In the mid-1990s, I moved out on my own. It was a nice rental place—a portiekflat in a neighborhood that felt way too new and modern. Far too distant from the city center. My niece, her husband, and their kids lived on the same street. I’d drop by now and then for a coffee and a chat.
Sometimes life takes an unexpected turn. In her case, it was the divorce. That’s when she asked if I’d mind babysitting occasionally. No problem at all, of course.
She’d been dabbling in Reiki for a while, an Eastern healing technique. I was in a phase where I’d completely lost myself. She suggested treating me with it. Under the motto “if it doesn’t help, it won’t hurt,” I spent several evenings lying blissfully relaxed on the treatment table. Sometimes we’d have coffee afterward and chat a bit. Other times, I’d be in a rush, or she’d have other plans.
During the sessions, I’d occasionally feel her body brush against mine. On this particular evening, after a scorching hot day, she was wearing a thin shirt. I was lying on my back, and once or twice, I felt one of her breasts press against my arm. She apologized, explaining it was too warm for a bra. Her full, rounded curves didn’t feel unpleasant at all, I didn’t read anything into it.
A week later, the weather had cooled a bit. She asked if it bothered me that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She told me she never wore one at home anyway. She had on a thin sweater that accentuated her ample figure, her thick nipples poking through the fabric. “Normally, I always wear one when treating others,” she said, “but you’re my nephew, so you won’t think anything of it.” I’m not immune to feminine beauty, but pursuing my niece would be a step too far. I told her it was fine.
During the treatments, I’d sometimes feel a nipple pressing through the thin fabric of my t-shirt against my skin.
Her kids were with her ex for the weekend, finally, some time for us to share a beer and catch up. Alcohol has a way of loosening inhibitions. After all the small talk and a genuine conversation, I got curious. She’d been divorced for a while now, so I asked if she ever craved intimacy. I was just genuinely interested in how a woman in her mid-40s handled it. For a moment, she seemed uncomfortable with the question. I assured her it was okay if she didn’t want to share.
My niece said she only talked about this with a close friend every now and then. She took a sip of her beer and caught her breath. The room light was dimmed, soft music playing in the background. She’d had a one-night stand once, the sex had been wonderful, something she’d craved for ages. But the next morning felt so awkward and strange. She never wanted that again. It was nicer for her to take care of herself. Emboldened, I asked when she’d last done that. She swallowed and said it felt too intimate. She took another sip. “Right before you got here.”
I felt so aroused. I slipped off my shorts, slid my hand down, and fingered myself to climax.
She looked at me. “You’re a young man—I assume you pleasure yourself too.” Oh yeah, I thought. She’s being honest; now it’s my turn. “It might be weird to tell you this,” I said, “and I know you’re not trying to provoke anything. But this is exciting to share—it might mean you never want to see me again.” I chose my words carefully. At first, I hadn’t thought much of it, but feeling your breasts against me sometimes just feels good. When I jerk off, I fantasize that during a session, your breasts suddenly pop out of your top. You apologize, and I reassure you, telling you how beautiful they are. Then I boldly ask if I can jerk off in front of you. In my fantasy, I pull down my pants and start stroking. You press your breasts against my cock. You get visibly turned on and tell me how nice my dick is. Your breasts softly rub against my cock, and I see your thick, aroused nipples. Because you’re so hot, it doesn’t take long before I cum all over your breasts in the fantasy. That’s how I get off so intensely.
I looked at my niece. “Maybe I’ve been too open—it’s probably really weird.” She met my gaze and nodded understandingly. “Maybe because I’m your niece, it makes the fantasy strange. On the other hand, I take it as a compliment, and it turns me on too.” We stared at each other. “Maybe it’s best if you head home now,” she said. “I’m a bit horny, and taking advantage of my nephew isn’t a good idea. I’ll go pleasure myself properly and cum hard.” As we said goodbye, we shared a tight hug. She kissed my cheek, her hands on my hips, her full breasts and swollen nipples pressing against my chest.
A week later, after the openness from before, things felt a little awkward at first. I wondered if she’d regretted sharing. We sat on her small two-seater couch, pretty close together, sipping coffee. She looked at me with a smile. “Your shared fantasy was delicious. After you left, I went upstairs, got undressed, and slipped under the covers. My finger slid to my wet pussy, over my thick clit. I fantasized about you stroking yourself on the treatment table, feeling your thick, swollen cock against my tits. In my fantasy, you shot thick streams of cum all over me. The sensation in my cunt was exquisite, I came moaning. Because it felt so good, I fingered myself to orgasm two more times after that.”
