0 comments/ 92481 views/ 56 favorites Living with Mom By: standingstones When I was five years old my Dad left my mother and me. Now that I am nineteen I am still living with my Mom. She actually wants me to stay with her. I don't know why exactly. She has had one lover after another in her bed. Most of them are losers. They want nothing more than sex and to have my Mom spend her money on them. My Mom ran into a dry spell lately. She hasn't had a man for over two month now. I think she is getting the itch. She walks around the house just wearing a t-shirt and no bra. I can clearly see her big boobs and nipples through the material. That goes for underwear as well. I can see camel toe and her shorts often look wet in the front. That isn't a good thing for me to see. I get so horny when Mom walks around that way. One day I was in the living room watching television. I heard my mother call for me so I went back to her bedroom. There was Mom sitting on the bed with her back to me. That day she was just wearing her bra and no shirt. "Can you rub some lotion on my shoulders Ryan. I'm so dry." I reached for the bottle of lotion there on her stand. I squirted some on my hands and then climbed up onto the bed. I was kneeling behind my Mom and rubbing her shoulders. I have to say I was getting a little excited. My Mom was moaning and telling me how good my hands felt. "Rub some on my back please," she said. Just like that, she unsnapped her bra and she threw it to the floor. I was looking over her shoulders and I could clearly see her big tits resting on her chest. Her nipples looked huge. My cock was stirring in my pants for sure. For some reason my mother turned around and she was now staring directly at the bulge in my pants. I was now looking at her chest. We seem to have the moment where we wondered what was coming next. My Mom reached out with her hands and felt the front of my pants. My cock started twitching as Mom rubbed my cock through the pants material. I just couldn't take it any longer. I stood up from the bed and I stripped out of my clothes. My bone was pointing straight out at my Mom. My mother then turned around on the bed and pulled off her shorts. I was now looking at my naked Mom. It was like I figured. My mother wasn't a model. She had wide hips and her tits sagged. Her pubic area was trimmed down and I could clearly see her pussy lips. She had the kind that flared out, just inviting you to enter. Mom told me to get lie back. When I did that she used her mouth on my dick. I watched as my Mom bobbed up and down my long prick. My cock is thin but I am nearly eight inches in length. My Mom's lips were surrounding my rod. I can't recall being that hard ever. She took her one hand and squeezed my nuts. That made me so hard. Once she was happy with my progress, Mom climbed up over top of me. She reached back and guided my dick to her pussy. Just like that, she sunk down on my rod. It's hard to describe the feeling of fucking your mother. It was different from any sex I had with other girls. Mom slammed down hard. Our pubic bones touched and I could feel her pussy muscles gripping me. I just had to feel those huge melons. I reached up and cupped each one in my hands. That really set my mother off. She was moaning and crying out. "Oh God Ryan, fuck me as hard as you can!" I started to bring my ass up from the bed. We got into a nice fucking rhythm. Mom would slam down hard and I would meet her thrusts with my own. I must have fucked my Mom that first time for nearly an hour. I tried to hold back the best I could but her pussy had me in a tight hold. Considering how much cock my mother had over the years, I was surprised she gripped me the way she was doing. It got to the point where I felt that pinch in my balls. Maybe my Mom sensed I was getting close. "I want you to cum in me Ryan," she cried out. That is exactly what happened. I raised up and I flooded my Mom with my hot seed. I sent roped of my cum deep into my Mom's belly. When she felt me explode, Mom gripped me even tighter if that was possible. Her body began to shake and it seemed like she was having one enormous orgasm after another. I must have cum a good ten minutes inside my mother until I felt empty. Once my Mom calmed down some, she fell onto my chest and we ended up holding each other. After our first time together, there was no sense in pretending any longer. My Mom told me she was trying to work up to the point of having sex with me. She would spy on me and the bulge in my pants and shorts was getting to her. She said she had to have me. Now that we had sex, my mother would walk around the house nude quite often. One day she was standing at the kitchen sink. When I saw her I stripped out of my shorts and came up behind her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and I started to rub my cock up and down her ass crack. My Mom stiffened and then spread her legs apart for me. I already had morning wood. I fitted my dick at her pussy slit and then entered Mom from behind. My mother leaned over the sink and I fed her every inch of my cock. Damn, did she beg for it that morning. Her pussy was sopping wet as I drove my cock into her womb. It amazed me how tight my mother's pussy could be. She squeezed my dick hard and I fed her with my stiff prick. I ended up blowing a huge load inside her body. Mom says she can't live without my cock. She wants me to stay with her forever. I don't know if that is such a great idea. I need to strike out on my own eventually. For now there is free pussy to be had and my mother needs it so badly. I plan on taking care of her greedy hole for the near term. Living with My Aunt Aunt Nikki was holding me tight as the funeral. She was going to be taking the place of my mom now. I was going to live with Aunt Nikki and Uncle Glen, who were the coolest, youngest, sexiest, and most fun Aunt and Uncle I had. But it's hard to be excited about that when you're at the funeral for your brother, sister, mother, and father. They all had gotten in a car crash. The moving van arrived and Uncle Glen helped me bring all the boxes in, he couldn't stay to help unpack them though, he had to leave for work. Aunt Nikki, on the other hand, didn't have work- so it looked like we would be spending a lot of time together. Which cheered me up, not only did I have a huge crush on her, but she was the coolest and smartest, not to mention sexiest hippipe MILF imagine. She long brunette hair that was sometimes dyed wildly and a wonderful ass and tits. I would just kiss her feet and be her servant all day I remember thinking to myself a I looked at her purple painted toe nails in the flip flops. Aunt Nikki opened one of the large brown boxes with a boxcutter, and as she pulled the top flaps apart her face lit up and she smiled. "I found something that might help cheer you up!" She said with a smile. "What's that?" I asked. She angled the box toward me and I saw my vaporizer, my bongs, my two ounces of weed, my cornucopia of prescription upper and downers, a bottle of Southern Comfort, and little meth and my stash of porn magazines. I laughed, then retorted- "I have my medical card." "I'm sure you do, but I wouldn't care if you don't. Why don't we save this packing for tomorrow and get fucked up together?" She laughed. "I'm sure if you get high enough you can think of something I can do to cheer you up." She was giggling as she began to pull out my paraphernalia and prescriptions. If she only knew what I was thinking. -------------- "Thats- some-*cough*good *cough* weed." Aunt Nikki managed to choke out with a smile as she set the bong down and composed herself from that large hit. "Yeah it is, how are the pills treating you?" I asked, feeling fucking fantastic for having gone through such a tragedy." "I feel awesome- like full of energy but relaxed at the same." She said looking up at the ceiling, then grabbing the box and moving it toward her. "What are you doing there?" I asked with a friendly but suspicious tone. "Taking a look at these..." She looked at me with a sexy glare and stared me down as her devilish smile grew. "I want to see what kind of porn my nephew likes." I was blushing and getting hard. Nine out of ten of those magazine are Taboo Incest porn filled with Aunty/Nephew stuff. "That's one side effect of the speed for me- I get horny as fuck." I said, trying to play it cool. Aunt Nikki sat up, now fascinated by the pages she flipped before, but she looked up at me quickly to agree- "I know, I feel great but they have the same effect on me. I'm really wet. Though that might be the magazines." She smiled and stared up from the pages once more at me. "You like that stuff?" I asked, getting quite intrigued but trying not to be obvious. "Yeah I do!" She said enthusiastically entranced, she scooted her butt over a tiny bit and patted on the couch. "Come on over." I stumbled over quickly, trying to hide my growing penis, and grabbed a magazine quickly knowing that would help cover my erection. I looked down to the cover to see I grabbed the worst possible one I could, it was a picture of a sexy older woman that looked a little like Aunt Nikki and the title of the magazine was Hot Aunt and Nephew Incest in giant bold letters. I saw Aunt Nikki grin widen to an open mouth smile and she almost gasped in giddiness as she she spoke. "What do you got there?" She asked put her hand on the magazine, definitely feeling the my cock protruding against it, she opened it up and started flipping through it. Lots of the pages were sticky and obviously cum covered. "Looks like you really enjoyed this one, didn't you?" Aunt Nikki asked me. I had been through enough and was high enough to just be totally honest. "Yeah, I really, really enjoyed this one. I'd say it's my favorite of them all." I said and she looked me in the eyes. "Is that right, John? You have a fetish for you Aunt, don't you?" She bit her lip and it made my cock twitch. "Well, it's hard not too- you're so gorgeous." I spoke softly and I could almost feel her melt. "I promised I'd find something I could do to cheer you up... you deserve a dream to come true after all you've been through- and I don't think any man wants me as much as you do, and that make me pretty hot." She paused... "So, we have like eight hours before Glen gets back... can you promise to not tell him or anyone?" She got serious and and looked me right in the eye. "I wouldn't tell a soul. I'd kill for you Aunt Nikki. I'd do anything in the whole wide world for you." I said passionately. "You've have a hard time lately John, it's time you let me do something for... anything you want." She began to push her body against mine, and her lips against my lips, and I began to kiss her as good as could. I remember that amazing feeling of the first time I put my tongue in her mouth and she did the same thing back; about ten more aggressively and we made out in between nibbling on each others lips and giggling. We broke our attack on each others mouths and stopped groping each other for a minute and caught our breath. "Grab that magazine and let's go to my bedroom." Aunt Nikki said, gasping for air. I grabbed the magazine and followed her as fast as I could with my large erection forming a massive tent in my jeans. "Take off my clothes, nephew." She giggled as she kissed and we shut the door as our bodies slammed against it. I unzipped her sweater to reveal a wife beater, her large breasts barely contained, and her nipples as pointy as could be. She grabbed it by the bottom and peeled it off revealing her large beautiful breasts. I knelt down and unzipped her jeans, and pulled them to her ankles. Looking up I saw her already wiggling her soaked black thong down to me. "Glen and I just found out we are pregnant- so we don't have to worry about condoms." She smiled. "Congratulations, Aunty." I said, peeling off her boots and socks and kissing her toes, licking and sucking them, all over her feet. Her thighs were glistening from her wet pussy, which was shaved beside a cute landing strip. Her ass was big in a good way, so fucking hot and juicy- just like her breasts. She dragged me to the bed and threw me on it before jumping on top of me. She began to remove my clothes, and I helped her, wiggling out of my jeans and boxers- freeing my aching member. As she pressed her naked body down against mine for another kiss she could feel my cock throb against her gorgeous belly, she had a belly button ring and a tongue ring. "Oh my, I can feel how big you are Johny, and I'm impressed." She said then she licked the inside of my mouth and bit my lip. Aunt Nikki went and breathed into my ear, before licking inside it and sucking on my earlobe. It was so sensual I couldn't control myself. "Oh my god!" I groaned as my hip thrust involuntarily into my Aunt and my cum began to squirt all over her stomach and chest as well as mine too. I came a lot. Like a fuck ton. Both of us were dripping with my sticky, warm, semen. "That's okay, John. You just got excited." She sJohnered into my ear, still in the same positon. "I'll be hard as rock again in like thirty seconds, that never happens- you're just so perfect." "Why don't you run downstairs- grab that crystal you were talking about, and grab Glen's viagra prescription from the bathroom. I have an idea." I did as she told me and was back a minute later, to see her holding a meth/crack pipe, the ones that are spherical at the end- glass dicks as some people call them. She had put a chunk of some of dark brownish clay like substance in the pipe. "That is some amazingly strong opium mixed with the best hash you've ever had. I think it will go awesome with the meth." She explained as she fiddled with the pipe. "You just keep getting better" I smiled. "Take two of those Viagra's, we're going to have some serious fun- those make sex feel ever better and it can make Glen last a while so I am sure you will be fine." I popped them and swallowed them right away and then handed her the meth. She didn't hold back and put almost half the bag in there- that's about 180mg. Neither of us were paying any attention to the time. "See that DVD I laid on the bed?" My aunt asked. I looked over and saw it. "Now I do." "Put in the DVD player." I followed her instructions being the good nephew I am and my cock was already at full length again as I saw the image of her fucking my uncle on the same bed come to life on the screen. "Holy shit that's fucking hot." I said with my shaky hand covering my mouth. I grabbed my pants from the floor, pulled out my Marlboro's and a lighter, and lit myself a cigarette. This was hot as fuck. "I'm glad you like it, I just thought you would be kinky enough to get a kick out of it, I'm glad I showed you." She said seriously. I loved how she would talk dirty in such an intellectual tone, totally somber- it turned me on. She had a seriousness to her that was very hot. A moment later we both sat on the bed and began to heat up the pipe. "You guys have sex on this bed every night?" I asked. "Not every night unfortunately, but yes, we fuck on this bed quite often. Does being on your Aunt and Uncle's love bed turn you on?" She asked and grabbed my cock and started a slow teasing stroke. "You know the answer to that." I smiled as my cock throbbed in her hand. "You take the first hit," she ordered, passing me the pipe and now putting both hands to use on my balls and cock. I kept the lighter against the glass as the vapor began to form thicker and thicker and then I took a deep, deep inhale. I paused for a breath. Then two more hard long tokes, as big as I could. I almost gagged trying to hold it all in my lungs as I passed the pipe to Aunt Nikki. She took three big long hits like a pro and by the time she was finished I had exhaled and she passed it back at me. I could already feel the effect hitting me really hard and strong by I took three more mighty hits anyway, and then Nikki did the same and finished it off. We both took a moment to breath and gain some composure and the room melted in hypnotically, excruciatingly, intense bliss. We were simultaneously melting in euphoria. Then we looked into each others eyes and I knew I was in love with her. I was filled enough to energy to fuck the shit out of her, but I was at the same time intoxicating euphoric- opiates, lost in a nodding bliss, but wide awake. "I love you, John." Aunt Nikki said, starting with awe into the nothing. My world exploded in joy and I told her I loved her too. Then she got on top of, with my back resting against the back of the bed, she pinned her legs on my thighs and strattled my crotch "I'm not only your Aunt- but I'm your new mommy now too." She smiled and kissed me deep. She trailed down my stomach with kisses. "Now I can do anything you want my sweet boy, so you just tell me what you want to me to do." "Can I cum inside of you and then eat you out?" I asked, nibbling on her earlobe, making her gasp, giving her a taste of her own medicine. "I would love that." She replied. "I like how kinky you are." TO BE CONTINUED SHORTLY. Living with My Nieces This is a story of incestuous relationships between an adult male and his three adult nieces. If such stories would be offensive to you, you are strongly urged to avoid it. My appreciation to a Japanese film, "Living with my cousins," for the inspiration for this story. All of the characters are at least eighteen years old. It's a bit long but it can readily be read in three separate sections\. