Beth Visits her Uncle for the Summer
- 4 years ago
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Summer 5 free porn video
Thanks to the whiskey and the pot I slept like a baby, once I finally crawled into bed. For once I wasn’t up before Summer. When I finally crawled out of bed and wandered out of my bedroom she was already up. Not only that, she was making breakfast. I smelled bacon. It smelled damn good, though anything would have smelled good at that point. Also, there was coffee, which I badly needed, being slightly hungover. Not hungover enough not to notice how good she looked in one of my plaid shirts – she must have borrowed it while I was still out cold - and little, if anything, more. I couldn’t tell, though it was short enough on her that if she bent over just a little I’d probably find out. Instant morning wood.
“Good morning,” she greeted me with a cheerful grin. She didn’t look any worse for wear. Her hair was damp, so I guessed she’d showered. Probably wanted to wash my cum off her… Fuck. That really happened, didn’t it. And yet, Summer didn’t seem to be acting weird or bothered. If she had any regrets, they weren’t obvious.
“Morning,” I mumbled, pouring myself a cup, trying not to ogle my insanely pretty, sexy niece and not worry too much about last night.
I sat, she served. I ate, she ate. It was good, though it’s hard to mess up eggs and toast and impossible to mess up bacon.
“Sleep well?” I asked, mostly because I didn’t want to get lost in my thoughts right now.
“I did. You?”
“Yeah. This is nice.” I motioned at the plate. I should mention she’d put out juice too.
“Figured it was my turn.”
We both cleaned up. It felt strangely domestic, her washing, me wiping and putting away the dishes. We didn’t talk much, but she seemed in a good mood. She had a nice smile that sort of lit up the room. I had a moment where I wanted to kiss her. Okay, more than just a moment, but… that would be weird, no matter how she reacted, either kissing me back or pushing me away, so I didn’t. Thing was, I couldn’t get it out of my head that she was my niece. It didn’t mean I was attracted to her any less. She was younger than me, too. About twenty years younger. That might have been part of it, too. I took a deep breath and continued putting away the silverware while wondering where this was all going to lead. God, if her mother ever found out I’d be roadkill…
“What are we doing today?” she asked once we were done.
“Taking suggestions.”
“I want to write. Later, though. Figured you’d want to paint?”
“Probably.”
“Road trip?” she suggested with a laugh.
“What do you want to do?”
“Laundry. And… I was thinking it would be fun to go shopping.”
“I could use some more groceries,” I admitted.
“That too. I meant for me, though. Clothes.”
I must have made a face. She giggled and made one back.
“It’ll be fun. I promise.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” I replied, half serious.
She just laughed and left me standing there after helping herself to the tin the cupboard and heading for the back porch.
Fuck.
I showered, taking my time, then dressed. The usual. Jeans and… she’d left the shirt she was wearing during breakfast on my bed. I wondered if she’d put something else on or was wandering around the house naked? I wouldn’t be surprised if she was. I put it on. It smelled vaguely of pot smoke and… pussy. Her pussy. I could only chuckle at that, picturing her out back fingering herself while smoking a bowl, coming on one of my chairs and using my shirt to clean herself up. So much for keeping my dirty thoughts in check.
She’d dressed. Cute loose green shorts. A sleeveless yellow blouse and matching hairband. Sneakers. Typical college-age girl-next-door look. She had on a pair of sunglasses that hid her eyes from me. I smiled at that, wondering exactly how stoned she was.
“You look nice.”
“So do you,” she replied. “Nice shirt.”
I rolled my eyes at her and she burst into giggles.
“Go get your laundry. We’ll drop it off first. Might as well do mine, too.”
A washer and dryer were pretty standard in the states, but I’d never bothered here. It was just as easy to drop it off at the laundromat and then pick it up later, all neatly hung and folded. Afterwards, I took her to the shopping district and dropped her off so she could shop to her heart’s content while I picked up groceries. She seemed a little disappointed by that, but then she got a mischievous look on her face, which should have worried me.
“I’ll be a while. How about I call when I’m done.”
“Fine with me. I can just take everything back to the house and put it away. Maybe we can have lunch at a café. My treat.”
I thought for a brief moment that she might lean over and give me a kiss. Maybe just a peck on the cheek, but the moment passed and I wrote it off as wishful thinking as I watched her slip out of the truck and make her way down the sidewalk, almost mesmerized by the way her ass and legs looked in those short green shorts.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath as I drove off, trying to get my thought off of my niece. And out of the gutter.
