When I was growing up in the 50's in the midwest, nearly all my relatives lived within a single state, so get-togethers were pretty big things-both in importance and the number of people that showed up. As an only child, I wasn't real wild about attending them; at least not until after I started getting along better than normal with one of my cousins, Frederica.
It wasn't that we became an "item" or anything like that, just that we got along better with each other than we did anyone else, and enjoyed each other's company more. We got along well enough, in fact, that we eventually trusted each other with our respective deepest secrets, and even did more than a little necking with each other once both of us hit puberty… though we never went "all the way".
Our bond was strong enough that even after I went into the military, Freddie (as I called her, teasingly at first, then later as a term of affection) wrote to me regularly and faithfully while I was overseas. Even after I got out and went to collee to get a degree in engineering, we continued to correspond with each other.
In my sophomore year in college, she got married, but continued to write. She and her husband Mike even turned up for my graduation; it was the first time I actually got to meet him, and it turned out that he and I not only liked each other, but became good friends. So when my first job out of college was in the same town they lived in, all of us were pleased.
I found a place to live that was far enough from them to be in that ideal range that left it close enough for us to get together without any hassle, but far enough apart that we weren't in each other's back yards every day. One of the things that I learned was that Freddie and Mike were nudists or naturists; they tried to get me to understand that the two weren't the same, but it was a distinction without a difference as far as I was concerned. I even joined them a few times when they spent a weekend at a nearby recreation facility; when I explained to them that the lifestyle wasn't for me not because of the nakedness, but because of the limited recreation options within the nudist environs, they accepted it easily enough. One consequence of note was that when they had a daughter, Emma, I was able to be there often enough to dote on (but not spoil) her as she was growing up. Any time Freddie and Mike needed someone to look after Emma for longer than just a babysitting job, I was usually the first person they checked with. Only rarely did I have something going on that kept me from keeping Emma for whatever period of time was needed, and getting to stay with her Uncle Dave was something of a treat for her: I was perfectly willing to spend the majority of the time we had together doing what SHE wanted us to-from High Tea when she was little to letting her watch music television (within limits, anyway) when she got older. Once she got into school, all of us found out that she had that all-too-rare combination of ordinary "smarts" and intelligence. Once she hit puberty, I was even agreeable to letting one or two of her friends come over for a little while each day or evening.
From growing up in a nudist household and frequently spending a day or weekend with other nudists, Emma didn't think there was anything wrong with people not wearing clothing. When she was with me, it wasn't any big deal for her to shed clothing to whatever degree made her feel comfortable. She knew I wasn't interested in such things, and that was fine with her… I was Uncle Dave, so whatever I thought or did was perfectly okay with her; that she saw ME nude a few times wasn't any big deal since she saw all manner of unclothed males every time she went to a camp with her parents.
Because she didn't concern herself about such things, I could see the changes happening to her when she hit puberty. She went from a cute little raven-haired pixie with freckles on her nose to starting to develop curves that would undoubtedly have guys flocking around and making other girls envious (if not outright jealous). Being her uncle, all I felt was love for (and protective of) her; as a male, I couldn't help noticing (and appreciating, in an abstract way) her attractiveness and developing figure.
That dichotomy hit me squarely between the eyes one night when she was just a few months short of turning fifteen. She was spending the night with me so Freddie and Mike could attend some corporate gathering in a town a couple of hours away; they'd decided to make it a micro-vacation by spending the night there and returning the following day.
Emma and I had been sitting on the couch watching a movie; when it was over, Emma got up to dispose of our empty soda cans. When she came back into the living room, she stopped in front of me and asked "Uncle Dave, do you think I'm pretty?"
"Of course I do, Em. You're the prettiest niece I've got for hundreds of miles around", the last being a joke, since our nearest relatives were roughly a thousand miles distant. She smiled briefly, then wanted to know "Do you think I'm sexy?"
More than a little surprised by the question, I had to think about it for a moment-and really look at her. She'd grown out of her tendency toward being a tomboy, and let her hair grow into a dark mane that ended about the middle of her shoulderblades and framed her lovely face with it's sparkling brown eyes, small straight nose, and her pleasant smile. Her slender neck sat atop delicate shoulders; farther down, what had started out as a couple of minor irregularities on her chest had developed into a pair of breasts that were roughly the size and shape of half an orange. Capping each was a dark brown areola about the size of a nickel, from which protruded a small nubbin of a nipple. Her body was trim, with enough curve at waist and hips to make it clear that she was female, regardless of how young she was. Her legs were still a bit coltish, but already starting to take their final shape: slender and trim, and composed of a series of gentle arcs. At the base of her belly, she had a small, slightly sparse wedge of black pubic hair that wasn't quite thick enough to conceal the skin underneath. I only had to remember glancing at her as she'd gone into the kitchen to know that her butt was small, tight, and nicely rounded. Pushing out the thoughts that were trying to crowd into my mind, I told her "Em, I think you're very sexy… for your age. I can look at you, and see how much prettier and sexier you're going to be when you get a little older."
