2006-06-10 - 12:47 p.m.
New fantasy. This one will probably have several chapters. More fun with incest fantasies. Remember, none of this actually happened.
When I was 13 I went to live with grandpa and my four uncles, on mom's side of the family. I never knew my dad, and god knows where mom went, but at least I had someplace to go.
They welcomed me so warmly. I felt really happy -- I'd been worried that they wouldn't want me there, that they wouldn't be nice to me, but they held doors open for me and pulled out my chair as though I were a lady. They said nice things to me, how pretty I was and how grown up I was getting. They were only my uncles and my nice old grandpa, but it still made me blush.
***
My first dinner is wonderful. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, sweet iced tea. Grandpa does the cooking, they tell me.
"Maybe I can help in the kitchen, now I'm here," I venture; "I know how to cook a little. I want to be useful." And I don't like housework, vacuuming and cleaning toilets. So I try to forestall that by volunteering for something else.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head about that," says Grandpa. "I enjoy cooking, and we'll find ways you can help around the house." Damn. I guess it will be the vacuum after all.
After dessert Uncle Henry says, "We've got a little surprise for you, Lauren." I look up, already surprised by the announcement of a surprise, and see all of them grinning. What's this...? They're all in on it, whatever it is.
"We hope you like it," says Uncle Al, who is kind of shy and speaks softly. I smile at him, and he blushes.
"You've been so nice to me already," I say because I know that's polite, and the least expected; but I am impatient too and can't help adding, "where is it?"
Uncle Henry pulls out my chair and gestures gallantly. Burning with curiosity I follow where I'm led, down the hall: Uncle Henry is leading the way and everyone else follows behind.
He opens the door at the end of the hall.
"This is your room, Lauren," says Grandpa, and I walk in, mouth open in amazement.
It's... it's... a fairy tale of a room. It's pink and frilly and fancy and cute, everything I would have yearned for a few years before when I still considered myself a little girl, not a teenager.
But I am only just a teenager after all, and I can't hurt their feelings, and my old friends from where I used to live are not here to curl their lips and act too old for all this. So I let myself be thrilled.
"I love it!" I squeal. "Is this really mine? Thank you!"
Unbelievable. There are dolls, music boxes, a shelf of teddy bears. It's as though they think I'm six years old.
The bed is unusually big, maybe, for a little girl's room, but it is all pink and lace like the rest, with a canopy and skirts that go all the way down to the pink carpeted floor.
And it has its own bathroom, too! Pink tile, and gold tone faucets on the sink and the tub. The vanity on the sink is pink marble, and it's huge, big as a table. Mirrors everywhere. I am speechless by now, there are so many things. My eyes are glazed with speechless greed, I can see it in the mirrors. My uncles elbow each other with glee as they see my dazed delight. Grandpa beams.
"We're so happy you're here, princess. Welcome to the family."
Wow. Princess! I just about explode with delight.
I take my bath in my very own bathroom. I get ready for bed, and Grandpa comes with a glass of milk and a cookie on a plate.
I want to protest that I've already brushed my teeth; but I don't want to hurt his feelings, and that cookie does look good. He smiles warmly as I nibble on it, then hands me the big glass of milk. I drink some, and try to hand it back.
Gently he shakes his head. "We don't waste even a drop of milk in this house, Lauren. Drink up." It's a reproof; he's not angry, but I get the hint right away that his rules are to be followed. And I want him to be happy with me.
"OK, Grandpa," I say, and drink it up. I don't like milk very much, but it does taste good after the cookie.
His smile is warm and sunny and he pats me on the top of the head. "That's my girl."
It makes me feel so warm inside. I haven't felt like I belonged anywhere, and he already calls me 'my girl'... I feel so warm... So warm...
"How are you feeling?"
I wonder why he's still here. I was almost asleep. Wasn't he tucking me in? But it's a warm, muddled sort of wondering, and the answers don't matter very much.
"Nice... Warm..."
Very warm. Warmer and warmer between my legs. I long for Grandpa to leave me alone for the night... so I can reach down and touch myself... so warm...
I drift into a fantasy of being touched. The soft bedclothes pulled down, my cotton nightie slid up... big, warm, callused hands, slightly trembling, drifting and roving over my little breasts.
"Such a pretty girl. Such a good baby girl for your grandpa."
One hand drifts down my belly. I'm ticklish, usually, but so relaxed and warm right now that it feels good. And then I am gasping because his hand has slid down over my panties and is stroking with a knowing touch. I arch my back, sighing. I open my legs.
"Good girl, Lauren. That's right. You're a good girl like your mommy was."
"Mmmm..."
I'm trying to talk but somehow I can't. He seems to understand me, though. His thumb is making hot circles through my thin panties, and it feels so good.
"Yes, baby girl, grandpa knows how to play with little girls, yes he does..."
Yes, he does. He's rubbing me through my panties and I'm going to come.
"Feel good, baby girl? Feel nice in your panties? Warm and tingly for your grandpa...?"
"unh -- unh -- unhh -- "
I come, harder than I have ever done by myself. I come so hard, back arching. I want to say grandpa but my mouth can only moan and gasp, ohhhhn...
"You're going to make all your uncles very happy."
Grandpa leads me to the bathroom and helps me sit up on the marble vanity. He tells me to lie back. The marble feels cold, but then he is pulling my panties off and I am hot with embarrassment at the many lights, the multiple reflections all around me, the way grandpa is looking between my legs, going 'tsk tsk'...
"Little girls should be nice and smooth, honey. Grandpa will help you."
I only have a little bit of hair between my legs.... soft and downy, but I nod obediently, too sleepy and warm to protest. I like him touching me, looking at me.
He runs warm water in the sink, opens the medicine cabinet and gets out a razor and some shaving lotion. Lathering up my vulva he slowly, patiently scrapes all the hairs away until I am smooth as silk, and he washes and dries me off again, patting my smooth little pussy with the towel till I purr, bumping up into it for more contact.
"That's a good little girl! Yes, and so smooth, that's right." He makes me look in the mirror and see it -- my girl parts, smooth and white and pink as though they were just made.
I look up at Grandpa. He says, "Let's fix your hair now, sweetie..." by which he means to put it up in pigtails on either side of my head. I haven't worn my hair this way since I was about ten. But I like the way Grandpa looks at me and talks to me. And I like being a special little girl.
He leads me back out into the bedroom. My panties are left behind in the bathroom; he pulls my nightie off over my head now and opens the pink and gilt wardrobe in the corner.
It is filled with little girl dresses and shoes, like a costume wardrobe. I can even see a little tiara up on a shelf, with pearls. And there are lots of nighties. Grandpa takes one out and pulls it on over my head. It is very short and flimsy and pretty. It does not cover my lack of panties, though.
"Back to bed now, sweetie," says grandpa, and I hold his hand across the room, let him settle me back into the bed. He does not pull the covers up over me this time.
"How do you feel, princess?" he says, and his hand is stroking my newly smooth flesh, very softly, making me warmer and warmer.
"Good, grandpa." So good. His hand cups my vulva and I moan a little.
"Ready for your uncles to come in and kiss you goodnight?"
"Yes, grandpa..."
He leaves me alone on the bed -- the lack of his stroking hand is almost painful, and I whimper -- and opens the bedroom door.
My uncles are all waiting outside. They come into the room, and their eyes are fixed on me, on my pigtailed hair, my little nightie and my naked pussy exposed. It does not occur to me to close my legs or pull the blankets over myself. Why would it? They all look so happy to see me.
TO BE CONTINUED