All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old.
*****
By the time Nel reached her bedroom and closed its door her overloaded emotions were running riot. Furious frustrated tears streamed as she took a flying leap and flung herself face down into her pillows. She sobbed and shook uncontrollably. Her bedclothes and pillows absorbed the sound but gave no comfort. When she was all cried out Nel rolled over and thought about Uncle Claude. She had had a crush on him ever since her tenth birthday party when he had rescued her from that bully Donald Trask. Her dad had insisted Donald be invited because his father was important to dad's business.
Nel remembered swinging on a board swing under the sycamore tree in the backyard when suddenly she was being pushed from behind. Donald ran under the swing, she went way too high, got scared and fell. When she landed the wind was knocked out of her, her dress flew up and there stood Donald pointing a grubby, stubby finger at her and singing:
I see London, I see France,
I see Nelson's underpants!
Uncle Claude came out of nowhere, scooped her up in his strong arms, carried her into the house, put her on her bed and said, "You rest easy here, Kiddo, and don't fret about that mean boy. He won't bother you again."
Nel didn't know what he meant exactly or what happened but it had come true as sure as if she had blown out the birthday candles and wished it. Not only did Donald not bother her again, he didn't bother anyone else she knew either because his father took him out of school and sent him away to another school out of state.
Thinking of her knight in shining armor made Nel smile and she felt a familiar tingle in her pussy. She pushed her left hand down inside her pajama pants and twirled her first two fingers in the fine, nearly transparent, peach fuzz at the top of her mons. Scratching lightly at first, but with increasing vigor, she welcomed the seepage that began to lubricate her cunt. She moved further down through the down to the plump slice she knew would be slippery wet. Nel ran her long middle finger into her slick open lips. Her other fingers pinched and squeezed the sensitive outer lips together around her finger as she dredged her channel from bottom to top.
Gasping, Nel reached her right hand across her chest and burrowed between the unbuttoned plackets of her pajama top. She cupped, then rubbed, then grabbed and twisted her left breast while she pushed down her left hand, with her finger two knuckles deep into her cunt, and pressed her thumb onto her stiff clitoris. Her gasping breath grew faster and more shallow. Groaning and moaning, she tormented herself to her ecstatic climax. "Oh Uncle Claude!" she whimpered "Unnh... OHHH!"
After the last wave passed and her breathing had returned to normal, Nel got up and pulled off her PJ's. Standing in front of her closet dressing mirror she studied herself: front, back and profile. She knew she had a nicely shaped feminine body because of how boys at school always stared. She had never gone out twice with the same boy because her dates always tried to hit on her. Of course, she rebuffed them because they were crude and besides, she only had eyes for Uncle Claude.
Nel put her hands under her breasts, pleased by how they jutted naturally and had a nice jiggly bounce. She wore bras because her mom and the school had stupid dress codes. Her titties could stand on their own, just like now. Sliding her hands down over her abdomen she liked how her former 'tomboy' hips had flared out a little in the last year or so. She smirked. "You are definitely an 'hourglass,'! Not some dumb ol' 'apple,' 'pear' or 'banana.'" Nel laughed and spun around again. Looking over her shoulder she admired the way her bottom was round and soft but twitched and caved in when she flexed just a little. Nel arched her back, stood on tiptoes and grinned. "You are in trouble SO BAD, Uncle Claude!" she said to her naked reflection.
In the next room, Claude snored, oblivious to any perils. He had quickly wound down after the strain of the news and his long drive. The excitement of Nel, obviously coming on to him, was still insufficient to overcome his greater physical need: sleep. He had managed to fold his shirt and slacks, putting them on the desk neatly with his T-shirt laid on top, and stuff his socks into the toes of his oxfords. Wearing only his boxer shorts, he climbed between the cool sheets of the fold-out bed, pulled the light wool blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes. His luminous watch face showed 2:45 a.m. but he didn't know it.
Claude felt the bed jostle and woke in darkness. His left arm lay flopped over his face but he was aware of another body laying beside him. When he opened his eyes he was staring at his watch and saw it was 3:22. On his right side, pressed against his ribs and snugged under the covers, was Nel. Her head lay on his bare chest. Her right arm draped over his stomach between his navel and the waistband of his shorts.