Giving In To Temptation Ch 04

I slept hard. Overwhelming response to an orgasm like the one I'd just had, for starters, and the release of life's stresses in general did it, I suppose. Woke up around 5 in the afternoon. No sight nor sound of my 'niece.' Full of energy, and with some time to kill, I decided to go for a run. Pulled on my running shorts, found my shoes, decided against a shirt, and headed out. The familiarity of the old route I took several years ago was like greeting an old friend... out of the neighborhood, south on Crandon, a shortened loop through the state park then back home. Nice 5 mile loop, at a relaxed pace. I always enjoyed a run after a swim. It stretched out the swimming muscles and balanced legs by working the others. My thoughts drifted back in time. Candy used to follow along on her bicycle, always curious about what she saw along the way, always talkative, always trying to goad me into a faster pace. Some things never change, I suppose.

I also thought about the days's events. Running always provided me with the ability to focus and find clarity on problems that needed thoughtful consideration. So - what the HELL was I thinking?? Yes, we were uncle/niece only by marriage... but still - in retrospect it was idiotic of me to jeopardize family relationships because of a moment of weakness. But that body... those tits... her mouth... Fuck... I was pathetic... I was actually getting hard again. Middle-aged pervert. I'd simply sort it out with her at dinner, put the days' events in our past, and move on. I picked up the pace for the last mile, stopping just short of the driveway, and walked into the house. Sweat pouring off my body, shorts soaked, dripping a trail of sweat as I entered the foyer.

"Uncle Steve!! Yaaaay!! you're back! I thought you'd deserted me (laughing)..." She jumped up and approached me, giving me a big hug, despite my condition. "Oh - my... you're a mess - you - you went for a RUN? After that workout?? Uncle Steve - jeez... save some for me!"

She saw the look I gave her... something between wanton lust and 'deer-in-the-headlights, and giggled. "I mean, for dinner silly - you're taking me out, remember?"

Before I could reply, another voice. Lilting British accent, female. Sort of accent one might expect of a graduate of Haberdasher's. I wasn't far off.

"Ahem. Candy dear, aren't you going to introduce me?"

"Omygosh... so sorry Emily... please meet my Uncle Steve." Holly gets up from the couch, turns toward me, leans in, takes my hands, and kisses me on the cheek. Fuck. Utterly stunning. Her hair is jet black, soft, and short. Above the ear, and hair pulled forward into bangs off the side. Back of it is very short... the kind of short that you can ruffle it with your fingers and it sends tingles straight down your back. Emily is a bit taller, a bit thinner. Fashion model's build, but with bigger boobs. They're dressed the same. Very short jean skirts, tight white tops, cropped at the waist. Pumps with wedge heels, maybe 3" high. Emily's top is sleeveless, with four buttons from collar to mid-breast, three of which are undone. Her legs are thin, but long and shapely. Her thighs might be her best feature... you know the kind of girl who's legs are long enough that, when they wear a short skirt, you just feel like she's more naked than she really is? Those kind of legs. If she's wearing a bra, it's not apparent. Natural boobs, held tight against her rib cage by the shirt. Alabaster skin, deep cleavage. Hint of a tattoo snaking round the inside of her left breast. The tattoo disappears under its weight.

She's still holding my hands, smiling. Great mouth. A bit too big for her face, kinda like Julia Roberts. She speaks first.

"So Uncle Steve - lovely to meet you...Candy has told me sooo much about you... I cannot wait to hear more." Squeezed my hands, looks down to my shorts and back into my eyes.

"Emily - it's nice to meet you as well but, tell me - did you and Candy call ahead to decide on outfits today?" They both laughed, thank god. "Also, please forgive me," I rasped, "but I"m parched... let me get some water." As I walked away, I pick up conspiring whispers and giggles louder than intended. I collect my water and a towel with which to wipe down, and return to the two young women. "I'm sorry... did I miss out on a laugh?" They look at each other, somewhat sheepishly. Shit - tried to keep it light, and I'm blowing it. I look back behind me, and see the trail of sweat. "Ahhh - I get it, it's the total mess I'm making of this fine home, right?" The burst out laughing.

"Nooo, Uncle Steve," replies Candy - "not that, although you do make a point." More laughter. She steps closer to me: "truth be told, I kinda predicted your behavior behavior before you walked in, and you're ... well - predictable." She looks a my shorts. I look over to Emily, and she's looking at them too. And goddamit, my cock throbs just a little. The feeling one gets at the first pulse of a hardon. And me in sweat-soaked nylon running shorts. I try to ignore the feeling, but dicks can be a funny thing. Hint of a tease, and they can get a mind of their own. Put them in a strange environment - who gets hard in sweaty running shorts, anyway? - and the new sensation just seems to entice the blood flow.

