Awakening 91

The soft warm golden cascade of giggling notes washes over me, all innocence but still, to my ears, so seductive and sensuous.

She wriggles her hips to accentuate the musical notes of her laugh as her eyes shine brightly with a wicked sense of naughtiness.

Her beauty, her shy charms, her innate gracefulness, and supple flawless skin captivate me.

Does she truly not realise the power she has over me, does she even know that I would reach up and throw the moon off its axis, if only she asked, she could command the world to kneel at her delicate tiny feet and I would make it happen for her.

If she only knew, she would ruin me.

The strong afternoon sun highlights her slender frame, making her glow, her hands weave their way around from her back as her hips sway gently, drawing her thumbs across the bottom hem of her tight white singlet, teasing the fabric and toying with me.

Agonisingly slowly, her index fingers capped with long polished nails slips under the fabric, making small circles on the soft skin of her stomach, and then they begin to lift. The fabric inches upwards, over her flat stomach, the deep cleft of her navel captivating my gaze, she is enticing.

Her hand continue to lift the thin white fabric as my eyes devour every inch of flesh she carefully reveals, then she pauses, hesitates, and in a small voice she almost whispers, "Are you sure this is ok?"

I fight to calm my breathing so my response does not come out all ragged and horse, "Yes of course Natalie, after all it was your idea, but of course, if it would help, I can always close my eyes!"

She giggled once more, her voice quiet, almost whispering, "No that's ok." Then with her green eyes sparkling with fun and with a quick fluid movement; she lifted the rest of her singlet up, over her breasts, and off her head, throwing it casually aside, she stood before me, naked except for those tiny little denim shorts, and I am lost; I am done for, for she is perfection.

Her slim torso, her small pristine breasts firm and taut, and her delicate pink nipples, the vague hints and suggestions contained within the tight little tops she has worn all summer now realised in her beautiful naked, perfect flesh.

I fight to keep my mouth from dropping open and retain my friendly, reassuring smile, but I cannot stop the words, "Totally stunning" I gasp.

If she noticed the gasp in my voice she chose not to comment, she simply smiled her beautiful smile, a slight blush rising on her delicate cheeks as she whirled around to sit back down in the sun lounger.

I sit, slightly back from her to maintain my perfect view of her stunning body, glowing with health in the strong sunlight, my eyes hidden by the dark sunglasses, for which I am grateful; she cannot see the look of deep burning lust that must be blazing in my eyes.

Such a dangerous, potent situation, a beautiful disaster in the making, the way she has been with me from the moment she came back. My beautiful niece, my twin sisters' nineteen-year-old daughter, now home for the summer from university, she seems to have grown so much in the last year, and it is all good.

I would have to be blind and stupid not to notice her naïve dance of seduction. Her soft slender hand covering mine every chance she got, her awkward signals, and such innocent flirtatious looks. She acts shy, her bottom lip quivering. She is desperate to please, and the subtle interplay between us, the intimate confidences she shares so readily. The direct, and the indirect questions, the unsubtle ways in which she asks and confers, as if she cannot get enough of my words and I smile my warm smile each time she acquiesces so readily, eagerly to my slightest suggestion, and her almost seemingly desperate need to please me.

She watches me so intently; I can feel her eyes boring into my back as I walk across the patio to my own home. I have watched her also; late at night, her bedroom light shining bright, and her blinds remaining open as she stares directly at my windows and slowly, teasingly disrobes. She parades herself in front of me, every chance she gets, the short bathrobe left a little too loose, so that tantalising hints of firm breasts are exposed. Around the garden on hot afternoons she wears the shortest shorts and the tightest of tops, she makes every effort to let me know that I should look, that I should want.

Today is special, both her parents are out of town and she is sitting in my back garden, she asked if I minded if she sunbathed topless and why, oh why dear god would I object.

To me she is beautiful, mouth-wateringly beautiful, and so full of awkward youthful grace. She reminds me so much of my sister when she was her age, and it breaks my heart to see my beautiful sister with such a careless bully of a man. I know Natalie is my niece and it tears at my very soul but the possibilities hang so precariously in the space behind my eyes as my subconscious desires rise to the surface. Her smile, her slender frame, and flowing red hair, how she moves with such youthful ease, limbs seeming to flow like a lithe reed, then her smile shines like a beacon, infectious.

