Uncle Mark, Ch. 2: [Mf] [inc] [tease]

"We'll be gone for the weekend, at least," Sam told Mark gravely in the foyer. "It might not be Tuesday until we get back. I'm really sorry about this." A couple of hastily packed suitcases sat at Sam's feet. Jen came from the kitchen, swinging her purse over her shoulder.

"It's not a problem at all," Mark said consolingly. He touched Jen's shoulder. "It's good that you're deciding to go out there. Your grandfather will be happy to see you." Jen smiled weakly in return.

"Val's not that close to her great-grandfather," Sam said. "No sense in eating up her summer."

Mark shook his head, telling Sam with the gesture that rationalization wasn't necessary. "It's all right. I'll keep her out of trouble here."

Sam nodded. "Don't want you to be trapped in the suburbs. The convertible is yours. I know you'll be careful."

Mark saw Sam and Jen to their car and waved as they drove off, then returned to the morning silence of the house and exhaled. He plunked himself down in the living room and unfolded the Saturday paper.

"They're gone?" Val asked from halfway down the stairs, looking groggy and sounding confused.

Mark turned his head. He forced himself to keep the vision of the busty young beauty in her long nightshirt and shorts such that her most arousing projections were at the periphery. Still, he felt a stirring between his legs. He willed it to go away, as it was not appropriate for the news he had to give her. "They went to visit your great-grandpa," he said. "Apparently he's not doing so well."

"Oh," Val said, and was silent for a few moments. "Well, he is pushing a hundred."

"That's a pretty good run in anyone's book," Mark said, trying to keep things light.

Val grinned down at him for a few moments longer than Mark was used to. "So," Mark continued, "that leaves you and me for the weekend." He got up and faced the stairs, leaning on the arm of the sofa and crossing his arms over his chest. He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. "Tell me, are you easy to take care of?" His voice had a layer of goofy good humour. "I don't have to take you to get your shots or get your claws trimmed or anything?"

Val smirked. "No shots," she said, "but a trip to the nail salon would be nice."

"Ha. Your parents keep a bag of food for you?"

"Yup," Val played along.

"What time do you get fed?"

"Noon and six on weekends."

"When do you get walked?"

Val shrugged. "Just let me loose in the back yard."

Mark nodded curtly. "Sounds like a good deal to me. I'm off for a run, myself. Try not to blow the house up while I'm out. My iPad is expensive."

Val blushed at the mention of the tablet. Did he know? She stammered out an answer but Mark was already putting on his shoes.

"Later, gator," Mark said, and then he was gone.

Val let out a deep breath. She considered snooping her uncle's tablet again but decided against getting worked up again so early in the day, and who knew how long he would be out? Half an hour, maybe an hour? She smiled as a better idea came to mind.

Figuring her uncle would be gone for forty-five minutes, she spent the next twenty or so on Facebook, and then gathered up her clothes for the day and headed to the upstairs bathroom to shower. In front of the mirror, she undid her bun and let her copper-red hair tumble freely over her shoulders and down her back. She practiced her seductive looks, throwing in some dangerous porn-star-esque ones. The practice started to get her worked up, and she began to bop her hips to some R&B music in her head.

Val was entranced by her own body. It had ripened quickly and she wasn't yet used to it. Sometimes it was like looking at someone else in the mirror, someone sexy and irresistible. And so it was like another girl was dancing in the mirror — dancing for her. Working her hips constantly, she slowly pulled up the hem of her night shirt until the heavy undercurves of her breasts were exposed, and she experimented with how high she could get her shirt until her areolas started to peek out. Pleased, she tied a knot in the hem to keep the shirt in place, stretching it tighter over her breasts and making her stiffening nipples more visible. Angling her sultry hips towards the mirror, she gyrated and again played with how low she could push the front of her shorts down before exposing the top of the well-trimmed strip of hair above her sex. She paused to admire the way the light coming in through the bathroom window cast form-defining shadows over her abdomen and pelvis. She pushed her shorts and panties completely off and finished her show the way she always liked to, by facing her ass to the camera and shaking it. Unlike other girls in school who were on the busty side, Val had the ass of a gymnast, with just a little bit of extra padding to complement the rest of her curves. She looked over her shoulder at her reflection to watch the bare curves of her backside bounce and jiggle, and she quietly practiced her breathy moans, as though someone — a certain someone — were plowing into her from below.

With a groan of frustration she stripped her shirt off and stepped into the glass-walled shower.