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Paul's nieces were coming for a visit, a sustained visit. Paul lived in the big city. The Bodine girls (Betty Jo, Bobbie Jo, and Billie Jo) were from Pixley, West Virginia, and they had been offered a summer fellowship at the Five Star Beauticians School. The girls had just started their own salon in Pixley and were ecstatic over the opportunity to learn the latest in nail technology and laser treatment. However, the girls couldn't really afford big city lodging. One month's rent in the city would cover the down payment on a home in Pixley! Well, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much. The girls therefore contacted their uncle, Paul Henderson, to see if he could put them up for the month. It could be asking a lot. He hadn't seen his nieces since they were in their young teens. He had been in his young twenties when they were little girls. But ever since his last visit there had developed a significant falling out among the elders over the inheritance left by Grandpa Henderson. Papa Bodine had been left out cold, while Paul's father received quite a substantial sum, with which he done gone got yankee rich, multiplying it handsomely during the dot.com stock explosion. The girls, however, held no animosity themselves. They didn't mind being poor country folk. Heck, they didn't even see it that way. As far as they were concerned, they were dirt rich, only dollar poor. Frankly, they much preferred the relaxed, down-home, friendly life of Pixley, West Virginia, over the hustle and bustle, the crowds, the expense and, frankly, the cold rudeness of the big city. Paul would at times agree, although he did enjoy the restaurants, the theater, the museums, the galleries, the ballparks, the bars, and everything else that the big city offered. Pixley might be a nice place to relax for the weekend, but much longer than that he would get bored. In any case, he was happy to have the girls stay with him. But, it wasn't like he had a lot of room. He warned them that he only had one guest room. It had a king sized bed, but that could hardly hold three young ladies, could it? The girls though didn't mind at all. They had shared the same bed in the Bodine home throughout their lives and now they at times found it bit uncomfortable and lonely living on their own, sleeping in an empty bed. It would be just like old times to once again share a bed with their sisters, and even better to finally see their dear Uncle Paul after so many years. Paul was actually a bit nervous about the visit. Three young women in his condo? It really wasn't that big. Not only would the girls have to share their bedroom, all four of them would have to share the one bathroom. He moved a lot of his stuff out of the bathroom to provide the girls with more space. Fortunately, his bathroom did have a lot of counter space, at least so he felt, and he understood that girls needed quite a bit of room to lay out their make-up and stuff. Plus, he had a cleaning service come in to prepare for their visit. He was a rather typical bachelor and had not spent much of his time vacuuming, dusting, cleaning out the refrigerator, or washing bathtubs. Paul was also nervous about just meeting his nieces. What would they be like? He wasn't entirely sure when was the last time he saw them. He didn't even have any photos from that period of time. He was now in his forties and it had been so long ago. The more he thought about it the more apprehensive he became. A whole month? They were going to stay a whole month? What if it was glaringly obvious the moment they arrived that this was a big mistake! Imagine how difficult it would be to put up with their presence for thirty days. He knew that they would probably want to do all sorts of tourist things. He wouldn't mind taking them to a museum or a gallery. He liked to do that anyway. But, he wouldn't be surprised if they had no interest in that, being from such a small rural town. Plus, he did fear that they might in fact embarrass him, being unsophisticated country girls and all. He sighed deeply at the thought of how really troubling and difficult this could be. But, he also felt a bit guilty over having such thoughts. They were, after all, family, and one shouldn't feel ashamed or embarrassed about the members of one's own family. He also felt a bit guilty over the fact that the Bodines had been left out of the Henderson will. He was not himself privy to the reasons for the family rift, and he had enjoyed the girls when they were little. He did recall with some fondness fishing, swimming and even frog gigging with them. It had been an awful lot of fun. One of them even had a bit of a crush on him. That was rather cute, as she was the youngest of the three. His pulsed raced as he strode toward the door to his condo, the ringing bell announcing the arrival of the girls. He became simply speechless when he opened the door. The girls had really grown up, and grown out. Standing before him were perhaps the three most attractive young ladies he had ever seen, at least in one group, all grinning widely, so very happy to see him. "Uncle Paul!" "Hey there!" "Hey y'all!" "Great to see yuh!" They all greeted him so gaily. He was momentarily stupefied. "Well, you gonna' invite us in to set a spell or are we just gonna' have to mosey on back to Pixley?" Billie Jo teased. "Oh, yes! Sorry! Sorry! Please come in, please do." He stepped aside so that the girls could march by, and it was a nice little parade indeed. They were so endearingly charming. Each one smiled with a big friendly grin as she walked by, breasts thrust out with either exceptional pride or exceptionally good posture, which was rather impressive given how laden down they were with bags and bundles. It took considerable effort on Paul's part not to let his eyes linger on their prominently jutting breasts. He did at least have a solid glance at the three displays of feminine pulchritude, although also feeling a bit guilty in doing so. After all, these were his nieces. They were family. You don't ogle the boobs of your relatives, and especially the younger ones, even if they were just nieces. The thought entered his mind that perhaps the country life, with all that good home cooking and fresh air, contributed to the growth of such large healthy breasts. It really couldn't be true, but he did have to at least wonder. It was, of course, probably entirely genetic and, as he thought about it, Mrs. Bodine, their mother, did have rather large breasts herself. Paul's roving eyes were noticed by Billie Jo, but she didn't mind. She rather enjoyed men enjoying the sight of her. She had always been the more flirtatious one of the three sisters. Mrs. Bodine even described her as "boy hungry." It was no coincidence that the top few buttons of her plaid country shirt were undone, revealing quite a bit of very deep and lovely cleavage. The girls dropped their bags in the center of Paul's living room and gushed over how large and impressive the place was, but then as quickly turned to him to reiterate their greetings, this time more personably, prancing over to him to give him a big group hug. They all exclaimed with sincere and joyful enthusiasm, "We h'aint seen you for ages!" "It's been so long!" "Have you missed us?" "It's just so sweet of you to have us here!" They jointly squeezed and hugged him from almost every angle of his body. Paul just smiled, awkwardly responding "Yeah!" "Sure!" "Same here!" "You bet." He was not a particularly touchy-feely sort of guy, and these girls were being very touchy-feely, their hands squeezing him here, caressing him there, and their big full breasts all pressing against him. Six wonderfully large soft boobs. He felt like he was some big tipper at a gentleman's club who got rushed as soon as he had entered, but he again realized that it really wasn't appropriate to think of your nieces as strippers, trying to seduce you by rubbing your body with their soft, full boobs. "Which room is our'n?" Betty Jo finally asked. "Betty Jo," Billie Jo admonished her, "don't be so rude. Uncle Paul will show you where to put yer things all in good time." "Sorry," Betty Jo replied. "No no no, please," Paul replied,"certainly, let me show you girls to your room." As he led the young ladies to the bedroom he again apologized, "Now, you know, I just have the one room for you girls." "It'll be hunkey dorey, I'm sure," Billie Jo reassured him as the girls followed their uncle to the guest room. It was indeed no bother to the girls. In fact, Betty Jo was impressed. "Look how big the bed is!" she exclaimed and dashed by Paul to climb onto it, jumping up and down. "It's so bouncy!" Paul noticed that they certainly were. They were bouncing like crazy. Plus Betty Jo's short plaid skirt was flying up and down, providing brief but very pleasing glimpses of colorful panties: polka dots he believed, but he wasn't entirely sure. They did though cling nicely to a very sweet little cunnie mound. "Betty Jo!" Billie Jo again admonished her. Betty Jo had been such a tomboy as a young girl. Paul wondered if she still was. Betty Jo gave one last big jump and then landed on the bed flat on her butt, her skirt flying all the way up, resting on her tummy, opening to view a lovely little polka dotted honeypot mound. "Betty Jo, my gracious! You raised in a barn?!" She sort of was, but Betty Jo didn't point that out. She just looked defiantly at her older sister, who was scowling back at her. Betty Jo started giggling as Uncle Paul's eyes seemed to be bugging out, but she acted like the innocent scamp. "What's wrong?" Before Billie Jo could answer the younger sister pulled her skirt back down and asserted, "I got dibs on the right side." Billie Jo turned to Paul. "You'll have to excuse Betty Jo. She's pretty as a speckled pup but sometimes she seems to forget that she's now a young lady. You know she was quite the rambunctious one when she was a young'un and," turning back to Betty Jo she added, "seems like nothin' has changed." Well, Paul would have to say that quite a bit has changed. He could feel some swelling in his pants as he contemplated the brief sight of Betty Jo's sweet little polka dotted mound, but he also realized how wrong it was to be ogling his niece's vaginal area and having such a reaction. Living with one's nieces might indeed turn out to be quite difficult, but for a reason that he had not anticipated. "And," Billie Jo added, "You will sleep in the middle. I'll be on the right. Bobbie Jo on the left." "That's just not fair," Betty Jo complained. "Now don't you get ornery. You're the youngest, the smallest, so y'all sleep in the middle." Betty Jo scowled at her older sister but she knew there was no point in arguing. Billie Jo turned to Paul. "Could y'all get the rest of our things, Uncle Paul? It's an awful lot for us young ladies to tote." She gave him her most grateful, and flirtatious, smile. It did always have a useful effect on guys when she needed things done for her. "Oh, yeah, sure. Um, of course. Why don't you girls get settled in and I'll bring the rest of it up." He was kind of surprised there was more to bring up, as they appeared to have already hauled in a great deal. "The um, the, bathroom is right there. I'm afraid we'll be sharing that. My room is on the other side." "Oh that's so sweet of you," Billie Jo cooed, giving him another hug, pressing those very wonderful boobs into his chest. Paul wondered if these girls hug you every time you do something nice. "Which car is yours?" "Oh, yes," Billie Jo answered, "We've got Uncle Carson's pick-up, the one parked a piece down the rode. Mercy me, we couldn't fit everythin' in a little ole' car, and he was so nice to loan us the truck." "Yeah, right, sure," Paul responded, wondering just how much stuff these girls had brought. When he got down to the truck he just stood there awhile, shaking his head. He couldn't believe how many layers of boxes, suitcases, and bags these girls had stuffed into the back of the truck. They would need all of this for just a few weeks? It seemed like they weren't ever intending on wearing anything twice. He lost count of how many trips he had to make back and forth, from his condo to the truck and back again, as the girls unpacked, unpacked, and unpacked some more. There was even a really heavy box, which he discovered were Bobbie Jo's books. She had always been the bookworm of the three. Well, it wasn't like he couldn't use the exercise, and it did give the girls time to settle in. When he was done he really did need to take a shower, only to discover that virtually every inch of any possible counter space in the bathroom was now covered by some sort of beauty product. The girls had even built a couple of cheap makeshift cardboard portable shelves, as apparently he didn't have enough counter space. He studied the array with some wonder. It was like a warehouse of make-up and beauty products: skin care creams, foundation (liquid, cream, and mousse), lotions, powders, rouge blush, perfumes (clearly much more than just one per girl), lipsticks, lip gloss, lip liner, limp plumper (what the heck was that?), lip balm, nail polish (fingernail and toe nail), mascara, eye liner, eye shadow, eye putty (another one he didn't understand), eyebrow pencils, eyebrow creams, eyebrow waxes, eyebrow gels, hair sprays, and deodorants. The lipstick, eye liner, and nail polish, of course, all came in seemingly countless different colors (but much of it looking the same to Paul). They even bought their own soaps and shampoos, which kind of surprised Paul as he did feel he had plenty of that, but apparently they had their own preferences, which were quite extensive in choice (all of which was really much too perfumed for him). Plus, of course, some bubble baths, bath oils, and bath salts. It took Paul quite some time to find his lone deodorant, along with his razor and toothbrush, the only three things of his own he had left on the counter. The first week took a bit of getting used to. It turned out that the girls took to washing some of their clothes in the bathroom, particular nylons, brassieres, and panties, which they proceeded to hang on every and any available hook or rod. It was a little titillating, he had to admit. With the bathroom door locked he spent a bit of time trying to match up each girl to her undergarment, getting rather erect as he closely studied each flimsy, lacy underthing, imagining each respective niece within each lacy lingerie. If these weren't his nieces he might have snatched a couple of pairs of panties for his own use at night, but even the thought of that made him feel guilty. It was a rather perverse thing to do, wasn't it? Mornings were difficult too, as the girls spent so, so much time in the bathroom. Fortunately his boss didn't seem to mind his late arrivals. He had a couple of daughters of his own and was quite sympathetic. He did though admonish Paul to get a bigger apartment. Paul agreed he should (once he got a sufficient raise to afford one, but he didn't say that out loud). Mornings were also difficult in another way as he would get quite titillating peeks at the girls before they were dressed. Betty Jo apparently liked to have breakfast right after she showered, which made no sense to Paul but he was not about to argue with that. He just sat there, pretending to be reading his morning newspaper, enjoying his coffee and the sight of the very pretty girl wearing only a towel tightly wrapped around her body, revealing considerable cleavage with breasts that appeared to be straining to be released by that torturous bondage and, from behind, the towel was just barely making it past that delectable little behind. He so wished for a wardrobe accident. None occurred, although Betty Jo didn't seem to mind the towel occasionally slipping down to just above her nipples as she was enjoying her cereal, the top half of her rosy aureola coming into view. With just the tiniest bit of additional slip so would her nipple come into view. Those young breasts looked so, so sweet in the morning. He loved contemplating them as he sucked on a juicy melon. Bobbie Jo and Billie Jo had breakfast before they showered, Bobbie Jo in her pajamas, which weren't anything especially sexy, but it was still nice to be hanging around with a young lady in her PJ's, particularly when it was so evident that she wasn't wearing a brassiere, and those rather monstrous boobs did jiggle and wiggle quite a bit as she was munching on some toast, her thoughts engrossed in some book she was reading. Paul was really quite impressed at how well they stood up without any apparent support, wondering to himself how they would appear beneath the PJ top. But, Billie Jo put both sisters to shame, if the competition was which girl was most shameless. Billie Jo wore nighties to bed, and she didn't seem to mind wearing them in front of her uncle. Most of the time they were not terribly sheer but they were always terribly sexy. Paul almost spilled his coffee the first morning, wondering if Billie Jo had forgotten that she was visiting him. But, he was disavowed of that excuse as she engaged him nonchalantly in conversation, as if this was all quite natural and normal to be speaking to your uncle while you're wearing such a provocative and revealing ensemble. His eyes repeatedly glanced at those very lusciously full, wiggly breasts and the soft, sexy bikini panties, through at times her cunnie lips were rather clearly outlined. A couple of times the top was even diaphanous, and so he was treated to a very wonderful consideration of his niece's soft, smooth, wiggly white boobs, rosy aureolas, and perky stiff nips. It was quite amazing how boobs stand out so wonderfully off a woman's chest. It was like their only purpose was just to perch there to be admired, squeezed, and suckled. Paul