I suppose I should tell you a little bit about myself. A little background or something… But you don’t really want to know about me. You want to know about Summer, right?

We met… well, that’s kind of boring too. Let’s just say we met at an event. Or rather, that’s the first time we met as adults. I found out later that she was my niece. Long story short, I didn’t care much for my family. Feeling was mutual, so I didn’t bother keeping in touch. Last time I’d seen her was at her birthday party. She was turning ten. She giggled a lot and she liked to read. I hadn’t really thought of her since. Like I said, I didn’t really get along with my family…

Boring stuff, right? Right now, I’m living in a large town in the south of France by myself. Or I was until about two weeks ago. That’s when she showed up at a small art exhibition I was featured in. Like I said, at the time, I didn’t know who she was. All I knew was she was pretty. Really pretty. Maybe not drop-dead gorgeous, but for me, she ticked all the right buttons. Strawberry blonde hair. Green eyes. A really nice smile that seemed genuine. A nice laugh. Slim with just enough curve to the hip. Small breasts. I was a sucker for small tits. Can’t really tell you why, but hers were perfectly shaped. Perky, too. She was probably about twenty. Too young for me to have a chance with her, but damn, not too young to fantasize about.

I didn’t get a chance to talk with her much, but we did exchange a few sentences. She seemed intelligent, if a bit naïve. A little shy, but nice. With her looks she could have gotten away with being stuck up, you know? But I didn’t get that feeling. She liked my art. Another plus. God, I wanted to ask her out for drinks. Or take her back to my place and fuck her. I didn’t, though. I didn’t think she was giving out that vibe, so I just talked a little about my work and that was that. Later that night I admit she featured prominently in my fantasies as I wanked off in my bedroom, imagining her lips wrapped around my cock.  And again the next morning.  I might be nearing forty, but I still had the stamina of a young man. Besides, it had been a while since I’d been with anyone or even wanted someone as badly as I wanted the unnamed blonde girl. I spent the day regretting that I hadn’t hit on her or at least got her number.  Funny how things worked out…

I ran into her a couple of days later. It wasn’t some sort of serendipitous accidental meeting. There was a knock on the door, I opened it, and there she was, looking… amazing. Not the kind of amazing that someone puts a lot of work into. She didn’t need to work at it at all. She was wearing a sundress and a sun hat and no bra. That wasn’t a guess. Her nipples made lovely dents in the cotton. She looked a little nervous.  It was cute, really.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hello.” I replied, thinking to myself, ‘If you had any idea how badly I want to fuck you right now, you’d probably run screaming.’

“You probably don’t remember me…”

“Sure I do. From the gallery..”

“Yeah, but I mean...” A pause. Sometimes it pays to know when to keep silent, so I just stood there patiently, waiting for her, curious.

“I’m Summer. Your niece.”

“Oh.” Oh fuck.

“You don’t remember me.”

“Of course I do. You’re not… well, I remember you. Just not… like this.”

“Like this?”

“Like… grown up,” I managed, feeling lame.

She laughed. It was delightful. “Can I come in?”

That broke the ice. I chuckled, opening the door wider.

“Of course. I wasn’t expecting company. You took me by surprise.”

“I wasn’t sure I was going to…” she lifted her slim shoulder in sort of a shrug. “I mean, I barely remember you. Mom pretends you don’t exist.”

I laughed at that. “She’s probably not the only one.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Come in. Coffee? Lunch?”

“Sure.”

We talked. She asked questions. I asked questions. It was nice. I did my best to stop thinking dirty thoughts about her – she was family, after all – but it was… difficult. It didn’t help that she seemed sweet. Nice. She was too young for me, too. I felt like a dirty old man and I wasn’t even that old. Twenty or so years ahead of her, is all. Old enough, though.  She surprised me again (that would become a theme with her: surprising me).

“Be okay if I stayed here a few days? I mean, get to know you? I was going to Italy after this, but it’s all kind of loose. Playing it by ear, you know?”

“Sure. I have an extra bedroom. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Sort of. More of a storage space. It has a bed.”

“I could just sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll just move a few things around. Where’s your stuff?”

“Back at the hotel. I walked here. It’s a nice day.”

“I’ll help you. Call a taxi. Get you settled.”

“Okay. Thanks, Uncle Noel. This is great.”

“Yeah, it is.” So are your tits, I thought, unable to help myself. Wisely, I kept that thought to myself and did my best no to leer at her ass when she excused herself and went into the bathroom. God, she had a tight ass. Not sure where she got it from. My sister, her mother, had never looked this good. Dad’s side of the family?  Possibly.

It didn’t take long to collect her things, check her out, and move her in. She traveled light. Just a small suitcase and a handbag. To be that free and untethered again I thought with a pang of nostalgia.