Mark returned from his run shortly after ten in the morning, when the pleasantness of the morning was giving way to the heat of the day. His sleeveless shirt was soaked with sweat, his quads and calves pumped under his running shorts. He took his shoes off and listened at the bottom of the stairs. Damn. Val was showering. "Ugh," he said as he peeled off his wet shirt. How good a cold shower would feel. He trudged up the stairs and tossed the shirt into the hamper in his room, then went down the hall to listen at the door to the bathroom. After a moment he rapped with his knuckles. "Val? I'm back. You gonna be much longer? I'm all sweaty and gross."

Val froze. A bank of soap suds slid off of the curvy shelf of her breasts and down her abdomen and thighs before dissolving completely in the stream of water from the shower. The bathroom was steamy. Her heart thudded in her chest.

Mark straightened, surprised. Did his niece just say, "Come in" to him? He chewed his lip, then spoke in a light tone. "Why, you got two showers in there?" A fantasy of her, naked and wet, flashed in his mind. He tried to dismiss it.

"No, silly," Val called back. "I'll be done in a sec."

Was that how Sam ran his house? Wait your turn for your shower in the bathroom? Surely not. Mark remembered the way Val rested her foot against his at dinner, the way she leaned into him. His cock got the message and began to stiffen against his shorts. Shit. Were this one of his girlfriends, well, he wouldn't have even knocked. He had to be careful with this one. "Well, come get me when you're done. I'll be in my room."

Val pouted. Why did it have to be so difficult? But the pout turned into a smile. The little back-and-forth was fun, after all. Now, what to do? She couldn't just barge naked into his room. No. That would put too much on her.

Mark was sitting on the edge of his bed, clad in his running shorts and using his iPad when he heard the tap at his door. "Yo," he said, and looked up.

Val was there, wrapped in a light pink towel. She held the thing closed at her side with one hand. It looked like she threw the towel on and almost missed. She held the towel tight enough to make her breasts bulge and swell, and it was low down enough that Mark was certain that the girl's nipples hid no more than a millimeter below the edge of the towel. Her wet hair had been briefly toweled, but fell in a lusty way on her shoulders and across her face. "All done," she said sunnily, and giggled. Mark realized he was gaping at her.

"My God," he said. He could no longer deny that he liked her body. Better own it, and in eye-rolling Uncle fashion. "Do you have a license to carry concealed weapons? You better watch where you point those puppies, Val." His niece beamed. Mark tossed a rolled up pair of socks at her, striking her in the shoulder, and she laughed and flinched away. "Clothes, my dear! Clothes!" he said theatrically, rising before his cock could, and took his own fresh clothes for the day into the bathroom. He had to glance over his shoulder towards her room, however, and saw her sauntering into it. She looked over her shoulder, too, and their eyes met. Mark smirked. So did Val. Mark locked the bathroom door. Val left her door open a crack.

Mark found himself poised over the toilet, furiously stroking his erection. He grit his teeth and stopped. "Shit. Val's my niece. I can't do this," he chided himself. Reluctantly he took his hand off of himself and leaned against the wall. "Fucking crazy sixteen year old –" he trailed off in his mind and sighed outwardly. A cold shower. That was what he needed for sure.

He felt a little better after his shower and shave, but still felt charged with a naughty energy. He couldn't help but picture Val in all sorts of situations, for a moment or two at a time, and even as he put his shorts on he was still sporting a semi. Obviously Val was flirting with him. Obviously she was up to something. Well, if she wants to play, let her play. Mark was no puritan. And heck, a devilish voice added, he didn't have to fuck her to enjoy her little games.

He found her in the kitchen, dressed in a white tanktop and dark blue denim shorts. Her hair was dried now and she wore it long down her back. The straps of her white bra were slightly out of alignment with the straps of her tank. Val was poised leaning forward against the central island in the kitchen, reading a magazine, with her backside thrust out provocatively. Mark saw all this and took a deep breath.

The way Val was standing, he would have to squeeze between her and the cabinet. This, he suspected, was intentional. Her heavy tits grazed the counter top, but her abdomen was so youthfully trim above her lovely hips. He went for it. "Coming through, Val," he said as casually as he could manage. One hand on her hip. Then the other on the other side. For a moment the heart-shaped denim curves of Val's ass held Mark's stiffening cock between them. Mark looked at Val's exposed lower back, the line of her spine just below where her hair ended. He did not want to pause there too long. Val turned her head slightly to look at him out of the corner of her eye, her lips parted slightly. Mark ground himself past her, then swatted her ass. Val yelped and stood up straight. "Standing around like you own the house," Mark chided playfully, and quickly changed the subject as though nothing at all were unusual. "Well, shall I take you to the mall today?" he suggested. "You can get your claws — I mean, nails — done."

Val pouted impishly from the spank and rubbed her backside, but she smiled at the offer. "That'd be fun," she said.