Then an opportunity for us to be completely alone, it was unexpected, my Sister's Husband having won a free weekend hotel trip to the West End, taking in a show, for his department hitting some sales target. Sis did not want to go, but he insisted, not that he was interested in spending time with my sister, but more to show off to his work colleagues. I knew Sis would find it hard, but I guess she knew it would be harder to refuse him than to simply go and keep out of his way.

I have lost count of how many times I have had to step in the middle of his anger, his bullying, lost count of how many times I have told my Sister to leave him, but she would not whilst Natalie was growing up, she always was stubborn that way, a child should have two parents she insisted. Even though I know exactly where she was coming from, as her twin, to a single Mother who struggled to raise us both, but I could not agree less with her on this issue.

If he were a kind, supportive person I could forgive the odd outburst, but he is not, never has been, never will be.

My thoughts are dark, brooding so I fail to notice the afternoon slip away, I feel her delicate hand shaking my shoulder, "Wake up sleepy head" I hear her say, laughing as she adds "maybe the sun is too much for an old guy like you."

I open my eyes to catch a glimpse of her top slipping down over her flat belly, so I sigh inwardly, "Not so much of the old, baby girl" I retaliate.

She laughs her gentle laugh again, "I am going to shower and change, come over later... please." She said, the slight hesitation in her voice sounding like a plea.

"Oh, I might struggle with that baby girl, after all us old folks needs our rest you know" I respond and she laughs as she turns and skips away through the gate between our two houses and I am left to clear up once again.

I shower, take some time to eat a sandwich, watch the news and then as the late afternoon sun descends further below the hills, I make my way over to her house, and I know the moment I walk in, kicking off my shoes and stepping over the porch, that she has a plan.

Immediately I sense her whole demeanour is different, she has her own plan, a plan that she is determined to go through with, and why would I deny her.

Her nervousness is so evident, that small quiet, hesitant voice of hers, her eyes so bright and sparkling, boring into me so that I cannot mistake her intent, "please... I... I want you... I know it is wrong, you being my uncle, but I am yours, please!" those beautiful, magic, glorious words, tumbling out of her pretty pink bow like lips in a sudden whispered rush, "Whatever you want me to do just say... I'll do whatever you want."

I am lost... totally lost in my wanting.

Almost shaking, her insecurity now plain, she reaches trembling slender arms up around my shoulders, clasping her graceful fingers behind my neck, her eyes half close, her soft, moist pouty lips inviting me to taste.

My breathing stops as I lean down, gently, tenderly, I brush my lips over hers, teasing, caressing little flicks with the tip of my tongue, savouring, I taste her desire burning on her lips as I breath her essence deep into my soul.

There is something so young, so femininely innocent about how she looks in that summer dress, the casual way that the top two buttons, left undone on the bodice of her dress, just to allow that tantalising hint of naked cleavage, yet another affirmation of her wish, her desire.

I know I am wrong, and I know that I should resist, she is vulnerable, so youthful bright and fresh, not versed in the ways of the flesh, but I am weak and not immune to her invitation.

I watch the easy, lilting way she walks, as she breaks our embrace and heads for the stairs, inviting me, drawing me to her. I follow, feeling my bare feet on the rough, uncarpeted wooden stairs as I climb, each step only serving to heighten my sense of awareness. The golden hues of the late afternoon sun streaming in from the small window on the landing creating a halo of warm bright light around her flaming red hair.

No words are spoken, none really needed, and the quietness only increases the immediacy and intensity of my excitement, as I watch her from behind, so alive, so pale, and beautiful.

She fills the entire space, the scent of her, the pale cream of her dress, and the slight flush on her neck that bleeds into her youthful cheeks, the way her hair moves, everything, she seizes my every sense, and I am intoxicated with her.

The look of naughty playfulness that she casts back at me is spellbinding, her hand reaches the doorknob; she pushes, disappearing briefly from view as the room engulfs her. I follow, walking into the room, my eyes adjusting to the sudden cool dimness. The stillness of the air disturbed only by the motes of dust, trapped in the shaft of sunlight surrounding her, dancing lazily through the heavy atmosphere, heavy with heat, heavy with tension.

