Cousins Ch 02 1

Uncle Pete's face was buried in Bonnie's tremendous cleavage as she tented his cock, seated and wiggling in his lap. They were engaged in post-breakfast friskiness on the living room couch. The man's sucking of her nipples added to the tingling sensations radiating to her juicy labia, lusciously engaged in rubbing the underside of his erection. Her panties were gone but her cropped top t-shirt was drawn up to her neck, affording the quick and easy access that impatient Uncle Pete wanted this morning.

She cuddled her uncle's head to her chest as she looked out through the living room window across the street at Mr. Smith's house. The old widower exited his front door and hobbled to the curb to retrieve his morning newspaper. That was quaintly old-fashioned; who read a newspaper anymore when so much more was available online? He saw her rocking head and shoulders, visible through her bay window and raised a hand in greeting, not seeing the naked lower half just below the window sill. She waved back and he returned to his home and closed the front door.

Uncle Pete grasped her ass and raised her up so his cock could make its entry into her juicy pussy. She cooperated and slid down the long penile muscle. Her ass rose and fell, bouncing her boobs in his face as she stroked his thick member. Uncle Pete was quick this morning and soon spewed his lust inside her.

As they slouched in a post-coital swoon, she asked about their neighbor.

"Oh, Smith's wife passed away a few years back and he has been a bit of a hermit ever since. Seems okay but he stays mostly to himself. Everyone leaves him alone."

Uncle Pete was finally ready to get on with his morning. He slapped her ass cheek and told her to get up. His flaccid cock exited its last bit of juicy cuddliness, and she slid off his lap to stand. Looking over his shoulder to where she had been watching outside, he felt her curiosity and suggested Bonnie go over and do a 'welfare check' on the old dude.

Bonnie pulled her top down over her tits and retrieved her panties and booty shorts. A pair of low sandals completed her outfit. It was a warm spring morning, so she decided to go as is. She walked across the suburban street and rang the doorbell. A voice responded through the tiny speaker.

"Yeah, what do you want?"

"Good morning, sir. I'm Bonnie from across the street, the one you waved to this morning. Just wanted to say hello and see how you're doing. Can I come in?"

There was a long silent pause and then a metallic click of the door lock. Bonnie tried the door and it opened into the foyer. She stepped across the threshold and closed it behind her.

Looking around the entry, she could see the house was neat and clean. Whatever was keeping Mr. Smith away from others had not diminished his sense of order. She heard a call from further rooms.

"Come on through; I'm on the back patio."

She made her way to the rear sliding doors, slid back the screen panel and exited onto a swimming pool deck. Mr. Smith was on an aluminum and plastic web lounge, his unfolded newspaper in his lap. Bonnie turned his way, tucked her hair behind an ear, and stepped closer, extending her hand.

"Hi. I'm Bonnie. You must be Mr. Smith."

The old man gazed at her from bottom to top. The video doorbell had only shown a contorted view of her face and neck on his cellphone. He now saw that the rest of her body was a marvel of youthful physique. Her bare legs were long and trim. The booty shorts hugged her ass and formed her groin into a faint camel toe. The crop top was loose and her motion along with the slight breeze fluttered the hem, drawing his eyes to her round under-boob display and the pokies evident through the thin cotton cloth.

It had been a while since he had been up close and personal with such a lively beauty and his icy demeanor thawed. He had always been drawn to gracious young ladies and nubile Bonnie seemed to be such a one. He smiled and extended his hand.

"Mr. Smith sounds too formal; my friends call me Smitty."

They clasped hands and Smitty felt the warmth of her feminine touch, a sensation that had been absent from his life these recent past years.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Just being neighborly, Smitty. Wanted to be sure you were okay. We don't see you out much."

"Oh, I'm fine. Just not much for socializing after my wife died. Mabel was the gadfly and I just tagged along."

Bonnie stood back and looked around. The pool looked inviting.

"That's a nice pool. We don't have one at our house. Mind if I try it out."

"Sure. Go get your bathing suit and come back."

