The taxi's brakes squeaked a little as it came to a stop at his apartment complex. Alan paid the man in cash, exchanged a nod, and pulled himself out of the car with a grunt. It was now nearly sunset, the skies darkening into red and yellow on the horizon. The heat beat down, but since the "outfit" Sarah had gotten him only consisted of tank top (horizontal striped in green and white) and khaki shorts, it wasn't too bad.
He trudged his way up the apartment stairs, a file folder full of depressing information under his arm. Near the top of the stares, almost out of habit, he glanced at his door.
A girl was waiting there for him.
He paused. Between the sun behind and the distance, she was hard to make out beyond her silhouette, but Alan could tell she was sitting with her back to his door, long legs stretched out, head back. The rest of her silhouette was blotted out by what looked like a suitcase upright next to her.
Alan rolled his eyes. "Well, here we go again," he muttered.
He took the last few steps up, and walked firmly toward his door, last on the end. As he approached, he made out more details. She had medium brown hair, long and straight, and wore white shorts, a gray sleeveless blouse, and sunglasses. She had a denim jacket thrown over her shoulder. The white lines of a headphone chords framed her face, and the hand not holding the jacket tapped at a phone with a thumb.
Her limbs were long, lightly tanned, and despite a modest bust, she cut a nice figure.
Eventually, he approached, and she glanced up at him, and then quickly got to her feet.
"Sorry," she said, her voice surprisingly low, "I was just waiting for..." She paused, leaning toward him. "Uncle Alan, is that you?"
Alan blinked. And then he stared. "Mira?"
She smiled, taking off her sunglasses. Her eyes were still that sea green. "Yeah, it's me. Been awhile, huh?"
Alan couldn't stop staring. "Five years, I think," he managed. Now that he could see her closely, he recognized that heart-shaped face, pointed chin, and of course the eyes. But her teeth where much whiter and straighter than he remembered, and the rest of her had... blossomed quite a bit. The tiny dot of a nose ring and streak of white in her hair were also new. "Wow, I hardly recognize you."
"That's what I was going to say," she smiled, looking him up and down. "Seriously, you look great. It's like you're moving in the opposite direction of my dad." She glanced at his cast. "Are you okay? Wow, those bruises look bad."
Alan hesitated. "Yeah, I'm fine, just an accident was all." He glanced at the suitcase. "So, uh, what brings you out here all of a sudden?"
She opened her mouth, holding it a moment while she shifted back and forth. "Well... actually, if it's okay, could we talk about that inside? I've been out here for hours, and my throat has gotten pretty dry."
Alan eyed her, but smiled and nodded. "Sure, we can do that."
"Great! Let me just grab my stuff."
She turned to the suitcase as Alan started to fish his keys out of his pocket. As she bent to grab the handle, his eyes were uncontrollably drawn to it: an incredibly epic ass.
It was fit like Alyssa's, but bigger, longer, and with a shape that sent a surge right to Alan's libedo. It was, bar none, the best ass he'd ever seen in real life.
And it belonged to his niece.
He managed to look away just as she turned toward him again, fumbling out his keys. He thought she paused a moment, looking at him, but he turned firmly toward the door. A couple creeks later later, he was leading her inside.
He gestured to the couch. "Go ahead and sit down, I'll get you some water."
"Thanks!" Mira pulled her suitcase inside and flopped down on the couch as he got out two glasses (one at a time, since he had to do it one handed) filled them from the filter in the fridge, and handed her one.
She took it with a smile, and downed half of it in one pull. "Oh, that is much better," she said, sighing.
Alan sipped from his own glass. "So... it's a pretty long way from Wisconsin. Mind telling me what's up?"
Mira made a face. "Well... it's kind of a long story, but the short version is: I kinda... ran away from home."
Alan's mouth twitched. He gave her a long look, but she only shifted slightly under his gaze. "Really? Kids still do that? I thought the whole thing with Millenials was you couldn't get them out the door."
She heaved a sigh. "Yeah, well. You've met my parents, especially my dad. Every move and choice is nailed down. Health conscious to a psychotic level, lectures if I so much as have a Coke, meals that are 80 percent vegetable. God, those vacations have every damn second planned out ahead of time."
She huffed out a breath, shaking her head. "So I turned 18 two weeks ago, and got this," she said, tapping her nose ring, "and he wouldn't shut up about it for a goddamn second. Like a nose ring was going to make me look like a slut, and ruin my chances for college, or something. I knew I had to get the fuck away."
She paused. "Sorry about my language. Do you mind?"
