So Old and So Young (a mini fantasy)
Even though you are of legal age, I still consider you my young, innocent niece. Your body is just now showing adult curves and mature development. Your blue eyes display angelic innocence, as they fail in their attempt to hide behind your long flowing dark hair. Your perfect smile reveals braces that lend themselves to suggest you are younger than your actual age. But your mind and your conversation betray you.
It is 2:30 AM, and I am delighted by our previous hour's long spontaneous chat. I sense a definite bond between us. It is quiet in the living room and everyone else has long since retired for the night.
Boldly, I place my hand gently on your knee. You don't flinch, nor do you pull away. You cast your eyes downward in silence. Beads of sweat suddenly form on my forehead and upper lip. I struggle inwardly, not sure what to do next.
Without warning, you lie back on the couch, but you show no other sign of encouragement. I look down at your slightly parted robe. Is this an invitation? A gesture of surrender? How can I be sure? I am desperate to read the answer in your eyes, but they offer nothing.
My next move could be richly rewarded, or it could be a complete disaster. But, I am nothing if not a risk taker.
Life is short, after all: I slowly slide my hand several inches up your thigh and then stop. Several seconds elapse with no response. I look up, but you have cruelly placed your arm across your eyes. I am frustrated, and not a little nervous; perhaps scared is a more accurate word.
And then your legs open, however slightly, almost imperceptibly. But I perceive. I run my hand the rest of the way up your leg until I reach Land's End. Two fingers slip beyond the hem of your panties, and easily disappear into your soaking wet sex.
It is 2:30 AM, and I am delighted by our previous hour's long spontaneous chat. I sense a definite bond between us. It is quiet in the living room and everyone else has long since retired for the night.
Boldly, I place my hand gently on your knee. You don't flinch, nor do you pull away. You cast your eyes downward in silence. Beads of sweat suddenly form on my forehead and upper lip. I struggle inwardly, not sure what to do next.
Without warning, you lie back on the couch, but you show no other sign of encouragement. I look down at your slightly parted robe. Is this an invitation? A gesture of surrender? How can I be sure? I am desperate to read the answer in your eyes, but they offer nothing.
My next move could be richly rewarded, or it could be a complete disaster. But, I am nothing if not a risk taker.
Life is short, after all: I slowly slide my hand several inches up your thigh and then stop. Several seconds elapse with no response. I look up, but you have cruelly placed your arm across your eyes. I am frustrated, and not a little nervous; perhaps scared is a more accurate word.
And then your legs open, however slightly, almost imperceptibly. But I perceive. I run my hand the rest of the way up your leg until I reach Land's End. Two fingers slip beyond the hem of your panties, and easily disappear into your soaking wet sex.
10 years ago
please continue 