wondered if she was being intentionally provocative, or perhaps it was just a cultural difference. Are country girls just less inhibited about their bodies? Maybe it's because they all grew up in a small home where modesty was a luxury they couldn't afford? He considered asking her to put on a robe, or something, but it was important to respect alternative cultures, particularly when it concerns guests within your home. The first morning Paul was wearing his pajamas, with no underwear. He didn't usually wear underwear beneath his pajama bottoms. He didn't make that mistake a second time, coming out thereafter wearing his only pair of tight jockey briefs, which were really quite necessary to hide his erection, which instantly sprang to life at the sight of Billie Jo. If he didn't seem to be noticing them sufficiently enough, she seemed to go out of her way to make their presence quite prominently obvious, like the time she refreshed his glass of milk, her essentially naked milk jugs jiggling and jostling against his shoulder and face as she poured the milk into his glass, afterward absentmindedly pressing the cool carton against her breast, causing the nipple to stiffen. She would also scratch or caress a breast as she contemplated the entertainment section of the newspaper while munching on her cereal, apparently oblivious to Paul's eyes falling out of their sockets. Paul was torn with guilt. If these were his daughters he should feel terribly, terribly shameful. Dads don't ever have any such thoughts about their daughters, do they? But, of course, these weren't his daughters. They were just his nieces. That's pretty different, isn't it? And, besides, they were all grown up now. They had indeed very clearly grown up. Living with My Nieces Most of the time the girls would do their nails, fingers and toes, in either the bathroom or the bedroom, but on occasion one or more of them would move out to the living room. It was usually a time that singled the possible availability of the bathroom, at least long enough for his own shower and shave. But, such times could also be the best of times, for the painting of fingernails and toenails would often jostle a breast, threaten a towel, or most appreciated of all, require a leg to be raised, bent or both, thereby opening up the towel between the thighs, providing a very wonderful up-towel peek. Paul at first avoided the living room when this morning routine was in progress, feeling that it was really terribly inappropriate to voyeuristically admire his nieces in this way. That was really going much too far. Heck, if he was going to do that he might as well drill a hole in the wall to peek at them in the bathroom. He certainly wouldn't do that. But Billie Jo would call for him to bring her a cup of coffee and join her in conversation. She said she just liked the early morning talks. An early morning conversation was always so relaxed and intimate, and Paul certainly enjoyed the early morning view. He eventually developed a pretty good understanding of each niece's cunnie. Billie Jo was entirely shaved, and had very thick, fleshy, womanly lips that were very easy to discern even in the shadows beneath her towel, although the position in which she would sit let her inner thighs and cunnie be very well lighted. She might even adjust the light to give her a better view of her toe nails, which invariably also caused the light to literally shine up her towel and enlighten the view of her cunnie. When she was done she would hold out her foot and ask him how her nails looked. Her lips looked so, so, so very good, but he confined his comments to her toes, which he invariably said looked pretty enough to nibble, causing her to giggle and perhaps even open up her thighs a bit, or at least so he thought. Bobbie Jo was not fully shaved. She had a nice dark landing strip that had the effect of drawing one's eyes to her sweet feminine lips, if that was really necessary. She was though otherwise shaved, and her lips consisted of just a very delicate little slit. Sometimes he felt he could even detect a bit of glistening moisture, a sort of morning dew. He wondered if that was some sort of special vaginal make-up she used. Betty Jo was not shaved at all, but it didn't really make any difference. She just had a wispy very light bush of strawberry red hair, complementing the auburn curls on her head. One could still easily see her cunnie, which was a lovely delicate little crevice. It was just this little coin slot, perhaps capable of taking only a thin little dime. Paul was not treated to this vaginal show every morning. It was really unpredictable, but it became well worth shifting to the living room once he had finished his breakfast, just in case there might be a morning cunnie presentation. If Paul got up real, real early he could beat the girls to the shower but then he would have no excuse for having breakfast with them. Of course, he could then get to work even earlier, but breakfast was such a very nice way to spend some quality time with the girls, to talk about what their plans were for that day, whether they were enjoying their stay, how the beauty training was going, and just catching up on their lives. His balls were well churned by the time he did leave for work. The evenings were also a pleasure. He quickly discovered that he did enjoy taking the girls out for dinner, theater, museums, and anywhere else they might want to go. But, Tuesday nights the girls would not go out because they just had to watch American Idol, followed by a taping of America's Top Model, and sometimes Bobbie Jo wanted to just stay home to read. Even when they were watching TV she was reading a book (with the exception of during America's Top Model). His credit cards were taking quite a hit with all the dinners, theater, and other events he was hosting for them, as he always insisted on paying for everything. But, the girls' company was well worth the price. Spending all that money was also helpful in assuaging his feelings of guilt over getting peeks at their young bodies. The girls though suggested that he was doing all of that because of the family feud, because the Hendersons got all the money. The girls made it clear that they couldn't care less about the money. Heck, if it hadn't turned out this way they wouldn't have had a rich uncle in the big city with whom they could shack up for a few days! The last couple of hours of each evening were also a delight, if not a pressure, as the girls liked to get into their night clothes and munch popcorn while watching television, which usually meant staying up late enough to see reruns of The Girls Next Door, Pretty Wicked, SCAASI Jewelry, Real Housewives, or Chelsea Lately. Betty Jo or Billie Jo might even snuggle with him on the couch. Snuggling with their uncle apparently was very special for them (on the fourth day of their visit Paul stopped off at a clothing store to purchase more jockey briefs). Bobbie Jo though would curl up instead with a book, putting on her spectacles (which she was a bit self-conscious about), reading by the light of a lamp on an end table by the couch as her sisters were engrossed with the television, and their uncle. The sisters would snuggle up tightly against him, resting a head on his shoulder, pressing a breast against his arm. Billie Jo would even rest her head in his lap. That was very, very difficult, feeling Betty Jo's breast against his arm and Billie Jo's hands lightly resting on his thigh. He quickly developed an erection and hoped dearly that his jockey briefs would be successful in hiding it. He believed his briefs must be successful as Billie Jo never seemed to let on that she noticed its presence. She did though at times squirm her head around in his lap, trying to find a more comfortable position, eventually resting a check right on the knob He offered her a pillow, suggesting that would be a bit more comfortable, and appropriate. But, she said she didn't mind. She did though once turn her pretty face up to him to briefly complain, "Seems to me you could use a purse, Uncle Paul, for all the big, lumpy things you keep stuffed down in her pockets." Paul's heart skipped a beat, wondering if one her sisters understood the problem even if their oldest sister was apparently entirely naive. But nobody intimated that they knew what that lump was all about. The girls even teased him in the second week of their visit, calling him into their room after they had gone to bed, asking him to tuck them in for the night, just like he had done when they were little. "Please Uncle Paul!" They all called out from their bedroom. "Hush now!" He called out from the living room. "You girls get to sleep now. I have to go to work tomorrow." It all reminded him of the times he had babysat the girls. He didn't have to go to work then but they were often so difficult to get to bed, and to sleep. "Please, please, please!" He smiled. He knew they were just playing around. He could hear them giggling through the door. And it was rather cute. He was indeed tempted to actually tuck them in, and not just because he was curious as to how they would look all snuggled up in bed. It was actually rather playfully innocent fun. But, it was his rather licentious curiosity that made him hesitate, and not just because he feeling guilty over his thoughts. He was also worried that his prurient interest might be rather apparent, given his swelling. Still, it wasn't terribly evident. His briefs were quite tight as his plain black PJ bottoms were very loose. He took a deep breath, opened the door, and stuck his head in. He smiled. The girls looked so cute lying there in the same bed together. He was indeed reminded of the times he visited the Bodines so many years ago. Time seems to go by so fast, too fast really. He couldn't rightly tell if they were cuter then or now. They were clearly so grown up but the resemblance to the days long gone was quite clear, at least at this particular moment. He tried to provide the three girls with a very stern expression. "Now you young ladies quiet down or I just might..." He didn't finish his sentence. "You might just what, Uncle Paul?" Billie Jo asked, a mischievous grin on her face. "Y'all gonna' give us a whuppin?" Bobbie Jo asked, a comparable grin on her face. Betty Jo began kicking her feet beneath the covers, which she pulled all the way to her nose, peeking out from beneath the blankets, trying desperately not to giggle. Paul was indeed sorely tempted. These girls did not appreciate how much fun that would in fact be for him. He imagined having all three of them get on all knees and elbows, poking their luscious taut bottoms out over the edge of the bed, then providing each of them with the spanking they deserved for keeping him up so late. Perhaps he could even pull their panties down. His cock swelled mightily at the thought of doing that. "Just won'tcha' please tuck us in, Uncle Paul?" Bobbie Jo. "It'll just be like ole times." "We'll then go right to sleep, we promise," Betty Jo added. "Yes, we promise to be good, Uncle Paul," Billie Jo reassured him, removing an excuse for any possible spanking but that had been a rather over-the-top and inappropriate fantasy in any case. Even if he had done it (which he most assuredly could not) he would probably have lived to regret it. Nothing good would really come from allowing himself to be driven by one of his more perverse fantasies. Paul sighed and stepped into the room. He might as well just tuck them in. He glanced briefly down as he made his way to Bobbie Jo, who was lying on the far left side of the bed. He couldn't see much of any bulge as glanced down and it didn't appear that the girls were noticing anything. His legs though did feel a bit unsteady as he proceeded to her prone body. He kept telling himself that it was all very innocently playful fun. It was only his more base fantasies that degraded the paternal, affectionate act into something more shameful. He leaned over and pulled up the blankets so they fit neatly just at her lily white neck, and then tucked the covers a bit under the mattress. He reached over and gently removed her glasses from her face. "Now, don't let me catch you reading with the light on, Bobbie Jo. You get right to sleep now." Bobbie Jo giggled. She did have a reputation for staying up late reading, although her sisters wouldn't rightly let her do that. "And," Paul added, as he made his way around the bed to the other side, "I don't want you kicking and squirming all night long, Betty Jo. You mind yourself and let your sisters sleep." "Yes, Uncle Paul," Betty Jo answered, giving him a little pout. She so hated having to sleep in the middle. When he got to Billie Jo she sat up a bit. "How about a good night kiss, Uncle Paul." The blankets and sheets fell from her chest, exposing to his view her full, soft, white breasts which were not that well hidden beneath her baby doll top. Paul hesitated a bit, momentarily blinded by the sight. "Billie Jo!" Bobbie Jo protested. Billie Jo was such a flirt, and it so annoyed her youngest sister. The boys were always most interested in Billie Jo, ignoring her entirely. Her mother though said it was all her own fault as she so often acted more like a boy than a girl. Still, it was not very fair to get Uncle Paul's attention by showing him her boobies like that all the time. She knew darned well that their mother, and father, would not approve of such a thing. Paul tried to pretend like he hadn't noticed and leaned over to provide the oldest of the three a kiss goodnight on the forehead. Billie Jo looked disappointed. "Ain'tcha gonna kiss me on the lips, Uncle Paul?" He looked back down at her. She was so darned pretty. Somehow a kiss on the lips right now just didn't seemed right. He ignored her request and tucked her in as well. He stepped back and admired his effort. Gracious these girls were a pretty sight! They looked so awfully cute lined up in the bed, their pretty heads comfortably sunk into their pillows, their brunette, red, and blonde hair providing such pretty color, their eyes twinkling with gay flirtation, their breasts making six wonderful little hills stretching across the bed. Their breasts didn't do that when they were youngsters. His cock swelled within his briefs and PJ bottoms. It was time to make his exit. He made his way to the bedroom door. "Now you girls get right to sleep." "You won't read us a bedtime story?" Betty Jo asked. "Oh yes, please do!" Bobbie Jo added. Paul just shook his head. He had done that for them when they were little, particularly for Betty Jo. But he knew they were just kidding. "If you girls behave yourselves maybe I will, but not tonight." He looked back at them as he reached for the light switch. "Now off to sleep now." He turned off the light and departed. "Goodnight, Uncle Paul!" They all called out to him. "Don't let the bed bugs bite!" Billie Jo added. "Sweet dreams," he replied as he quietly shut the door. Paul did wonder if perhaps he should stop admiring and fondling their frilly unmentionables in the bathroom. Perhaps he should also avoid stealing glances as each of them had their breakfast, and taking peeks up their towels while they did their nails. After all, they were his nieces. He recalled how cute they were even as little girls, albeit he certainly had never thought about them in the way he was doing now. Was it wrong to have those feelings now, with them all grown up as young ladies? Perhaps it was, but enjoying the sight was just so difficult to resist. After all, it was just innocent peeks and glances. But, it became a bit more so into the third week. Billie Jo said that she wasn't feeling so well and wouldn't join them for the evening. Bobbie Jo and Betty Jo wanted to see "My life in ruins." But, Billie Jo asked Paul to stay home with her, as she wanted the company. She didn't like being home alone when she wasn't feeling well. Paul had read the reviews of the movie the other two girls wanted to see. Not only was it a chick flick, it didn't seem to be a particularly good one. Paul decided to stay home with Billie Jo. He gave her sisters enough money to see the movie and have some snacks. They tried hard to decline the funding. He had spent so much money already. But, Paul wouldn't hear of it. He felt bad about them having to be on their own in the big city. He was at least glad that the movie was playing in a neighborhood theater, within walking distance from his condo. He warned them not to talk to strangers. It seemed a bit silly to do so, but these girls were so gosh darned friendly to everyone they met! Billie Jo was very grateful that he was staying with her. But, as soon as the girls left she announced that she was going to take a long bath. She said a bath always made her feel better. Paul was a bit surprised at that, as he could hardly keep her company if she was taking a bath. He considered picking up a book to read, and then recalled that he pretty much had gotten rid of all his books. He did, at one time, have a few books. But, he found that he just never read them and the book shelves were so much more useful for storing DVD's, CD's, computer games, and the occasional VHS. He eventually just got rid of most, if not all, of his books, as they were only taking up useful space. He considered Betty Jo's books. There was a stack of them on the end table by the couch. But, he quickly found that they didn't really interest him. One was "Beautiful Brows: The Ultimate Guide to Styling, Shaping, and Maintaining Your Eyebrows." Weird. He never paid any attention whatsoever to his eyebrows, let alone consider reading a book about them. Not all of the books