A Stormi Night

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The concrete truck's drum groaned as it spat out another gray slurry onto the rebar grid. I wiped sweat from my forehead with the back of a gloved hand. The rhythmic scrape of Mike, Hector, and Enrique's floats against the setting slab was hypnotic - back and forth, back and forth, until I decided it was smooth and firm enough. My loud clap snapped them out of it. "Lunch break!"

Hector's mouth dropped open and Mike tripped over a bucket, staring at something behind me. Enrique turned and emitted a quiet whistle.

I turned left and discovered my sexy oldest niece. Stormi leaned against a wooden fence in a tight black tank top and green miniskirt that barely covered her ass. She licked an ice cream cone with exaggerated mouth movements and a few slurps. Her long red hair blowing in the breeze was attractive, but not nearly as arousing as her tongue, the shape of her breasts, or the trail of vanilla softserve she'd "accidentally" dribbled down the front.

"Brought you lunch, Uncle Pete," she called, holding up a bag and feigning innocence.

I commanded my team, "Go to a restaurant. I'll meet you guys at the Walsh job in an hour." They tried to avoid staring as they walked to their trucks, but mostly failed.

Stormi and I kissed a few times, then I quickly wolfed down the cheeseburger she brought me. She stroked my chest and commented, "I wish we were home, in bed."

"If you can stand the smell, this will do." I held her hand and led her into the porta-potty. The door clicked shut behind us with a sound like a shotgun racking. Stormi didn't bother locking it, just hiked her miniskirt up while I dropped my pants. I sat on the dirty seat, legs spread. "Hurry," I breathed, fingers pulling down my shorts.

The stench of chemical blue water, shit, and stale piss couldn't mask her arousal when she guided me inside her with a gasp. I braced a hand against the flimsy plastic wall. The other tangled in her hair as she moaned, bouncing on my stiff cock.

"Fuck, Pete - FUCK!" Her voice cut off with a hitch as her pussy clamped down. I barely heard the distant rumble of a truck engine over the wet slap of our bodies. I could feel her shaking as her climax tore through her, then my own release hit me like a live wire. She slumped against my chest, breathing hard.

I drove home one-handed, the other kneading her thigh as she hummed along with the radio. In my driveway, I kissed her goodbye. "Love you, Sweetness. See you tonight."

"Hurry home." She offered, "If you eat me, I'll let you play with my butt? Will you?"

"ABSOLUTELY!"

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At the Walsh site, the scent of fresh-cut lumber mixed with the smell of rubbery plastic cable insulation. I ran wiring through the skeletal walls, while Mike plumbed the kitchen and first-floor bathroom. I thought of the rhythm of Stormi and I fucking, while the rest of my team shot nails into wooden stud after wooden stud, on the second floor above. I smiled. It was great to be Stormi's stud.

The afternoon sun dipped low, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink by the time I pulled into my driveway. Stormi leaned against the porch, barefoot, in just pink panties and a yellow camisole so thin I could see the shapes of her nipples through the fabric. She crushed out her cigarette on the wrought iron railing and tossed it into the bushes.

"Took you long enough," she murmured, her lips quirking into that smirk that always made my pulse jump. I barely had time to shut the truck door before she pressed against me, her mouth hungry against mine. Her hands slid under my shirt, nails scraping lightly over my abs before dipping into the waistband of my jeans.

"You smell like sweat and sawdust," she breathed between kisses, her teeth nipping at my lower lip.

I grinned against her mouth, palming her ass through the thin cotton. "And you taste like nicotine and trouble."

Her laugh was cut short when tires crunched on gravel. We broke apart just as Helen's Lexus rolled to a stop beside my truck. Stormi stiffened beside me, her fingers tightening on my belt.

Helen stepped out in a dress that hugged every curve. She didn't look at me. Her eyes locked onto her daughter with icy precision.

"Put on some clothes, and go to Rod and Wendy's house," Helen said, dropping her keys into her Gucci purse. "You're sleeping there tonight."

