My niece Katie showed up unannounced at my door one day last summer (2010); she was sixteen.  She had had a fight with her mother, had thrown some things into a duffel bag and walked out the door; she went to the Greyhound station and spent almost all her money on a bus ticket to the city where I live. 

She said she had nowhere else to go.  She knew her friends' parents wouldn't let her stay at any of their places.  She didn't want to go home, and begged me to let her stay.  I insisted that her mother had to know where she was.  I called Katie's mom (my older sister) and talked to her (Katie refused to talk); eventually, her mom and I agreed that Katie could stay with me for a few days until she calmed down, then I'd put her on a bus and send her home.

I'd always gotten along well with Katie; she always said I was her favorite uncle.  I knew that having her stay with me would be a little awkward; I have a one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment, not a lot of room or much privacy for two people.  But I gave Katie my bedroom and said I would sleep in the living room on the sofa.  Things were fine the first couple of days she was here; we walked around town, I showed her the university campus, we went to a movie together...I was acutely aware, both at home and when we went out, that my niece was extremely pretty and in the full bloom of youth--becoming a woman, that is, and showing all the signs of becoming a heartbreaker, too.  Her smile, the way she tossed her long dark hair back, her body language: she was, probably without knowing it, naturally flirtatious, and even though she was my niece (and 16), I couldn't help but respond.  Now and then she would touch me lightly on the arm; now and then she would kiss me on the cheek.  She dressed the way girls her age dressed, in a way that was--from a much older man's point of view--provocative: tank tops and halters, skimpy shorts and skirts, tight jeans.  She didn't wear make-up but didn't need any; she was beautiful without it.  Every night she was there, I would toss and turn on the sofa, trying to sleep, trying not to think about Katie lying in my bed, trying not to wonder what (if anything) she was wearing.  We'd done a little shopping after she arrrived, since she hadn't brought many clothes with her; but I didn't know that she'd bought any sort of nightgown or pajamas...

We had agreed that she'd go back home on Sunday; she didn't want to, and kept dropping hints about staying longer or even about moving in with me.  She told me her mom didn't really want her around, and she also said that some of her mom's boyfriends made her feel uncomfortable--"It's just creepy, Uncle Jack, the way they look at me sometimes, and mom doesn't even notice, and if I say anything to her, she just tells me I'm being silly.  I just don't like living there with her bringing all these guys around..."  I knew that what Katie was saying had some merit; I knew my older sister and her bad judgment when it came to men (including Katie's dad, who was in prison downstate).  I couldn't stand the thought of those men being around Katie...but there was no way I could let her move in with me, either.

On Saturday, the day before Katie was leaving, we went to the local mall.  I'd promised to take her out that night to a nice restaurant, and she didn't have anything suitable to wear, so I told her I'd buy her a nice outfit (I would let her pick it out, of course).  We walked around, window shopped a while, stopped for lunch, and then Katie got serious about finding a dress.  She picked out a simple, short black cocktail dress; it wasn't anything daring, but still, I knew that, especially on a 16 year-old, it was going to look seriously sexy, and I knew that Katie's mom wouldn't approve.  But she insisted it was what she wanted, so I bought it for her.  And then she had to have shoes to match...and then she wanted black stockings...and then she wanted a black bra and black bikini panties.  For those last purchases, I just gave her the cash and told her to go pick out what she needed, and I waited back at the food court; I wasn't about to hang out in Victoria's Secret with my teenage niece while she bought underwear. 

We went to dinner, as I'd promised, at an expensive restaurant; Katie looked unbelievably hot in her black dress, and I had to work hard not to stare at her over dinner--the dress was cut in a v-neck, and she would lean forward just a bit, and I wanted so badly to see her breasts...She teased me to let her share some of my wine, which I eventually did.  At one point, Katie got up to go to the ladies' room, and I watched her walk away from the table; every guy in the room watched her, too.  She looked 16 going on 25, or 19 going on 15--that indeterminate beauty that girls get at that age, where they could be much older or much younger than you think, but all you know is, you'd love to fuck them.  I watched my niece Katie and couldn't help thinking, If she wasn't my niece, I'd want to fuck her.  After dinner, we drove straight home; Katie relaxed in the passenger seat beside me, oblivious to the way her short black dress crept higher, exposing her stockinged legs...I couldn't help glancing over at her legs, and when I did, she smiled at me. 

As soon as we got inside my apartment, Katie threw her arms around me and hugged.  "Uncle Jack, that was such a nice dinner!" She stepped away from me--"And I felt so grownup there, wearing this dress, and being with you, and sipping some wine..." she waited a moment for my response; I had no idea what to say, so she continued, "Don't you think I look grownup in this dress, Uncle Jack?"  She did a little spin, modeling for my benefit, and then laughed--at the expression on my face, I guess.  I managed to say, "You look lovely, Katie," and then she turned to go into the bedroom.  I had just gotten to the living room when she called, "Uncle Jack, could you come here?"  I went back to the bedroom to see what she wanted.  She was standing with her back to me, her dress open halfway down her back; I could see the strap of her bra across her back.  "The zipper's stuck," she said, without turning around. "Can you get it for me?  I don't want to ruin the dress."  I stepped closer and saw that she was right, the zipper in back had snagged on the fabric.  It took a minute for me to coax it loose with my unsteady fingers, but it came loose and I slid it lower just enough to make it sure it wouldn't snag again.  I stepped back, but before I could go, Katie in an instant reached behind her, finished lowering the zipper, and shrugged the dress off.  It fell to her feet and she stepped out of it, her back still turned toward me, and then she turned to face me.  "Thank you, Uncle Jack," she whispered, and came close to hug me again--black bra, black panties, black stockings, nothing else.  She put her arms around me and pressed her half-naked body against me.  I could feel her breath against my throat.  I could feel my cock stiffening inside my pants.  I managed to disengage myself from her and step away.  "I'm...I'm going to go turn on TV," I stuttered.  Katie smiled.  "I'll come in as soon as I change," she said.  I fled to the safety of the living room...

I heard Katie stop in the kitchen before joining me in the living room.  When she came in, I was sitting on the sofa.  She was carrying two bottles of beer--"Is it okay if I have a beer with you?" she asked.  I didn't reply, because I was stunned by what she was wearing--and how little she was wearing.  She had put on a black tank top (it had a white rose embroidered on it); she had left on the black bikini panties and the black stockings.  I couldn't believe how casually she stood there in front of me; I could see her nipples pressing against the tank top, I could see the outline of her pussy against the skimpy black panties.  I took the beer from her and watched as she walked across the room (I couldn't help staring at her ass) and turned off the TV, then came back and stood for a moment in front of me,as if posing, before sitting next to me on the sofa.  "Uncle Jack," she said, taking one finger and teasingly stroking my arm, "I think we should talk about tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," I managed to say, "Tomorrow you'll be going back to your mom's."

"That's the thing," said Katie, moving even closer to me, her leg now touching mine; "I don't want to go back.  I want to stay here with you."

(to be continued)