I have been a writer all of my adult life, but finally I was able to produce a novel which sold big, and thus I was able to move into a beautiful penthouse apartment on the Upper West Side of New York City, a place where I had always wanted to live.
My brother Dan lived with his family about halfway out on Long Island. His family consisted of his wife Meg, a daughter, Andie, and a son, Andrew. Even when I lived in New Jersey, I used to visit them a couple of times a year and developed a nice relationship with Andie, who undoubtedly was the smartest one of the family. Now, Andie had graduated from high school and at the age of eighteen was enrolled as a drama major in New York University. She certainly had the right equipment to be a drama major: She was about five-seven with a slender figure and long dark curly hair. She looked amazingly like the young Katie Holmes—before she met Tom Cruise—and I’m sure was often mistaken for her.
I had suggested to Andie the last time I saw her that she give me a call sometime after she got established at college, and I would take her out to a play and a late dinner afterward. But I didn’t know this would happen so soon. She was only at college for two weeks when she called me.
“Uncle Wayne?” she said over the phone, “Is that invitation to visit you and spend the weekend at your apartment still good?”
“I don’t remember about the weekend at the apartment, but sure, it’s still good. I’m not doing anything this weekend. Do you want me to see if I can get tickets to a play or musical?”
“That would be great.”
So, pulling a few strings, I was able to get a pair of tickets to the new version of Sweeney Todd. Andie knocked on my door around four in the afternoon.
“Hi!” she said. “I’m here.” She was carrying an overnight bag.
We spent the rest of the afternoon just sitting around drinking wine and talking about my work and about her school. A little after five, she took a rest, a shower, and came out ready for the theatre wearing a lowcut black velvet dress and dark stockings. She looked stunning. I had always remembered her as a “little kid”, so this was quite a revelation.
“You look beautiful,” I said.
The musical was a good choice, very entertaining, and after it, we took a cab over to the Tavern on the Green for a late light dinner of cold seafood and chardonnay. By the time we were ready to leave, I could see that she was quite “jolly” from the wine.
The only problem was: It was pouring rain outside, and the New York axiom is: You can’t get a cab when it’s raining. We waited about twenty minutes, but it was no use.
“It’s only six blocks,” I said. “You want to walk it?”
“You’ll get soaked.”
“I don’t mind.” She took off her shoes and held them up in her hand by the straps. “See?”
So we walked the six blocks back to my apartment, and I was right: We were both soaked when we entered. But she was laughing and enjoying herself thoroughly.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have a lady’s dress around here to offer you,” I said. “But there is a terrycloth robe in the bathroom you can put on, and I’ll make you a hot toddy if you want.”
“Let me go to the bathroom first. Men take less time than women, and then I’ll be able to get your hot toddy ready.”
I grabbed my blue velour robe from the bedroom, went into the bathroom, doffed my wet clothes, took a quick hot shower, and put on the robe.
“Also, I have a small washer and dryer,” I said as I emerged. “So if you give me your wet clothes, I’ll be able to dry them for you.”
“But you said something about wanting to spend the night, didn’t you?”
“That’s fine with me, but I only have the one bed. You can sleep on the couch if you want.”
“Okay,” she said, as she walked over to the bathroom in her wet clothes.
She emerged a little while later in the white terrycloth robe and looking squeaky clean. “I left my wet clothes in the bathroom,” she said.
“That’s okay. I’ll dry them later.” I handed her the hot toddy made of rum, hot water and spices, and we both sat at opposite ends of the couch. Across from us was the large penthouse window looking out over the city and the nearby apartments.
“Thish is good,” she said, sipping it. I could tell that she was already a little tipsy.
“It will warm you up.”
She drew her legs up, not realizing that she was affording me a beautiful view of her lovely thighs plus the little tuft of brunette hair and the two lips between them.
“Did I ever tell you that I had a crush on you when I was young?” she asked.
“No, but you’re still young now.”
“When I was fifteen. I thought you represented everything I wanted to be: dashing, adventurous, daring.”
I smiled. “How nice.”
“I actually used to lie in my bed at night, think about you, and masturbate.”
“Really?” Now I was getting interested.
I began to think that the positioning of her legs was not accidental; that she knew what she was doing. So I decided to risk it. “….Would you do that now?” I asked.
“Masturbate in front of me? I’ve never seen a woman masturbate.”
She though about it for a minute and took another sip. “Can anyone see us?” she asked.
“Probably. This is New York. Everyone spies on everyone. As long as what you’re doing does not appear to be a crime, no one cares.”
She looked over at the window. “How nice.” Then she took another sip, put her glass on the table and parted her robe at the waist. Now I could get a good view of her furry little muffin and the tender lips at the bottom of her tuft.
“You’re beautiful,” I said.
“This is like a sexual fantasy come true,” she said, as she slipped her fingers into her maidenhair on their way to her clitoris. “But you have to do it too.”
“Masturbate. For me.”
“Okay.” I parted my robe and took my already turgid member in hand.
“Wow,” she said.
“You’re responsible for that.”
“I’m flattered. But since you’re my uncle, and I’m your niece, we can’t have sex. It would be sort of like incest.”
“No, we can’t have sex. But I could fuck you. That’s allowed.”
“Oh yes, it’s New York law.”
“Mmmmmm,” she closed her eyes and caressed what I guessed was her clitoris with her finger—until she came in a shuddering climax. “Oh God,” she gasped.
“That was beautiful,” I said, “I’ve never seen anything like that before.
“Now you,” she said, lifting her glass again.
“Actually, I have other plans.” I closed my robe, stood up and walked over to her. I held out my hand. She closed and tied her robe and took my hand. I led her over to the large window facing the Hudson River and the apartment buildings near us. I stood behind her and embraced her.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Everyone in New York is an exhibitionist, and everyone is a voyeur,” I said. “Most of them have telescopes or binoculars in their living rooms. But seldom do they get to see an exhibitionist as lovely as you, so we should give them a treat.” I reached around her and unfastened the belt. Then I took the collars of her robe, pulled it from her shoulders and let it drop. Now she was completely naked and in plain view.
“Now what do we do?” she asked softly.
“We do this.” I unfastened my robe and turned her to me. She only weighed about a 110 pounds, so it was easy to put my hands under her thighs and lift her up until her legs were straddling my waist. I positioned her in the right place and guided my stiff cock into her moist pussy.
“Oh God,” she muttered.
“Are you going to come for me—in front of all these people?” I asked.
“Yes!” And she did. Right away. I could feel it. I had no choice but to grab her tight little ass and pump it back and forth until I had come in her as well.
“Oh God,” she said. “It’s a good thing I’m going to be staying here tonight. I don’t think I would be able to walk.”
“Instead of sleeping on the couch, do you want to sleep in my bed?”
“Besides, I don’t think we’re through yet, and there’s a whole new audience on that side of the apartment.”
I let her down.
“Then it’s SHOW-TIME!” she said, raising her hands above her deliciously naked little body and twirling. “Cum one, cum all!”
And she did…many times.