Alan shrugged. "Doesn't bother me."
Mira stared at him a moment. "You are so fucking awesome. My mother doesn't even like me to use the word 'crap'. I mean, can you get more stick-up-the-ass? I'm not a kid anymore, for fuck's sake."
"No, I guess not," Alan muttered. The image of her ass flashed in his mind, and he squashed it.
"So we had a huge fight, and I shut myself in my room. I packed up a few things and bailed out the window that night. And so..."
She hesitated. "So would you mind putting me up? Just for a bit!" She clapped hands together in a begging gesture. "Please! A friend of mine lives in the area, and I'm was going to room with her, but the apartment needs to be fumigated because they found a roach infestation. She's staying with her boyfriend in his studio apartment, so I can't go there, and I don't have the money for a hotel. Please? Just for a few nights!"
Alan chewed his lip a little. He took a deep breath. "Well-"
"Really, I won't be any trouble at all," she cut in, firing off the words rapidfire. "I can get my own food, do my own laundry, I can shower during the day when you're gone to work so I don't take all the hot water. Please?"
Alan held up his hands. "Okay, okay, slow down a little." He sat down on the couch next to her. "You can stay. But only for a little while, okay?"
She smiled with her perfect teeth, and threw her arms around him. "Thanks, Uncle Alan! I knew you were cool."
Alan tried to stop himself, but his eyes went right down. God, that ass was even great sitting down. "And don't worry about buying all your own food," he said, patting her back awkwardly. "I can stock the fridge. You can use the shower and the washing machine anytime."
Mira pulled away to arm's length, her hands still on his shoulders. "Really? Uncle Alan, you are the greatest! I promise it won't be too long. You won't even know I'm here."
Alan's mouth twitched a little before he smiled. "Well, I do have one guest bedroom. It's got some workout equipment in it, but it should be easy to move it so you can use the closet and bed."
"Awesome! I'd have been fine with the couch, but that's even better." She looked at him again. "And I guess you must be using that workout stuff. Seriously, you are cut. Flex your arm!"
Alan blinked. But he complied, flexing. Mira grabbed his bicep, squeezing it.
"Fuck yeah! Those are some guns."
She paused, blinking. Her eyes trailed to his face. She abruptly pulled away. "Uh, anyway, where's your bathroom?"
"Second door on the left," Alan said, pointing down the hallway.
"Thanks!"
She turned and hurried off. Alan tried so hard not to stare at her ass, he really did.
***
Alan changed the channel. He wasn't really watching, though. He couldn't seem to concentrate on anything but the sound of the shower coming from his bathroom.
He growled, and pressing the Input Change button, marched over to his TV, and pulled out a controller. He had to dust it off a little, and turning the XBOX on, and popped a copy of Left 4 Dead 2 in the disc drive. He settled back onto the couch, and turned up the volume. He started the quickest round he could get into, and slipped on a pair of headphones connected to the TV.
Which is why he didn't hear the bathroom door open, the sound of padding feat, pausing at the doorway. He only noticed when Mira jumped down into the couch next to him. He glanced at her, and did a double take.
She was wearing only a white camisole and black panties.
"I love this game," she said, staring at the screen. The cami hugged her nice curves, and the panties could barely contain the powerful roundness of her asscheeks. "It's been forever since I played it. It's fucking old now, isn't it?"
Alan managed to tear his eyes away from below to look at her face. She seemed relaxed, watching him waiting while the moaning zombies rattled closer. His cock started to stir.
"Oh, watch out, they're coming!' she said, and he managed to veer back to the game, but not in time. His character was mercilessly gored by bloodied, broken former humans before he'd shot his gun once.
"Sorry, I distracted you," she said, giving him a slight sideways smile. "But now that you've died, would it be okay if I played, too?"
"Uh, sure," Alan said. "There's another controller under the TV, let me just-"
"No problem, I got it," Mira said, jumping up before he could finish rising. She took two quick steps from the couch to the little cabinet/TV stand. She bent at the waist, and her magnificent ass pointed right at him, busting the boundaries of those bikini style, black silk panties. Alan felt his dick go rock hard. Before he could stifle it, an image of him thrusting between those perfect cheeks floated to the surface.
Mira seemed to stay there forever, hand rifling around, until she finally said, "Oh, found it!" and shifted sideways to plug it in before she straightened. She turned, giving Alan a smile, and walked easily back to the couch. When she did, she was a foot or so closer to Alan than where she sat the first time.
"Alright, let's get this on," she said, leaning forward with the controller in her hands.
"Sure. Pick whatever mode you like."