I like grocery shopping. It’s kind of mindless, letting me think about other things while doing something productive. It also gave me a chance to socialize a bit. I’d been shopping at the same market for as long as I’d been living here and it was like almost like visiting friends. Today was no different. I took my time, talked about the weather, local gossip, got to hear about Lisette’s newborn daughter, and a myriad of other small and yet seemingly important events. Afterwards I drove home and put everything away and then, not sure how long I’d have, I got out my laptop, the one I’d loaded all of the shots I’d taken of Summer on, and started going through them, one by one. Again.
Yes, it was a little obsessive, but… there was just something about the photos that kept drawing me to them, more than how pretty she was, how… naked she was, how sexually charged it was to see her playing with herself. There was also an intimacy to them, as well as an innocence. They weren’t lurid or smutty or any of that. There was a beauty to them that only she could have brought to them, one that I wanted desperately to capture on canvas. She was right about one thing. I needed time to paint while she wrote. We’d have lunch and then I’d bring her back and I’d lost myself for the rest of the day, trying to portray her elusive spirit. When she finally called, I was still going through them, having lost all track of time.
I met her right where I’d left her, more or less, weighted down with bags. Maybe not weighted, but damn. She’d done some serious shopping. I suddenly wondered what that meant for the long term. After all, she’d been travelling with just her small suitcase and I wasn’t sure how she was going to fit… whatever, into that…
“Find some good sales?” I quipped.
“I even bought something for you,” she said, smiling as she put her bags behind her seat and climbed in.
“Oh? What?”
“Remember you used to wear that ugly driving cap every time you visited?”
“The red and white striped one? Yeah. Your grandfather hated it. That’s probably why I wore- no, you didn’t.”
“I did.” She couldn’t stop giggling after that and I couldn’t help laughing along with her.
“I’ll show off the rest of it later. I’m starving.”
I ended up taking her to a bistro that had pretty decent food, mostly because you could eat outside in a small garden with tables shaded by colorful umbrellas. We ate amidst small talk – mostly me answering questions about what it was like to live here (I loved living her. It was very much home, now.), what I liked about it (the food, the pace of life, the countryside, how inspired it made me feel), what I missed about Los Angeles (very little to be honest). That kind of stuff. We talked about music and she laughed at how out of touch I was with anything recorded after 1999 while I teased her about knowing nothing about anything recorded before that.
“I like the French stuff you played the other day. Wouldn’t mind listening to more.”
“Even though it has an accordion?”
“It was… charming and old fashioned. Like you,” she teased.
I just laughed. “At least I’m charming.”
Afterwards we picked up our laundry and headed back to my place where we went our own separate ways, so to speak- Summer disappearing into her room to write and me, into my studio to paint. To paint her, more specifically, neither of us emerging until close to dinner time.
“I have a craving for mac and cheese,” she admitted when I asked if she had any requests.
“You came all the way to France and that’s what you want? You want me to slice a hot dog and put it in too?”
“Would you?” she said, laughing.
“Absolutely not.”
She kept me company while I cooked, querying me about progress with the painting and just painting in general…
“What do you like best about it?”
I was thoughtful for a few moments before answering.
“That I’m creating something uniquely me, sharing something beautiful, but sharing it as I see it. Photos show you, more or less, exactly what is there before you. Paintings, though, and I’m not saying a good photographer can’t do this, but paintings are as much a reflection of the painter as they are the subject. It’s like sharing part of me with someone else. It’s intimate, in a way.”
“I feel like that too. I mean, when I write. I’m sharing a little part of myself. Sometimes it’s a part I don’t even know about until I find the words for it. It’s a way of sharing part of me without giving it away. Without losing it. Does that make sense?”
“It does to me.”
And then, because I’d been thinking about it all morning, I kissed her. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, although there was passion in it. It wasn’t a kiss between friends either. I felt her lips open slightly as she let out a soft, surprised sound, her eyes widening slightly in tandem. She didn’t pull away suddenly, which was a good sign, although she was passive, not kissing me back, which was, possibly not a good sign.
I didn’t kiss her long. Long enough, though. Afterward she blushed, her eyes hidden behind her light lashes, and silent. I was silent too, cursing myself inwardly, wishing I could take it back. It was too late for that, so I simply shrugged, smiling awkwardly.
“Sorry. I just wanted to kiss you. That’s all.”
“Okay,” was all she said. At first. And then, “I’ll be right back. Not right back. Just…”
And then she was gone, back to her room, closing the door behind her. At least she hadn’t fled or slammed the door or burst into tears or anything.
It was funny. I’d seen her naked. Watched her masturbate. Orgasm. I’d even come on her. This was just a kiss, and yet, it was more than that. Problem was, what did it mean to Summer? Fuck. I guess I’d find out…
Eventually, she came out, laughing when she saw me.
“You look like a kid who got caught doing something wrong.”