That got me a pleased smile, and satisfied with my answer, she moved to watch the next movie from the floor. To my dismay, that meant laying on her stomach in front of me: not only was she giving me an uncommonly good look at her lovely young tush, her legs were parted enough that I could easily see the area between her thighs. Try as I might, I couldn't help but look-and felt myself responding to the sight. Her pubic thatch thinned quickly and considerably as it extended down her mons, making it easy for me to see not only the top of her clitoral hood, but the edges of her small, thin labia.
I kept pulling my eyes away and trying to focus my attention on the movie, but found myself looking at her cute butt and crotch far, far more often than I really wanted to. I also felt my cock start to grow as I kept looking at the view she presented, and thinking about her more as a male and less as her uncle.
I greeted the end of the movie with a mix of equal parts relief and disappointment. Emma got up, and after giving me a good-night kiss on the cheek, went down the hallway to "her" bedroom. I remained where I was on the couch for a couple of reasons. First, I didn't dare stand up, knowing that she'd see the bulge of my hard penis in my pants. Second, and more to the point, I needed to think about what the hell I was going to do: I knew damn well that I'd never be able to not see her as a nubile young female again, but I sure as hell didn't want to have to walk around trying to hide erections whenever she came over, either. I didn't figure I could say anything to her about wearing more clothes; if she didn't know (or at least suspect) why I wanted something like that, she'd want to know-and I doubted I could come up with an answer that would satisfy her. In either case, there was a very real possibility that she'd say something to Freddie and Mike; and there was no telling what their response would be, other than something unpleasant.
I must have sat there for nearly an hour, trying to find some way of avoiding that kind of situation again before I finally had to give up and go to bed. Thankfully, not only had my cock shrunk back to normal, but I could hear Em's soft snores, telling me she was sound asleep in her bed.
Thankfully, Emma stayed dressed the next day while we waited for her folks to get back.
To my relief, it was several weeks before Freddie and Mike wanted to know if I could take care of Emma for them again: Mike had to go to some conference or other, and while they could afford for Freddie to go, they couldn't swing including Emma. She was disappointed, of course, but understood. The thing of it was that they were going to be gone for three days and four nights-appreciably longer than anything before. From the tone of Freddie's voice when she asked, I knew that I was actually the last person they were calling, and why. It wasn't for anything other than they didn't want to "impose" on our relationship by asking me to look after Emma for that long. Despite the misgivings I had about how I was going to deal with Emma's likely nudity, I readily agreed. I could hear the relief in Freddie's voice when she thanked me before the two of us worked out the details. They were going to fly out the night before, and because the last day's activities were scheduled to run until late evening, they'd fly back the day after. She went on to explain that Mike's attendance at the thing was some kind of Sign that he was being considered for Important Things, and that her attendance would go a long ways toward his making a good impression on the mucky-mucks. I assured her I was glad to help, and wished her and Mike the best.
When it came time for Emma to come over, she was feeling a little mopey, just as I'd anticipated; not only was she obliged to stay home, but her parents were going to be gone longer than they ever had before. So when I offered to take her out for dinner, it was for the dual purpose of not having to eat my own cooking and try and cheer her up. By the time we got back home, she was back to her usual chipper self. It wasn't entirely coincidental that we didn't get home until a bit past her usual bedtime, so that she was obliged to go straight to bed.
Over breakfast the next morning, she wanted to know if it was okay if her friend Becky came over while I was at work. Emma was easily responsible enough to be left alone during the day, and I knew enough about her best friend to know that there wasn't anything to worry about with the two of them there, so I okayed it.
When I got home from work, I was a little surprised to see Becky still there for the simple reason that any time previous, Emma's friends had left before I got home. But Becky was a good kid, so I didn't mind having her stay later-even to having supper with us. Afterwards, the two of them were insistent that they'd be the ones to take care of cleaning up, to my pleasure… and suspicion. I'd heard enough from the parents that I worked with to know that there was no such thing as a free lunch where teenagers were involved; with the girls so adamantly volunteering to do something I'd normally have to ask their help with, I figured there was something they wanted. While I was hoping that it was something like them wanting ice cream for dessert, I didn't really figure I was going to get off that easily.
Not long after they'd finished and come into the living room where I was, I found out what it was they were after: Emma wanted to know if it would be okay for Becky to spend the night.
