"Lynn_s Naughty Uncle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jackson Mark)

OH, BROTHER, GIRL!

She whirled around, watching the skirt fly outward, upward.

And no underpants!

She leaped forward onto her hands and knees on the bed. It squeaked loudly. She rocked her body back and forth, blushing and grinning at the sound the bed made.

Then she rolled over onto her back, intending to give her swollen nipples a few seconds to calm down to a trifle less obvious size, but she rolled too hard and too far, and fell of f the bed, landed with a loud thud on the hard wood floor.

"My gosh," she said to the leg of the chair, "I'd better get downstairs before I kill myself!"

Quickly, she got up off the floor, steadied herself, made final adjustments of her clothing, and ran her palms very, very lightly over the front of her taut thin blouse. Those beautiful, huge, suckable nipples of hers, those mouth-filling, mouth-watering nipples, responded instantly!

God! Lynn thought, I muse be ready for something, all right!

She stepped to her bedroom door and opened it. She took a deep breath, stepped out into the hallway, pulled the door closed behind her.

She felt very hot. Sweaty. Yet her skin, her lovely, unblemished skin, was dry and cool.

She started down the hall.

She felt invisible strings of pleasure tightening around her protruding pulsing nipples, and they seemed to be pulling her bodily toward the cellar door.

She opened it and stepped down.

Now she was becoming aware, it seemed to her, of every single atom that made up her body.

Downward she stepped, down through that long dark tunnel of the stairwell. Her breath was coming now in ragged gasps, and she was sure she was drenched with sweat. She touched her forehead. She was slightly moist, slightly frightened by the enormity of what she was about to do.

On the last step she paused and sighed one last deep sigh, closed her lovely dark blue eyes. A last moment of hesitation. Young and virgin, a fleeting blush of terror swept over her body. She tensed, shivered. But the shiver found its focus in the very tips of her burning nipples, and the invisible strings gave a final yank and pulled her off the step.

She turned the corner into the blinding light of her uncle's bank of floodlights.

Her eyes flooded with tears. She turned away from the glare and the intense heat.

It took her a few seconds to got used to the brightness. She was thankful for the heat of the lamps, because now her sweating would seem normal to her uncle.

She thought she heard a muffled "My God!" but she wasn't sure. Her eyes had adjusted to the light, and she turned to face them.

"Okay, Uncle Wes," Lynn said calmly. "How's this?"

The lack of quivering in her voice surprised her. She felt weak and totally out of control of her own body.

She heard something else from Wes, but it was cut off. She moved a few steps into the center of the large, mostly empty room, where the tights were focused, and flung her arms wide, straight out from her shoulders, and turned slowly for her uncle's approval.

He gasped as he saw clearly the bare flesh between the bottom of her skirt and the top of her stockings.

"Well? How is this?"

"It's… it's just… fine he stammered finally. Lynn was happy to find that her uncle seemed to be a little out of control himself!

She dropped her arms to her side.

Inside, she was trembling violently, almost shuddering with excitement. Outside, she appeared very cool and collected, almost casual in her brazen outfit and her suggestive posing.

She suddenly realized her hips were thrust forward.

She straightened herself, became a bit more properly feminine.

"Well, let's get this over with, huh?"

She mashed her fists into her hips, taking the same pose now that she had taken when her uncle had first suggested this photo session to her.

Wes stepped from behind the bright lights. He was trying to look busy and unconcerned with his camera, but the bulge in his crotch wasn't a light meter, of that Lynn was sure!

"How do you want me?" she asked innocently.

On your back and spread! Wes screamed in his mind, but to his young niece he said quietly, "Oh, why don't you just stand there nice and tall and I'll snap a few of you just like that?"

Lynn shrugged. "Okay."

She pulled her shoulders back a little, keeping her eyes on Wes. She was pleased with his response.

"Something wrong, Wes?" she asked, her eyes wide, a look of pure innocence upon her lovely face.

He fiddled with the settings on the camera.

"No, Lynn. Not yet, anyway." He lifted his eyes to the bulging front of her blouse.

"I see you're not wearing a bra," he said.

Lynn looked down at her chest.