I blushed just a little, and joined in on the laugh. "Well Candy, I guess I can be a bit 'transparent' at times." She looks up and I wink. Her turn to blush.

"So Uncle Steve, tell me," says Emily, "what does a lady need to do to get a drink around here?" Big blue eyes. Full lashes.

"My apologies, Miss Emily, but as you might understand, I've been a bit distracted. What is your pleasure? And, please help me place your accent, and how you met Candy here - and I'm not really her Uncle, by the way - and did you two really coordinate outfits, and what on earth have you two been up to?" She looks at Candy, the two make sheepish grins at each other, and she replies..."

"Well, Uncle Steve - might you guess where I'm from?

"Sure. London.. Chelsea maybe? But not for school. Haberdashers, or something like that?" I look into her eyes intently. She balks. "um... not Haberdashers. Queenswood (*and how the hell did he know that???)"

"But," I continued, "the real question is how did you end up here as a co-conspirator to Candy?" (the school was a guess, but I figured it was something posh, and had a friend who's daughter went to Haberdashers. Chelsea, also a guess, was based on a picture I saw of Candy in the TV room, taken recently, with whom I now surmise to be Emily, outside the Saatchi gallery. It was a reach, and I got lucky.)

Candy looped her arm under Emily's and pulled her close. Breasts touching. Candy is wearing a golf shirt. Collared, tight short sleeves, tight fitting bodice, with all buttons undone. Her breasts are full and proud, and seem to dwarf Emily's gorgeous set in comparison. "Emily's family moved here my freshman year. She decided to do college here, and we met when I came home for winter break. We've been close ever since!," and gave Emily a squeeze. "But," Candy continued, "Emily is very busy and has to be leaving now..." she giggled, Emily balked. This was kinda fun, so I helped Emily out:

"Wait a minute... Emily still owes me answers, and I still owe her a drink. Gin and Tonic, Emily? Knowing Candy's dad, I suspect there's a decent bottle around here somewhere." Her eyes brighten, Candy frowns.

"Just a quick one Candy - I still need to clean up. How much time do I have?" She looks at the clock on the wall.

"Ok - a quick one." Emily laughs, quite unexpectedly. They head arm-in-arm to the bar and hop up onto the stools. I trail behind. As they sit, they cross legs, flashing undies. One pink, one purple. Christ, its almost like they practiced. Crossed legs hike up the skirts, showing perfect thighs. I can't help but stop and admire, then stupidly, reflect on the self-analysis I performed during my run. Seemed like a very long time ago.

Emily looks at Candy, they laugh. "Uncle Steve," Emily says a bit sternly, "have we lost you?"

"Oh - shit... sorry!" They laugh, and I head behind the bar and set up the drinks.

Emily launches into hysterical tales of British boarding schools, growing up in Chelsea (I give away nothing, insisting my insight as to her upbringing is solely based on a study of linguistics), her romantic notions of Miami and decision to follow her family to the area, and - a shared feeling with Candy it seems - her disappointment with the male-gendered undergraduate population of her university.

"As for the outfits," she continued, "nooo - we did not coordinate." She gives Candy a long, lustful look. "But we've been matching ever since we met... maybe it's even WHY we met..." She looks at Candy, they laugh. She continues: "so -we're kinda soul sisters in that regard.. we match all the time.. Except the panties." Candy shrieks in laughter and hits her playfully in the arm. Emily looks at me dead in the eye. "She's solids. I like pastels. Weird, huh?" I consider what I saw as they sat down and laugh to myself.

"No, not really" I deadpan. They're both now in tears with laughter. Emily continued... "and as for this afternoon, Candy wanted company shopping. Said she had a special date tonight." She paused for a moment, then... "Oh, my god..." she glared at Candy. "Uncle Steve's your date. Candy - I get to come too." The double entendre is not lost on anyone.

Candy, in a rare instance of not being in control, looks at her friend, then at me. "I really wanted some time to chat, Uncle Steve. But, as you can see, Emily is very charming, very beautiful, and I don't see how I'm going to get out of this gracefully."

I lean over the bar into Candy and take her hands. "Candy - Emily is important to you, as you are to her. Lets just go have some fun tonight. We can talk later."