It wasn't that big of a deal, really, but it was the first time she'd ever asked anything like that, too. While I would have normally would have gently shot down the idea, I still had it in my mind that Emma was going to be there with me for a few more days; it also occurred to me that with Becky there, it seemed pretty unlikely that Emma would go into her naturist mode and start running around naked. I'll confess that it was that latter detail that counted most toward my granting the request, provided that Becky's parents called and said they were okay with it. It wasn't but a couple of minutes later that they were on the phone with me, doing just that.
I'd barely hung up the phone when both of the girls were rocketing toward Emma's room. It wasn't her room, of course; just the spare bedroom I had that she had been allowed to add some personal touches to for when she was staying with me. There were a couple of dolls from when she was little, a few stuffed animals, and a couple of boy band posters, among other things.
I actually kind of welcomed their departure, figuring that they'd be spending most of the evening in Em's room. That relief was replaced with horror when I saw the two of them coming back down the hall a few minutes later: both of them were stark naked.
With Emma free to wander around in varying stages of undress, I didn't see that there was anything I could say about Becky's nudity. I kept my face blank and projected my best calm composure facade, and waited to see what other landmines lay waiting for me. When the two of them got close enough, Emma must have seen that I needed some kind of explanation, and told me "You know that Becky's, like, my best friend ever, and I told her one time about me and Mom and Daddy being nudists. She didn't freak out or anything, so I asked her if she'd like to find out what it's really like. She did, and went with us for a day a couple of times. Of course, she didn't tell her parents exactly what KIND of day camp we were going to! Anyway, once she tried it, she found out that there wasn't anything to be worried about or ashamed of, so she's okay with it now."
After that, Becky told me "It's not like I take my clothes off all the time, or anything like that; just that if I'm someplace with Em, I'm okay with getting naked if she is."
Hoping that my shell of equanimity didn't crack open, I nodded my understanding before telling her "Sounds reasonable to me" and turning to watch the TV again.
To my infinite joy, the two of them opted to sit on the floor and lean back against the couch I was sitting on-effectively putting them out of my direct sight. Still, as the evening went on, both were up and down several times for various reasons. Being good kids, both were polite and courteous enough to ask if there was anything I needed or wanted whenever that happened, which made it possible for me to learn what Becky looked like.
A dishwater blond with lovely green eyes and cute face, Becky was a fraction of an inch taller than Emma, and slightly better developed… due to being a little older, I figured. Her breasts were generally pear-shaped, with pink areolas about an inch across. Centered in those were her nipples, looking like the stereotypical pencil erasers. Becky was a bit more curved at waist and hips than Emma, and had legs that were a little thicker and stronger-looking-but no less appealing. To my surprise and pleasure, her mons was completely shaved; I could easily make out the hood of her clitoris, and the edges of her labia where they peeked out from her cleft. All in all, she made for an attractive and undeniably sexy package.
While the two of them weren't bouncing up and down all the time, it still happened often enough that the sight of them in front of me kept me semi-erect all evening. I wasn't able to "relax" until after it got to be their bedtime, and they'd gone back to Em's room.
When I figured it was safe to do so, I got up and went back to my bedroom and went to bed. I wasn't anywhere near ready to fall asleep when, a few minutes later, my door opened. Recognizing Emma's silhouette, I waited to hear what she had to say or ask. Instead, she gave me the surprise of my life by coming over to the bed and slipping under the covers with me. Shocked, it took a couple of moments before I could exclaim "Emma, what the Hell are you doing?!" while scooting myself well away from her.
She closed the gap I'd created between us, prompting me to open it again; that was immediately followed by her closing it, me moving away, her moving closer… it ended when I was faced with either falling out of bed or actually getting out of it. Since I habitually slept nude, that seemed like a poor choice, under those circumstances. That left me with no choice but to lay there and feel her warm body next to mine.
Satisfied that I wasn't going to get away from her, Emma finally got around to answering my question by telling me "What I'm doing is making sure I have your attention, because there's something special I need to ask you."
"Emma, you know that I always pay attention when there's something you want to tell me or ask. What could you possibly have to ask me that's so special you have to get into bed with me like this?"
"I want to ask if you'll agree to being the one I give my virginity to."
Stunned, it was several seconds before I could say the first thing that came to mind, which was something I'd heard her say: "That is so not gonna happen!"
I heard a brief, soft laugh before she said "Before you say that, will you listen to what I have to say to you? I've heard you tell Mom and Daddy that you think people should have the chance to explain themselves when they want somebody to do something; aren't you going to give me that chance?"
Mouth, meet foot. Foot, mouth. Sighing at being hoisted on my own petard, I told her "Okay, go ahead, then. Let's see if you can convince me I should be going to bed with my own fourteen-year-old niece. If you can't, will you go back to your own bed and leave me in peace?"
" If I can't, yeah, I will", she answered.
