My Niece Misty

This is my 1st attempt at writing a story for the site. I've been a fan for a few years and read numerous tales, mostly focused on mom/son scenarios. In the past few months, however, I've noticed 'interesting' moments happening with my niece that pushed me to give this my 1st try. I actually studied writing in college, but very often got lazy and spent long periods only typing on my phone. Often, I require a muse to inspire me to write, and I found her.

Please be kind, and I welcome "Constructive" Criticism. All characters are over 18 yrs old age!

Misty

I am the youngest of a handful of brothers. Our parents were older and had their vices so they're gone now, resting in peace while my brothers and I now have only each other and their families. They all have at least one child, and one even has three; two boys and a girl. Her name is Misty, and she is the purpose of my tale. I never had kids, or not as of yet. I spent a long time, a decade or two, taking care of the folks at home. Consequently, I never really found anyone and built a family of my own. That may or may not be at the core of why I have felt the way I have felt.

A number of years before my brothers and I lost our mother to illness, my older brother moved back home to live with us and work nearby. He kept his family three hundred miles away in a 'Smaller' town where his kids had grown up. At least once a month, or sometimes even every other week, he heads back to see everyone and take care of any errands that need his attention.

When our mom finally succumbed to her illness I found myself alone in the house on the weekends when he would head home. We have another brother living in the same city, but nevertheless it got boring and lonely to stay home alone so I decided to start joining him on the drive back. That helped me to avoid not only feeling stir-crazy all by my lonesome, but it provided a necessary break from the familiar for a weekend. Also, I would get the chance to see my niece and nephews in there home setting. It was definitely an experience.

My nephews playfully cussed the house down right in front of their mom and dad. And my niece was no exception. She was a big-time tomboy with her brothers, giving as good as she got. If she wasn't such a gorgeous angel, strangers hearing their conversations from the outside would think my brother had three boys. A lot of their banter was "Fuck You!", and "Fuck That!"

As I was saying, my niece Misty is the focus here. She is a gorgeous, dainty, brunette angel of 21 yrs. Her dark hair showers down her back only five inches shy of her full, bouncy bottom. Now, don't get me wrong! I think all my nieces are little beauties, but Misty has always caught my eye. And now that I've been spending more time around her when I visit the family with my bro, I'm drawn toward how she's matured into a young woman. I've even begun to exhibit an ironic response to her presence: Attraction.

My attraction to her was in no small way due to her many forms of rebellion. Due to her dad working out of town, and her mom having mild control over the house, Misty and her brothers do virtually whatever they want. Of course, they helped their mom around the house and listen to her (for the most part), but they have also grown into their own identities. One of my nephews has quite a few tattoos while the other comes home from school about every two weeks with his girlfriend and the two sleep together in his bed. Misty, herself, often comes home from work after a night shift, showers and changes, and heads right back out the door to hang out with her co-workers.

I always tried to stay out of everyone's way for the most part. Not that they didn't welcome me when I would accompany their dad to the house. I just became accustomed to being the 'odd man out'. Thankfully, to my nature, it wasn't too difficult to casually stand-off in a corner and be a fly on the wall while they went about their business. It could be a Hilarious experience hearing them all tell stories about incidents that had occurred throughout the week, and I would even share tales of my own memories of similar experiences.

On one particular Saturday afternoon, Misty had been wearing a very sweet outfit consisting of a gray sports bra and blue cotton shorts. She was very often barefoot and my gaze would, from time to time, dip down to watch her yummy little feet walk her around. She would wander around the kitchen arguing with her older brother about this and that and then telling her dad about plans she had later in the day. She would then pass right by me heading back to her room while my gaze followed.

Amazingly, a mere three minutes later, a noise distracted me from the conversation between brother and nephew and I turned my head to the left. Misty had changed in record time into a fancy looking white summer dress. It's fabric seemed slightly transparent; not entirely see-through, but I could definitely make out a black bra underneath. The shoulder straps of the dress were draped off her shoulders lightly to reveal the bra straps, and the faint impression of the cups underneath. The skirt came to just a handful of inches above the knee. I was torn between thinking how incredible she looked in the dress, and how quickly she'd actually changed. She was still barefoot and I was only somewhat surprised to watch her stroll around the kitchen again with everyone else paying little attention to the way the dress looked on her. I shook it off as the one of the qualities of her youthful rebellion.

Once I'd adjusted to the sight of her in the dress, she once again passed right by me heading back toward her room. As sudden as the first wardrobe change had seemed, only a few moments later she was again exiting her room having changed back into a long gray t-shirt. It stretched down to just above her knees so I couldn't be sure whether she wore any shorts underneath. For all I knew, she may have just been wearing a pair of panties. I saw no impression of the black bra so she had either changed to a white one, or had abandoned the bra altogether.

I had to ask myself whether she had changed outfits like that on purpose. I had always seen Misty as this sweet, cute, young woman who was my adorable niece. Even her voice was precious. It had never changed very much from when she was a little girl. Now, however, I was seeing first-hand the very attractive, brazen woman she'd grown into. She flaunted herself openly, and I suddenly wondered if she was just being rebellious, or did she actually want me to see her like that? Was she playing around, or exhibiting a mild form of exhibitionism? And, had she flaunted herself in that white dress for my benefit?