Emily lights up and gives Candy a hug. "I should run next door and change. Meet you back here in an hour? With that, she's off. I admire her as she leaves.

"She's got a nice ass, huh?"

I'm an idiot - really have to learn not to oogle in front of others.

"Hadn't noticed," I replied, smiling as I turn to her and put my hands on her hips. Laughter. Thanks, god. She leaned in, kissed, and turned toward her room. "You'd better hurry," she said, "...and, since you wrecked my plans for you... you better dress to impress!"

I went back to my bedroom and stripped down. On the way to the shower, I stopped and admired some family photos on the wall. There was one of Cindy (Candy's mom), taken on their sailboat. I remember the day, and the outfit. Short loose-fitting white shorts, showing just a hint of the curve of her butt hanging out underneath. Wide black belt with a silver buckle. White button-up shirt, thin material, tied off at the rib cage, showing off a toned, muscular belly. No bra- she'd used the knot of the shirt for the little support she needed. Expensive hair. Honey blonde, layered, highlights. cute bangs, shoulder length. Strong arms - slight definition of biceps highlighted by the perceptible presence of the vein that comes with repeated visits to the weight room. Beautiful blue eyes, wide set. High cheek bones and full lips. Her smile is what makes the picture though - Its a smile turning into a kiss. Cute laugh lines around the edge of her eyes, turning upward whenever she smiled. Just a hint of wrinkles starting to form around her mouth. Tanned skin - maybe too much time in the sun over the years..Lots of freckles on her chest, but one could see the pure, white, supple skin of her breast where her shirt exposed the line of her tan. She'd just turned 45 when this was taken and, honestly, was hotter now than when we'd first met. She had an effect on me, and knew it, and liked to play. No harm ever done, but she could make me hard at will. My mind drifted back to the day the pic was taken.

Her husband, my brother, was as usual utterly absorbed with his latest obsession - getting a perfect trim on the sails. Had to admire him for this: the effort was at once both creative and technical, and demanded the best of his admirable intellect. Sadly, he'd do so at the expense of his company (unless they shared his obsession) and of his stunning wife. She accepted her fate gracefully, if not dutifully. After many attempts to garner her husband's attention, she turned her creative energies elsewhere - at least while on the boat, I thought.

Lucky me. Her manner of dress got increasingly provocative, and her flirtatious nature increasingly bold. By this time in our relationship, Cindy already had me pegged. She enjoyed my wit and innate sensuality, discerned the distance growing between me and my wife; furthermore, she sensed in me the need... the desire for touch.. for the warmth that lack in my life. So on this particular day with just the six of us on the boat (Cindy, her husband, another couple, Candy, and me), she started to explore the boundary... both physical and psychological.

The cockpit was tight for six people. Her husband was oblivious, focused on the sailing craft and barking orders to Candy, who was scampering around the front of the boat, doing his bidding. I popped out of the cabin and looked around for a place to sit. Candy bade me to her side, and cuddled into me. Her skin warm, soft, molded into my side. To face her other guests, she shifted around and I found her on my lap, facing the other couple. Her husband looked over his shoulder at us, shrugged, and got back to his quest.

"So Steve - as I was telling our friends here... I think sex gets way better as you get older, right?" The other two laugh as she leans across me, into them. Breast into my cheek. "I mean seriously," she eyes her female guest "did you ever get a decent pussy licking in your 20's?" Laughter. She grabs the inside of my thigh and squeezes. Cindy goes on for another twenty minutes, describing in considerable detail the manifest failures of her college lovers in their attempts to satisfy. "But," she continues, "to be fair, its not like I was expert in sucking cock either." With that, her hand slides between my legs and tickles my balls. Because of the way we're seated, no one can see her hand. Fuck. My hardon grows instantly, and with the tight shorts I'm wearing, zero chance of doing so comfortably, or discretely. Candy ignores my discomfort, and continues to scrape my shaft with a finger. She continues:

"So for me, it took someone with the confidence to stop me mid-slurp, look me in the eye, and tell me what he wanted. It was sooo sexy," she said conspiratorially. "He embraced me, looked me in the eye, told my how sexy I was, and put my hand on his cock. It was a turnon to feel it grow in my hand as he talked..." Finger still scratching my cock, unbeknownst to anyone else.

She then went on to explain her 'technique:' How to make her lover hard, and stay hard... the give and take of arousal and denial in order to maximize the ultimate pleasure... how to sense the beginning of orgasm and back off from it... how to find pleasure spots that increase arousal without inciting orgasm... all the while her finger exploring the length of my cock.

