Two

My Uncle was checking me out.

It felt weird. Actually, no. It felt weird that it didn't feel weird. It felt nice. If he weren't married to my Aunt, and he was just some random guy at a party checking me out, I'd be totally into it.

I was totally into it now.

I wondered how long he'd been staring at my legs. If he was still looking now. If he had been checking out any other part of me while I was busy thinking up things to say.

What happened next I attribute mostly to a sudden flash of naughtiness, and also because I had been thinking of doing something really bad to Rita and for some reason, this opportunity fell on my lap, so to speak.

I dropped my fork.

When I bent over to pick it up (slowly), I was fully aware of the hem of my short skirt rising up to just below my butt.

Oliver caught his breath.

Inwardly, I smirked. I had him.

I straightened up, looked him in the eye and and said, "Oops."

He swallowed. Hard.

I gave my fork to a passing catering staff, who gave me a fresh one. It was time to finish my lovely cake.

Slowly, I forked bits of mousse into my mouth, taking great care to lick the tines of my fork each time. I ran my tongue over my lips much, much more than I needed to.

In the corner of my eye, I could see Oliver just standing there, motionless. Watching me.

I could hear his heavy breathing.

Great. Now what?

At that moment, Aunt Rita finally looked up from chatting with her group of fawning minions to notice her husband was standing on a corner next to her niece. "Oliver, darling," she called out. "Come say hi to my friends."

I glanced at him, and gave him a little smile. He nodded at me before going over to sit with Aunt Rita.

Mom came over with a glass of soda for me. "Are you having fun, dear?" she asked.

"Mom, this is Aunt Rita's best party yet," I said. "I'm so glad we came."

"That's great, sweetie. Did you say hi to your Uncle Oliver?"

"Oh yes, Mom. We had a lovely chat."

I spent the next few minutes trying to figure out what my game plan was.

Seducing my Uncle Oliver wasn't something I'd actually thought about. Sure, I had fantasized him a few time. Okay, I'd fantasized about him a lot. But I'd never really thought I'd do anything close to what I'd just done a while back. And now I was dying to know if there was any way in hell I'd actually pull off what was basically the most terrible thing a niece could do to her aunt.

An aunt who hated her. A really vile human being who humiliated her and her mother any chance she got.

I made my decision.

I went over to my Mom, who was talking to a young couple on the other side of the room. As I walked over, I swear I could feel Oliver's eyes on me. So I glanced his way. He was sitting next to Aunt Rita, not paying any attention to the conversation around him.

Our eyes met.

I held his gaze for a while. I had to make sure he knew what I was knew. What I was thinking.

Then I looked away, a secret smile playing on my lips.

"Mom, do you mind if I stay in the den for a bit?" I asked. "Jenny was home sick today, I promised her I'd go over today's Physics lecture with her over Skype."

"Of course, dear. Did you leave your backpack in the den?"

I nodded. "We're not leaving anytime soon, are we?"

"Maybe in a couple of hours," she said. "Around ten, maybe?"

"I'll be back in an hour."

I made sure I walked past Oliver again on my way to the hall. I glanced at him briefly and found him looking at me again.

When I got to the door that went out into the hallway, I paused and glanced back at him again. Our eyes met, and I held his gaze for several seconds before I turned and left.

I hadn't spent that much time in my Aunt Rita's house, for obvious reasons. It was a large house, with around ten bedrooms. I didn't know my way around so well, but I did remember that there was a library on the second floor. Whenever I couldn't stand being around my Aunt, I'd go there to hide. I liked books, so I was never bored there. It was my sanctuary.

I was going there now.

As I was halfway up the grand staircase, I looked down to see if Oliver had gotten the hint.

He was at the base of the stairs looking up at me.

I could feel, rather than see Oliver following me the rest of the way to the library. He kept his distance, keeping a good ten feet between us. It was a long walk to the library, as it was at the very end of the hallway.

I was half afraid he could hear my heartbeat hammering through my chest. At first I thought I was simply nervous, then I realized that wasn't why my pulse was racing.

I was excited.

I'd never been more excited in my whole life.

I should have been afraid. Or scared. But I wasn't, not one bit. I knew I wanted to do this. I desperately wanted to do this.

When I opened the library door, I felt like I was opening a Christmas present. I went inside and shut the door.

A minute after, Oliver came.

I was sitting on top of a desk that was facing the door, watching him as he came inside.

He didn't say a word as he closed the door.

I heard a lock click.

"What are you doing here, Kaylie?" he asked.

"I got bored," I said.

He didn't make a move towards me.

"What about you?" I asked him.

"I came to see what you were up to. Do you mind that I followed you?"

"Well, it's you're house," I said. "You can do whatever you want." I put as much meaning as I could in those last words.

You can do whatever you want.

Oliver began to fiddle with his cufflinks. "I suppose you're right," he said, not looking at me. "You know, Kaylie, that desk isn't for sitting."

"I'm sorry. Will you help me down, Uncle Oliver?"

He looked up from his cufflinks in time to see me spread my legs apart, and rest my hands on the table, between my thighs.

He walked toward me slowly. As I expected, he seemed nervous, but the way he was breathing heavily told me he was excited too.

As I was.

Oliver laid his hands gently on my thighs, pushing up my skirt a little.

"Do you always show such little respect for furniture, Kaylie?" he asked, his voice thick. His hands started moving slowly up and down my thighs.

God his hands felt so good. They were big and strong, and I could feel their strength and power as he stroked my thighs. "Sometimes," I said, trying to keep my voice from trembling the unbearable need I was feeling. "Is it so wrong?"

Oliver moved his mouth close to my ear. "Yes," he whispered. "So wrong. Very wrong." His hands had moved higher up my thighs. I could feel his thumbs slip under my panties with every upward stroke.

I lifted my hands to give him more room to touch me. I put my arms behind me, my hands resting on the desk for support.

"Will you punish me, Uncle Olie?" I asked, breathing heavily. I wanted to beg him to touch me ... more. I wanted his fingers deeper inside my panties.

"Stop it. Stop making me ... do this."

For a brief moment, I almost pitied the poor man. Very few men could refuse the young, nubile flesh I was offering up to him.

But I was so horny, I couldn't have stopped even if I wanted to.

______________

Please vote for this story if you like it! I'll post the next part very soon. Thank you. - Iliada T.