Date: Fri, 1 Aug 2003 15:11:37 -0700 (PDT) From: Andrea Jamal Subject: Niece and Nephew part 1 When I was 24, I hit a pretty rough patch in my life. In one week, I lost my job, and the girlfriend who I was in love with broke up with me. I wasn't making any progress on my novel, and I didn't know how I was going to make the rent. I felt like my world had fallen apart around me. My older sister and her husband lived in an old farmhouse in Ohio with their two children, Samirah and Khaled. There was plenty of space, they said, they were only using thee of the five bedrooms; and I was welcome to stay as long as I wanted and work on my writing. It didn't sound like a bad offer to me; and anyway I didn't have any better ideas. So I sublet my apartment, packed two bags of stuff plus my laptop, and boarded a bus for Dayton. I've always hated bus stations: the poverty, depression and ugliness were constantly lit under the glare of florescent lights. The bus ride was long and tedious. But I had two seats to myself and a good book; I felt better than I had felt in weeks. I felt like there might be a light at the end of the tunnel after all. I arrived in Dayton at 11 at night. My sister Fatima and her husband Bill were there to meet me. Fatima is 12 years older than me. Bill is 38 and I like him a lot. They both work for an architectural firm in Dayton. The drive out to their house took about an hour, and we passed the time by catching up. I hadn't seen them in over a year. They were careful not to ask too many questions about my recent past, and I was grateful for that. The fact that I was a lesbian was kind of an open secret in our family: nobody had ever voiced any problem about it, but everybody also preferred not to talk about it either. By the time we got home, it was after midnight, and I was stumbling with exhaustion. I barely had time to admire the rambling old house that they had bought, before I stumbled to bed to sink into blissful forgetfulness. I slept long and hard; better than I had slept since Sara told me that we were through. When I did wake up, it took me a moment to figure out where I was. The room was large and tidy and well lit, nothing like my studio in the city. My bags were by the door, and yesterdays clothes were on the floor where I had left them. I wondered what time it was. I savored a long, hot shower, and then went downstairs to see if anyone was around. It was only barely morning anymore. Samirah (or Sam as she told me she preferred to be called) and Khaled were home as it was Saturday, but Bill and Fatima had to work. I asked if this was unusual, and was told no, that they often had to work weekends. I made cereal and coffee and talked with the kids. I hadn't seen them since they were little, but now Sam was 17, and Khaled was 16. I liked them both a lot. Sam was the serious one: she got perfect grades and was already trying to decide where to go to college. She was very pretty, but didn't seem very interested in being girly. She was quiet and a little shy, but very intense when she talked. Khaled was funny and intelligent and outspoken. His grades weren't as good as his sisters', but they were still pretty good. He was an athlete, he ran varsity track and cross-country, and was on the swim team. When I asked if he had a girlfriend, he blushed and said no. They were both beautiful kids. Khaled had the lean body of a long distance runner, short hair, and piercing blue eyes. Sam had long black hair and delicious curves under her modest clothing. She had the same bright blue eyes as her brother. I gathered that neither one of them dated. Khaled, beneath his raucous exterior, was really shy; and Sam said she was too focused on academics for dating. They asked me if it was true that I was a lesbian. I told them that I was bisexual, but I had only been dating women for the last few years. My sisters' place was great. They had some 30 acres, but only farmed a small patch of vegetable garden. The house was huge and rambling, and in kind of a constant state of disrepair. It was badly in need of a new coat of paint, and some tlc from a good carpenter. It wasn't that Bill and Fatima didn't have the money to repair the place, it was just that they didn't have time to deal with it. They had bought it at auction three years ago, and except for replacing the roof, hadn't done any major work on the house. I felt really comfortable there. The days past quickly, and I actually got some writing done. If I couldn't write, or if I needed a change, I would wander around the property, or go bicycle riding, or just find somewhere to read a book. Some mornings I got up early and went for a run with Khaled, but he was just too fast for