For a while after leaving her room in that t-shirt, Misty had resigned herself to sitting in a chair in the living room to play on her phone. She had her left leg crossed over the right. Her cute little foot swinging back and forth while I sat on another couch at an angle to her left. I pulled out my own phone and proceeded to check a couple of things: Recent notifications, new Facebook posts, an email here and there, etc. Her position never changed so she was likely absorbed in whatever was on her phone. Her foot stopped swinging for a moment, and I suddenly had a strong urge to capture the sight of her in that shirt with her legs crossed as they were. I glanced at her face as she was focused on the screen and tilted my phone upward. Opening the camera app, I carefully disengaged the flash and put her right into the center of the lens. I zoomed in just a bit and 'Snap!'

A short while later she uncrossed her legs carefully and stood up. She walked back toward her room.

"Taking my shower!" her precious voice announced.

"Alright, baby," her dad called out from the kitchen, "I'm fixing up some lunch for us."

She called out "Yumm!" and I heard her shut her bedroom door.

I stood up from my spot on the couch and headed back into the kitchen to find out what my brother had been doing in there in my absence. He liked to keep busy and actually prepared most of the meals when he visited on weekends.

While I was doing what I could to offer my help in the kitchen, and often checking my phone, I could hear the bathroom door across from Misty's room shut. I made my way from the opposite side of the kitchen, where the kitchen and garage shared a wall, back into the living room. From that vantage, I could see the light on in Misty's room. My curiosity got the better of me. I had only seen into one of their rooms: my younger nephew's! It was actually an ironically tidy space given his age. That was where my brother often slept while his son was at school.

I walked over while hearing my brother working on dishes in the sink. On my approach, I could hear the water pressure through the bathroom door on my right. The interior of the room on my left told the story of a twenty year old minx who did NOT share the tidy nature her brother did. Ooooh-Wee!!There were clothes strewn every which way. A couple pairs of shoes that she's obviously kicked off and allowed to land....Wherever! The bed was unmade with a wrinkled sky-blue sheet and light purple blanket bunched in a ball in one corner. Against the wall to my right was her dresser with light bulbs lining the edges of the rectangular mirror. There were no posters. I supposed that custom was a decorative idea left behind by my generation. The carpet in her room, like much of the rest of the house, showed that no one bothered to run a vacuum very often. Well, to each their own!

I decided to flee in case her shower was brief and I didn't relish the notion of having her open the bathroom door to catch me spying on the inside of her woman-cave. I walked back over and stood against the back of the couch; half-sitting, half-standing like the corner of a desk. My brother turned around from the sink and raised his eyebrows.

"What's going on?" he asked at the same time that I heard a loud metallic snap from behind. Just in time, I thought!

His eyes shifted to my right.

"We're going to eat as soon as you're dressed, Ok Baby?!" he said.

I turned just as Misty was walking by my right shoulder. My eyes almost bugged out of their sockets. All she had put on after her shower was a light blue towel. Her hair hung down across the back of her bare shoulders with that sexy wet look, and all of her legs were on display as her bare little feet carried her right passed me. She was angelic with nothing hiding her womanhood but that slight towel.

"Ok, daddy, I'll be right out!" her precious vocals sounded out as she walked into the kitchen, reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of juice. She then turned and headed back to her room, passing by me with a sweet light 'Hmmm!' as she smiled.

I looked over and saw my brother putting a skillet onto the stove, and then turned my head and watched Misty's lithe, half-nude body amble into her bedroom and shut the door. I stood straight up and went to stand against the edge of the doorway into the kitchen. My brother turned from the stove toward the fridge and opened it to retrieve a carton of eggs.

"How do you want your huevos, Bro?"

I looked at the entire carton he had taken with him to the stove. No doubt he would be making a late breakfast for everyone simulaneously. Did I forget to mention that when I accompanied him on weekend visits the family only eats twice a day, that I've witnessed.

"Surprise me!" I said, and turned back toward the couch.

I sat back and glanced over at Misty's bedroom door. I now had a personal dilemma, of sorts. I took in all of the exhibitive behavior that Misty had done and asked myself a question. Was she just naturally like that because of her age, or was she actually showing off for me? She was proving to be an incredible treat for the eyes. The only other moment of exhibition she demonstrated that day was while we were all having breakfast. It was her older brother, mom, Misty and myself at the table devouring the eggs, sunny-side up, with toast that my brother had prepared. Misty had decided to sit right beside me to my left.

While cussing along with her brother and chatting with mom, she sat a bit low in the chair. She had only put on a pair of pink shorts and a light white top with spaghetti straps. The heel of her right foot was perched on the chair with the toes pointed upward. The left foot was on the floor tilted so that the sole faced me. She had her hands on her chest with her face in her phone.

Everything may have been a sign, or it may have been entirely coincidental. I wasn't sure whether or not to let my imagination run wild with possibilities.

She and her brother spent a lot of time watching tv and having animated cursing matches with each other. I ended up taking at least two more sneaky shots of her while they played video games. Later on, toward the evening, she retired to her bedroom informing her parents that she was going out with some friends from work.

I only caught up with her a couple more times the next morning before her dad and I prepared to head back home. My bro and I got our bags ready and everyone collected for goodbyes. Misty hugged her dad, and when she approached me she wrapped her arms around my chest and I decided to make the most of the embrace by holding her tight and running my handgs across her back. I then stretched backward attempting to lift her feet off the ground a little. And just as she released her arms I cleared her hair off her face and laid a smack right on her cheek. She responded with a 'MWAH!"

And we were out the door, headed three hundred miles west.

To Be Continued...