After taking a few seconds to apparently organize her thoughts, she began by telling me "The first thing you should know is that I'm not wanting to stop being a virgin for any reason except that I think I'm ready. I've heard other girls talking about having sex, but Mom and Daddy… and even you… you've helped me learn that I should only do something because it's right for me, not because everybody else is doing it. I mean, I was wondering what sex was like even before my last birthday, but I knew I wasn't ready to find out yet, so I waited. Whenever I started feeling like I wanted to start having sex, I'd stop and really think about it-what I'd be doing, and with who, and why, and all of that; and then I'd think about if that was really what I wanted right then. Every time I did that, I realized that I wasn't really ready yet. It wasn't until I could honestly tell myself 'that's okay' if it hurt real bad when I lost my cherry, or that I might not like how it felt the first time or even the first few times, and that I really could accept that once I gave someone my virginity, I couldn't get it back again, and all the rest of it, that I knew I was ready for the just-sex part of it."
Taking a breath, she went on "From the things Mom told me, and the things that she and Daddy have said… I knew that being with someone like that should be special. That was even harder for me than the other, because I had to think about what I wanted and why, and then really look at what people I knew were like so I could try to figure out if they were someone I was willing to give myself to that way. I knew I didn't want somebody that would tell everyone what we did, or that didn't understand that my first time was something special to me, or wouldn't treat me right, or any of that kind of stuff. I wanted to make sure that it would be as important to the other person as it was to me, basically. I'm telling you this so you know that I'm not just wanting my virginity to go away so I can start having sex; I need you to understand that being with a guy like that IS something special, okay?"
A couple of seconds went by before she told me "Once I was absolutely, positively sure that I was ready, I actually went to Mom and talked to her about it. I wanted her to know that I wasn't doing it 'cause I was with some guy and got too worked up or anything like that, and to see if she really could understand like she told me she could. I was really nervous about it-talking to her, I mean, not what I wanted to do-and I was really surprised when she told me that it was up to me to decide when I was ready, and to make sure first. I couldn't believe it when she asked me if I'd thought about birth control! I had, and I even found out what I could about it; I knew which one I wanted to use, but I never figured I could get it. Except that when I told Mom about it, she said she'd find out from her doctor-you know, her gynecologist-what they could do that would be best. She did, and after I went in for an exam, I started taking pills. They made me feel a little different when I first started, but everything was okay after that, so the chance of me getting pregnant are about as small as they can be. So now you know that I even thought about that part of it, too."
She finished by telling me "So there it is: I'm sure this is what I want to do. I can't get pregnant, and Mom knows I'm going to, and she's okay with it. And so you don't have to ask, I'm very sure that I want it to be with you, 'cause I already love you and know you love me and would treat me right. I obviously can't know if it's going to hurt or not, but if it's going to, I know I can trust you to make it hurt as little as it can. If there's something you want to know that I didn't talk about, just say so and I'll tell you."
Having said her piece, she somehow managed to wriggle herself a little closer to me so that nearly the entire length of her body was against mine with her breasts pressed against my arm and her bush tickling my hip.
I like to think that if I'd only had to deal with either her oral argument or the feel of her body against mine (which conjured up images of how she'd looked laying on the floor, dammit), I could have found the resolve to send her back to her room. The thing was, to my Engineering mind, she'd actually done a decent job of eliminating any major reasons why it couldn't happen. I suppose I could have tried to find reasons it couldn't, but the distraction of having her right there next to me made that all but impossible. The best I could come up with was to ask her "What about Becky? Should you be here when she's in there? What happens if she wakes up?"
Emma put an arm on my chest and draped her leg across mine before answering "She's already awake, and knows I'm in here-and why. She's almost ready for her first time with a guy, too, so she's staying the night in case there's anything I need afterwards. She'll stay in there until morning unless I go get her for something. She's my best friend, and she knows stuff that I've never even told Mom or Daddy, so I know she'd say even less about it than I would… which is zero. Nobody's going to know that you had sex with me unless you tell them."
After that, she demonstrated her good sense by remaining quiet while I tried to find some way out of the situation other than plain and simple refusal-something I simply couldn't bring myself to do, try as I might. After a few minutes, I finally had to face the fact that it was either tell her "no" in a way that I'd never done before, or give in to her request. It may well have been (probably was, actually) my gonads overloading my brain, but I heard myself tell her "Okay, Em, if you're sure enough to climb into bed with me, I guess it'll be okay."
I heard her release a soft sigh of relief before she slid over a little bit and told me "Why don't you move over here, then. I know you can't be comfortable when you're all but falling out of bed like that."
Having already surrendered, I did as instructed, and shifted myself close to her. Taking the bull by the tail, I looked squarely into my future as I told her "You said you had to figure out what YOU wanted from all this, so now's a good time for you to tell me."