me, and I didn't like to hold him back. It was October, and the mornings were crisp and the days were starting to get shorter. I was happy. I could sometimes go all day without thinking about Sarah. One evening I was working on my book, typing into my laptop alone in my room. I was on a good run, and before I knew it, it was late. Something caught my eye. There was a glint of light showing through the wall that adjoined with Khaled's room. (My room was adjacent to Khaled's, and across the hall from Sam's.) Curious, I got up and checked it out. It turned out that there was a loose board near my closet, and through it I could see into the other room. I got down onto my knees, and peeked through to see what I could see. Khaled was naked on his bead, not four feet away from me. He had his cock in hand, gently stroking, and a magazine spread open in front of him. My pussy was suddenly soaked. Believe it or not, I had never seen a man masturbate before. It was a huge turn-on for me. Without removing my eye from the crack in the wall, I unzipped my jeans, and slipped a hand inside my panties. I stroked my clit as he massaged his cock. It was a nice looking cock too, not too big, but sizeable, with a swollen purple head. I wondered what it would be like to suck that cock. My pussy was flooded; my fingers were slick with my own juice. I couldn't quite see what it was he was jerking off to. I wondered what he was looking at. I guess I was sheltered, but I had never looked at porn myself. Khaled turned a page in the magazine and rolled over. Now I could see that he had a candle stuck in his asshole. I almost gasped out loud. I wanted to get my vibrator and stick it in my own ass; but I couldn't tear myself away from the peephole. Now Khaled was jerking off harder; I loved the intensity that he was stroking with. I heard him groan out loud as his back arched and he came. The come squirted almost up to his chin. I let the waves of my own orgasm roll over me, spasm after spasm of pleasure shaking my body. My jeans were wet; my panties were soaked. This was the first time I had masturbated since Sarah had left. Khaled cleaned up and turned out his light. I masturbated again that night, this time with my vibrator, thinking of the show that Khaled had given me. When I came again, it was with my vibrator buried in my asshole. I had never gotten off that way before, but my climax was shattering. It's not nice to snoop, but I couldn't help myself. The next day while the kids were in school, I sneaked into Khaled's room. In a box under the bed I found his stash. Along with the candlestick and some lotion, I found a stack of magazines. Careful to keep them in the same order that I had found them, I leafed through the well-thumbed pages. I found myself getting wet, looking at the explicit pictures of busty girls spreading their legs provocatively. I liked the raw sexuality of it, the crudeness. And there was another surprise: along with the girlie mags, there were a few copies of Playgirl. I thumbed through the pictorials, looking at the well-hung muscle boys within. So my nephew was bi too, or at least curious. I masturbated right there on his bed, then put the magazines back where I had found them. Now that I had discovered Khaleds' secret, I was curious about Sam. She seemed so serious and straight-laced that I wondered if she had even discovered masturbation. Then I remembered how straight I must have seemed when I was in high school; I hadn't even been allowed to date, and I had masturbated like a fiend. I wondered if there might be a way to peek into Sam's room at night. There was an empty bedroom next to Sam's room. That night, around twelve, I quietly left my room, telling myself I was only getting up to go to the bathroom. The light in Khaled's room was off; he was out of town that night on a cross-country meet. There was, however, a light showing under Sam's door. Holding my breath, as quietly as I could, I opened the door of the spare bedroom and tiptoed inside. Fortunately the room was quite empty, so there was no furniture to trip over. I left the light off. A little moonlight came in through the window, and my eyes quickly adjusted. Almost immediately I saw what I was looking for: a little light was shining through a hole in the wall about eye level. A picture must have hung there once, but now a pinhole connected the two rooms. Hardly daring to breath, I pressed my eye against the wall. I am sometimes embarrassed to admit it, but I love large breasts. My own aren't bad, but they aren't big either. Not that I am into gross, overstuffed silicone tits; I just want more than a mouthful. Sam had beautiful, big breasts. She was naked on her