The Usual Disclaimer: This is a work of fantasy. All characters featured in sexual situations are over 18. The characters in these stories are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead or undead is purely coincidental. Do not try this at home.
This story was written specifically for "Mike" as a birthday present. I only put this onto the site at his request, since he felt that many of you would share his enjoyment of this fantasy.
* * * * *
I thought my brother-in-law was exaggerating when he had called to warn me. "Mike, I appreciate you and Cathy offering to help," he'd said. "I just have to warn you, man. Tamara is trouble with a capital T. I love her to death, but that girl is a walking nuke when it comes to men. I'm just worried how having my daughter at your place will affect your marriage."
"We'll be fine," I had chuckled.
I really had no clue what lay in store for me and my wife.
Now I was in the airport with my wife, waiting in the baggage claim area, and I was glad I was sitting down. There was Tamara, riding down the escalator surrounded by five guys. I heard her breathy giggle before I looked her way, and I sucked in my breath. Ho-lee shit. She looked like the hottest stripper-slash-pornstar imaginable, and those guys were glaring at each other as they jockeyed for her attention.
I shook my head and realized my brother-in-law had not exaggerated. If anything, he had understated his daughter's impact on men; she was TROUBLE in all-caps, not just a capital T. She wasn't even scantily clad, and she was drawing that kind of attention. Her massive tits were glaringly obvious, even with a bra and blouse, and her jeans emphasized the perfect curves of her hips and thighs. I felt my dick stirring in my boxers and realized my mouth was hanging open. Fortunately, my wife was closer to Tamara and was looking that direction so she didn't notice my reaction.
"Oh, good lord," she murmured, shaking her head. When she looked at me, I gave her a little frown and shook my own head.
We hadn't seen Tamara in six or seven years. The gangly young teenager we had pictured bore almost no resemblance to the sizzling fuck-doll that was now bearing down on us. As soon as I stood up, it was obvious all five of those younger guys were sizing me up. Damn. They looked like they were ready to start some shit right there in the airport, and they couldn't have met my niece more than a couple hours earlier.
This is going to suck,
I thought.
Clever woman that my wife is, she put on a happy face and laughed, walking right up to Tamara. "Look at you!" she said, shaking her head. "I can't believe you're already sixteen years old."
Five sets of eyeballs shot open, and those guys scattered like a flock of startled pigeons.
"Oh, Aunt Cathy," Tamara laughed, hugging my wife, "you're hilarious."
In fact, Tamara was already twenty-one. She was legally old enough to drink and to take as much dick as she wanted. She licked her lips and looked at me over my wife's shoulder. It didn't look like it was a calculated move, like she was flirting with me or anything like that, but it was arousing nonetheless.
As soon as my wife released her, she scooted around Cathy and spread her arms wide, giving me an eyeful of her jaw-dropping cleavage before hugging me. Her breasts felt as incredible as they looked, mashed against my chest. Tamara's hair and faint perfume smelled too good to ignore, and I held my hips back from her carefully to keep my hardening cock from poking into her.
"Uncle Mike," she breathed right into my neck. "It's been so long. How are you?"
Rock fucking hard,
I thought to myself, even though I wasn't quite. Out loud, I said, "Just fine, Tamara. It's so good to see you again." Then I released her and stepped back, carefully keeping my eyes on her face. I gave her a serious expression. "I hope staying with us helps keep you out of trouble."
* * *
Trouble had followed our sexy-as-fuck niece around like a constant shadow the past couple years, and now I understood why. The police had to be called in three times to break up violent confrontations at my wife's sister's house. All three times it was fights between Tamara's would-be boyfriends. She had finally been arrested and charged with instigating a riot for wearing a bikini top to the mall. Tamara was given probation, and the judge had threatened to place her under house arrest if there was another incident.
When I had heard about it, I thought it sounded completely ridiculous. Now that I saw her in person, I understood why the police had felt the need to take her into custody. I couldn't help but picture her in a bikini top, and had to quickly squelch that thought before I got a full-blown erection.
I turned and led the way over to the baggage claim carousel, chewing the inside of my cheek as my mind worked frantically to figure out how I would deal with this new situation. I was replaying the recent phone calls with my brother-in-law in my head and understood his concern clearly. He had held back, unable to describe his daughter's physical impact without sounding like a lecher. That was understandable, but now the rest of those conversations—the part he
had
been able to share—did nothing to put my mind at ease.