She looked at me questioningly. “If I weren’t your niece, would you have made a move on me?” My eyes roamed her body—her sparkling eyes, down to her luscious breasts under her sweater, her shorts doing little to hide the outline of her labia. “Yes, I definitely would have.” In my fantasy, we’re sitting on this couch, and you take my hand, placing it on your breast. With a horny grin, you look at me…”What if that fantasy became reality?” You took my hand and lifted your top. “Feel them, dear nephew.” I softly caressed and kneaded your breast, feeling your wonderful thick nipple. First one hand, then both, each holding one of your delicious breasts. I looked at you questioningly. “Does this feel good?” A relieved sigh. “They’re wonderful.” Then I covered them again. “We might go further soon. But we really can’t, darling. Shall we head to the city for a drink?”
After a few more beers—maybe one too many—we stood at her door. She looked at me. “You could go home now, but that feels so abrupt. Want to stay over? We can have another drink.” After that beer, we climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She undressed. “I always sleep in just my panties.” I stripped down too. Nearly naked, we lay facing each other. “Can I cuddle up to you?” Without waiting for an answer, she slid into my arms. I felt her warm, beautiful curves against me. She looked at me. “I’m horny.” I kissed her cheek.
In a haze of lust and alcohol, I felt drawn to her. “What if we just pleasure ourselves together?” She slipped off her panties and crawled back into my arms. The scent of her body, her wet pussy, aroused me. I wrapped my left arm around her, feeling her touch herself. The sounds of fingers gliding over wet labia. “Grab my tit, darling, and stroke yourself nice and hard.” The room filled with moans of pleasure and the scent of sex. Her movements grew more uninhibited and wild; sighs turned to gasps. Moaning, she worked herself toward climax. I pinched her nipple softly at first, then a bit harder. She looked at me with wild, horny eyes. “Baby, I’m cumming.” Once she’d recovered a bit, she turned to me. “Your turn now, sweetie. Live out our fantasy, cum all over my tits.”
As I stroked myself, I felt the warm, soft skin of your breasts. Your hand teased my nipples while the other gently kneaded my balls. “Mmm, cum for me, baby—cover me. I want it.” My hand moved over the tip of my cock; I knew it wouldn’t last. I looked at her lustfully. “Oh, darling, I’m gonna cum.” Thick ropes of semen landed on her shapely breasts. You nestled into my arms, and I felt your soft, warm lips on mine. “Sorry, nephew, we’ve crossed a line, and I don’t want to go back.” You played with your nipples and some of the cum using two fingers. “Shall we go downstairs for a drink?”
Exhausted but satisfied, we fell asleep in each other’s arms. The next morning, I smelled her body, felt her hairy pussy against my leg, enough to get me aroused again. My sweet niece opened her eyes and greeted me. “Last night was delicious.” I felt her lips on mine. Her right hand slid down. “Mmm, what’s this I feel?” She began stroking me softly. Her hand glided blissfully up and down. Her experienced rhythm was heavenly. I looked at my niece, moaning softly. “That feels so good.” “Stroke my pussy,” she encouraged.
I felt her thick labia, caressed her swollen clit. With a horny, pleading look: “Make me cum.” Her hips bucked so wildly I struggled to keep my finger on her clit. I savored the delicious sensation of her fingers around my hard cock. Her body shuddered, her luscious breasts bouncing in rhythm. She whispered sweet, dirty words, ruffled my hair, and kissed me deeply, unrestrained. With a loud cry of pleasure, she came. Without pausing to recover, she rolled onto her back and spread her legs. She grabbed my arms. “Fuck me, please.” I nestled into her arms as she held me tight.
Gently, I felt myself disappear into her wet, horny, warm womanhood. Her hips moved against mine; her hairy pussy rubbed along my cock. For a brief moment, I realized: I’m having sex with my mid-40s niece. But there was no time to dwell. Kissing and moaning, bucking wildly, she lay in my arms. I felt it building, my cock swelled. She ruffled my hair, moaning loudly. “Cum for me, baby—fill me up. I want your cum.” Like a long-abstinent man savoring his first delicious sip, I relished this sensation after so long without sex. I held her tight, slowly building to my peak.
Pulsing, I shot my seed deep inside her. I felt little loving kisses on my skin. “That was wonderful.” We curled into each other’s arms, your legs wrapped around mine. Slowly, I felt my cum leaking from your hot, hairy, wet pussy onto my skin. My finger sought your clit; lovingly, you placed your hand over mine. “This is perfect, I don’t need to cum again. Can I just lie here with you like this? That’s enough.”
