Weekend in Troon
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Mum announced that Aunt May had invited me to spend the last weekend with her down in Troon before returning to my final year. I was surprised, as I hadn't seen her and her husband Uncle Jim for about a year. Uncle Jim was a professional photographer, he'd learned his profession in the RAF and after the war had expanded into fashion and portrait photography. He had studios in both Troon and Ayr and employed folk to take photos of the tourists on the promenades by the shore. He also developed and printed film for the public. He didn't just regard it as a business, as he was a keen photographer, winning lots of prizes at exhibitions all over the country even in England! Aunt May was the main controller of the business side of things and saw to it that it was quite profitable. Although they'd been married about 20 years, they didn't have any children. Although Mum liked them both, Dad was rather cool about Jim, for reasons I couldn't fathom.
Jim had been very kind and extremely attentive to me last year. I blushed when I recalled the occasion. How could I have been so silly!
I said, "that'll be nice, Mum, I can take the train from Glasgow Central station on Friday afternoon and be there in time for tea."
"Yes, but take a couple of nice dresses, in case you go out somewhere." Dad was out of the room when she mentioned this. I liked Aunt May, she was a bit younger than Mum, very pretty with very dark black hair, bright blue eyes and an excellent figure and quite down to earth. She'd been to secretarial college, but after she married Jim had worked fulltime in the photography business. The fact that they were childless was a cause of some sadness and probably explained why, even although Dad was a little cool about the idea. Mum was happy to let me stay with them. As I was the only child in the family, she felt that I should get to know my close relations.
Jim was a good-looking man of in his mid-forties. Tall, quite athletically built and well dressed and groomed. I seemed to remember he wore nice smelling body lotion and was altogether, quite a dish, perhaps that's why Dad, viewed him with suspicion. Dad definitely wasn't a dish!
Aunt May met me at Troon station at 5.00pm and we walked to her house which was close to the golf course. The house was quite a decent size, built about forty years ago after the first world war. It had a large back garden without being overlooked by neighbours and where you could sunbathe on sunny days. She explained to me that Jim, was in a bit of rush as he was preparing for some contract. He'd agreed to do to photo shoot of some summer wear, for a local factory and had been let down at the last minute, by his regular model and was phoning around to see who else was available.
"Why don't you do it then Aunt May?"
"Oh, I'm much too old for that kind of thing!"
"Rubbish, you've an excellent figure and are very photogenic!"
"Jim prefers to use younger models, he says they've a fresher look, more appropriate for summer and beach wear, I agree! Actually, I was wondering whether you might like to try, you have filled up nicely, since we last saw you and even then, you were already quite a looker!"
"Are you saying I have big boobs Aunt May? When's the next train for Glasgow?" I shook my boobs and laughed.
"No, they've the right sort of summery look, I'm sure Jim will agree. And I'll insist that he pays you the going rate. Which by the way is very poor-many girls are happy to show themselves off for nothing, if they think they'll get into Vogue or Playboy!"
"I don't imagine Uncle Jim's photoshoot of summer frocks will qualify for next Spring's Vogue or Playboy!"
"You'd be surprised Louise! He's does quite well."
Uncle Jim had just returned home as we walked in. He grinned at me and gave me a friendly kiss and I was able to check out that he was still wearing his nice body lotion.
"Have you found a suitable model for your photoshoot tomorrow, Jim?"
"More of less May, but she can only work in the morning, so I won't be able to do all I wanted, which is a bit of a nuisance."
"Perhaps Louise could do a bit for you in the afternoon then?" Jim looked a little startled, turned and had another survey of my assets, this time giving me a more professional appraisal.
"You've filled out a little in the right places since last year, Louise, and if you do your hair, you could be quite good for what I have in mind?"
"What's the matter with my hair?"
"It's a little too curly, it can be straightened a little, if you go to the hairdresser in the morning."
"That'd be great!" says May, I'll ring up my hairdresser in the morning and explain what's needed. But how will Louise get to the factory?"
"Oh, that's not a problem, I'll do what's needed here in the afternoon."
"That's ok, then as I have to go to manage the studio in Ayr tomorrow remember and won't be finished till about 6.00. So, you'll have to set it up yourself."
