Digital Camera On The Beach

I worked as an English editor at one of the large textbook publishing houses in New York. My brother, who lived out at the end of Cape Cod, was always inviting me to visit him, but I always seemed to be too busy.

This time it was different. I had four days in a row off at the beginning of October, so I thought I would spend a few days with him and his wife, Jenna.

But I had forgotten about their daughter, Allison. She was only 14 when I had last seen her, and I remembered that she was very pretty, dark-haired and slender.

Now she was eighteen years old and home from college on a brief vacation. I could not believe how beautiful she had grown: about five foot six, slender and with curly brown hair and a beautiful smile.

"Uncle Donald!" she cried, "How nice of you to come. And guess what? It's my birthday today!"

Drat! I had no idea. But luckily I had brought my checkbook, so I wrote her out a check for $50 as a birthday present. Her parents gave her a $100 gift certificate to Filene's, and her boyfriend Mark, who was still back in Boston, had bought her a digital camera.

When I got up the next morning, I found her in the kitchen packing what looked to be a picnic lunch for two in a basket. She was dressed in jeans and a Boston University sweatshirt.

"Are you doing anything today?" she said with a smile.

"Not really."

"I want to try out my new camera with some pictures along the beach, and I wondered if you would go with me. You have and know how to use a digital camera, right?"

"Yes, I do."

"Good, cause I packed a picnic lunch for two—and even borrowed a bottle of my father's French Chardonnay to try and tempt you with."

"That would work all right."

"Great. Can we go now?"

"I guess so. I haven't had any breakfast yet."

"I brought some bagels and cream cheese."

"Okay, it's a deal."

"Great!"

She grabbed the basket in one hand and a large beach towel in the other.

"Can I carry the basket?" I offered.

"Okay. The camera's in there too."

Well, I had been looking forward to reading that day, but I guess there were worse things I could do than walk along a beach with a beautiful young lady.

Little did I know what she had in mind.

About a mile or so up the beach, she walked over to the edge of the dunes, spread out the large beach towel and put the basket at the end of it. "This will do," she said. "I'm hot from the walk though. Do you want to go in for a swim?"

"Sorry, I didn't bring any bathing suit."

"That's all right, neither did I. This end of the beach is always deserted. No one wears a bathing suit out here."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well, I'm game if you are. But I would appreciate it if you don't tell your father about this."

"I won't, but I have a favor to ask."

"What's that?"

"Mark, my boyfriend, said he would buy me a digital camera for my birthday if I would take some nude pictures of myself and send them too him via e-mail attachment. But I can't really take pictures of myself—so I wondered if you would do it?"

"You want me to take nude pictures of you."

"Yes."

"Cavorting in the surf."

"Yes...plus one other."

"Which is?"

"Tell you later. Let's go for a swim!"

She whipped her sweatshirt over her head, at which point I discovered that she was wearing no bra, and tossed it on the towel. Then she unfastened her jeans and shucked them off. She was not wearing any panties either—and had a beautiful little tuft of auburn hair which seemed to be trimmed at the bottom.

"Ta Ta!" she cried. Then she ran off toward the surf.

I could not believe it. Here I was in the company of a naked 18-year-old, young enough to be my daughter.

I took off all my clothes as well and pulled her camera out of the basket.

For the next half hour, I took pictures of her running naked in and out of the surf, smiling and laughing. I didn't look, but I could feel that my penis was thicker than normal and even beginning to rise. I don't know if she noticed it or not.

Finally, we went back to the towel. I handed the camera to her. "Now I'm going in," I said, turning.

"Okay. Do you want me to take your picture?"

"No thank you." I ran out to the surf. The main reason for my going into the ocean was to bring down my obvious arousal.

When I came out, she was lying sideways on the towel and seemed quite comfortable with her nakedness.

"You're really beautiful," I said.

"Thank you. I have one other favor to ask," she said.

"Which is?"

"Mark also wants a picture of me thinking of him."

"How would you do that?"

She paused. "He wants a picture of me masturbating—and coming."

Now I really needed to go back into the surf.

"Would you do it?" she asked, "You aren't offended, are you?"

"No, I'm not offended. Everyone masturbates. It's just that I've never been asked to take a picture of it before."

"Here's the camera." She handed it to me. "I'll lie down and close my eyes—and try to think of Mark."

"Okay, but I think you should be required to have a real orgasm. No faking it, like girls do," I said with a laugh.

"Okay, I'll try, but I've never done it with someone watching."

"There's always a first time for everything."

"Okay." She laid flat on her back, spread her thighs and put both hands between her legs. I started shooting. And good little trooper that she was, after about ten minutes, she finally did have an orgasm—which I could tell from her moaning and trembling.

In the meantime, I was still naked as well and now had a hard-on which could not be missed.

"That was impressive," I said, "And I got some good pictures of you. The only problem is you're so tight I didn't SEE any orgasm."

She looked down. "You're right. What should I do?"

"Well, I could verify it—and then give you a certificate of authenticity."

She laughed. "You would do that for me?"

"I'm sure it would be my pleasure."

"Okay."

I knelt down beside her and slipped my finger between her parted thighs and into the tight folds of her pussy. She drew a deep breath as if she was going to have another one. It was authentic all right. She was slippery and slick inside. "It's real, all right," I said.

"Is there anything I can do to thank you for all the trouble you've taken?" she asked.

"You shouldn't even ask a question like that when I have my finger inside of you," I said, "I'm not going to be able to get my pants on as it is."

That's when she looked at it. "I was trying not to notice," she said.

"It's all your fault."

"I know. I'm really sorry."

"That's okay, I'm not. But I still don't know how I'm going to be able to get my pants on."

"I could bring it down for you," she said.

"How?"

"There are two ways. Your choice. But let me tell you first that thanks to Mark, I'm on the pill. I wouldn't mind doing the whole thing if you want to. Actually I miss having sex since I've been here."

"So I would be doing you a favor."

She smiled. "You would be doing me a favor."

"Oh well, in that case, I guess I can oblige. But you're my niece. It's practically like incest."

"I know," she said with a smile. "Doesn't that sound like fun?"

And it was fun. I pushed my engorged member into her tight slit and fucked her for at least twenty minutes—until we both came.

"Wow! I wish we had pictures of that!" she said.

"Me too. Let's ask your boyfriend to take some."

We both laughed.

The End