I rearranged the spare bedroom for her and just like that, I had a temporary roommate. It would be nice, I decided, having company. Little did I know how nice, although I began to suspect shortly after dinner which I cooked, something I’m quite good at. Afterwards, I poured some wine and we sat around in the living room, catching up. It was obvious that she wasn’t exactly eager to go home.

“Mom drives me crazy. Dad too. It’s all about being successful, you know?”

“All too well,” I chuckled.

“Yeah, well, they’re driving me crazy, so I talked them into letting me travel a bit.”

There was a long pause. Not awkward. Comfortable. I found that I liked her. Not because she was pretty or hot or my niece, but just because she was likable.

“I found your address. Just in case. I was curious. You just sort of disappeared. I mean, there’s the odd Christmas card but… so here I am. You get high?”

I laughed at that. “Sometimes, yeah.”

“You want to get high with me?” she asked, a hint of hesitation in her voice. It was endearing, really.

“Sure.”

“Tin in the cupboard to the left of the sink.”

I would have gotten it myself, but I’d had just enough to drink that I really wanted to sit here and watch her ass as she went to find my stash. A quarter of an hour later, we were kind of stoned. Okay, I was kind of stoned. She was very stoned. That’s when things got interesting.

I was sitting on the love seat which is perpendicular to the couch so that they form an ‘L’ shape. She dropped the tin in my lap and sat, ankles crossed legs stretched out, sort of facing me, leaning back against a throw pillow, the light through the window turning her hair a soft gold and bringing out the red just a little bit more. The worst of it – or the best, depending on your point of view – was that, sitting as she was, her dress didn’t rise up quite enough to see what color panties she was wearing. Still, she had nice legs. Really nice legs. Her toenails were painted sky blue. She had cute toes. I decided that I liked being high and quietly admiring her, though, I thought, too much quiet might lead me to thinking of other things. Like how her nipples had become even more noticeable. Pretty sure it wasn’t hopeful thinking, either.

“What happens when you get back?” I wondered.

“Back?” She gave me a lopsided smile as she fiddled with a lighter and the pipe, taking a deep hit, holding it in, then slowly exhaling, coughing a little.

“Home. You going to school?”

“Not really. Not right now. Maybe someday.  Right now, I’m… exploring options,” she shrugged, biting her lip. I think she might have been blushing as she held the pipe out towards me.  “Come and get it.”

She pulled her legs back, sitting up and crossing her legs, yoga style, her dress riding up on her thighs, answering my unasked question. Lavender. Her panties were lavender. I settled down on the other end of the couch, legs crossed to hide my hard-on.  Fuck. Taking the pipe from her, I took a hit, eyes closed, reciting a mantra silently. She’s your niece. She’s your niece. She’s your niece.

“Okay to put on some music?” Summer asked.

“Sure. Requests?” I asked, reaching for my phone.

“Something… I don’t know. French?”

I nodded, watching as she leaned back against the pillow, head lolling backwards so that she was staring up at the ceiling as soft piano started to play softly over my bluetooth speakers.

“Pot makes me horny,” she murmured, her voice so soft that I wasn’t sure it was meant for me. Fuck. I did not need to hear that. I decided to pretend I didn’t hear her. A moment later I was pretending I didn’t see her, either, as she began running her fingers over her exposed thigh, her polish matching that on her toes.

“This is nice, Uncle Noel. Who is it?”

“Yann Tiersen.”

“He’s French?” This while squirming a little as if trying to find a more comfortable position, although her pose remained, more or less the same. The only real difference was that the hem of her sundress was riding even higher, giving me more than a glimpse of her panties. Did I mention they were lace? Worse, I was pretty sure there was a damp spot on them. I shifted as well, mostly to subtly re-arrange the uncomfortable erection in my jeans. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Very.”

More silence, the only sound the soft tinkle of piano accompanied by occasional accordion. Like I’d said, very French. I was content to listen. And watch. I wondered if she’d forgotten about me. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted, her fingers wandering upwards, tracing the edge of her panties where they met her thigh. Slowly at first. She shivered. Or maybe she trembled? I wasn’t even sure I knew the difference. Or if there even was a difference. I felt a compulsion to reach down into my jeans and re-arrange my cock again. Only, I was afraid to ruin the moment.

I thought she might have sighed. Or maybe it just looked like a sigh, her lips pushing slightly out. Her nipples pushed against the thin material of her dress, obviously swollen with arousal. She’s my niece. My niece. Fuck me, I told myself over and over as her fingertips slipped under the elastic band of her panties. Just her fingertips. It was the most erotic thing I could imagine, her sitting there, cross-legged, her breasts pushing against her dress, nipples jutting out, a slightly darker patch on her panties over her pussy, pausing, fingers poised…

“Okay if I… take a nap?” she asked, blushing. “Long day and I’m kind of… stoned.”