I take the room in with a single sweep, large, spacious, dominated by the big old fashioned brass bed against the far wall, the sparse furniture, plain walls seems to fit together so well but not really what I expect in one so young.

She spins gracefully around to face me, causing her dress to swirl, emphasising the slenderness of her legs, her arms coming to rest in front of her, fingers entwined together, head bowed appealingly, as she looks at me from under her eyelids. I am almost unable to breathe as my hunger for her eats at me, coursing through my body like a fire.

I move close, close enough to smell the captured sunlight in her hair, intoxicating, I move deliberately slowly and so very gently, as if to calm a timid animal, my hand reaching up to her chin, lifting her beautiful face, she softens into my touch as I lean down, kissing her cheek, inches from her soft lips.

Pulling back slightly, wanting with such an intensity but, willing myself not to lose control and frighten her off, gently, tenderly I kiss the throbbing pulse in her neck, the tip of my tongue softly caressing her warm skin, I feel her arch her neck allowing me greater access, electric, trembling and breathless. I slide my hand behind her head and into her hair, then slowly pulling her head back. I lean in and kiss her lips, lingering, tasting the sweetness, my lips exploring hers, before she willingly parts her lips allowing her small pink tongue to flick out invitingly. Our tongues touch, tiny moans escape, as our tongues taste each other's mouth, exploring tentatively.

Soft, sweet kisses, light tongue flicks, a lover's first kiss, building slowly into a deep, possessive kiss, hot, filled with hunger and rising passion, sending a rush of desire surging through my body, I struggle to keep a grasp of reality telling myself I have to concentrate; stay focused, and allow her plan to unfold.

I release my hold, drawing back a few paces, my eyes devouring this beautiful, timid creature, so obviously nervous, yet eager. Her petite body trembling slightly, the flush on her cheeks the colour of her flaming red hair. I take a deep breath in, holding it before slowly letting it go, on the exhale I speak, "Tell me exactly what it is that you want from me!"

Her head lifts, through pretty green eyes she looks at me, lustrous bright, a small hesitant smile playing across her face, a flush infusing her cheeks, she nods once, almost reverently, her beautiful eyes never leaving mine, searching for acceptance.

I hold my breath and smile encouragement as her bottom lip trembles. Then slowly, so very slowly, she lifts first one, then the other small hand, reaching up, deftly flicking the buttons on her bodice. It falls open, exposing her perfect alabaster cleavage giving me a further glimpse of her firm young breasts. Each hand reaches the straps on her shoulders, pushing them off so that her bodice peels away, falling around her slender hips like the petals of a flower unveiling.

Time stands still, and there is no sound at all other than the waves of my heartbeat breaking in my ears. I cannot blink, cannot speak, cannot breathe, I watch mesmerised as the summer dress seems to hover momentarily before dropping off her boyish slim hips with ease, one kick of a delicate foot sees it skitter across the floor, and then she fills the room with her presence, this ravishingly beautiful girl standing stark naked before me.

My tongue flicks across my now dry lips, struggling to breathe, drinking the vision of perfection before me. Yet I wait, fearful of scaring the ethereal beauty who stands so obediently naked before me. That moment vanishes, as I realise she has thought this through very thoroughly.

She is perfect, her pristine breasts, small and firm, untouched by ravages of time or careless handling, her soft pink nipples, an exact match to her lips, they look so full and hard with the slightly darker puffy pink flesh of the areola themselves bulging. It is as if her nipples are elegant punctuation in a verse of poetry, pert, tight, and stiff. I let my eyes fall, over a perfectly flat belly with the deep cleft navel, down to where the slightest hint of pale red wisps clings to her mound.

"Please," I hear the tiny trembling whisper issue from her perfect lips, her face tortured with uncertainty, the question hanging in the still air, her legs pressed together, flattening her thighs slightly.

I do not measure the time I look, drink in this vision, my own wonder, and appreciation reflected in my bright eyes. "You are very beautiful," I say, she smiles, shyly, delicious, beautiful petite young thing, she pirouettes slowly, allowing me to devour her. Her fine red hair cresting around pristine shoulders like breaking ocean waves in a sunset, green eyes sparkling, soft, pink lips offering herself up, her whole body glowing.

She walks over to me on silent graceful feet, a small nervous smile playing across her lips, just the faintest hint of insecurity making her demeanour so utterly adorable.