though were concerned with make-up. There was a novel ("Steel Magnolias;" it looked like a chick book), a book on measuring and modeling ozone exposure (that surely must be boring), and a book on plants for southern gardens. He went back to the book on eyebrows. It did at least have pictures of pretty eyes. After awhile he heard, "Uncle Paul!" Billie Jo called out for him from the bathroom. "Could you be a sweetheart and fetch me some lemon grass herbal tea?!" He was happy to do that. He felt he should at least do something for the girl. Plus, frankly, the book was really quite boring. When it was ready he came through the girls' bedroom to get to the bathroom. That was the shortest route from the kitchen. He was struck by how messy they kept the room. There were clothes and magazines strewn everywhere, along with even more beauty products covering the dresser and any other open table space. He shook his head in wonder as he carefully stepped over the clothes. He lightly tapped on the bathroom door. "It's unlocked!" Billie Jo called out from inside the bathroom. "Bring it in." Paul opened the door, intending on just laying the tea on the counter without fully entering the room. He was instantly struck by how the air in the bathroom was so misty and scented. It seemed to be some sort of lavender. Perhaps it was the soap crystals but he also noted a couple of scented candles. "Here, I'm in the tub. Could you bring it to me?" He could indeed do that, and wondered why he was even hesitating in doing so. This would provide a much more enticing voyeuristic opportunity than simply peeking up a towel. But, perhaps because she was sick he didn't feel so good about it. It was one thing to ogle her breasts when she so brazenly displayed them beneath a sheer nightie. It was another to take advantage of a niece who wasn't feeling well, who was only asking him for a cup of tea to help make her feel better. This was hardly the time to be admiring a niece's breasts, when she was feeling so vulnerable, so needy, so dependent. But, once he turned to look at Billie Jo he could see that she was largely hidden from view. She had made a rather large bubble bath. All that was in sight were her head and hands. Her arms and breasts did appear to be above the water line, but they were well covered by a vast expanse of soap bubbles. He breathed in deeply the lavender scent and the lovingly enticing sight of his niece. He averted his eyes though as he approached the tub. He couldn't really see much, but he wanted to make sure that she knew he fully intended to respect her privacy. "Don't be so silly, Paul. You can't see anything anyway. Come on, sit next to me. I don't like being alone." Paul carefully laid the cup of tea on the edge of the bathtub. He considered sitting on the toilet, but that seemed rather odd, as well as rather distant and unfriendly. He sat down on the edge of the tub, as she had requested, and quickly felt some moisture soaking through his slacks and briefs. He averted his eyes as she reached for the tea, as the movement caused her breasts to wiggle, shaking off some suds. She smiled up at him from the bubbles. "Mercy me, Paul, you don't have to look away. I don't mind." "Excuse me?" "My bosoms. I don't mind if you look at 'em." She had seemed to make that very clear most every morning and evening. "Yes, well, I'm not so sure that your parents would approve, nor," he added, "would mine." "Paul! How old are you? Are you still a little boy?" She took a sip of tea. "Mmmmm, nice tea. I sure like lemon grass tea." She continued her speech. "My gracious, you're more than twice as old as me, and as I recall I'm twenty years old. Do y'all still do what yer parents tell you to do?" "No, no, but, really, um, I was meaning to suggest. Well..." He didn't finish his sentence. Living with My Nieces "Suggest what?" "Well, um, I really can't help but have noticed, well, you know, what you wear, at night. I was just thinking." She cut him off and gave him an exaggerated pout. "You don't like my nighties?" "No, no, it's not that." "You don't think I look pretty in them? I do declare, what a downright unneighborly thing to say to a girl. You city boys are kinda rude ain'tcha, and I'm even yer niece!" She took another sip of tea. "Well, yes, yes, that's just it. You're my niece. I really shouldn't see you, you know, like that." "Paul! Mercy me, what kind of a girl do you think I am! We're all family here. There's nothing to hide among kin folk. How were the Henderson children raised anyway? Were y'all scared of yer bodies?" "Well, no, no. It's not that. It's just that..." She cut him off again. "Do you want to join me in the tub?" "What?!" He really wasn't so sure he heard her correctly. He really could not have heard her correctly. "It'll be like ole times. Don'tcha recall?" "I most certainly did not ever share a bath with you!" That would have been most clearly inappropriate. "Don'tcha recall givin' me a bath when I was a youngun'?" Now that she mentioned it he did recall that. And, even then he found it rather awkward. He just wasn't experienced in child rearing. "Remember I used to ask you to join me." Yes, she had done that. It had been rather cute. He nodded his head, quietly chuckling at the memory. "You never did though." "No, no, I guess I didn't." "It kind of hurt my feelings." Paul smiled. He knew it probably didn't, or at least not much. Billie Jo quietly suggested, "You can make it up to me now." "Well," he chuckled, "I'm not so sure that it would be like old times. I think it might be rather different now, don't you think?" He turned his face away as his eyes kept drifting down to those sudsy booby mounds. "Oh Uncle Paul, don't you recall we used to all go skinny dippin' in Tucker's Lake?" "You girls did. I always declined," he reminded her. "Yeah. You were a poopy head then too." But, he stood his ground. "Billie Jo, really. This just isn't right." Billie Jo frowned. "It's not fair. You got to see me all naked. I never got to see y'all." Paul's heart was racing. Was that a compelling argument? He couldn't tell. "What if your sisters came back?" "They won't be back for at least a couple of hours. You know they'll stop by Baskin-Robbins. They just think that's gooder'n grits." That was quite true. Betty Jo always kept insisting on stopping there. But, this was wrong. Very wrong. "I really don't think I should do anything like that." "Uncle Paul, y'all don't want me to tell papa that you been sneaking peeks up my towel, do yah?" Paul's face reddened. He shouldn't, however, have been too surprised. She did at times seem to catch him. He just kept hoping that she hadn't noticed. "And, that wasn't something stuffed in your pocket the other night, was it. You don't want papa to know you been poking boners in my face, do y'all?" Blackmail was a very strong argument, if she was not in fact bluffing, which she could very well be. He seriously doubted that she had any interest in getting him into trouble with the family. The girls wouldn't be able to stay at his place again. And, if he did join her in the tub she would at least become a full partner in the crime. Still, he felt so uncertain, so guilty. She might be full grown but she was, after all, still his niece. It was his responsibility as the elder to act responsibly, to curb their youthful urges before they did something they would someday regret, and getting naked with their uncle was probably one of those things. Before Paul could say anything Billie Jo added, "I'm not contagious or nothin'. I just had a tummy ache, and it's right fine now." That was all? He wondered if it had even been true. Billie Jo tried another approach. "Uncle Paul! I reckon you think I'm trying to take advantage of you, ain'tcha!" "What? No! What? No, not at all!" "Uncle Paul! What a dirty, nasty mind you have! My gracious, I'm yer niece! What were you thinking? Are you some dirty ole' man or somethin'?" "Really, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking anything." "It'll all be right innocent. Or, at least, it better be! Don't y'all try to take advantage of me now, you hear?" "No, no, of course not." "I'll even close my eyes while you get stripped down, and once yer all in the tub nobody will be able to see nothin'. It'll just be all clean fun! Now, hurry up before the suds go down." She closed her eyes, apparently assuming that all discussion was now over. Paul stared at his grinning niece, and the large mound of bubbles still hiding her breasts. Heck, he had seen much more of them that very morning. With his heart rate accelerating, his mind cloudy and confused, he got undressed, and rather quickly in order to avoid the suds going down any further, hopefully getting this done before the two other nieces got back. But, once he stepped into the tub he had to pause. The water was so hot! Goodness, how could she stand it this hot. Grimacing he brought in his other foot, and again paused to acclimate himself to the temperature. And, then, the most difficult part, he began to lower himself into the tub, where his testicles would meet the stinging heat. Billie Jo opened her eyes, ostensibly to be sure that she was providing sufficient room for Paul in the tub, but taking advantage of the opportunity to have a peek. "Uncle Paul, tarnation, yer quite the man, ain'tcha." "Billie Jo!" Paul quickly stood back up straight and covered himself with both hands. "My gracious, are you big city boys skeered of showing yourself off to a country girl?" Her chiding had no effect on Paul. He wouldn't remove his hands. He kept himself covered as best he could with one hand as he gingerly lowered himself into the tub, using the other hand to brace himself on the edge of the tub. Billie Jo giggled at the sight of the cowardly uncle. "You're such a yaller dog," she teased. "Shut up!" Paul complained. "Well, you sure look so darned silly, holding onto yerself like that. You skeered you're gonna lose them or somethin'?" He kind of was. It sure made it a lot easier to be covering them as he lower them into the hot water. Still, once he was under the water he had to admit that it did feel rather nice. He rarely took baths. He showered to get clean quickly, not to enjoy the experience. The only time he had bathed in recent years was when he had hurt an ankle and he thought a hot soaking might be good for it. He then noticed how peaceful and relaxing it was to just lie there and soak. But, once his ankle healed he quickly reverted to his brief functional showers. Well, this was nice. He even enjoyed the lavender scent. "You like?" Billie Jo asked. "You know, I have to admit that it's rather nice, now that I'm in here." "Told you. Now, here, you wash my back." "What?" "My back. You done that when I was a young'un. Nothin' shameful about it." Before he could object Billie Jo, without warning, leaned all the way back, dropping much of her head and all of her hair into the water, her breasts rising up in the air, like two giant snowy mountains suddenly thrusting out through thick white billowy suds clouds. And, once her hair was thoroughly wet she just as quickly sat back up straight and then stood up boldly in front of Paul, the suds falling from her body as the water drained from her hair and face, falling from her like a stripper, standing now before him pretty much stark naked, her cunt just inches from his eyes. Paul got a real good look at her and then politely turned away. She had such a sweet looking cunnie. He was reminded of the pussy of Lovely Anne, a Hungarian nude model he so much enjoyed. Lovely Anne was known for her astounding breasts, but Paul also appreciated her full, pouting pussy lips. Many a time he had masturbated to her images, and films, and for a brief moment he felt he was looking at her lips in real life. His dick swelled beneath the suds. Thank goodness for the bubbles. This bath was beginning to lose its innocence. Billie Jo turned around and presented her bottom to Paul, which he could now look at with more ease, as she couldn't see him looking. This was a part of Billie Jo's body that he had not yet seen. Not surprisingly she was really quite attractive from this angle as well, as her derriere was beautifully round, white, and now quite shiny and slick. His eyes almost popped out as she lowered herself back into the tub, for in doing so her thighs and butt crack spread apart, opening to his eyes a brief glimpse of her little brown star. Billie Jo returned to the water, this time on her knees, which exposed more of her back to make it easier for Paul to bathe her. "Here," she said, handing him a wet wash cloth and a purplish colored, lavender scented bar of soap. Paul went right to work. It was a rather pleasant assignment. Billie Jo had very nice smooth skin. Plus, the moment was so nicely intimate, and perhaps in fact quite innocent. He was reminded of when he had indeed given her a bath those many years ago. Still, it was difficult to ignore the fact that Billie Jo's big boobs were largely exposed on the other side. He would occasionally get a glimpse of a bit of breast, from around behind. The flesh of her breast looked even whiter and smoother than her back. Wouldn't it be nice if she needed her breasts bathed? He sternly commanded his mind to shut up. He was managing to avoid a full erection but he had enough of one that it would no longer be so easy to hide with his hands. "Mmmmm," Billie Jo sighed. "That was mighty nice, Uncle Paul. Now, let's do the other side." "The other side?" He felt his heart freeze. "Well sure, silly. Makes no sense no how to wash just one side." Billie Jo slowly inched around in the tub, this time keeping the lower half of her body under the suds and the water. Paul's heart started up again, and was now in fact racing as he watched Billie Jo slowly turn around, to face him, to face him with those wondrous breasts. If he was to end this dangerous dalliance before it was no longer just innocent play, this was probably it. But, he felt like he was in one of those dreams, facing some horrific danger but was unable to move, nor even scream for help. He could not bring himself to say or do anything. Yes, he was the victim here. That would be his defense. He sat frozen in the hot water, awaiting his fate. Which was being treated to a full frontal view of Billie Jo's boobs, with much of the soapy suds now washed away. They were such a wonder to behold: thrusting out so full, so round, so shiny, so white. The smooth silky skin even glistened with their wetness, and the nipples were standing up so very, very tall. Perhaps they just did that when they got wet but Paul liked to think that they were happy to meet him and were standing up tall so that they wouldn't be missed. "Paul, don't stare like that. Yer making me uncomfortable." "Oh, yeah, sure, sure. Sorry." She moved the tea off of the rim of the tub, onto the floor, and reached for her bath oil; lavender of course. His eyes remained glued to her tits. It's really quite hypnotic how breasts wiggled and bobbled, as if they are in fact trying to put on a little dance for you. "Now use this," Billie Jo instructed as she handed him the oil, "it helps to soften the skin." Paul's hands trembled as he squeezed out a large glob of oil into the palms of each hand, and then hesitated before applying it to her skin. He looked anxiously into her eyes, wondering if she really meant for him to do this. She just looked back at him naively, smiling sweetly, although perhaps with a bit of a twinkle in her eyes. "Now, don't be a shy goose. It's perfectly innocent. I'll be shampooin' while you do the oilin'." She reached for her bottle of shampoo, lavender of course, and squeezed out a big glob. However, as soon as his hands made contact with her breasts any sense of this being innocent was itself washed away. He had never felt fuller, softer, more glorious boobs before. Well, at least he now knew that they were natural breasts. He suspected all three girls' breasts were large by nature. Any hope of losing his erection was now long gone, as he could feel that his cock was rising to full power. Thank goodness for the thick layer of suds! "Mmmmmm," Billie Jo moaned. "It's so nice havin' y'all give me a bath again." As she lathered her hair her breasts wiggled and jiggled in his hands. This was unlike any bath he had given her as a child. She spoke to him through the shampoo suds falling down across her face, onto her slippery slick boobs. "See how the oil makes them feel so soft and smooth?" "Oh yes, yes, I do," he replied, making sure that he was getting every centimeter nicely oiled. "Do yer city girls have skin this smooth?" Frankly, he had never felt a breast that wasn't impressively soft and smooth, although it was certainly true that he had never felt one so slick with silky slippery oil. "No," he softly replied, "Quite honestly, no." Billie Jo paused in her lathering to peek with one eye to ask, "Do you like how I've grown up, Uncle Paul?" "Yes, dear," he softly whispered, noticing that it was really quite difficult to grasp and squeeze a boob that is so thoroughly oiled. "You don't think it's wrong to wash your niece's boobies, do you, Uncle Paul?" "No, no, I think it's perfectly fine," he replied. What else could he say at this point? Billie Jo returned to washing her hair, thoroughly enjoying the sight of her uncle so absorbed in the process of oiling her breasts. She so much enjoyed teasing and pleasing men. Plus, the feel of his masculine hands on her breasts was pretty nice too. "Make sure you get the nipples, Uncle Paul. Work a lot of oil into them." "Yes, absolutely." Billie Jo did appear to have particularly large nipples, which became