“I feel like one too,” I told her, sheepishly from my seat on the couch.
She’d changed into a pair of jeans that looked painted on and a pink hoody zipped up in the front. She was carrying one of her shopping bags, which she set on the floor, pulling a hat, the promised red and white one, from it and tossing it to me.
“You’re going to be my chauffeur. Bring your camera.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I joked, relieved when she smiled in return.
“Where are we doing?”
“The pond you showed me the first day.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t about to argue with her. Or ask questions, despite the curiosity that was eating away at me.
She had me put on some music. Yann Tiersen specifically. I drove, taking it easy, the sky showing the first signs of twilight.
I pulled the truck off the road and stopped, turning the key in the ignition. Summer was quiet. It was a comfortable quiet, though, something I was beginning to associate with her. She looked thoughtful, her lips pursing as she stared out the windshield in the direction of the pond, that faraway look in her eyes.
“Go take a walk. That way.” She pointed away from the pond. “Take your camera. Come find me in about fifteen minutes.
I didn’t ask any questions. Obviously, I was brimming with them, but I didn’t. Instead, I did exactly as she said, my ridiculous driver’s cap still on my head, glancing at my watch before I set out so I’d know when to return…
Fifteen minutes is a long time to think about things. At least it seemed like it and I had a lot to think about. Again. I’d kissed her. She’d seemed surprised but then it was as if nothing had happened. It was akin to being in limbo, honestly, or maybe purgatory. I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. It wasn’t nearly that bad. Besides, I’d never believed in all that Catholic mysticism. Still…
Eventually, I wandered back, having given her an extra couple of minutes, not wanting to seem anxious, wanting to play it cool. Not that I was. I was nervous and anxious and curious all at once. By the time I reached the truck, it was dusk. While it wasn’t dark, it would be soon, and everything was a bit dim. Personally, I preferred the brightness of daylight. Most of my best work I did in the afternoon. That said, there was a charm to the twilight hours and there was always the promise of stars in a clear black sky…
At first, I thought I’d seen an apparition. A ghost. It was neither. Just Summer. Standing on the bank of the pond, facing away from me. She’d shed her jeans and her blouse replacing them with something sheer and light blue and revealing. A nightgown. It probably had some fancier name that only women knew. It was a nightgown. It was very short. Barely covering her ass. There was a breeze blowing from the west teasing her hair and causing her gown to shimmer and swirl slightly. She really would have made a good spirit.
Not saying a word I raised my camera, adjusted the settings for low light and began to shoot as unobtrusively as possible, not knowing if she’d sensed me, not wanting to break the spell either way.
Eventually she turned, facing towards me, beckoning me with her fingers. She was smiling. I think. It was hard to tell. The first time I’d seen her I’d thought she was pretty. Not drop dead gorgeous, but pretty. I was wrong. She was stunningly beautiful. Breathtakingly so.
I walked towards her, entranced, not quite sure what was going on, but eager to find out. And yes, I was hard. Uncomfortably hard. It would have been impossible for her not to notice. Of course, it was impossible for me to think of anything else but fucking her. I’d been wanting to since the day she’d shown up at my door, after all.
“Take off your shoes.”
I didn’t ask why. I just did it, removing shoes and socks and setting them side by side on the ground along with my camera. Maybe I’d need it later. Maybe not. For now, it was an unnecessary distraction.
“Now everything else.”
I undressed, taking my time. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. There was no point in rushing it.
"Sit,” she continued, turning towards the water and settling down on the bank, her bare ass settling on the soft grass. I sat. Next to her. Almost touching, taking a deep breath as she shifted slightly over until she was pressed against me. Thigh against thigh, hip against hip, shoulder against shoulder, both our feet dangling into the tranquil water so that it rose nearly up to my knees, not that I cared. The water still pleasantly warm from the summer sun.
And then we just sat. Not speaking, watching the water lilies floating on the surface as the shroud of night descended and the stars started making an appearance above us. At some point she took my hand in hers, fingers between mine, squeezing gently for a brief moment as she pulled my hand onto her bare thigh, letting it rest there, her hand over mine. I considered kissing her again. Okay, I desperately wanted to push her down on her back and ravish her. I did neither. After a while, she spread her thighs slightly, placing her ankle over mine. She wasn’t wearing anything under her gown, so sheer that she might as well be naked. Like me.
My erect cock was obvious, standing straight up like a flagpole. With anyone else I might have felt self-conscious. With her, though? Not in the least.
“You can see the stars so much better here. So many of them. Back in LA you really couldn’t see much.”
“I remember,” I saidTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
Maris
- 29.08.2022
- 30
- 0
- Category:
- Incest