Time stands still in slow motion, my hands reach up to cup her face, moving my lips down to hers, gently, brushing my lips against hers, her eyes closed, I cover her lips in small kisses, her breath becoming heavier, the light fragrance of her perfume, overpowering as I slowly eased my tongue into her mouth.

She moans against my insistent tongue as she learns quickly, sliding her tongue against mine. My hands move off her face, down around her back, pulling her close, never breaking the kiss. The soft push of her breasts against me ignites the growing electrical charge between us as our tongues swirl and dance against each other's, time is lost as willing mouths draw the essence of passion to the surface, flush and hot, she begins to softly moan and whimper.

My hand trails lazy patterns down her back, her body melts into mine, exquisite, her small sighs of pleasure, music to my eyes, my fingertips brush her hips, as the lazy patterns continue, gliding my hand between the valley of her breasts and down the slope of her right breast.

I let my hand roam over her firm breast, her hard nipple pressing against the palm of my hand, she presses her chest forward against my hand, the skin, so soft, yet firm, warm, I squeeze and stroke, allowing my thumb to flick across her nipple, it springs back, her whole nipple almost quivering with every flick.

Now both of my hands engulf a breast, they are beautiful, so soft, pliant, yet firm; the nipples erect and hard and I adore her puffy swollen areoles. I can feel the heat emanating from them and her chest flutter as I continued to massage and gently knead the soft mounds of flesh, I change my motion, now flicking her hard little nipples, each time allowing my thumb and forefinger to close around the nub, pinching lightly, twirling the delicate buds, turning her soft moans into gasps.

Her arms came up, wrapping around my neck, almost as if clinging on for dear life as my hands continued to explore her tight svelte body. One hand massaging her beautiful breasts while the other continues down, stopping briefly to trace the outline of her navel, before finding the downy softness of her sparsely covered pussy, electric, beautiful, silky soft heaven. She spreads her legs involuntary, automatically, as I run gentle hesitant fingertips along the edge of her pussy lips. My eager finger discovers her clitoris, and I love it, I trace the soft folds of delicate flesh, warm and wet, surprisingly wet, the sweet slickness expressing her arousal, the tip of my finger finding her clitoris, hard, sticking up, begging for the attention, the heat that is radiating from between her legs almost burns my urgent fingers.

I toy with her, stroke, tease, making small circles around the hard hot bud of her clitoris, flicking her sensitive flesh, then two fingers, slow, savouring every slick wet fold of delicate skin, slipping, gliding, my fingers dance in passions release.

I kiss her on the cheek, twirling slow patterns on her warm skin with the tip of my tongue, before sliding one finger between her pussy lips. She swallows convulsively; I feel droplets of juice ooze out from the side of my finger, invading her one knuckle deep. God she is tight, so tight, velvet soft and warm, and with each consecutive push of my finger, she drips molten honey.

I relish the feelings of my finger penetrating her body as she takes short, quick breaths, clinging to me, her head held far back, stretching her slender neck. She feels on fire, the inside of her pussy hot to the touch. Her body begins jerking a little and then as if suddenly paralysed and released to flex taut and stiff, her fingernails digging into my neck as I keep my finger busy, letting the tips massage her soft walls.

I look at her beautiful face, her eyes squeezed shut, her lips pursed in a tight circle. "Please" she mewled in soft hesitant moans. "Please" her pleas make my heart beat faster, my hand between her legs moves quicker, pushing as deep into her as I can, which is not very far. Grinding my wet palm against her mound, rubbing her hard, hot little clitoris, her body now writhing against mine, I raise my thumb manoeuvring the tip to flick back and forth across her clitoris as my finger continue to pump in and out of her pussy. Causing her to shudder, emit soft squeals of pleasure, and writhe in my arms.

Her hips lifting, bucking automatically against my hand, picking up the pace, my finger starts rapidly pumping in and out of her tight opening as my thumb increases the pressure of its rubbing on her clitoris. Her body goes rigid, stiff like a plank of wood as her pussy explodes with a thousand convulsions gripping my finger tightly, wave after wave seeming to break in her perfect frame, shuddering. She struggles to catch her breath, smile at the same time, her body continuing to spasm, and tremble so beautifully.