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Part 4: Don't Let Your Father Know
by Kris Kennedy The following is part 4 of the ongoing story "Don't Let Your Father Know." If you're looking for parts 1 - 3, you'll find them in our archives. But to get you right into part 4, here's where we left off:

"Down, boy, I kept telling myself. This dangerously eligible brat is your neice -- by paper if not blood -- and at best you would cause a family scandal. I scanned the room for Carey, to see if he was hawk-watching his daughter, if he was close enough to see a tent in my pants."

[And now for Part 4:]

When the song was over, she said, "OK, so let's talk now."

She led me out of the function room and through another empty function room.

"Where are we going?" I asked. None of my girlfriends had ever been so bold or uninhibited. So wickedly fun.

"Where we can talk," she responded.

She pushed open a door and we were standing in what looked like the ante-room to a lady's bathroom. It had dim pink lighting, mirrors surrounding, a dressing table and even a couch.

"This is a ladies' room," I said.

"So? No one's going to come here," she said. "So have a seat. Relax." She put her hand on my chest and pushed me back. I let myself fall onto the couch. I thought she was going to sit beside me. I craved it, actually. But she didn't.

"OK, Uncle Jerry, so talk," she said.

"Uh..." I said, feeling hot under the collar. "Don't call me uncle."

"Why not?"

"Well, I'm not your blood uncle. I mean I'm only related to you by a marriage and an adoption."

"That makes you uncle enough," she snapped, curving her fingers and placing her rounded hands under her breasts. She started running her hands around the mounds, sensuous and slow. "So what did you want to talk about?"

She pushed her tits upwards. Then she pushed them flat against her ribs. When she let go, they bounced out into fullness. She repeated her moves. She did it in rhythm. Watching her breasts burst full at the end of her cycle, fleshy and fluid; it was mouthwatering.

My cock was already beating to her rhythm. "Your Dad wants you to go to college," I told her.

"And what do YOU want me to do?" she said.

Oh, yeah, she knew what I wanted her to do. Strip yourself bare and spread your cunt so my cock can slide into you like butter. She knew because she was running her index fingers around her nipples. She made the nipples poke through her dress; I couldn't take my eyes off them, they looked like niblets I'd want to suck between my teeth.

"I think it's a good idea," I said. God, did I feel like an idiot, a horny sex-starved prick going through the motions of being a good uncle and trusted advisor. Meanwhile she was getting off on doing this to me.

"School?" she questioned in her spoiled-girl, pouty way. "I thought you wanted something more interesting than that."

"Why not go to school?" (I ignored her suggestion out of pride.) "Your Dad will pay for it. And you can do all the things you're doing now."

"You mean all the men?"

"What?"

"You mean I can fuck all the men I want in college, just like out of college -- isn't that what you mean? I'm sure Daddy told you how 'promiscuous' I am."

So the gloves were off.

"He didn't put it quite like that," I said.

"I like guys to get dirty with me. But college boys are too young, I mean, about sex."

"Good. Then maybe you might get some work done while you're at college."

"I rather do other things."

"There's more to life than fucking."

"Funny you should say that while you have such a bump in your pants," she pointed out.

It was broader and longer than a bump.

"But I've already been to college," I argued. I stood up. I walked towards her, close to her, and then tried to pass her. She put her body between me and the door.

"No, don't go," she said. "I won't be fresh. Let’s talk about college then." She looked up at me, cute, bright, her eyes hopeful and trusting. I lost my will. She pressed into me, walking me back to the couch.

"What else is there to say?" I sat down. "I'm just saying you can get laid at school, get a degree, get your Dad to foot the bill. It seems like win-win to me. But if you don't want to go no one's going to force you."

"I think you could. I mean, I could almost do it for you."

I laughed.

"I want to show you something."

"Go on," I said.

"Remember when I showed you my tattoo?"

"I think so."

"My Dad still doesn't know about it. I wanted you to see it though."

"I'm honored."

"Now you should be even more honored." She pulled up the hem of her dress, reached her hands up inside and starting pulling down her panties. When they were down around her ankles, she stepped gingerly in her high heels to work her way out of them. She looked very much like that tease of an 18-year-old she was back at my Dad's wake when she and her hot, bare tit held me captive in the basement.

"Hey, wait a minute," I said, "We're in public."

"No one's going to come. It'll only take a second."

"You know, I don't think --"

"Don't I turn you on?"

"You're my niece for God's sake."

"Not really. I mean, just a step-niece. You said it yourself. And anyway, that's why I can show you anything. I like you. And you're close enough to family."

"Oh, great --"

She turned to face the door, bent over, in a ninety degree angle, spread her legs a little and began to lift her hem upwards along her thighs. I flashed on Carey and then I shuddered. Even though I'd just met him; though my Dad adopted him before I was born, he was still a sort of brother. And this was his daughter whose rising skirt was about to reveal what no uncle should be looking at. But I couldn't look away. And if I didn't stop her, I'd be committing the worst sort of betrayal.

[To be continued...]