Uncle Bob

Chapter Six -- It's good to share

Author's note: Thanks for the feedback so far - but please could I have some more? The next few chapters extend Bon and Stacey's relationship, sometimes into dangerous new territories. If anyone has an idea for how I can get some MMF into this story, please let me know! Enjoy

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We arrived at the restaurant at the mall -- the same one where Stacey had nearly been discovered in mid-orgasm earlier that day - just before seven, and found a quiet booth where we could be fairly private. I had persuaded her to dress some way short of the goth/skank/street whore outfit she had originally suggested. By comparison, her mid-thigh pleated skirt and sweet little pink t-shirt were demure. I'd even got her to wear a pair of shoes that, despite having an ankle strap and four-inch heels, didn't immediately scream 'hooker!' at you as she sashayed by.

A waitress brought our drinks, and while I made a show of reading the menu, Stacey sat so she could see anyone coming through the door.

"Stacey, I'm still not convinced this is a good idea. This could be dangerous, or embarrassing, or both." I felt sure that we were taking a big risk here, but Stacey had, as usual, wrapped me around her finger, and once more I demonstrated my will of putty when faced with the prospect of some hot pussy -- or especially some hotter ass.

Then Stacey waved, and Barbie appeared at our table. Stacey rose and kissed our guest on the cheek. I decided to do likewise. I then nodded to the waitress and ordered Barbie a Margarita, and some chips 'n' dips for us to share.

After we all sat down again, I was able to admire Barbie a little better. In the store, I could barely take my eyes off her peachy ass. This evening, she'd put on a dress with a lot of spandex in it, and it clung to her curvy figure -- just like I wanted to do. On a lot of girls, a dress like that would be, well, rather too revealing. It would show all the unwelcome curves -- the bulging belly, the cellulite thighs, the Jell-O ass -- as well as the lines of underwear. With Barbie, there were no unwelcome curves -- and no lines. The skirt was perhaps a little shorter than Stacey's, and it showed off her excellent, nicely-shaped legs. She had obviously dressed to impress. Her makeup was sexy but sophisticated, and her short, dark hair was nicely cut and shaped.

I wasn't the only one to have noticed Barbie. Every pair of eyes in the place followed her to our table. As she sat down opposite Stacey, I could see all the guys looking at me, thinking "so what does

he

have to be there with two hot chicks? A twelve inch dick or a million bucks or something?" I felt proud, and a little embarrassed.

Actually, I had also made a real effort to look my best, guided very firmly by Stacey. She'd insisted I shave, she tidied my hair using lots of gel, and made me put on a smart shirt, jacket and tie. "You so want to look like you're a regular, sophisticated guy, and totally not some skuzzy stalker."

"So is that how I usually look to you, Stacey?" I had said as I adjusted my tie, just before we left my place.

"No, Uncle Bob. It's just that, like, I know that you have this totally awesome body under your clothes, but in those old t-shirts and baggy pants you don't, like, show off what you're made of."

I wouldn't exactly say that my body is 'awesome'. I do try to stay fit, and I built a pretty decent body shape doing karate and tae-kwon-do at college. I could see what Stacey meant, though. My day-to-day wardrobe could best be described as 'skuzzy casual'. I mostly work from home, building games and the websites I used to market them. I only put on anything even halfway smart when I meet clients, who are often more casually dressed than me. I'd gotten so used to jeans and t-shirts, I'd forgotten how to look smart. So I felt a little uncomfortable in my jacket and tie, but the look seemed to impress Barbie, which was the desired effect.

"You know," she said, as she sipped her drink, a little nervously, "I really wasn't sure when Stacey phoned -- it is Stacey, isn't it? I mean, when I saw you in the store early, I didn't know what to think. You see, Stacey looks so young, and you, Bobby, you look so..."

"Old?" I added, quizzically.

"No, not old," she replied quickly. "No. but sort of -- well, more

mature

, I guess. And a little -- well, strange looking. I was surprised by what Stacey had said. To be honest, I found it hard to understand what a pretty girl like Stacey was doing with -- if you don't mind me saying so -- a rather average looking, and definitely older, guy like you. Please don't take this wrong. I just mean that -- well, you weren't exactly dressing to impress."

"Yeah, he's, like, so not into dressing up. But when he does, he totally looks cute, don'tcha think?" Stacey giggled with excitement, sucking suggestively on the straw in her glass of Coke.