"Oh, no bother. I can try it now."

Bonnie kicked off her sandals and clutched the hem of her t-shirt in both hands. She whipped it up and off, exposing her large perfect breasts. Smitty's eyes went wide in shock. She bent over towards him, dangling the swaying bulbs as she skimmed down her booty shorts. Tossing the duds aside, she pivoted and dove into the sun-warmed water.

She swam little laps, back and forth, in front of a most attentive Smitty. Overhand strokes had her wet round ass cheeks cresting the shallow ripples. A return backstroke wavered her chest mounds back and forth to his vision. Side strokes gave a view of her ass or boobs, whichever side she happened to use. After a dozen laps, she stood and faced her host.

"Come on in. The water's fine."

Smitty shook his head, declining her saucy welcome. Bonnie noticed the obvious bulge in his shorts. Maybe the old geezer wasn't so old after all. She decided to find out and that way thank him for the use of the pool. She climbed out and wetly trotted to him, kneeling at his side.

Her hand lightly rubbed his crotch and discovered a nice volume of stiff flesh hidden in his shorts. She would have asked or at least said something, but he hadn't recoiled or rejected her touch. Both hands worked his zipper down and her fingers burrowed in for the prize.

Smitty lay there, seemingly stunned by the sudden turn of events. He didn't resist as she extracted his old cock. Her hands were warm and her fingers dexterous as she slid the pads along and around his tumescence.

She looked into his face as she asked his permission.

"Mind if I play with it? It's very nice."

Smitty was too worked up to speak but managed to nod his head. He watched intently as her fingers held his genital flesh and her head lowered closer. Her pursed lips kissed the tip, then here and there along the shaft. She perceived a growing stiffness and decided to taste it completely.

Her puckered lips covered the tip and then suctioned harder, drawing him inside her mouth. Her ears heard his groan of delight as she took him all in. His hips shifted on the chair as he elevated his groin to assist her oral exercise.

Bonnie noted his appreciation of her reward for sharing his pool. It was the least she could do for the friendly old man. Her tongue got more into the routine and that evoked more moans and groans from her host. His breathing deepened and she was careful to monitor his respiration rate.

But all was well as she felt the mouthful of meat shudder. He called out a quiet cry of delight and a trickle of cum poured out on her tongue. She held him in, feeling the shaft soften and go limp. A few hard sucks gained more ejaculate and she slid her lips off and noisily swallowed the small manly offering.

She looked at his flushed face looking back at hers.

"Are you okay? Did I overdo it?"

Smitty croaked out a reply.

"No... no, my dear. That was wonderful and so unexpected."

Smitty told her she was welcome anytime to use the pool. He feebly escorted her to the front door, stopping occasionally as she asked about pictures on the side tables and mantel. Smitty pointed out photos of his deceased wife. Bonnie especially favored their wedding photo. Mabel had been a beautiful bride in her lacy white gown, her hair in neck-length rolls.

Uncle Pete inquired about Smitty and Bonnie said he was doing fine. Still very strong and healthy in her enlightened opinion.

Over the next week, Bonnie wandered across the street several times to use her old neighbor's pool, swimming nude under his watchful eye. It amused her to think of him as her lifeguard even though she doubted his physical strength to actually rescue her from an accidental drowning. But she always thanked him properly at the end of her exercise laps with coital laps that led to blowjob ejaculations draining down her throat.

Other times, Bonnie mused on the way Smitty was still smitten with his lovely passed wife. It was unfortunate that his life had turned into a lonely hermitage. Fortunately, the old guy now had the benefit of a virile young neighbor to keep him somewhat in a state of vim and vigor.

And she was not deprived of her own sexual pleasure. Uncle Pete rarely passed up a chance to quench his bright burning libido fires. He used her body incessantly, dousing his smoldering lust in her cunt or mouth. She was delighted with the masculine attention and, more often than not, joined him in orgasmic finales. But her concern for Smitty continued and she percolated a plan for his deeper participation in more than passive blowjobs.