Stormi's grip on my hand turned vice-tight. "Like Hell I am!"

Helen finally flicked her gaze to me, and the predatory gleam in her eyes made my stomach drop. "Oh, sweetheart," she purred, taking a tripod and camera from the back seat. "Didn't Peter tell you? He's mine tonight. We're making a porn movie."

"What the FUCKING HELL!"

Her mother explained, "Your dad and I made a deal. He can mess around with whoever he wants once a month, and once a month, I get a weekend over here. If I show your father lots of proof that I fuck Peter, he won't want to know any more. I'll show him dirty pictures and videos until he begs me to stop. That way, he won't suspect what you two incest perverts are doing."

"But! But Mom! No!"

"You know your father's temper. I had to talk him out of shooting your last boyfriend. What do you think he'd do if he caught you screwing yourUNCLE?"

"But still... I love him! NO!"

Helen harshly demanded, "Get dressed and go to Wendy's. If you don't, I'm cutting you off. No college money, no more credit cards that I pay for, no car. Nothing."

I assured her, "Don't worry, Stormi. I'll help..."

She released my hand, asking, "Car?"

Helen nodded. "Not top end, but a good used car. Up to twenty grand."

My gorgeous niece pulled away from me. She venomously asked her mother, "I need a car so bad, but why are you always HORRIBLE!" She thought a moment. I was quite surprised that she gave in. "Okay." She sullenly walked into the house.

I helped Helen carry her bags into the living room.

Stormi walked past us, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, with tears forming in her eyes.

I said, "We don't have to. I love you! You can stay and I'll..."

"FUCK YOU! Fuck BOTH of you!" In the doorway, she added, "It better be a great car!"

Helen held my hand. "I'm not in love with you. I don't even like you. But tonight I'll love hate-fucking you, on camera."

The rebellious dick in my pants grew and hardened. I had a crisis of conscience.

Stormi let her mother and me have sex to get a car? A very expensive reward, but I thought I'd never do the same. I loved her far too much.

I thought some more and realized my reward was sex with my hot sister-in-law. Hiding our incest from Frank was important, but I was cheating mostly for the sake of cheating. My guilty conscience tore and pounded at my feelings, but my cock couldn't wait to pound Helen's pussy.

She ordered, "Take a shower and come back naked, nice and slow. I want a video of your big bone bouncing as you walk down the stairs. Then I'll record you jacking it while you eat me. That's sure to turn Frank off."

-

Helen's moans bounced off the living room walls, sharp and erratic as my tongue circled her clit - the camera and two phones capturing every twitch of her thighs, every gasp she tried and failed to stifle. The taste of her was salty and bitter, the musk thick on my tongue. "Fuck, Pete! Right there! Don't stop!" Her fingers knotted in my hair, yanking hard enough to make my eyes water.

The tripod-mounted cam recorded it all: the way her hips jerked off the couch, the obscene glisten between her legs, the moment her back arched and she came with a choked cry, her orgasm shuddering through her like a live wire. Her phone, balanced on a chair, captured the momentary jet of vaginal fluid spraying from her hairless cunt, as mine recorded her curvy ass bouncing on me.

I sat back on my heels, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as she panted, sprawled across the leather cushions. The camera's red light blinked steadily. Helen's smirk was lazy, victorious. "I'll show your brother how much you enjoyed that," she purred, gesturing to my erection. Her toes traced my ankle, sliding higher. "Jerk it and show him how much you love my body."

I fisted myself roughly, the rhythm uneven - part performance, part desperation. The slap of skin was loud in the quiet room. Helen spread her legs wider, two fingers dipping into her own wetness before dragging them up her stomach, over her breasts, smearing slickness across her collarbone. "Come on me," she demanded, tilting her chin up. "Let him see what a messy little bitch you are." My release hit in hot spurts across her cheek, her lips, the bridge of her nose. She didn't blink, just licked a stripe through it with deliberate slowness while the camera kept rolling.