The red Camaro convertible howled down a long stretch of suburban road. Mark hit the gas and the car lurched powerfully, tossing Val back in her seat. The girl laughed as her hair streamed behind her. She looked admiringly at her uncle and the way he handled the metal beast so confidently with one hand on the wheel and the other on the shifter. She liked how corded his forearms were, how strong and sure. As they approached traffic, Mark reined the car in.

Val ran her fingers through her hair to fix it from its windblown state. "So," she said, with a touch of mischief in her voice.

Mark looked over at her. Just like Val admired his forearms, Mark was digging the way that the seatbelt cut between his niece's big, full melons. He looked at them freely from behind the cover of his sunglasses. "So," he repeated.

"Were those girls in that picture — friends of yours?" Val asked.

Mark wasn't about to pretend that Val was so naive. And that wasn't the tone of the game they were playing. He grinned. "Fuckbuddies, Val," he said as casually as he could manage, although his head spun at speaking to his young niece in such a way. Val's eyebrows lifted in surprise behind her own sunglasses. "Those two have always been very good to me whenever I go and visit them."

Val was at a momentary loss for words. She punched him in the arm. "You're horrible, Uncle Mark," she said, smirking.

Mark chuckled. "You bet your ass I am," he said.

"Did you like the one with the big boobs or small boobs better?" There was a hint of insecurity in her tone.

"Ah, Val, it's not about the tits. There are some women with the most fantastic bodies who are absolute bores to be with, or they're just a pain in the ass. And then there are other women who are carpenter's dreams who have been the most fun people I've ever met."

"What's a carpenter's dream?"

"Flat as a board and looking for a screw," Mark said.

Val slapped his shoulder and said, laughing, "Stop! Don't be so rude."

Mark smirked, reached over and ruffled Val's hair. "Don't try to change me, baby. And what about you? You must have a ton of boyfriends."

Val squirmed uncomfortably. "I've dated a couple of guys," she said. "Nothing very serious yet." The truth was it was hard for her to get a date with a decent guy thanks to her reputation at school. Having a chest like hers, among teenagers, was a sure way to get branded a slut at first glance.

Mark patted her bare thigh in a familiar way. Val drew in a breath in surprise. "Ah, well. Don't worry, you'll find a good guy," he said.

In the mall, bright and spacious and air-conditioned, Mark took a certain pride at having such a lovely niece walking by his side. He noted with pleasure how the men and boys turned to look at her. He often glanced surreptitiously down to Val's cleavage where his opal pendant rested, and noted how constrained her breasts seemed to be. "Hey, Val," he said in a respectfully quiet voice, "don't be weirded out or anything, but I couldn't help noticing — is your bra too tight on you?"

Surprised, Val turned to look at Mark and hunched her shoulders up self-consciously. "How can you tell?" she asked.

"They look like they did in the towel this morning," he said, gesturing at her chest, "bound tight and ready to burst."

Val smiled self-consciously. "Yeah. I have only one good bra. Mom hates it when I buy ones that fit me."

Mark cocked his head. "Why? That's weird."

Val shrugged. "I think she's jealous. Wants me to be the same size I was when I was fourteen or something."

Mark sighed and patted Val's arm, then slid her errant bra strap back under the strap of her tank. "Fuck that. We're getting you some bras that fit. As a matter of fact, why don't you slip into the washroom and take that one off? Give yourself some breathing room."

Val's jaw dropped but her eyes were bright with excitement. "Are you serious? I can't do that."

"You can't?"

"I don't wanna be –" she glanced this way and that at the people passing by, "bouncing all over the place."

"It'll be fine. No one will notice."

"Yeah, right." Val leaned in a touch. "I think YOU just want to see them bounce around."

Mark looked unwaveringly into Val's brown eyes. With a smirk he said, "You're not wrong."

Val looked utterly, but pleasantly, shocked, and she punched Mark in the ribs, but stepped in closer and put her arms around his waist. "You're a perv, you know that?"

"I can be a perv and concerned for my favourite niece's health and wellbeing at the same time, you know," Mark said, resting one hand low on her hip. He patted her backside and disengaged from her. "Come on, let's get you some new summer clothes, too. You can stand there looking shocked or you can take advantage of your uncle who's got some money to burn." He walked off, and a moment later, Val hurried to his side and slipped her arm around his.