"Well, Bobby, I think you definitely look more attractive than earlier. Frankly, when I first saw you, I thought you looked a little scary. It was only because Stacey seemed so sweet and spoke so highly of you that I agreed to even meet in a public place. But now I can sort of see what she means."

'Gee, thanks,' I thought. Having been Mr Buttfuck earlier, I was now Mr Skuzzy. Some girls really know how to build a guy's ego. But I wasn't going to interrupt or challenge a girl as hot as Barbie.

"So what's with you guys?" She addressed her question mostly to Stacey. "Like I said, when I first saw you in the store, I felt that this ought to be wrong. You know, Bobby being so much older than you. And then you just coming out and saying how you guys do," she glanced around, leaned across the table and said, more softly "like,

anal

sex. And then Stacey saying how good Bobby is at doing it. I really didn't know what to think."

"Hey, that's totally OK," said Stacey. "Like I said, Bobby is a friend of my dad. I've known him for, like, years, but when my dad and my mom got divorced a few years ago, he was so there for me. We became totally close, like so the best buddies, and he never did anything, like, sexual, with me. He was just so cool and loving and kind and stuff. And we just used to hang out, and I sorta got used to calling him my 'Uncle Bob', even though we're not, like, related. Then when I hit eighteen, and I was horny all the time and had these guys totally hitting on me, and I couldn't, like turn to my mom and dad for advice, Bobby was there for me. And when I needed to like, learn stuff, I just asked him. And he totally helped me, and, like, made it all good."

"I see." Barbie looked rather unconvinced. "Of course he'd be there to help you." There was a note of irony in her voice.

"Totally!" Stacy said, in her usual breezy tone.

"I think what Barbie means, Stacey, is that an old -- an older guy like me would clearly have manipulated you so that I could take advantage of your innocence." I could understand her suspicion, but it wasn't for me to refute it.

"NO WAY! When I wanted Uncle Bob to take..."

"Stacey!" I gave her a sharp look, and she realized that half the people in the restaurant were looking in our direction. She pulled a face and leaned in across the table.

"See, when I wanted to -- to lose my cherry, it was like, I needed someone who loved me. Now see Uncle Bob -- Bobby -- he had loved me better than my daddy for like, years, and he'd never hurt me or tried to touch me in, like, a sexual way, and totally never even looked at my titties through my t-shirts or up my skirts and stuff."

Actually, that wasn't strictly true. The last year or so, it had been harder and harder to ignore Stacey's increasingly more blatant jailbait outfits. But no, I never did touch her 'inappropriately', and I didn't really go out of my way to admire -- OK, ogle -- her increasingly sexy little body. Or, for that matter, to

avoid

getting tantalizing glimpses of it. But I wasn't about to contradict my slutty little angel. After all, she was always the one who led the physical contact, apparently considering that it was perfectly appropriate to hurl herself on top of me on the couch and snuggle down as if I were some giant teddy bear, from age six to age seventeen.

"OK, Stacey, I believe you. It's just that when I see an older guy with a young girl, I can't help thinking 'sexual predator'." Barbie gave me a still-suspicious look.

"Barbie, if you don't mind me asking, have you had a bad experience with an older guy?" I felt there was definitely something behind this apparent hostility. If we couldn't defuse this, tonight was going nowhere.

"I -- well, yes, you could say that. I -- I don't really want to talk about it."

"Sure, I understand. But please believe us both when we say that our relationship has been built on love and trust over many years, and has only recently turned sexual, and then completely at Stacey's instigation. We've actually talked about getting married, if we can and the time is right." I looked at Stacey, and she bit her lip and nodded back.

"I see. But if you love each other so much, why did you -- approach -- me? Surely Stacey is enough for you. And why would she want to share you? I was surprised when Stacey started telling me how hot you were. To be honest, I didn't really believe it. It was only because she seemed so genuinely excited that I gave you my number."

Stacey and I looked at each other. It was a good question. Exactly why had we approached Barbie when we had so much going?

Stacey spoke first. "Like, when we saw you, we both thought you were sooo hot. And, like, when you talked about the Sybian, and I sorta said how totally awesome anal is with Un -- with Bobby, and you so looked interested, we thought it could, like, be sorta -- fun."