"So," she concluded, "with luck we have the relationships with our children that allow us to speak with them freely about sex... to help them learn how to enjoy one of life's best gifts without too much frustration or disappointment." With that, her fingers curl around my balls and give them a light squeeze. The picture on the wall was taken shortly thereafter.

Shit. I'd been there 10 minutes - totally lost track of time, lost in my thoughts. I had to hurry to get ready.

The shower felt great. Very hot, pulsing stream from the shower head. I lathered up, rinsed, then shaved in the shower. Dress to impress. What the fuck does that mean. I finish, step out of the shower, and start to dry myself, starting at my head. A knock at the door.

"Can I come in?" Not waiting for an answer, Candy opens the door. I hear her walking in... "I just need to get some... Oh - my.. sorry Uncle Steve... Don't mind me." Naked, towel around my head. I drop it and look her over. Dressing gown loosely tied, hair pinned up.

"I'm sorry," I said... "Is there something you need?"

"Lotion. All that chlorine. You need some too, by the way. Your skin's dry. May I?" Without waiting for an answer, Candy took my towel and started patting me down. "Cant' put lotion on dry skin," she said as she dabbed the water off me, "otherwise, it won't rub in." The tease started. She stepped behind me, towel in hand, and "dried" me. Hands on my pecs, teasing my nipples with the towel, breasts pressed agains the small of my back. Erection growing. Towel spools up on it as she works her way down my body. She slides her breasts down my back to my butt, working the towel with her hands. She gets to my cock, and strokes it with the towel. Throb. She purrs.

She works up the back side, from my ankles to my shoulders, taking deliberate time to dry my butt and ass crack. She 'saws' the edge of the towel between my cheeks, one hand in front, the other behind me. The pleasure is exquisite. "Time for lotion..." She works it into my shoulders, back, butt. She wraps one hand around my flat belly, the other underneath my butt and between my legs. Fuck... my cock strains for attention as she reaches from underneath and teases my balls.

"That chlorine gets everywhere, you know" she coos as she squirts more lotion into her hand. I jump in surprise as she takes the slippery goo into her fingers and starts massaging my taint, and my anus.

"Oooooh... do you like that Uncle Steve?" She makes little kisses against my back as she eases a finger against my anus. She looks into the mirror, and makes eye contact. It's pretty intense... She flicks it back and forth, and gently pushes against my anus until I relax, then, staring lustily into my eye, pushes a finger into me. The feeling is intense .. but.. I need a hand.. or a mouth.. or a pussy on my cock... its throbbing. bouncing in reaction to the plunge of her finger.. begging for her touch... She fingers me.. torments me.. pinches a nipple then...

"Just one more thing - " Candy drops down and nuzzles her nose into my crack, then makes a suction with her mouth on the cleft of my ass... and sucks. I'd pull away, but her finger is playing with me and I'm insane with lust. Ever get a butt hickey?

After a minute, she pulls away, turns around to me, presses into me and gives me a soulful kiss. "Time to get dressed," she said as she smiled, and turned, and left. Goddam pre-cum dripping off me.

Gray linen slacks. Fuchsia golf shirt, dark blue wool blazer, Ferragamo loafers. For fun, I elected not to wear underwear. I'd sort out family matters later. Plus, tonight was just for laughs. Right? Right?... The freedom afforded by the linen slacks sans my usual boxer-briefs is rather enjoyable; good for 'the boys' to have some room to relax. I pass through the kitchen, into the great room, and headed toward the bar when the doorbell rang. It's Emily. I greet her with a hug and a kiss, aiming for her cheek, but she turns into it for a full kiss on the lips. Just a tease of her tongue, then she breaks contact. There's a limo in the drive.

"I hope you don't mind," she says as she takes my hand and walks in. "I thought we might share a beverage or two over the course of dinner, and didn't want you to feel like you had to play 'chaperone.'" Nope. Don't mind at all. I turn and follow her in.

She's wearing a simple pale blue dress that accentuates her piercing blue eyes. More of a short robe really. Uneven hem; one side half way down her thigh, the other side just barely covering her butt. 4" stiletto heels. Not sure, but I think the only thing keeping it closed is a silk belt wrapped around her waist, tied at the front. The globe of her left butt cheek flashes a bit when she walks. She's a confident girl, and doesn't fish for compliments. I like that. She sits, crosses her legs at the knee. The dress material slides up and exposes her leg to her waist. The effect is immediate, well aimed, and well appreciated.