She found the perfect ploy while strolling downtown past a second-hand store. She hurried home, excited about her purchase. That evening, she spent excess time preparing her presentation: bright red lipstick, her red hair in old-fashioned rolls, ivory lingerie, and low heels. And the coup de grace was the treasure she had found at the second-hand store.

Smitty heard his doorbell ring and answered the call, but there was no video display. Maybe the thing was on the fritz but it was Bonnie's voice seeking entry. He remotely unlocked the door and let her know he was in the living room. Footsteps approached and he turned to watch her entrance. Upon seeing her, his cock jumped a twitch on its own accord.

It may have been Bonnie but the vision was a nostalgic dream from his past. There stood the spitting image of his young wife, Mabel, from many years ago.

Bonnie was dressed in a version of Smitty's bride in her wedding dress. She had matched as close as possible the wedding photo on his mantel. She copped a shy smile, a pantomime of an innocent virgin, ready to consummate her vows with the first marital copulation.

Smitty rose from his chair, in a daydream stupor, feeling the same uneasy tension that he had felt for his first exploration and sexual union those decades ago. Without words, he took her hand and she let him lead her to his bedroom, ready to help him rediscover the intimate joy of his first time with the true love of his life.

Bonnie stood passive as Smitty gently hugged her buxom figure and partook in a tender kiss. She let him lead the action in this dream; let him play out the scene as he worked the zipper of her wedding dress and let it fall from her body. He was accustomed to the old-fashioned snaps and clips of the traditional lingerie and soon those intimates joined the dress on the floor.

Now naked Bonnie turned her attention to her pseudo-husband, removing his clothes to get him equally nude.

She stood tall before him and pantomimed a shy virgin, intertwining her fingers in a handclasp over her pussy; twisting her shoulders a bit but her head further, pretending to be embarrassed by their dual nudity. But Smitty was too keyed up to wait much longer and took her hand, leading her to the marital bed where they would consummate their family union.

Bonnie lay back, her knees tilted apart. He climbed in and kneeled up, shuffling forward, spreading her knees wider as he pressed closer. He leaned over, his cock touching her groin as he posed above her. His hands went beneath her shoulders and his face found hers. It was a tender kiss, continuing into a livelier smooch.

She wrapped his shoulders and drew him down, squashing his chest hard against her breasts. Her next move rolled the soft mammaries between them and she felt his penile tip press tighter to her labia lips.

A wiggle of her hips caught his attention. He was ready and pushed as she deftly tilted her pussy to aid the angle and reduce the distance. He pushed some more and gained entry. A few short cycles got him deeper and deeper. A last, he was all in and she cooed in his ear as his pubis flexed into hers.

It was a long series of gentle strokes. The old man was fired up but he was still an old man. She wiggled, squeezed, and humped, doing as much as possible to cultivate his fantasy. And it worked. He groaned and she felt the weak flow of warm sperm deep inside.

He collapsed atop her in a post-orgasmic stupor. Her hands rubbed his back, her thighs massaged his hips and she torqued her neck to kiss his cheeks, neck, and ears.

She heard his gentle weeping and helped him roll aside, cuddling him in spoon, covering them with the sheet, and purring softly to lullaby him to sleep. In the morning, she left him to his slumbers and enjoyed a skinny dip in the cool swimming pool. Entering the house again, she found him in the kitchen, making coffee and a frittata. After breakfast and her visible assurance of his welfare, she crossed the street and returned to her Uncle Pete's abode. He was also waiting in the kitchen for her.

"Where have you been?"

"I stayed with Smitty last night. He seemed lonely and I helped him relive some sweet memories."

"Okay, but do you have a memory of this?"

He pulled aside his robe and his stiff erection bobbed at his groin. Bonnie understood the implication and knelt on the kitchen floor. She sucked off her uncle and was fed a second breakfast, this one of manly cream.

Bonnie made a habit for the rest of the summer to visit her old neighbor for a few swims and blowjobs during the week. And every Thursday, she spent the night with Smitty, keeping his home fires burning and giving him a renewed lust for life.