"Barbie. I'd also like to know why you agreed to meet with us tonight." I needed to get to the point here. I kept my voice low and directed my gaze straight at Barbie -- not a bad view. I wasn't used to making eye contact with girls this hot. "You seem to me to be rather suspicious of our motives, which I can sorta understand. But here's the deal; Stacey and me approached you because -- well, because we both thought it would be fun to hook up with you. Stacey gets off really strongly on anal. I think that when she first had the idea, she was excited about demonstrating to someone how good it is for her, and being a generous kind of girl, she just wanted you to experience the same pleasure she does. Actually, I think she wanted the thrill of teaching someone else how to do anal."

"Totally," Stacey added with deep sincerity.

"Then when you started talking about the Sybian, I think it also occurred to Stacey that it could be fun to play with another hot girl. Stacey's very adventurous -- perhaps the most experimental girl it's been my good fortune to meet. Nothing's off limits, and she's very up-front about sex. Like she said, she seduced me, and believe me, I was as unsure as you seem to be about how appropriate our relationship was when she first suggested it. But as you can see, Stacey is very persuasive. So Barbie, I think you know what we want out of this. What made you want to come here tonight, and what do you want to do next?"

"I -- I really can't say why I agreed to this meeting. I guess that my sex life with my boyfriend right now is a little -- repetitive. Dean's quite a guy, very strong, with a big dick and lots of stamina. It's just that -- it's kind of a routine, if you know what I mean. He can fuck me for hours, and he usually makes me cum, but it's the same program each time. And when he tried anal, it hurt like hell. He does want to do it with me, but I guess he's just too big and I'm too tight. I don't know."

"Yay! Un -- Bobby can show you how cool it can be. He's not, like, small, but he's so not enormous either. Sorta totally perfect. And it feels awesome!"

Barbie smiled at Stacey. Then she reached out and took Stacey's hand gently, looked into her face, then turned her gaze on me.

"Maybe what really made my mind up was Stacey. Bobby, I can see that you know she's pretty special, and when she started talking about all the stuff you guys had done, so matter-of-fact and excited, it made me feel wet and tingly. And it wasn't just her enthusiasm for anal, but I felt... You see, I've never been with a girl before. Well, that's not strictly true. A few kisses and feel-ups in high school, but never -- never anything,

serious

. So seeing Stacey, hearing her talk about sex so breezily, I thought she had the right sort of mix of adventure and innocence. I just thought -- why not?"

She looked at me, and I nodded and smiled. Her expression had thawed considerably, and she now seemed much more comfortable than when she'd come into the bar.

"And what about your boyfriend? Isn't he going to miss you on a Saturday night?"

"Dean's away at this bodybuilder's convention. I used to go along to those things, 'cuz there were all these really fit guys there and I got loads of attention, but that only made Dean mad, and one time he hit me when he thought I was too interested in someone else. Actually, if Dean spent more time licking my pussy and less time posing in front of the mirror, I'd probably be really happy with him. But I thought, well, he'll be back on Monday, and I won't have a chance to get away, and then I might never know -- what it would have been like. I was only working today because he wasn't around."

"So it seems, Barbie, that we all want to keep this pretty discreet. You wouldn't want Dean to know about us getting together, and Stacey and me want to keep the nature of our relationship private. It wouldn't do for her dad or mom to find out about us." Or the cops, I thought. "So do you want to take it further? What would you like to happen tonight? Did you fantasize about something before you came here?"

Barbie looked a little uncomfortable. "This all seems a little -- sordid. Like I'm some sort of hooker or something."

I reached out and put my hand over Barbie's. It was a slightly cheesy gesture -- I tried to not make it look like we were building a pyramid of hands, mine over Barbie's over Stacey's, if you see what I mean. I kept my voice soft, friendly and above all, quiet.

"Barbie, it's cool, and I understand where you're coming from. If you like, we can just stay here and have some drinks and food and stuff and be friends. Or you can leave now and never see us again."

"I -- no, that's not what I want..."

"Or you can finish your drink, and we can all go to a motel, and Stacey and me can spend the evening giving you a lot of pleasure -- and I do mean a lot. And we won't do anything you don't want. If you'd like me to please you with my cock inside that beautiful peachy ass of yours, I'd be delighted. If you're not sure, you can watch Stacey have multiple orgasms as I do it to her."

"Yay! Oh yes please, Uncle Bob!" Stacey said, again forgetting to use my 'grown up' name.

"Or the two of you can munch pussy all evening while I watch."