I wondered, when she paused, what she was going to say; sure it wasn’t ‘stoned’.

I waved, nodding, smiling, almost thankful that the temptation of her sitting across from me would be removed.

“Go on,” I told her, putting on my best understanding smile.  “I promise to be quiet.”

“Me too,” she said, giggling a little. “I mean, I don’t snore…”

I’d never really paid much attention to how thin the walls were, having lived alone for so many years. Not only that, she hadn’t quite closed the door all the way.  Whether that was on purpose or not, I had no idea, but it did mean that I could hear her. Not much, at least not over the soft music… so… with a sense of guilt, I turned it off and listened… she wasn’t loud, but she wasn’t exactly quiet either. Soft moans that built slowly. Mesmerized, I unzipped my pants, freeing my cock. I stroked it slowly as I imagine her propped up on the pillow, legs spread, hand in her panties, or… perhaps she’d pushed them down around her thighs. Pulling her dress off over her head, her tits perfect and perky, playing with her swollen hard erect nipples…

I was so hard. I wanted to come, but not before she did. I wanted to hear her or maybe even come with her… it was a dirty thought. A terrible filthy thing to want to do, but that didn’t stop me from wanting it. She took her time. It was sensuous, her moans rising in volume, growing closer. I began jerking myself off a little faster, a little harder, keeping up with her as she became more vocal.

“Holy fuck,” I heard her say. “Yes, yes yes, mmm….”

I pictured her, fingers in her tight wet slit, so pink, blue nails coated in her juices, her thumb brushing against her clit, her thighs trembling as she spread them wider, knees bent, her mouth forming an O shape – the perfect shape to take my cock. I could feel my balls tightening, so I slowed down, just enough to keep myself close, wanting to wait for her…

“Oh, god, yes,” she moaned. She sounded close. On the edge, just like I was, riding it out, prolonging the sensation as long as she could. I could almost hear her fingers plunging in and out of her dripping wet cunt – could be I just imagined it, but either way, it was the most erotic sound I could imagine. I let out a soft moan of my own, my eyes closed tight, jacking myself off hard. Only sheer force of will kept me from blowing my load.

“Come on, baby,” I whispered. “Come for me, can’t last…”

“Oh, god,” she cried out. There was no mistaking the sound of her coming – my gorgeous sexy niece – tipping over the edge, crying out in ecstasy, loud enough that there was no mistaking what was happening. A moment later, I joined her, ejaculating all over my jeans and the couch. I didn’t care. It felt so good. I wanted the feeling to go on forever…

Afterwards… she was quiet. I just lay there, breathing hard, hoping she couldn’t hear me, listening for anything… a sigh, a moan, movement… I wondered if she’d passed out. She’d certainly come hard enough and she’d been pretty stoned. Eventually, I got up and cleaned up as much as I could, my gaze drifting over to the door several times. It was still cracked open. Just enough that, if I wanted to, if I was quiet, I could stand there and peek through and who knows what I’d see…

The thought was tempting. Beyond tempting. I wanted to. Just a peek… but it felt wrong. It was one thing to get myself off while listening to her. She was the one who hadn’t closed the door all the way… In the end, I talked myself out of it, cleaned the place up a little and then took a cold shower and put on some clean clothes. Forty minutes, maybe a little more.

When I returned to the living room, thinking I’d grab a beer and maybe something to eat, she was there, still wearing her thin cotton sundress, although it, like she, looked slightly disheveled, although she smelled wonderful. She smelled like sex. I breathed in the barely-there scent of her pussy, of her sex, of her cum mingling in with the sweet smell of dope as she stood up from the couch, looking slightly embarrassed, and a little bewildered, a soft pink blush covering her cheeks, her eyes shy. She was still stoned otherwise she might have noticed how obvious her nipples stood out. I took a brief glance at her legs, inwardly groaning. She hadn’t thought to pull the hem of her dress all the way down and I could detect a glistening sheen coating her thighs. Pussy juice, perspiration, and cum. There were damp spots on her dress as well. Obvious wet patches. I wondered if she was a squirter. She’d certainly made a mess. I did my best not to stare, mostly because I didn’t want my cock jumping to attention right then and there.

“I was… wanted to shower?”

“Sure.” I pointed down the hall. “Clean towels in the cupboard. I was just going to grab a beer. Want one when you get out?”

“Sure,” she said, licking her lips and then smiling a smile that just oozed sex and yet seemed to innocent. I could only wonder.

“It’ll be waiting for you when you’re done. Take your time.”

And then, I just stood there watching her ass, thinking once more how perfect and tight and sexy it was, and how much I wanted to push her up against the wall and fuck her from behind and how wrong that would be… I actually breathed a sigh of relief when she went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

“Fuck,” I murmured as I helped myself to a cold brew. “Fuck.”