bed, and I had a prime view. I guess I was a little shocked: I had thought she was a good girl. But there she was, naked on her bed, leafing through a magazine. She was beautifully naked; she had fair skin and black hair between her legs and lovely full breasts. I could see that her nipples were erect, and, as she paged through the magazine, she tweaked her nipples now and then. I guessed she got to a picture she really liked; she got on her hands and knees as if to examine it closer, and let a hand slip between her legs. I was almost directly behind her. She had a beautiful, firm ass. I wished I could see better between those lovely cheeks. She got up, and walked out of my sight for a moment. I was suddenly afraid that she had become somehow aware of my hidden presence. Had I made some noise? My pajama bottoms were around my ankles, and I was slowly circling my clit. It would be pretty hard to explain if I was caught. Not to worry: she was back in my field of view in a second. She flopped down on her bed again with a new magazine and a big purple dildo. I was shocked: I hadn't discovered sex toys until that first lonely year after college. I wondered where she had got it. Now she was rubbing it up and down her slit as she looked at the pictures in the magazine. I wondered how she had gotten the porn as well; she didn't seem the type to buy them at the local gas station, and she was under age as well. I could see her wetness glistening on the latex toy. My knees felt weak. She couldn't have given me a better view if she had tried. Her legs were spread wide, and her dark-haired pussy winked at me. She had two fingers on her clit as she started to work the big toy up inside herself. I couldn't believe how hot she looked. She was pinching her nipples hard, her brow wrinkled in concentration. The magazine was now forgotten, her eyes shut tight as she buried her dildo in her pussy. She was fucking herself hard, sliding it in and out. I could see her wetness all over her thighs and the big purple toy. My own pussy was soaked. I wanted to come with her. I could tell she was close. Her stomach spasmed, and I let myself go, rubbing my clit as hard and fast as I could. She cried out as she came, little gasps, "Oh oh oh", with the dildo buried all the way up her pussy. I came and came, all over my fingers. Then she was done. She got up and put on her pajamas. Then she picked up the magazines and went out the door into the hall. I heard a second door open and shut. Aha! She had borrowed the magazines from her brother and was now putting them back. She came back into the room a minute later, and turned out the light. I stayed where I was for a long time, scared to move and maybe make a noise. At last I slipped back to my own bed, where I gave myself another orgasm before I went to sleep. The next day at dinner, I kept sneaking looks at my niece and nephew. They had no idea how sexy I thought they were, in my secret nights. Their parents had no idea; parents never do. I wondered if Khaled knew that his sister borrowed his porn. I wondered if Sam had figured out that Khaled liked a candle up his ass. I wondered if she fantasized about sticking that dildo of hers up his butt. I know I did! Before I knew it, my pussy was wet under my pussy, and my face felt flushed. I tried to think unsexy thoughts until after dinner. For the next week I got to watch one or the other of them get off. I only got to see Sam masturbate once more; I guessed she usually did it in the dark. Khaled masturbated with the lights on, usually to his porn. He almost always stuck a finger or candle up his asshole before he came. I wished I could fuck his asshole while he jacked off. I wondered if Sam liked anal stimulation too. One day, home by myself as usual, I decided to take a big chance. I didn't think that Khaled would go to his parents. So I got out my digital camera, and set it up to take pictures of myself while I masturbated. I took about a dozen pictures, but I didn't let myself come. Then I uploaded the pictures onto my laptop. It was weird to see these pictures of myself, so explicit, so pornographic. I felt suddenly self-conscious. Maybe I looked ridiculous, a 24 year old dyke jilling herself off. I shook the thought off and printed out the shot I liked best. In it, I had my legs spread wide, my vibrator halfway up my ass, and a finger on my clit. I keep my pussy shaved, and you could see every detail, down to the dewy wetness on my labia. I went into Khaled's room and slipped the picture into one of his magazines, in the middle of a spread featuring two girls that was near the top of the stack. No note or explanation. I would just have to wait and see what he did.