"Totally! Like, whatever Barbie wants, I'm so gonna need some cock. And do you have, like, one of those, like, Sybian things I could try? They sound way cool. And I think I'd so like, er, Bobby's cock in my ass at the same time. That would be totally awesome!"

I had to stifle a laugh at my slutty angel's enthusiasm. I looked into Barbie's eyes. They were wide with excitement at the thought of what we could do. She smiled at me, the first time that I felt she had properly relaxed all evening.

"I have a Sybian I use for demonstrations in the shop. I have my keys with me. If you tell me which motel, I can meet you there."

"Sure. There's a small place on Lincoln that I know. The rooms and the beds are big, and it's discreet. I'll check that they have a room, and maybe we can meet in the car park and you can follow us?" I'd spent a few blind-date, one night stands at the place. You can park right by the door of your room, so there's no need to drag any hot babes (or in my case, desperate, under-dressed no-hopers) through the reception and arouse suspicion. "Oh and Barbie? If you're still a little worried about your safety, you can always leave a note in the shop saying where you've gone, as a sort of insurance policy."

"Bobby, I don't think that will be necessary, but thanks for reassuring me. I'll see you in the car park in ten minutes."

Stacey and I watched her sashay out of the bar. So did every other guy in the place, and at least half the women. "Oh Uncle Bob, this is so awesome. Tonight's gonna be, like, like..."

"Awesome?" I suggested.

"Oh, so beyond awesome! Barbie's so hot! I so want to lick her pussy and feel those lovely big tiitties, and see your cock go into her butt!" Actually, I thought, so did I.

I drained my beer -- just one, as I needed to concentrate -- and Stacey finished her Coke. As I squeezed out of the booth, I was aware of a wet slick on the leather seat where Stacey had been sitting. So, it would appear that my slutty angel had forgotten her panties again. I surreptitiously wiped it up with a napkin, and reflected that it was going to be an interesting night.

********************

The room was OK. It was clean, and the furniture wasn't too tired or shabby. There was, as requested, a single, king-sized bed that could sleep three comfortably. Not that we would be doing much sleeping. There was a good-sized mirror on the wall opposite the bed, and another on the wall alongside it -- always a nice touch if you're planning on fucking a hot girl -- and the bathroom had a large whirlpool tub. In short, it's not the kind of place you go for a restful vacation by the pool (there isn't one). It's the sort of place that people go to fuck, and the management clearly know this. There was a good selection of cable porn on the TV, according to the little cardboard strip along the top of the big flat screen, but I felt sure we wouldn't be needing that.

I'd decided against filming our little adventure, as I guessed it would freak Barbie out. Instead, I'd brought a bag-full of booze, including wine and Margarita mix, and as soon as we got there, I went and filled the ice bucket. When I got back, Barbie and Stacey were 'getting introduced'.

There's something deeply and inherently horny about seeing two hot chicks kissing. Watching hot lips and tongues slipping and sliding around, over mouths and necks, while hands wandered, at first shyly and tentatively, and then more urgently over sexy female curves, is quite a spectator sport. After a minute or two, while I sat, totally engrossed, on the edge of the bed, Barbie pulled Stacey's t-shirt up and over her pert little titties, and then dipped her head to taste the hard nipples. By now, my boner was of a significant size and pressure was building in my pants.

I decided I'd try to join in, just tentatively. I moved in behind Barbie and started kissing the back of her neck, and running my nails down her upper arms. I usually find this conveys more of a message of 'don't worry, baby, I'm here for your pleasure' than simply grabbing the girl's tits or slapping her ass. After this had received a broadly favorable reaction, I started to peel the tight jersey dress down over her shoulders and past those rather lovely titties.

And those titties were even lovelier in the flesh than under the tight fabric. Some tits look great in a low-cut dress or a sassy lace bra, but sag disappointingly when unsupported. Others are so patently plastic that they look like a pair of those domed plate covers they use in fancy restaurants. Not only do they not sag, they don't actually move. They just hang there, nipples pointing accusingly at you as if to say 'don't you dare tell me these are false!'

Not Barbie's. Her name -- or nickname -- may have been based on something made of plastic, but her tits certainly didn't look the part. Nicely rounded, just the right bounce, slightly up-turned nipples with small aureoles. I ached to touch them, but I waited until Stacey's curiosity led her to the same place. I guessed Barbie liked that, because her back arched and she let out a rather husky little moan.