"Shower, then the couch is mine," she declared, walking toward the bathroom. The camera still perched on its tripod, beside the sofa, its LEDs dark. She shared a devilish but delightfully tempting idea. "Think about fucking my huge tits the next time you play with my daughter's little ones."

"C cups aren't little, they..."

"They're a third the size of my triple D's. Little."

Upstairs, my bed smelled like Stormi, strawberry shampoo and cigarette smoke lingering in the sheets. I palmed myself half-heartedly, but guilt coiled tight in my gut. The ceiling fan spun lazy circles above me. Somewhere downstairs, Helen's phone buzzed. Frank, probably. I wondered what he'd think when he saw the video. If he'd believe it. If he'd care.

Thunder rumbled in the distance as a rain shower began. Stormi's anger would be worse than any storm. I'd have to fix it when my beautiful niece returned. I stared at the shadows on the wall and tried not to think of her crying at Wendy's house, without me.

-

The morning light sliced through the blinds in knife-thin stripes, painting Helen's bare skin in gold and shadow. She was already awake, propped up on pillows with that smug, knowing look - the one that said she'd won something, even if neither of us was sure what. Her breasts heaved with each breath, full and heavy, the nipples pebbled tight from the chill of the room. I didn't ask. Just climbed over her, my cock already half-hard from the sight alone.

She didn't wait for permission, not that I'd give it, just grabbed my cock by the base and squeezed. Her hands cupped her tits as she spit into her cleavage. She pressed them together to form a slick, warm tunnel. "Show Frank how much you love these," she taunted, arching her back to give me more to work with. I thrust between them, the heat of her skin, the friction, the way her breath hitched when the head of my dick brushed her chin. Pre-cum smeared shiny streaks across her cleavage, mixing with the sweat from last night.

I titfucked her marvellous melons quite a while. Eventually, I was close, very close. I pulled back, leaving her tits glistening and her mouth twisted in protest. "Not yet," I growled. She laughed, low and throaty, as I pushed her thighs apart. No foreplay this time - just the blunt press of me inside her, her gasp sharp as a blade.

"Mmmm! Fuck me, Peter! Fill me!" She came fast, her nails raking down my shoulders, her hips bucking under mine like she was trying to outthrust me. When I finally pulled out, spilling across her chest in thick, uneven ropes, she just smirked up at me, licking her lips like she'd planned it all along.

Helen reached for the coffee table, turning off her phone's camera with a decisive finger flick. She sat up, shaking her hair back, messy, fucked-out curls sticking to her neck, and stretched like a cat in sunlight. "You're not bad," she admitted, reaching to shut off my phone and the tripod camera. She grabbed one of Stormi's discarded blouses to wipe herself clean. "For a man who's been fucking my teenage daughter." The words hung between us, heavy as a hammer. She wiped her crotch dry, then said, "Have her smell this when she gets back, Hehehe!"

She leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. "Here's how this will work," she murmured, fingers tracing idle circles on my thigh. "Frank's not stupid. If he stops seeing proof, if I stop coming over, he'll start wondering why. So once a month, I show up. You lick, suck, and maybe fuck me as much as I want all weekend. I'll send Frank pictures and video, so he stays distracted."

Her teeth grazed my earlobe, sharp enough to sting. "And my little Stormi gets to keep playing house with her perverted uncle." She pulled back, studying my face. "Unless you'd rather I tell him the truth?"

I exhaled through my nose, my pulse kicking hard. The threat was obvious, but so was the out, a twisted kind of mercy. Helen didn't wait for an answer. She swung her legs off the bed, standing with the grace of someone who'd already won. "After lunch," she said over her shoulder, stepping into her panties, "I want you to eat my ass. Frank hates butt anything. Watching will nauseate him, for sure."

Instead of words, my crinkled nose and frowning lips replied for me.

"Don't worry. I'll use a couple of enemas and shower first, so it's nice and clean. If you munch my butt well enough, I might even let you finger it."

I'd dreamt of that for two decades! Well, at least that was thestartof my naughtiest dream.

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