even larger as he worked the oil into the little stiffies, squeezing, pinching, and pulling her pointy nips. "Mmmmm," Billie Jo sighed. "That feels so, so nice, Uncle Paul. I just love to have my nipples pinched." Paul happily complied, causing Billie Jo to whimper with pleasure. He knew this was so, so wrong, but how can a man really refuse the pleasure of oiling a pretty young niece's stiff nubs? But, she quickly broke it off, to suggest, "Alright then, now yer turn." Whoa! He froze in mid-nipple oil. "C'mon, silly, stand up." "What?" "Stand up." "Um, I, uh, really I don't think." "Oh don't be so modest, Uncle Paul. You got to see how I've grown up. The least you can do is let me see you. It's just kin folk gettin' to know one another. I was always a might bit curious about y'all." He had to wonder if she realized that he was now sporting a rather large erection. There was simply no way he should display that to his niece, no matter her age. "We're not going to do nothin'. We're just bathin'. Papa always said, a family that bathed together, stayed together." Did he really say that? Paul wondered, and then whispered, as if someone might overhear them. "Listen, I just can't let you see it right now." "Oh my," Billie Jo teased, "Uncle Paul has a stiffie, doesn't he." Paul's face went red. "Billie Jo! C'mon, cut it out." "Uncle Paulie has a hard-on! I'm just going to have to tell Betty Jo and Bobbie Jo all about it. They'll be plumb tickled pink when they hear that!" "No, no, please don't do that. I'll stand up." She most definitely had him over the pickle barrel. He slowly got to his feet, water rushing off as he did so. Billie Jo rinsed the shampoo off her hands and picked up the bath oil. As soon as his erection appeared above the water, she gushed, "Well hush my mouth, Uncle Paul is hornier than a billy goat, he is." Well, at least she clearly wasn't upset about it, although it wasn't Billie Jo being upset that was his greatest concern. This would hardly help with the Henderson and Bodine rift if Papa Bodine found out that he had exposed his hard stiff cock to his daughter. No this would not help the rift at all. Billie Jo squeezed some bath oil onto the palms of her hands and applied them to her uncle's stout shaft. "Oh yes, Uncle Paul most definitely has a mighty fine pecker. I bet the city girls just quiver at the sight of this hunk of timber." Paul had received his share of hand jobs, but never before in which the girl's hands were oiled. He realized he would have to purchase some of this oil himself, for the nights in which he was alone, which was frankly quite a few nights. She smiled sweetly up at him as her feminine fingers slid all around and around his staff and crown. "Now, ain't it at least a might bit fun to be bathin' with your niece, Uncle Paul?" "Yes," he gasped, looking down into those large round blue eyes looking up so innocently at him past his towering stiff dick. Yes, bathing with one's niece is a very fine experience indeed. Billie Jo's fist was sliding up and down his shaft like a well lubricated piston. She used the other to massage his knob with her palm, occasionally bringing in her fingers to caress and tickle the lips of his crown. It was excruciatingly wonderful torture. She got up higher on her knees to bend over and breath in deeply his scent. "Mmmmm," she sighed, "lavender penis. It smells so pretty." Not quite what he would hope to hear but the sight of her sniffing his cock was quite engaging. "We shouldn't forget the family jewels, now." She again smiled up at him as she let go of his shaft and carefully, gently cupped his balls. Paul lurched at the first touch, but as much out of excited stimulation as nervous apprehension. "My, my, my," Billie Jo said as she cupped and tenderly squeezed his balls, "I think maybe Uncle Paul would rival Uncle Jed's prize berger bull." Paul's dick swelled and twitched in appreciation. That was more like it. It was quite an exaggeration, to say the least, but any man will enjoy that kind of flattery. He smiled with pride as he again looked down into those sparkling blue eyes, sighing deeply at the feel of fingers tickling both his balls and knob at the same time. "How much seed you reckon are in these truck nuts?" If she kept this up she would soon find out, and all over her face. Perhaps Billie Jo had the same thought, as she suddenly released both of her hands. "I better rinse out before any of this shampoo gets into my eyes. I think you need a rinsin' too." Paul, a little breathless, his heart pounding, lowered himself back into the tub as Billie Jo again turned around. She looked back over her shoulder to say, "Don't you hate it when you have to stick yer face down into the tub." She took a deep breath and leaned all the way forward to dip her head and hair into the bath water to rinse out the shampoo, raising her bottom well out of the water and sticking it right in Paul's face. Paul was shocked and stunned. Billie Jo's naked ass was just inches from his eyes. The soft white shaved pouch was dripping water, seemingly from its feminine slit, her ass cheeks mildly parted such that her puckered red rose bud was winking at him, all wet and sparkly. He reached down for his dick and squeezed it. It would probably be rude to suddenly stand up and slam his cock down into the wet, shiny, glistening cunt, especially with her head under the water. That was hardly the decent way for an uncle to treat a niece. But he just couldn't help at least considering the possibility. She was even wriggling it at him as she was shaking her head beneath the water, rinsing out her hair. Women will at times subtly wiggle their bottoms when they walk, often rather flirtatiously so. But there was really nothing subtle or innocent about this. It was frankly quite openly lewd. Living with My Nieces Then, just as suddenly, the lovely white moon was lowered back into the clouds of suds as Billie Jo raised her head out of the water. But, she wasn't done rinsing. With her eyes closed due to the soapy water dripping down her face, she gingerly turned around in the tub to again face him, soapy water and bubbles now falling along those snowy white jiggle mounds. Maybe he should perhaps help steady them? He reached out and gently grasped hold of her wriggling boobs. "Uncle Paul!" Billie Jo yipped at the surprising feel of her uncle's hands grasping her tits. "I don't want my niece to slip and fall in the tub, you know," he explained. Billie Jo giggled. "That's mighty gallant of you, Uncle Paul. I'll let papa know you took real good care of his little girl." Well, that was certainly better than telling on him. He grinned as he fondled her boobs as she got all turned around. "Make some room," she said, brushing him away, "I need to rinse now on this side." It did make sense. The water was now thick with shampoo on her side of the tub. He spread apart his legs as best he could, which really wasn't much given the constraints of the tub. As soon as Billie Jo's face hit the water she moved forward to slide her mouth down over Paul's dick. Paul lurched sharply in the tub, almost slipping down under the water. He had never experienced a girl giving him a blow job under water and it was a rather shocking and jarring sensation. "Billie Jo!" he gasped, but obviously to no avail as she could no longer hear him. Of course, it wasn't the case that he would really object to having his niece's mouth on his dick, particularly as Billie Jo was clearly very, very good with her lips and tongue. And it was particularly impressive that she was doing it underwater. Billie Jo though had always been good at swimming long distances underwater (Betty Jo was even better). Her lungs were apparently quite strong. For a moment Paul wondered if breast size had something to do with lung capacity, but he quickly rejected such a ridiculous idea, and he settled back in the hot, slippery, soothing tub of soapy water as he gazed upon the upraised hillocks of Billie Jo's bottom poking out beyond the bubbles, basking in the pleasure of her tongue washing the troubles away from the knob of his dick. Nieces can be so sweet to their uncles, so caring. An uncle can almost be like a daddy. Billie Jo could not, of course, keep that up for ever. She did eventually rise up, and rather quickly so, gasping for breath, her breasts heaving with each gulp of air, soapy water falling down the deep slopes of her breasts. Paul so much wanted to fuck them. They would be so slippery and slick right now. He in fact was tempted to suddenly just stand up, clasp them in his hands, and slide his dick up in between them and all the way back to her mouth. But, before he could do so Billie Jo announced, "Okay then, yer turn." She rubbed away the water from her eyes, reached for the shampoo, and then suddenly pulled his face into her slippery soft wet boobs so that she could lather up his hair. Paul had his hair cut within the neighborhood at one of the better hair salons. It was a place where women got their hair cut and styled. He much preferred that over barbers. Barbers just seemed to know only one way to cut a man's hair, whereas stylists were skilled at providing just the precise cut that he wanted. Plus, getting your hair washed beforehand by a pretty woman with large breasts was always a nice bonus. Many a time he enjoyed the occasional bump of a boob against his shoulder or even his face. Well, this shampoo by Billie Jo put his hair stylists all to shame. He was lost in the wonderful world of Billie Jo's soft, squishy, slippery, spongy bubbly boobs. She not only didn't mind him rubbing and kneading his face around and around all over those delightful mammaries, she encouraged his rude and impertinent behavior through her vigorous lathering of his hair. "Now, we just gotta get this hair all spic and span, don't we Uncle Paul." "Yes'um," he mumbled, his voice heavily muffled by Billie Jo's fleshy jugs. When she was done she pushed him away and instructed, "Alright then, spin around and rinse it out." She edged back to give him room. He felt like laughing but she seemed to be quite serious. He carefully turned, trying not to cause any water to slip over the edge of the tub, and then bent over to thrust his head below the surface, just like she had down. He was not particularly excited about lifting up and exposing his bottom as she had done for him. He seriously doubted that she would like to have a comparably close-up view of his middle-aged ass. He did his best to avoid having to do so, albeit it wasn't that easy to get his face down in deep without lifting up his butt part way. Billie Jo grasped hold of his ass and lifted it for him, much to his embarrassment, which soon escalated. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! She got in three good slaps before his head sprung out of the water and his butt splashed back in, causing quite a bit of water to flood over the edge and onto the floor. "Hey!" Paul objected. "You just got a good whoop ass!" Billie Jo laughed. "I didn't do that to you!" "No, I reckon you did, but I think that was quite a few years ago. I was just reapin' my revenge." Paul had no memory of ever spanking any of his nieces, but he didn't argue with her about it. Billie Jo instructed, "Now turn around and give yourself a good rinse over here." Her smiled broadened as he again carefully reversed direction in the tub. As he made his way around she spread open her legs, as best she could, waiting for his rinse. He felt he knew what was expected of him. He got onto his knees, his erection again poking out through the suds like a periscope looking for a target to launch a torpedo. Once in position he took a deep breath and literally dived down to her cunnie. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. He didn't have the lung capacity of a country girl, and it was even harder than he had expected. As he pressed his mouth against her soft, slippery cunt lips and extended his tongue air quickly escaped from his lungs and bubbled up while water rushed in. He pulled his head from the water, coughing out the soapy water that had slipped into his lungs. "Try again, Uncle Paul. This time I'll help." He took another deep breath and dove back down, and was instantly greeted by the feel of Billie Jo's hands on his head, holding him under the water, pressing his face hard against her cunt. The trick was to just use her lips, keeping his lips pressed hard against the girl's fleshy natural washers. They did provide a rather nice watertight seal. Billie Jo also took the opportunity to use her fingers to help work the lather from his hair as she ground his face against her cunt. "Yes, that's much better," she sighed to nobody in particular. Paul found it almost as pleasurable as his niece. His lips had not touched those of a young lady for many years, and these were no ordinary lips. These were the cunnie lips of his niece, the girl he had babysat and bathed so many years ago. It was perhaps taboo, but maybe that was in part what made it so especially exciting. Without much thought to his safety, present or future, he ground his lips against her stiff nub, although he soon found that he really needed a breath of air and that wasn't going to be found in her cunt, no matter how far in he slipped his tongue. Billie Jo didn't want to drown him, nor did she want to be cruel. But she did keep him down there longer than he would have on his own. He apparently didn't appreciate what a real good rinse he needed. And, the way he struggled in her hands only added to the pleasure his writhing mouth provided against her lips and stiffened nub. But, she did eventually let him up. He quickly extracted his head, gasping for breath, and splashing even more water out of the tub. Billie Jo laughed at the sight. "I reckon you city boys just don't get much practice divin' for muff, do y'all." "No, no," he gasped, at least not that way. Billie Jo asked as she slid closer to him, "Well, what shall we do now, Uncle Paul, now that we're all clean and sparkly?" She rose a bit out of the tub to climb on top of her uncle. They had not, of course, gotten a thorough bathing, but that didn't seem especially important at the moment. Paul fell back against the edge of the tub, extending his legs, lying prone beneath the water and suds, the crown of his cock appearing just above the few suds that remained, like a mushroom growing out of a pond. Billie Jo's mountainous boobs were now towering above him, slowly swinging like true udders. He wondered how many men had suckled those breasts. He felt jealous of every one of them. Youth is so wasted on the young. Would they appreciate them as much as he? Billie Jo reached into the water to grasp hold of Paul's dick and perched her shiny shaved cunnie right above it. Paul could not help thinking that her parents, as well as his own, would most certainly not approve of this. Well, maybe her's would. He had heard those stories about carnal relationships among blood relatives within the mountains of Appalachia. But, he immediately felt guilty for having such a thought. He clearly was not in a position to be passing such judgments. "You will not speak of this to your father...or your sisters?" He had to ask, to be sure. He seriously doubted that the three of them could keep such a secret and, besides, Bobbie Jo and Betty Jo would obviously be quite appalled and shocked. This was perhaps not too surprising, given Billie Jo's flirtatious, boy-crazy nature, but it would not sleep well with the two younger sisters, perhaps even not with himself that night. Billie Jo smiled down at him, her lips hugging the tip of his dick. He couldn't tell if she was smiling mischievously or reassuringly. She made a cross across her lovely left breast. "It'll be our little secret, Uncle Paul." He smiled back as Billie Jo began to lower her cunnie onto his cock, slowly taking his dick up into the very deliciously warm and wet, clinging folds of her cunt. She also leaned forward and brought the nipple of one of those voluminous breasts to his lips. "You just suckle on niece's teat like a good little uncle while she gives yer wiener an ole fashioned humpin'." Paul had never made love to a woman while lying in a bathtub. There was really something quite primally satisfying about it, his whole body engulfed by the warm water while his cock was similarly absorbed by the even warmer flesh of Billie Jo's wet cunt. It was like having sex within a womb. He sucked and nibbled on Billie Jo's nipple like a very hungry boy. Billie Jo teased him. "My gracious, don't you get enough milk in the big city, Uncle Paul?" Paul responded by bringing both hands into the action, grasping hold of those mountainous flesh pillows, squeezing and pawing them like he was back in high school. Billie Jo gasped with delight as she felt her uncle's cock slide all the way up inside. She so much enjoyed the feel of a good hard dick inside her, and this one was all the more special, being kinfolk and all. It seemed only natural that being within the same family would make for a naturally better fit of dick and cunt. It was like they were cut from the same cloth. She wrapped her arms around Paul's neck, pressed her breast more tightly against his mouth, and slowly began to hump her Uncle Paul's hard, stiff dick. She whispered into his ear, "Thanks so much for lettin' us stay here, Uncle Paul." "My pleasure," Paul gasped, reluctantly releasing his lips from her stiff nip. "Really, it's been no problem at all." He tried to return her thrusts but he was fairly tightly pinned down into the tub. He shifted his lips to the other nipple. "The family really needs to git together more often, don't you think?" Billie Jo released an arm from around Paul's neck to slip her hand down into the water, down to her clit. She so much liked to have her button pinched and diddled when her cunnie was being plunged. "Yes, yes, most definitely," Paul exclaimed, finding the propriety of her words contrasting so strongly with the lewdness of her actions. It was like her mouth and cunt were on two different persons. "It's important for the family not to drift apart," she gasped. "They need to stay in touch, in contact, for the good of the clan," she gasped as she humped and humped his cock, water again splashing over the edges of the tub. "Oh yes, yes," Paul moaned, burying his face again in those warm, wet, squishy pillows as every inch of his dick was being squeezed and stroked by the even warmer, wetter, and squishier flesh of Billie Jo's sweet young cunt. "Maybe you could cum to Pixley next summer, Uncle Paul." Her face was contorting with the intensity of her arousal, her excitement, with her effort to continue to speak so nonchalantly as she hungrily and lustfully fucked her uncle's cock. "We could go skinny dippin'." The rate of her thrusts were increasing dramatically, now humping and pumping him with considerable frenzy and force. "Wouldn't that be gooder'n grits!" "Fuck yes!" Paul gushed, as did the water from the tub and his cum from his dick, his dick jerking and twitching within his niece's clutching, twitching cunt. "Oh Uncle Paul," Billie Jo sighed as she felt her orgasm sweep through her as well. "Kinfolk is everythin'," she moaned as her body shuddered and shivered within his arms. They held each other tightly as they were both washed by the waves and tides of their orgasms: Paul feeling his dick repeatedly squirt and spurt his semen deep up inside his niece's quim; Billie Jo smiling with even deeper satisfaction as she felt his cock unload his seed within her. She did so much enjoy the feel of a man releasing his load deep up inside her young womanhood. It just felt so right, and so much more so being all within the family. She never felt closer to her uncle than she did right now. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "Wake up! Wake up!" "What? Who? What time is it?" Paul tried to pull his mind from its deep slumber. He always found it difficult to wake up in the morning. The very beginning was the worst time of the day. He would always remain in bed for a number of minutes with his eyes still closed, trying to get his mind awake enough to open them, and when that was accomplished he would still just stare at the ceiling for awhile, so much not wanting to have to haul himself out of bed. He wondered why was he always so tired in the morning. It did probably have something to do with staying up too late. It didn't seem so late when he was in high school, but apparently he was growing old. How odd to feel that way. Well, it probably didn't help that his nieces were keeping him up even later, and apparently one of them was now even trying to get him to get up even earlier in the morning. But why? Did she want some pancakes or something? "What time is it?" he asked groggily. It sure didn't feel like the morning. "It's about 1 in the mornin'," Betty Jo said. "I had a nightmare." "What?" "I couldn't sleep. Can't I just stay here with you for a spell?" The sleepiness was beginning to dissipate. His mind was becoming clearer, as was the image of Betty Jo standing beside his bed, in her PJ's, which were rather strikingly cute, if not odd. She was wearing flannel hunting PJ's. Well, they weren't PJ's for hunters. They just had pictures of rabbits, raccoons, possums, squirrels, and rifles all over them. "Betty Jo, you're eighteen years old. You're too old to be afraid of nightmares. Geeez!" The irritation in his voice was rather evident. Perhaps in the morning he would feel bad about being so curt with her, but not right now. Right now he just wanted to get back to sleep, but he felt so irritated that he probably would have some difficulty, and then would be so tired when he did in fact have to get up, later this same morning. "You used to let me sleep with you when I had nightmares." "Go to bed!" Betty Jo didn't really have a nightmare. She was just using that as an excuse to wake up her uncle. But, that ploy clearly wasn't working. "I can't sleep with Billie Jo. She snores." Paul wouldn't know. Perhaps she did. "Well, honey, you can sleep on the couch." He did wonder why this was the first time she had brought this up. Wouldn't Billie Jo have been snoring all of the prior nights? And, why didn't it bother Bobbie Jo? But, still, he did appreciate that it had to be difficult for the three girls to share the same bed. They might have done that when they were kids, but not as young adults. "The couch? That's so uncomfortable, Uncle Paul. Can't I just stay here...with you?" No way! It was bad enough to have had sex with Billie Jo, but at least she was the oldest one, the most mature. Betty Jo might be eighteen but she was the child of the bunch. Not only would Billie Jo probably feel betrayed, but she would also likely be incensed over his exploitation of her younger sister, the babe of the family. Of course, this was all assuming that Betty Jo did in fact have such intentions, which was a rather presumptuous assumption. Perhaps it was all just within his imagination, and a rather perverse one at that. Having had sex with her older sister had contaminated his perception of Betty Jo. Heck, he didn't even know if Betty Jo was dating yet. Well, of course she was, but still, she had always been such a tomboy, far from the typical girl. "Betty Jo, I don't think your sisters would approve of such a thing, of your sharing a bed with me." "I'll sleep way down yonder on the other side. You won't even know I'm there, I promise." Paul shook his head, not to express his refusal but rather his reluctance, his sense of resignation. He knew that it wasn't really fair to force the girls to all sleep in one bed, and Betty Jo did have the short end of the stick in having to be in the center. Plus, frankly, the couch was actually a very poor alternative. But, still, could she keep this secret from the two sisters? Then again, nothing was going to happen. There would be no reason to keep it a secret. Billie Jo might get suspicious but they knew that Betty Jo wouldn't lie to them, nor perhaps could she even do so. "Alright, alright," Paul reluctantly acquiesced. "Oh goody!" Betty Jo loudly exclaimed, clapping her hands in joy. "Shhhh," Paul admonished her. "You'll wake your sisters." That was actually unlikely. There was quite a distance between his bedroom and the guest room; in between was the joint bathroom. He was more troubled by the fact that her loud gaiety was waking him up even further. "Now, get into bed and go to sleep. I have to get up early." "Yes sir," Betty Jo replied. Paul did not immediately go back to sleep. He watched her scamper around to the other side of the bed with a big grin on her face. She did look awfully cute in her PJ's and pigtails, and he could not help noticing how her boobs bounded around beneath the flannel shirt. She apparently did not wear a brassiere underneath her PJ top. His dick swelled within his own pajama bottoms. He had taken off his underwear, not anticipating further visual pleasures while in bed. Apparently he had been wrong about that. Young ladies can be rather unpredictable. Betty Jo quickly climbed under the covers, giggling as she kicked her legs beneath them. "Oh this is so much better, Uncle Paul! I'm just snug as a bug in a mama's rug." She rolled over to lie facing him. "Do you remember when we last shared a bed?" He did indeed recall. It was also when she was having nightmares, so she claimed. He wondered if she was lying back then. She reportedly did have a crush on him when she was little. Living with My Nieces "That was so much fun, Uncle Paul." She fluttered her eye lashes at him. She had such pretty gay eyes. "Are you going to tell me a story tonight?" He smiled. She was not holding to the bargain, but she was being awfully cute about it. "No, no sweetie, not tonight. Uncle Paul has an early day tomorrow and he needs his sleep now." She slipped over closer to him. "Just a short one? You promised us you would, and you were always good at tellin' stories." Paul chuckled. Frankly, he was never good at that at all. It had just been so easy to entertain his young niece. And, he definitely didn't have any stories to tell now. Well, he could tell a story about having a bath with a niece, but somehow he felt that wouldn't be terribly appropriate. "I'm sorry. I really can't remember any of the stories I told back then." That was the truth. "What about 'Bitsy's Promise,' or 'Billy the Beaver's Wedding'?" "My goodness, you remember those stories?" "Land sakes, I shor' do, Uncle Paul! I just loved them. I told them to mother the next day." Paul was impressed, and he had to admit a bit pleased. He had just made those stories up as he went, having no idea where they would go, what would happen, once he started. "Remember how Billy and Betsy were two little beavers who were going to get married but got caught in a hole after a tree fell down and blocked their way out. They had crawled in there to do some huggin' and kissin'." Betty Jo giggled. Paul smiled. That was indeed the story. "Remember how they escaped?" Betty Jo asked. Paul remembered. "Their parents ran to the little girl's house, Betty Jo's I believe." Betty Jo giggled. Paul always inserted her into the stories. "That's right!" "And," Paul continued, "she dug them out." "You remember how it ended?" "Wasn't that the ending?" "Land sakes no! You losin' yer memory or somethin'? Preacher Joe performed the marriage service and it ended with him sayin', 'You can now kiss the bride.'" Paul chuckled. She was right again. He had forgotten about that part. Betty Jo slid up even closer, even snuggling up against him, and asked, "Are you gonna kiss the bride?" She closed her eyes and puckered her lips. "C'mon, I really need my sleep, Betty Jo. You promised." "Just a good night kiss, Uncle Paul, and then we'll go to sleep. I promise." She closed her eyes again and puckered her lips. What do you do with an obstreperous young lady? Probably should give her a spanking. Despite what Billie Jo had said he had never imagined doing such a thing when they were young. But, she was now an adult and he was most certainly imagining it right now. His dick swelled as he considered placing Betty Jo over his lap for a spanking. He could even pull down those flannel PJ bottoms. Her sisters probably wouldn't hear. But, the erection within his own PJ bottoms told him that he really, really shouldn't do that. Just the thought of it was giving him way too much pleasure. Paul took a deep breath of resignation, leaned forward and provided Betty Jo a light peck on the lips. Betty Jo, though, pressed forward even further and reached down under the covers to grasp hold of her uncle's penis. Paul pulled away from her lips to exclaim, "Betty Jo!" But, he couldn't escape the young lady's exploring hand, at least not without getting entirely out of bed. "Oh, Uncle Paul, you've got an awfully big one, don't you." "Betty Jo, please, you're my little niece." "I'm really not so little any more, Uncle Paul." She thrust out her chest. "Do you want to see them?" He whispered, loudly and assertively, "Your sisters are right in the next room." "We don't have to tell them," she argued, but she made a more convincing argument with her hand. She was getting a really good feel of his swelling cock as the only thing covering it was the thin soft cotton of his pajama bottoms. It wasn't what Betty Jo was saying that was turning Paul's head, and his mind. It was what she was doing with her hand. After all, what's wrong with just a little hand job? She was, after all, eighteen. If she wanted to jerk her uncle off beneath the sheets was it really right of him to deny her this little pleasure? Of course, it would have been terribly, terribly wrong when she was little. But, it wasn't now, was it? And, besides, she had such sweet little feminine fingers. Betty Jo added, "They won't s'pect nuthin'. They think their little sister is as innocent as a preacher's daughter." Paul furrowed his brow. He thought the stereotype of the preacher's daughter was a slut. Well, maybe it was different down in Pixley. Well, it didn't matter. His cock might want to go further but it just seemed so wrong. He pulled her hand away. "Betty Jo, please, really. I have to get some sleep." Betty Jo gave him her best pout and then realized she had an even better argument. "I'm mighty limber, Uncle Paul," raising her eyebrows to emphasize her point. "Excuse me?" "Here, let me show y'all." Betty Jo slipped out from under the covers and crawled to the bottom of the bed, her perky little PJ'd bottom wiggling and waving as she did so. Paul's hand returned to his dick, picking up where Betty Jo had left off. It really wasn't going to be that easy to go to sleep now. He would most certainly have some strange dreams. It had been a long, long time since he had a wet dream. How weird would it be to have one now, sharing the bed with his young niece. That would be a little embarrassing. Maybe he should make a visit to the bathroom before he went back to sleep. When Betty Jo reached the bottom of the bed she turned around to face Paul, sat down on her bottom, raised up her legs and fell back, continuing to bring her legs all the way back until she literally had them tucked in and locked behind her head around her neck. Paul's eyes opened as wide as they had ever been. He softly stroked his cock beneath the sheets. It had to be among the most obscene positions he had ever seen. No cunt could be more exposed than now as Betty Jo's thighs were spread as far as they could be. Her cunt was literally poking straight up in the air, just begging to be impaled. Of course, he couldn't see it through her PJs, but he most certainly could imagine it. "Betcha' Billie Jo can't do this." "I don't think very many girls can, Betty Jo," Paul softly agreed. He was indeed very impressed. Betty Jo was by far the most athletic of the sisters. Paul recalled how she so often enjoyed showing off, with her hula hoop, her bicycle riding, her frog giggin', and even horseback riding. She could play many sports better than any boy. Betty Jo reached up and caressed her cunnie through her PJ bottoms. "Just right for plantin' a big ole pecker wood. Don't you reckon, Uncle Paul?" No more arguments were necessary. What's really more important: sex with your pretty niece or a good night's sleep? He might regret this in the morning, but that was a common refrain in the late hours of the night when a lot of bad decisions are often made. Paul threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, the front of his PJ bottoms sticking out like there was a steel rod in them. Betty Jo smiled in appreciation. "Looks like Uncle Paul is happier than a tick on a fat dog." Paul smiled back, reached down, unbuttoned one of the buttons on his pajama pants, reached in, and pulled out his stiff dick. "Whoa!" Betty Jo exclaimed. "He's sure bona fide, Uncle Paul." She reached behind her neck to grasp hold of her ankles to pull them free. She stood up on the bed in front of her uncle, leaned forward, and reached back to pull her PJ bottoms off her bottom, keeping her pretty hazel eyes trained on his, a big grin on her face, her cute bangs laying across her forehead, her long pigtails hanging way down. Once clear of her bottom her PJs fell to her ankles in a soft green mound of bunnies, raccoons, squirrels and possums. She stood back up straight. She apparently wasn't wearing panties, and Paul was treated to a very wonderful sight: the darling pussy of Betty Jo with its very light sprinkle of strawberry red hair and that preciously delicate tiny crevice. "Do you like it, Uncle Paul? See; the carpet matches the drapes." It did indeed, and his dick twitched it's approval, and interest, in coupling with that delicious charm. "Why don't you step up to the edge of the bed, Betty Jo. Your Uncle Paul wants to give you another goodnight kiss." Betty Jo giggled as she stepped out of the PJ's and up to her uncle. It was rather obvious what he intended to do, given the direction of his eyes and the fact that her cunnie lips were at the same level as his facial lips. "Uncle Paul wants some strawberry country pie?" Paul smiled. He sure did. When she was in range he reached out and grasped the taut tight cheeks of Betty Jo's perky tush, itself a delight to hold, and pulled her the rest of the way so that his lips could embrace hers. "Uncle Paul," Betty Jo gasped as she felt her uncle's lips touch hers. It was such an intimate way to love somebody, and be loved, and she did always have a little crush on her uncle. It was a childhood wish come alive in the most wonderful way imaginable. Her Uncle Paul was smooching her cunnie! She reached down with her hands to grasp hold of his head and pull him in even more tightly against her lips and nub. Paul did enjoy making love to a girl this way. He would have been considerably more effective with Billie Jo if she hadn't required that he do it underwater. He could now do a much better job with her youngest sister and he did not waste the opportunity. He buried his lips in the girl's cunt, caressing and massaging her lips with his lips and tongue, being sure, of course, to frequently visit her little erect button, sucking it, licking it, and nibbling it. Betty Jo was breathing heavily as she wriggled and grinded her hips against her uncle's mouth. Her parents