In the changing room in American Eagle, Val had massed a small fortune of jeans, shorts, tees and tanks. Mark sat dutifully outside, waiting to appraise each outfit in the private area partitioned off from the rest of the store. She'd modeled a couple of them so far, and Mark had actually given some useful feedback about fitting and colour, which impressed her. She looked at herself in the mirror, clad in her panties and bra, and sighed. "This fucking thing." Dizzy with excitement at what she was about to do, like earlier in the morning, she unhooked her bra and slid it off, appraised her bare breasts, and then slipped on a retro 80s top, ultra wide necked, grey with a faded band logo, cut to expose the midriff. She pulled on a pair of very tight designer jeans as well, took a moment to admire her ass in the mirror, and stepped out.

"Right on," Mark said as Val emerged from the changing booth. "Rock and roll. All you need now is an 80s perm — no, you don't need that at all. Forget I said anything. Turn around." He stirred at the way she followed his commands, simple and fitting as they might be. He drew in a breath through his teeth at the sight of her ass. "Val, those are jeans, right? I didn't see you go in there with a bucket of bodypaint."

Val laughed. "Too tight?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Depends on who you ask." Mark resisted every urge to reach out and grab a denim-clad cheek. "How do they feel?"

"Pretty fucking awesome."

"Good. Then you should get them. And watch your mouth," he added. Val turned back to face him and it was then that he noticed no bra strap on the shoulder that was exposed from the wide neck of the shirt. He noticed, too, that the shirt fell over her chest in a slightly different way, and there was a little bounce under that shirt as she moved. He grinned. "It's sexy," he said, "in a retro kind of way. You've got the whole titty-curtains thing happening but with your trim waist it still looks good."

Val giggled. "Titty-curtains?"

Mark reached forward and shook the loose material of the shirt that her breasts had pushed out away from her body, and Val understood. He poked her near the navel and she flinched, smiling. "Go put on one of your tanks with those jeans."

Val obliged, putting on a navy blue one that went well with her hair. In the mirror in the booth, she tugged the form-fitting garment way down until her rosy nipples peeked out to the sides of the straps and the whole of the inner slopes of her breasts were revealed. Saucily she let everything snap back into place, concealing her but not the bumps of her nipples, and went out.

Mark shook his head and fanned himself dramatically. "Yeah, you're getting that top, for sure," he said. "Arms up, turn around. Wow." He mimed bringing a camcorder up to his eye and said, "So, Valentina, was it? How long have you been a model?"

Val, playing along, put her finger to her lower lip and roleplayed the bimbo. "Ummmm, about two years."

"Two years. And you've never worked in the adult industry before this?" Val, breaking her role, made a playfully exasperated sound and reached forward to slap Mark's knee, giving him a view down the front of her tank and her tits, wobbling from the movement. "That doesn't answer my question, Miss Valentina," Mark went on. "And I'll thank you not to strike the cameraman."

Val looked playfully petulant for a moment, then bent towards the camera, one hand on her thigh and her other finger at her lips. "I made an amateur movie once," she said, looking Mark straight in the eye, and she swirled her tongue around her finger and sucked it.

Mark's heart pounded and his cock stirred in his shorts. For a few moments he forgot where he was. He mimed panning the camcorder down and up Val's body. "Is that so? Well the camera loves you. Let's see your tits." He paused, thunderstruck. He had not meant to say that. He shouldn't have. Val looked just as shocked as he, but she gathered up the hem of her tank top in her hands and started to peel it up. Mark sprang to his feet just as the hem was about to clear the heavy lower curves of her breasts. He wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to his body. "Don't actually do it!" he said, half laughing. He looked into her eyes, took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently shook her face. "You are fucking crazy, niece of mine," he said, with more than a hint of admiration.

It was the admiration that Val heard most of all. She grabbed the back of Mark's head and pulled him to her in a savage kiss. It was an onslaught of her lips and tongue that demanded to be challenged and subdued. Mark's head spun and it was by sheer reflex that he kissed her back, like he'd done with so many other wild girls during his travels, yet never with one quite so young. He sparred his tongue with hers and in a moment subdued her. He held her face firmly in both hands and pried her off of him with a final wet smack of lips, and stared hard into her eyes, which had become soft and doe-like as she gazed back up at him, like a child about to be scolded.

"Go back in there. Get changed," he said, his words slow and enunciated. "Go get your nails done. I will pay for all of those clothes. Leave that fucking useless bra in there. You and I need to cool off before we do something we'll regret. Food court at 1 pm. Be there or bus it home." He finished with a half-grin to let her know that he wasn't serious about abandoning her. Val nodded meekly. Mark grabbed her by the shoulders, turned her away, and gave her ass a hard thrust with his pelvis that pitched the unprepared girl forward. She stumbled into the changing booth, looking over her shoulder at her uncle with a mix of incredulity and hunger on her face.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/2z1iyg/uncle_mark_ch_2_mf_inc_tease