Pumping my niece full of cum

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Bob Peters leaned back in the old steel double wide lawn chair, circa 1952 and watched as Chrissy took care of old Mrs. Johnson’s needs. Chrissy greeted Mrs. Johnson, started the gas pump and then checked under the hood before beginning to wash and dry all the windows of the Cadillac. Bob was glad he had hired Chrissy. He’d always been glad.

Had anyone asked him, he’d gladly have admitted that when he first hired her it was mostly for her looks. She was a babe. Eighteen, fresh, pretty, vivacious, with high round teenage breasts and hips to kill for, her blond pony tail bobbed and waved as she went over the car. When she reached to get a spot in the middle of the windshield, one leg came off the ground and Bob had a nice view of the crotch of her cut offs and the white panties she was wearing under them. Chrissy usually wore a T shirt to work at the gas station, but today she was wearing a halter top and Bob had been half stiff since she reported for work. It was Friday and they stayed open an hour longer on Fridays.

The other reason he’d hired her was because she was his brother’s daughter. He’d watched her grow up and now that she was almost a woman he really enjoyed being around her. She adored him and in any situation other than at work she’d have run up to him and thrown her arms around him, pressing her tight little body against him and giving him a sloppy kiss on the lips. They’d been buddies for years.

He’d never have thought even one time about forcing her to do anything sexual, but she’d been good for beat off fantasies for more than a couple of years now, and she was getting better and better all the time. She’d just started going out on dates and the thought of what those boys she went out with were probably doing to and with her made Bob’s dick hard most of the time.

Mrs. Johnson paid Chrissy and they both waved at each other as the Caddy rolled out of the station. Chrissy put the money in the till and then came over and flopped down in a rusty chair almost exactly like the one Bob was sitting in. As she flopped down her legs spread and the almost non-existent denim between her legs was framed in white cotton of the panties under it. Bob stared and Chrissy caught him.

“Uncle Bob!” she squealed. “What are you looking at?” She knew what he was looking at, but wanted to give him a hard time.

“A little piece of dreamland, Chrissy. A little piece of dreamland.” he laughed.

Chrissy closed her legs, but not completely. It made her feel special when her Uncle looked at her as a woman. She’d been flattered by his attention for years and he’d always been a perfect gentleman. It was nice to be looked at as a woman without having to worry about whether or not you were going to have to kick the guy in the balls to keep him in line. “You’re just a dirty old man” she grinned.

“I’m not that old” he complained. “And besides, what was I supposed to do when you flashed your pussy at me?” He stopped cold. Had he actually used the word “pussy” in front of his niece. He looked at her, shocked that he’d lost control of his mouth and saw that she was astounded too.

“Oh shit, Chrissy, I’m sorry,” he groaned. “My mouth ran away with my tongue. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry.” He was glowing red now as he blushed to his neck.

Chrissy couldn’t believe her Uncle had used that word. That was a word the boys at school used and sometimes her friends said it too, but it was a word she’d never heard any adult use. He thought of her as having a … pussy.

She was surprised to feel a tingle in that part of her body and then she felt herself blush too. It kind of turned her on to think that her Uncle thought of her as a sexual being. She reached over and kissed him firmly on his cheek.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I shouldn’t be flashing my … my pussy at you. I don’t want to give you a heart attack.” Then she kissed him again and turned around to give him time to get himself in order. She fiddled with a display of windshield wipers.

The next day, when it was time for Chrissy to go to work, she decided to wear a short denim skirt. She chose a pair of lavender panties to wear under them. When she got to work she hugged Bob, pressing her body against his. She was extra vigilant to get every windshield that day, and bent over each hood, knowing that her purple panties could be seen if Bob was watching.

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George B. J. Martin

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