would most certainly be quite upset if they walked into Paul's bedroom right now, but Betty Jo didn't mind. She had always been the rebellious one, pursuing the interests of a typical boy rather than a typical girl. Well, at least she was being a girl right now. They would have to approve of that! Paul squeezed, pawed, and mauled the cheeks of Betty Jo's perky bottom as he chewed and munched on her cunnie. Being the athletic one Betty Jo probably had the tightest tush of all the sisters but the pleasure before him right now was even better. This home-made country pie was so much tastier than any store-bought frozen one he had ever bought. He gobbled and gorged like he was contesting at the county fair. "Oh Uncle Paul," Betty Jo eventually gasped, "yer gonna make me cum, that's fer shur." Paul briefly pulled away. "Just let it happen, sweetie," he whispered, "just let it happen," and then resumed his gobbling and guzzling of Betty Jo's tasty cunnie, the room becoming filled with the lewd noises of his slurping servicing of Betty Jo's slit, his face becoming sloppy wet. Betty Jo openly humped the mouth of her uncle with her cunt, fucking his face like it was a cock. She glanced over at the mirror on his dresser and saw her reflection. She looked so terribly lewd and obscene humping and grinding her cunt on her uncle's lips. But, it did not inhibit her. On the contrary, it put her over the edge and her legs suddenly felt weak and trembled. "Dadburn it, Uncle Paul," Betty Jo gasped as she felt her body engulfed by the waves of her climax. She fell back onto the bed, bringing Paul's face, lips, and tongue with her, wanting him to continue working her as she lay there quivering and twitching with her orgasm. Paul gladly followed her down onto the bed, not wanting to miss a lick as he witnessed the girl climaxing on his tongue. A man always feels good when he makes a lady cum with his mouth, and this was no lady, this was his niece, little Betty Jo, all quivery and shivery with her orgasmic paroxysms. His mouth filled with her juice as she made little squirts and spurts of her own, leaving a pretty big wet spot on his side of the bed. When she was done Betty Jo had to wait awhile. She covered her face with her hands, not out of any shame but simply to help her regain control and gather her senses. She soon though brought her hands away and smiled gratefully and appreciatively at her uncle. "I guess you city boys ain't clumsy at everythin'." Paul chuckled. He hadn't thought he was clumsy at anything, although he did suspect that a lot of the young men of Pixley, as well as Betty Jo, would probably best him in a number of physical sports. Betty Jo noticed the moisture on Paul's cheeks and chin, and giggled again. She then brought her legs back up, and again pulled her feet all the way back behind her head, locking her ankles behind her neck. It was the position that Paul had been waiting for, and he was richly rewarded for his patience. This position so thoroughly and completely opened the young lady's cunt. It was not a position for a modest girl, self-conscious about her body. Her thighs were splayed wide open, splitting open her cunt lips as well, providing a peek into her wet inner lips, and just below that, as laid out as brazenly as her cunt, her puckered ass hole. Bondage apparatus could not display Betty Jo's private parts more effectively. Her cunt and butt hole were both sticking right up in the air, offering themselves to him to do with what he wished. Betty Jo did feel a bit self-conscious about it, at least at first. She was reminded of the first time she visited a gynecologist. She had felt so bare, so exposed. Perhaps she felt a bit funny now because this was her Uncle Paul. Not too many nieces display themselves this way to their uncles. She would never have done such a thing when she was little, or at least it would not have had such an openly, brazenly lewd meaning. Paul's cock strained in the fully stretched confines of his skin. He so much wanted to fuck her this way. He had never done it like that before. Perhaps it was because none of his prior girlfriends were as flexible or limber as Betty Jo, as she had suggested, but none were also so uninhibited, so audacious. The Bodine girls were making quite an impression on him. "That's so fucking hot, Betty Jo," he quietly offered, his voice breathless with anticipation, desire, and lust. Betty Jo smiled in appreciation, her self-consciousness drifting away. Billie Jo was the one who always got the boy. Well, this time she got the boy and it wasn't even a boy. It was their Uncle Paul! She couldn't wait to brag about it to her sisters, although she wouldn't do that until after they got back to Pixley. She didn't want to give one of them the chance to show her up, if any one of them could in fact top this. She brought her fingers again to her cunnie, which was now glistening with moisture. She slid her fingers up and down the slit, gradually working them inside, smiling flirtatiously at her uncle all the while, and then eventually sliding one finger down inside her hole, closing her eyes and sighing with pleasure. She opened them a bit to softly ask, "Do you like my little pussy, Uncle Paul?" He didn't reply. He just stared. "It's awfully, awfully small. I hope you don't mind. I can just barely squeeze my finger down in there. Mmmmmm," she sighed as she squirmed her finger around and around inside. "It's so tight and wet and squishy." Her eyes were glazed with lust as she pulled her finger out and shifted it to her asshole. She circled the tip of her glistening wet finger around and around her wrinkly tight brown star and whispered, "You can fuck me there too, if you want, Uncle Paul," and to be sure he fully understood she stuck the finger down into her butt. "I just love a good cornholin'." She squealed as she plunged her finger deep down inside. She left it in there a bit, enjoying how intrusive it felt, how naughty it looked. "Do you think I'm being a bad girl, Uncle Paul?" He licked his lips. "You think maybe you oughta give yer little niece a spankin'?"" He would most certainly enjoy doing that. He smiled lecherously at his niece, giving his cock a squeeze. If only she knew how much he would enjoy that. "I just so much like stickin' things up my butt." Paul could see her breasts rising and falling beneath her PJ top, her eyes again now only half-opened with lust. Betty Jo flipped her finger out of her butt with a pop and then rocked back and forth, like a circus contortionist, smiling coquettishly. "You just take yer pick, Uncle Paul. I don't rightly mind in which stall you park your big, manly cock." Now, that was a difficult decision, assuming that he could only have one. He stood there contemplating the choice, absentmindedly stroking his cock, and then abruptly stopped when he realized that he was liable to shoot off onto those holes rather than within them. He did know that he would not last very long in either one, and so most likely it would be just one. Well, it didn't take too long to decide. He climbed onto the bed. Betty Jo giggled in anticipation, rocking her cunt. She used her fingers to spread herself open even further, if that was really possible, wondering which hole he would choose. Paul grabbed hold of one of the bed posts to brace himself. It actually wasn't that easy to fuck a girl in this position, aiming as he was straight down. He imagined that the actual fucking would be plenty darned easy though. "I reckon you'll have to cornhole me another time," Betty Jo said with a smile as she felt her uncle lodge his dick at the entrance to her cunt. Paul's cock never felt more like a weapon than it did now. It wasn't that he wanted to hurt anyone with it, particularly the petite Betty Jo, but the position just put him in such a powerful stance relative to her. He felt like he was going to truly impale her, driving his cock down into her body, deep down into her cunt like a stake. And so he did, in one swift hard thrust, or more like just falling down into her, as the weight of his body towering above her forced his dick downward into her tight, yet receptive, soft cunt. "Unggh," Betty Jo groaned at the sudden and swift intrusion into her little girlish hole. She was so fucking tight. It felt like her cunt was trying to choke the life out of his cock, although it would truly be such a wonderful way to go. Paul braced himself with his right hand now as well, gripping tightly the lower bed frame. He then pumped Betty Jo's cunt like he was drilling for oil, plunging his dick in and out. It wasn't that easy as her cunt was so snug, so constricted, seemingly impenetrable on the way down, and then clenching and clutching him on the way back up. It was a struggle that was scintillatingly stimulating every centimeter of the way, going in and coming out. Never had his cock ever felt so fucking good. He could fucking do this fucking all night long. Fuck his job, he thought. All he wanted to do was to fuck this girl. Betty Jo gasped, "Fuck me." She squealed, "Fuck yer little niece." She whimpered, "Fuck me, Uncle Paulie, fuck me so hard." And he did precisely that, humping and pumping Betty Jo's wet, tight cunt, filling the room with the obscene slushing noises of a fleshy wet hole being thoroughly sluiced. He had never fucked a girl in such an obscene manner. It was his niece, but it was not making love. It was fucking, bestial and animalistic, pure and simple, and his dick suddenly exploded in sweet satisfaction, blasting his cum deep down inside his niece's young cunt. "Fuck," he gasped as the sweet bliss swept through him. "Oh yes," Betty Jo whimpered, "fill me Uncle Paul, feel me with the Henderson seed." Paul fell onto and gushed into Betty Jo's precious cunt, his dick buried as far and deep into the girl as humanly possible. With his dick entirely enveloped and engulfed by Betty Jo's tender clenching and clutching fleshy folds he did indeed pass along the city slicker sperm, bringing the Henderson and Bodine families back together once again. Living With My Plug: First Week I slept long and sound that night, exhausted from the physical and emotional effort of the day. In the morning Lauren came to my room and got me up. She commanded me to show her that I was still wearing my panties in bed, and then remove them so she could inspect them. I was relieved to see the plug had prevented and escape from my bowels – the rear was pristine. But the crotch was saturated with vaginal secretions. "Ah good, I can see and feel that mom had kept her panties on all night. And her butt-plug kept all her nasty waste inside." Lauren read Dr. Baxter's instruction notes with me, which had been told to me verbally but which I had not properly taken in the day before. The cleansing ritual was to be repeated each day, and the procedure was given in detail. For the whole of that week Lauren took charge of the and sat on the toilet seat while I turned my rear toward her and leaned forward. "Hold your buttocks apart now, Mom. I'm going to ease your butt-plug out from you and I want you to try to close your sphincter as I take it out." She slowly extracted the plug from my anus, pausing and holding it with the widest part at my ring and keeping the muscle stretched to the maximum. I tried to tighten my buttocks and close my rear opening. I was able to prevent any messy and embarrassing premature emergence on the first days but with each day my attempts became feebler. I suppose the plug, holding me open all the time, was gradually stretching and weakening the tone of sphincter muscles. By the fourth day I was unable to prevent a medium-size log from slipping out and dropping into Lauren's white PVC apron. She took it upon herself to wash and rinse my plug. "Don't worry about that, Mom. Lauren doesn't mind if her apron gets dirty." Each morning she took a sample of my stool and put it in a container and then wiped me clean and gave me in a fresh, new pair of my panties, putting he worn ones in a ziplock poly bag and labelled with the date. This was also to be repeated every day so I would visit Dr. Baxter the next week with a set of worn panties and specimens to show her. The notes explained .... "You may suffer some vaginal irritation due to the presence of your plug, and which can lead to infection. The best prevention is a copious flow of your secretion – that has a natural cleansing effect. So I want to wear your panties continuously so I can inspect them next week and check your discharge is normal, without any discoloration or bad odour. In any case I am giving you these pessaries - insert one twice a day. They will promote your flow. I should warn you that you might feel heightened arousal, a desire to masturbate, so do not be concerned about that. In fact that is highly beneficial and you should not hesitate to rub yourself whenever you wish. Also insert one of the suppositories into your rectum after each voiding and before replugging. Both the pessaries and suppositories contain a mild antiseptic to combat any infection that might otherwise develop. They also have a lubricant base to help you feel more comfortable. " I certainly noticed the effect on my libido. The plug made me feel naughty, as though about to defecate and the naughtiness made me feel wanton, while the pessaries seemed to stimulate my arousal. Each morning my panties were drenched in pussy juice, even though I slept soundly. Lauren was quick to take advantage of my condition, and encouraged me to put on the most lewd displays, grinding my hips and running my hands all over my body while she watched. "Oh Mom, you're so wet, your cunt's pouring with juice ... let me see you do your little dance, the one you like to do alone in the bathroom to bring yourself of .... Come on, grind your hips a run your hands over your body, put on a good display the way dirty slutty girls do ... yes, like that, oh yes Mom that's great." She would then feel my wetness through the crotch of my cotton panties. With that she would pull them down and tease apart my labia, first the major and then the more delicate inner lips. By then my gash was awash and when she began to tweak my clitty I came uncontrollably. Then she would insert one of the pessaries "to make sure you don't dry up" she said. She took special delight inserting the both my pessary and suppository, taking her time to ensure each was well embedded before re-inserting the plug inside me. "Is the suppository secure and comfortable inside you?" she would ask, and then poked a latex clad finger in as far as it would go. "Yes, I think it is well inside you to do its job properly." I became very turned on by this attention. Lauren would dress in just her PVC apron or even more scantily, and took every opportunity to excite me with the sight of her slim figure and nicely trained limbs and abdominals. During each of these ministrations she would press against me and, as if carelessly, touch me intimately. Naturally Lauren also became very aroused and I could see the secretions dribble from her vagina. Sometimes she would ask me to check her own flow for quantity, clean consistency and odour. Lauren also saw to it that I was well-fed, providing me with plenty of healthy breakfasts and dinner containing loads of cereals, vegetables and fruit, in fact everything to add bulk and roughage. All the time I wore my plug, but during the last couple of days I noticed a soiling of my panties. There must have been seepage of liquid, perhaps from the suppositories, coloured brown with my stool. It embarrassed me that I would have to show them to the doctor – despite the intimate nature of last week's examination, I had never had to show my panties in such a state. By the time of my next appointment with Dr. Baxter I felt decidedly full, thanks to Lauren's meal preparation. I was afraid the pressure from my bowels would even expel the plug. I showered and shaved myself as close as I could. Lauren took extra pains to help me with my butt-plug and attach the harness, to avert any danger of an accident on the way. Lauren had put out the clothes she wanted me to wear, simple but smart and comfortable on such a warm summer day – a white cotton short-sleeved blouse and a pale blue pleated cotton skirt, white ankle length cotton socks, and pastel coloured street-cum-gym shoes. Underneath my skirt I one of the remaining pairs of white panties that matched a new white bra I had bought. I collected together the samples of my stool in their containers and the worn panties, which I carried in a small rucksac. I felt particularly vulnerable as I travelled on the bus, or perhaps it was the frisson of anxiety due to the impending appointment. But the familiarity of arriving at a place for the second time relaxed me somewhat. Dr Baxter greeted me as I entered, and was wearing a white lab coat as before. "So, Mrs. Jenkins, how have you been this last week? No problems with your butt-plug, or discomfort I hope." I described as best I could and Dr Baxter seemed quite unconcerned. She explained it is normal for anyone wearing a plug all the time to experience some stretching at first, and often it was necessary to move up to a larger size to maintain a secure fit. "My nurse is busy just no but she will be here a bit later. I should examine you anyway so please go into the treatment room as before and undress down to your panties, of course keep your plug in. I first want to inspect your panties including the ones you've been wearing this week and your stool samples. Then I'll take some routine measurements and then check you down there." I did as she said, but as I was removing my skirt there was a gurgle in my