"Oh? Do you want me to run up and put one on?"

"Uh, no," Wes said quickly, "no, no, that's all right."

Lynn cocked her pretty head and stroked a single strand of hair behind her ear. She smiled at Wes.

"Damn, Lynn, you're… "

She let him fumble with it for a second.

"I'm what, Uncle Wes?"

He wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life."

She was startled, yet knew she shouldn't have been. Wes was an old hand at flattery. Lynn had heard him use it to good effect on most of the ladies in the neighborhood, including nasty Mrs. Piggot, across the street. He could sweet talk any living female. But Lynn had never heard him say anything so direct in such simple words.

Did he mean it?

Was she the prettiest girl he'd ever seen?

The thought was pleasant, and coupled with her desires and confusions and youth, it made Lynn very happy, and even more willing to let her uncle have his way, if only in how he took the pictures.

But the light was becoming unbearably bright for her eyes, and the heat was causing them both to begin sweating a little.

"Let's try one of those famous detective magazine covers again, shall we, Lynn, honey?"

He turned away from her, stepped back behind the bank of floodlights.

Lynn stood alone, squinting into the brightness.

She sucked on her lips for a moment.

"Wes?"

"Yes, honey?"

"You mean like we did last time?"

"That's right, sweetheart."

She raised her hand to cover her eyes.

"Tied up?"

"Yes."

She held her pose, then slowly lowered her hand. She saw the darker shape of her uncle behind the lights. She couldn't make out what he was doing.

She felt the sweat breaking out on her face and neck. She felt completely drenched. The blouse had already begun to cling wetly to her bare boobs, and trickles of salty water ran down between her breasts, and down her thighs.

Suddenly, Wes stepped back into the light. He was carrying several lengths of clothesline, and something that Lynn didn't recognize.

She frowned.

"What's that?"

She wiped her forearm across her forehead.

Wes held the object up so his niece could see it plainly. It was a rubber ball, with a piece of rope running through the middle.

She glanced at his eyes and shrugged her ignorance.

"Ready?" he asked her.

"I don't know, Wes. What is that thing?"

"We need it for the pictures, honey bunch."

Lynn snapped her hands onto her hips, pursed her lips tightly, and cocked her head at Wes.

"I asked you what it was."

"It's a gag."

She stared at the thing.

"Huh?"

"Don't worry, sweetheart, it won't hurt."

He stepped toward her.

"Wait a minute!"

But he lifted the ball toward her mouth.

"Open up, honey, it won't hurt."

"No!"

"Honey… " Wes coaxed.

"Wes… " Lynn whined.

"Open… "

The youngster's mouth opened a little wider.

"No… " she said quietly.

She put her hands around his wrists.

"Wider, honey…

Slowly, grasping her uncle's wrists tightly, the teenager opened her mouth wide enough to let Wes slip the rubber ball between her lovely white teeth.

She moaned.

"Good girl, sweetheart."

He took her hands from his wrists and pressured them down to her sides, then took her upper arms and turned her around. He pulled the ends of the rope that ran through the ball around behind her neck, and after lifting her hair out of the way, he tied the gag in place. Her long hair fell back down over the knot at the back of her neck.

"Now, give me your hands back here, Lynn."

Lynn put her arms behind her, automatically crossing her thin wrists. She had seen enough movies to know how women were supposed to be tied up.

She felt the clothesline wrapped firmly around her wrists, pulled tight and knotted. It was a bit too tight, but this wouldn't last too long. She hoped.

The rubber gag tasted awful, and her jaws were already beginning to ache from the strain of being forced so wide open. She felt a thick line of drool slip down her chin and drop onto the upper slope of her bulging boob.

She closed her eyes in embarrassment, but Wes had turned her back toward the lights as it happened, and he said, "Perfect. A little drooling adds realism, and it's utter realism I'm after. Good girl." He bent forward and gave her a lingering little kiss on her cheek. It sent a pounding thrill of pleasure through her body, and she leaned toward him, pressing her nipples against his chest.

"Well, well," Wes said in a voice that made the girl open her eyes in alarm, "I guess you're ready, aren't you?"