sound like just one question my dear,” I rebuked.

But then she knew. Something clicked in her brain. She knew who took my virginity. And when and where. I could actually see it in her eyes when it registered.

“Oooooh myyyyy gaaaaaaawd! GRANDMA!”

And so, as Amanda packed up and got ready to go I gave her an abbreviated version of the seduction of her virginal great uncle by her grandmother.

She had a million questions. And I suspect she would have stayed at least another couple of days if she hadn’t had a conference that she absolutely couldn’t miss scheduled for the rest of the week.

“You’ll have to come to New York for the weekend,” she insisted even as she was levering herself into the front seat of the car.

“Your cousins are going to be here,” I countered.

“Still--” 

“I’ll call you,” I promised.

“Every day?”

I kissed my lover in reply.

My cell phone chirped exactly seventeen minutes after Amanda’s car had pulled away from the house. 

“I have a question for you,” she says without preamble. It’s a question I’ve been expecting. It was the logical next question an intelligent person would ask.

“More questions? You’re worse than a wife,” I answered with a laugh.

“Ha, ha.” I wait. “Did grandma ever come back that summer. The summer you—“

I know what summer she means. And I know what’s she’s wondering, the thought that’s sprung into her head. Her mother had been born in May 1969. And that meant that her grandmother had been impregnated in August 1968, two months after my nude day frolic with her. 

“No, she ended up in San Francisco that summer, in Haight Ashbury,” I lied. “When I got to New York in September she hadn’t returned for school. Didn’t come back til after Christmas.”

“Oh...” The line went dead.

The phone rang again ten minutes later. “You slept with her again though didn’t you? When she finally got back.” 

“She was pregnant then.”

“Okay, but later, after mom was born,” Amanda insisted.

“She married your grandfather not long after your mom was born,” I countered.

“Still--”

Five minutes later my phone beeped again.

“There’s no way you two could have stopped.” She hung up before I could say a word.

Beep, beep. “We have a lot to talk about... the next time we see each other.”

‘Yes my love,” I agree. 

I’m wondering what our children will look like when the phone chirps again. But this time it’s her grandmother. The mother of three of my children. But you know, that’s another story completely!

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read my little tale. I hope you enjoyed it. And I’d love hearing your thoughts on it – either by you making a public comment below or by a private email comment. 

And remember, this is a contest story and it’s you the readers whose votes will decide the winner. Many contest authors struggle to get enough qualifying votes so I do ask you to vote – it doesn’t take but a sec – for not only my story but every contest story you read. It’s greatly appreciated by every author. We all want to hear your opinions.

And if you like my work, and are a registered member of LITEROTICA, why not designate me one of your FAVORITE AUTHORS. Just click the Add author to favourites button above. But vote first.

Thanks and have a great summer, jim