"That's ok. How do you feel about doing a photoshoot Louise? I'll pay you the going rate, £2.00 an hour. I think that will be about £5.00 for the afternoon, and I'll also pay for your new hairdo."
"Ok, Uncle Jim, but you don't have to pay me, I'm your niece!"
"Of course I do, we want to keep things strictly professional, don't we?" He looks at me and smiles, a little enigmatically.
"You should get to bed soon Louise; we don't want dark circles under your eyes. Jim'll have to fix your make up tomorrow after your hairdo."
I was slightly taken aback, "Do you do that sort of thing? Uncle Jim?"
"Of course, it's part of the job to give the models the right look for the mood I want to project."
"I'll be in your hands, then," I smile brightly.
When I was in bed, I recalled, what had happened when I was last in Troon last year, I had been a little careless with my hygiene and hadn't brought a clean pair of knickers, so I decided to do without, till they dried. I didn't think anyone would notice that anything was amiss, as I was wearing a knee length skirt. As it was sunny, I joined Jim and May in the garden.
Aunt May was rocking on the swing lounger. I sat beside her, opposite Jim, who was slouched in a low deckchair opposite me, reading a magazine. The swing was quite high, so my feet only just grazed the ground, Aunt May, swung the couch by pushing her feet on the ground my legs weren't quite long enough to keep my feet firmly on the ground, so they lifted a bit now and again as we swung backwards and forwards. I noticed Jim was looking up surreptitiously from his magazine, now and again as the swing moved forward and realized, to my consternation, that he could see up my skirt. What a perv! What should I do? Bring my legs together and pull my skirt down, or give him a bit of thrill on a sleepy afternoon? I chose the latter course of action. I moved my thighs a little apart and hitched my skirt up above my knees and continued chatting to Aunt May about my plans for the coming year. I felt my pussy swell a bit and I'm sure my clit was shining like a beacon, as my pubic hair was a bit sparse then, still is, unlike Simone's! I noticed out of the corner of my eyes that Jim's crotch was growing visibly, and his stare becoming more fixed, although he still pretended to read his magazine, turning the pages every now and again.
After a few more minutes, I announced that I'd like a bit of a sleep, as the sun had made me feel sleepy. Aunt May said, what a good idea, she'd do the same. So, I went upstairs and lay on the bed and heard her go into her room shortly after. I must have fallen asleep, quite soundly, because I didn't hear Jim enter my room, but I was awoken by his hand lifting my skirt. What to do? Should I wake up and scream or pretend to be asleep? No contest! I really quite fancy Jim and wouldn't mind a bit of incestuous hanky-panky. What would he do? Not much, I imagined. He gently rubbed my quite swollen clit and then put a finger and then another into my vagina and massaged the upper wall bringing it beneath my clit, whilst pressing firmly on top with his thumb. Well, soon I unable to prevent myself from responding and started to thrust my hips rhythmically whilst he continued to squeeze. I came quite quickly he gave me a gentle kiss on both pairs of lips and tiptoed out of my room and went to relieve himself in the bathroom across the corridor.
At suppertime, we both behaved as if nothing untoward had occurred and I returned home the following day, without acknowledging by any sign, our complicity in any irregular behaviour. Why, create a fuss! Better to forget about it.
So here I was voluntarily agreeing to spending the afternoon alone with my pervy uncle, with me goading him on, like a Scottish siren. Was he responsible for my present lustful behaviour, or was it inborn? Am I wicked or just a wee bit zesty? Well tomorrow should be interesting! Still the idea of photographs was a little creepy, I should be very careful to make sure that I couldn't be identified, in case he used the pictures to blackmail me when I become rich and famous. Wait, the photos will only of me wearing fetching frocks, nothing to get too excited about!
Next morning Aunt May phoned the hairdresser in Portland St, which is just a few minutes' walk away, in the centre of Troon. She made an appointment for a defrizz and hair wash and clean up, also skin treatment to remove a few minor flaws in my otherwise flawless skin.
The hairdresser was very chatty, quite young, too and was wearing a wedding ring. She asked if I wanted anything else fixed whilst I was there.
"Like what?"
"Eyebrows, the odd blackhead here and there, all young lassies have a few and they look a bit unsightly in a photograph, although of course these can be removed, by a skilful photographer."
"You seem to know quite a lot about photography," I said.