Without saying it in so many words, he had let me know Tamara loved having sex. All the time. And I was bringing this sexpot into my home.
I also understood now why Tamara's parents had enrolled her in online college courses. Shit, I had seriously considered taking her to the college where I taught part-time. I had to shake my head at that thought. How fucking naïve had I been? I suddenly felt like that character in a horror movie, the guy who is full of bravado saying, "Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Scary monster in the woods." Then he craps his pants when he actually sees the monster.
I tried not to stare at the monster tits lurking in my niece's blouse when she slid by me at the luggage carousel.
Instead, I tried to focus on her face. That wasn't very much better. She was gorgeous, with slightly pronounced lips that looked like they were made to suck cock. She had slightly curly red hair, and I'm a sucker for redheads. My wife knows it is a weakness of mine, which is why she dyes her hair that color. When Tamara abruptly turned and bent over in front of me to grab her first suitcase, I knew I was a dead man. Oh my god, what a perfect ass!
I managed to tear my eyes away immediately, and looked over at my wife. She had seen me, and was looking right at me. I expected her to be upset, but instead she looked amused. She just smiled and shook her head slightly. I picked up the suitcase and took the second one from Tamara when it arrived. The entire way out to the car and all the way home I was dreading what she would say.
I tried to focus on the road and had to pay close attention once we hit the turnpike. As always, there were assholes who felt the need to make the drive challenging. It was a relief to hit our exit and yet I was getting more anxious by the second as we approached our house. I got Tamara's bags out of the trunk and did my best not to flinch when my wife patted me on the cheek.
"Relax, honey," she murmured quietly. "I'm not mad. You did your best not to stare, and I know it was hard for you."
"Um, thanks," I gulped. I still expected her to change her mind and chew me out at some point, but that never happened.
* * *
What did happen was that Tamara went into the bathroom right after we got inside, and came back out with her bra in her hand just a minute later. She sighed happily and spoke to my wife. "That feels so much better. I swear, I hate wearing these things."
Fuck! Just shoot me now!
I turned to my wife and shook my head helplessly. She actually snorted trying to contain her laugh. I took Tamara's suitcases into the guest room we had prepared for her, leaving it up to Cathy to give her the tour of the house. While they were doing that, I retreated to my home office and checked my e-mail. I had some work stuff there, which was good. It meant that I could work from home—barricading myself in this room if I needed to.
I gave an involuntary little jump in my office chair when the door opened behind me.
"This is Mike's home office," Cathy said. I swiveled in my seat and kept my eyes carefully on their faces as I smiled at them. I was relieved that I actually had work stuff up on my screen at the time. I often look at porn or read dirty stories in my home office, which doesn't go over well with my wife. Tamara looked around the room briefly.
I felt like I should try to have a normal conversation with them, so I pointed out the wi-fi router. "We have pretty good internet service here," I said. "This is the wi-fi. When you're ready to use your laptop or your phone, just let me know and I'll type in the password for you. It's a really long, gibberish thing my work computer generated. It's a pain in the ass, but my job makes me use it to work from home. They send me some sensitive information, so they have to be careful."
Tamara was looking right at me, nodding as I explained it to her. It took all my self-control to keep my eyes locked on hers when she nodded—her massive tits bobbed up and down with every movement. Even out of my peripheral vision her hard nipples were obvious where they poked out the front of her blouse. Then she looked up at the ceiling and chewed her lip thoughtfully for a second. When she did, she turned her torso from side so side and her magnificent breasts swayed hypnotically. My eyes shot over to my wife's face, and she was also biting her lip, struggling not to laugh.
I let my shoulders sag and gave her my best, "Oh, come on!" look. Her amused grin and the way her abdomen flexed as she silently laughed at my discomfiture did nothing to help me.
Tamara abruptly looked back down at my face and she smiled. "Why don't I grab my laptop and have you set that up right now, while I'm thinking about it?" she asked. I nodded, and she turned and scampered out of the room. There was nothing I could do; my eyes took in her bobbing breasts as she turned, and then that fabulous ass when she hurried out the door. I swallowed heavily and looked at my wife again. She busted up laughing.
"I'm glad you think this is funny," I growled, shaking my head.
"Would you rather I was mad at you?" she asked, still smiling at me.