bowels and again some liquid oozed out and into my panties. This, and the fullness inside made me even more self-conscious as I stood to wait, clad in just my white cotton panties, which were completely sodden in the crotch. I was also much more aware of the presence of my plug than at any time during the last few days. When Dr. Baxter entered she immediately went to a cupboard and rummaged around for a few moments, then took out a white bib apron. I expected her to put it on over her lab coat but instead she removed it to reveal herself clad in only a very brief blue string panty. The material was a thin micro-fibre and they stretched tight over her small mound so as to accentuate rather than hide her contours. I could not refrain from staring. She looked at me, remarking, "These plastic lined aprons are a bit uncomfortable so if it's OK with you I'll leave it off for now." I looked at her tanned body, lean and toned, and I felt the sense of power it conferred on her; she was one who looked more dominant naked than dressed. I felt a wetness inside me as I considered being at Dr. Baxter's mercy. I was sure I would become completely pliable as soon as she began the exam. I saw to my surprise a dark patch at the crotch of her briefs at first thought she had leaked some pee. But she said, "I can see you looking between my legs, where I'm wet. It's OK, Ms. Jenkins, I don't mind." Her openness was a shock at first and I felt anxious about what she was going to do, but then I relaxed as I realised I need feel no embarrassment with her. The firsts test were routine – pulse, temperature, blood pressure – but the last was quite intimate as she took my arm and held it against her naked body. Not surprisingly the reading was elevated. She then asked for the stool samples and the panties I'd worn each day. She inspected them in turn, looking closely into the crotch. As she did she remarked with satisfaction on the copious flow of vaginal fluid. She asked me if I had any fear the plug would slip out or otherwise failed to keep secure my rectum. "No, it seems to hold all my solid waste, but there is some fluid that oozes out into my panties." (I was embarrassed to use vulgar words, like 'shit'.) "That's not a problem, KY jelly is the base compound of the suppositories and it will have accumulated some excess liquid. That's all, nothing to worry about except for staining your panties. If you do not feel any soreness you do not need to insert them, unless you wish to continue. Some people enjoy the insertion of a suppository as well as the feelings they induce. There's nothing wrong with that, nothing to feel ashamed about. Now I want to look at your panties, the ones you have on now. Take them off and hold them open so I can inspect." I removed the last emblem of my modesty and displayed the wet, soiled garment. "Yes, these are in a lovely state, Ms. Jenkins. Plenty of cunt juice, I'm glad to see that and I am sure you must have masturbated several times to make them like that. You mustn't feel you are doing anything wrong, I urge you do masturbate as often as you like. And quite a large brown patch. Yes, I'm certain the suppositories are responsible for that. You have to decide if you want to continue with them, at the cost of soiled panties, or to stop, with some risk of soreness. Now I'm going to proceed with the more intimate part of the exam. Please don't worry or feel embarrassed, however dirty and humiliating it might seem. I've performed thousands of anal examinations, both male and female, and many have been much dirtier than yours." She then put on the apron and I instructed me to lie on the table, on my elbows and knees, and to keep my legs apart. "Just relax in that position, Ms. Jenkins. No need to force anything. I'm going to undo your harness and slip the plug out of your anus. Don't worry about letting any wind, that's quite normal. Don't try to hold your stool, but don't forcibly expel it, just relax and allow everything to happen naturally. It is important I examine closely so I can judge how you have responded to wearing the plug inside your anus." She first tested the fit of the harness, feeling me all around my buttocks, pelvic area, my groin and shaven mound. Despite the strong, assertive demeanour, her hands were remarkably gentle, her touch so delicate and sensual to be almost a caress. I leaked more juice from my vagina and had to control myself to conceal my arousal "I know this is a very intimate matter, but please do not be embarrassed at anything. Again I tell you I am very experienced in these examinations and treatments and it doesn't bother me at all about the smell and mess." She slipped on a pair of surgical gloves, I heard the snap as the latex closed on her wrists. She then positioned the skirt of her apron so it was held by my knees and thus directly under my bum. She was very close behind me as she slowly unfastened the harness and drew the plug out in a smooth movement. I felt the usual stretching as the large knob of the plug passed through my sphincter but nothing like a week earlier. It seemed my ring was now accustomed to having to accommodate the object. I made no attempt to contract the muscle after the passage and almost immediate I felt a wet mass being extruded through my anal opening. I felt it emerge smoothly and easily, and must have been quite soft, as well as bulky. Then I felt a resistance. "I'm holding my hand against the emergence of your stool, and I want you to close your sphincter and pinch off the piece that has come out. Don't worry, I'm wearing latex gloves so just let go in my hand. Yes, that's perfect. I have a good piece and I need to squeeze it to test the consistency. ..... Ah yes, a nice one." I felt my stool being pressed against my buttocks and flatten into a patty, coating my cheeks with my soft brown excrement. It felt nasty and dirty, and yet I wanted her to coat my cheeks in that way. "I'm sorry if this feels a bit strange. You mustn't mind your bum cheeks getting filthy like this. You will be cleaned up in a while anyway." "It's OK, doctor, I don't mind you getting me dirty." Then there was a squishing sound and then looking back I saw her smear the brown paste on the white cotton of her apron. The smell reached my nostrils but was not as strong as I expected, I had become quite used to it and even relished the rich aroma. There was a wide brown band across her previously spotless apron. It excited me to see the white apron in that despoiled state. "Don't worry about my apron getting dirty. I keep a supply of these plastic backed one just for this purpose – I never know when I might have to do a mucky job like this. Now let some more out." I heard a soft plop as the second log dropped onto the Doctor's apron. She perhaps feared for the loss of modesty in performing such a normally private act, and kept reassuring me with her words. "Yes that's good, Ms. Jenkins, fine smooth stool, a nice even colour consistency. You're doing splendidly." The defecation proceeded for several seconds, then paused and resumed. Altogether I must have spent a couple of minutes as I released my stool. From time to time Dr. Baxter interrupted and pushed a latex clad finger into my anus and worked it around, and then would wipe it on her apron. By the time I had voided completely there was almost as much brown as white. To the unprepared nostrils the stench would have been sickening, but I had become so used to the aroma of my waste that I did not react at all, and it seemed that Dr. Baxter hardly noticed at all. Anyway the extractor fan would efficiently remove the gases from my body wastes. "Just stay like that a moment, Nurse Schloppfarth has just come in and will wipe you clean." A second pair of hands, larger and whose touch I remembered from last time gently parted buttocks, then placed one hand on my pussy and gently stroked. I felt a soft damp cloth applied to my soiled cleft and anal opening and she wiped me clean. "You may get off now, perhaps you like to see how much you have produced." I was amazed to see such a large volume of steaming brown excrement lying in a pile on the doctors's apron as well as smeared. I had not realised until then how the diet of natural fibre had made for so much bulk. The nurse, Ulricke was clad in a regular cotton uniform - blue tunic over which was a white starched cotton apron. As before, the tunic was cut shorter and closer than is normal in a normal clinic or hospital. Her manner was as I remembered and her open, clear expression. Today her hair was shorter and styled, and wore a moderate amount of makeup. She looked most attractive and I wondered what had motivated the change. She unfastened the apron of the doctor who stepped away, leaving the apron and mass of stool on it. Despite the operation of the extractor fan, the aroma was noticeable from the steaming, gleaming pile. Both doctor Baxter and the nurse looked at it, fascinated by its smell and appearance. "That is a lovely stool, don't you think nurse." "Certainly. Ms. Jenkins obviously follows and excellent diet. Do you want me to carry out the normal tests of consistency?" "Yes, place a small quantity in one of the S4 containers as usual. But I think provides an opportunity to introduce Nurse Watkins to an important aspect of her training. It takes quite a well-trained professional to deal with quantities of excrement without being repulsed. Ms. Jenkins' production will provide just the experience she needs. In the meantime, take Ms. Jenkins' butt-plug and cleanse it, and bring one of the new integral latex ones. Come back, and bring nurse Watkins, in about 20 minutes, both of you in your uniforms." As soon as the nurse had left Dr. Baxter led me to another exam table and ordered me to lie on my back, spread my legs so she could fasten into the stirrups. "I want to check on your libido, Ms. Jenkins, and that you can engage in sexual intercourse while wearing your plug. It means you'll be reaching orgasm with me, I hope you wont mind, it won't be too embarrassing." I told her I did not mind as it was an important part of the checkup, to make sure the butt-plug was not interfering with my sexual response. She spread me very wide and tilted the table back so to gain easy access again to my anus, quickly inserted another butt-plug. She seemed particularly satisfied with my situation. In a moment she had slipped off her briefs and had attached a large strap on dildo. It was at least twelve inches long and three across, and was covered with lumps and veins. "I want to check that you can experience normal sex intercourse while wearing your plug. You might need the security of a plugged asshole while enjoying the penetration of a natural male genital organ, or a female artificial one. But I want to make sure you are thoroughly lubricated so I am going to masturbate you to orgasm." I was excited the doctor was going to commit this perverted, lesbian. For the next minute she teased my labia and then, having felt the first new secretion, pressed my middle finger hard on my clitoris and then plunged two fingers of her other hand deep inside my slimy, wet love canal. "Oh, yes doctor, I'm cumming, I'm cumming! Fuck me doctor, fuck me in my sopping wet cunt. I need it. Fuck me now!!" Her hands were replaces by with the monster and I was filled. I screamed in a mixture of pain and and pleasure as it stretched and tore at my delicate membranes. She became crazed as she ploughed into me brutally and without mercy, slamming the dildo into my front opening while using her hands to work the butt-plug into my rear. Despite the pain I was involuntarily bucking in unison with the thrusts, and I came in a massive climax that went on and on until I could no longer catch my breath. I was covered in perspiration, and so was doctor Baxter. However, the doctor was not finished. She moved up and tore off her strap-on and then straddled my face, forcing her cunt onto me and leaking juice onto my face. Then she pushed with her hands onto my lower bellu, right over my bladder and immediately I experienced a new sensation. I lost control ] and urinated long and hard, my jet arcing and landing on the floor a few feet away. I felt wanton and full of wicked lust. Living With My Plug: First Week "Oh doctor, don't stop. I feel so dirty! It's so nasty what I've done but I love it." She wasted no time in releasing me and wiping us both dry. I was sitting across her at the desk and she was wearing her lab-coat, making notes, showing no sign of her recent activities when Ulricke returned with the new girl, nurse Watkins. "OK, we've checked your butt-plug and it's giving no discomfort, but perhaps is a size too small. Your stool is a good consistency, no sign of interference. Your vaginal secretion is healthy. You can accept a large male member while wearing a plug. Excellent, Ms. Jenkins. Ah, thank you nurse Schloppfarth, and Ms. Jenkins, I'd like to introduce nurse Watkins, who has been with us only this week. You like to be known as Tanya, I think." Tanya was younger than Ulricke, smaller and in fact quite petite, with a boyish figure so she could almost pass for a youth, were it not for the delicate features adorned with a trace of makeup. She had dark eyes and dark hair, straight and cut short though not quite military style. Like Ulricke she looked fresh, and even more so exuded innocence. She cannot have been out of her teens. Both nurses were wearing similar rubber uniforms, stretched tightly over their young bodies. Both were wearing latex gloves. "Nurse Watkins, Tanya, I don't believe you have performed any anal treatments, nor handled any stool. Is that right?" "No doctor, I've just been given the basic introductory training and only performed routine tests while at your clinic. I'm not sure how well I would cope with anything so, ..... so messy." "Well, this is a good opportunity for you to begin. Ms. Jenkins has been here for tests and has produced a large stool as a result of her bowel movement. I want you to go to the table and stand next to the specimen, lean over it and inhale. You must get used to the aroma. Nurse Schloppfarth, you know what is needed." Ulricke led the young nurse, who seemed uncertain about what was going to happen. Rather gingerly she stepped forward and sniffed at the pile, now no longer as warm or strongly smelling as before. She looked as though she was going to step back but Ulricke kept her in place. "Nurse Schloppfarth, get her apron dirty. Now, Tanya, you mustn't harbour any fear or revulsion." Ulricke picked up a handful of stool and slapped in onto Tanya's apron, right in the middle of the bib part. Then before she could react she used both hands to smear it all down the front of the young nurse's apron, leaving a wide brown band of soft excrement all the way down to the hem of her apron skirt. "Now Tanya, look at yourself in the mirror. You see how filthy your apron is. I want you to wear it like this for the rest of the morning to get used to it, and not to hide from any of our visiting patients. All of them experience bowel disorders and they will not think anything untoward that a nurse has her uniform soiled as a result of the treatment. In fact I want you to grab the rest of it and smear it down nurse Schloppfarth's apron." Tanya looked rather as if she was going to be sick and yet she cautiously pushed a finger into the pile and wiped the little piece onto Ulricke's apron. "You can do better than that, Tanya. Grab a big handful and smear all over." The girl looked completely shocked and I thought she would collapse in tears. She looked at her now soiled apron and then something snapped into place. She took a hefty chunk and slapped it onto Ulricke's white apron and viciously spread it all over. "That's Tanya, make a real mess of my apron. Even filthier than yours." Ulricke stood and let Tanya paint her apron completely, and then she slipped off her gloves and put both hands under her skirt. She parted her legs and began to rub herself, uttering lewd sounding words in her German tongue, "Aah, Ja, JA!! .... Aaahhh .... Fich mich! Fich mich hard!! fick mich schnell!! ....Schiess! ...... fick!! SCHIESS!! ...... FICK!!! ... JAAAAA ....." "I think that's enough for now. Nurse Schloppfarth, you'd better change your apron. In fact you'd better wear your rubber one and the rubber panties underneath for Mr. Carnforth's treatment. Take nurse Watkins to the ward H so she can observe. Don't be embarrassed about your appearance, Tanya. Mr. Carnforth is well accustomed to seeing his nurse getting her uniform soiled. I assure you, Nurse Schlopfarth won't be recognisable afterwards." Dr. Baxter showed me the larger plug. "I don't know if you absolutely need a larger size. I suggest you continue with the present one, but If you find some of your stool seeping out try the larger size. Alternatively you might prefer the all-in-one. It's a white latex panty, with a plug built in. It guarantees to keep everything contained and has a small opening around your pussy lips so you can masturbate and urinate. You can wear it for sex as well. A lady, if she doesn't need plugging, can to wear it the other way round, as dildo panty, and she can adjust it to defecate while having the device up her cunt. Anyway try it and tell me how you get on with it. And thank you Ms. Jenkins for your 'contribution'. I hope you did not find it too embarrassing." "Well, I feel rather ashamed to admit, doctor, that I enjoyed it. I hope you don't think that is very bad of me." "Not at all, it is entirely healthy to take pleasure in normal body functions. I'd like to see you again in another month. Would you like to see my nurses again?"