Day Three

Sam tiptoed into his sister's room, he didn't know why she had wanted to know when Uncle Peter woke up, why she wanted to be woken up, but he tried to stay on her good side. Shaking her he whispered, in a voice loud enough to wake the whole house "Emmy, Emmy, he's in the shower Em."

Emily knocked his hand away, "Go away Sam." She muttered, regretting not for the first time the fact there were no locks allowed. Of course her parents would say it was her own fault. Three years earlier they had to break the lock on the bathroom door. She was inside with Sammy, she had him on all fours, and using shampoo as a lubricant was fucking him with a dildo from her mothers collection. She still remembered the sight of his sweet pink arse bent before her, stroking his 4 year old cock,and telling him to stay still. His cries of pain as she tried to move the dildo in and out had excited her in a way she wasn't expecting, and when the lock broke Sam was sobbing, she had her hand on her clit, her fingers wanking furiously whilst with the other hand she twisted and turned the dildo inside him.

Whilst her father had taken care of Sam, her mother had taken her aside for a serious chat, a chat about care homes, a life without them, her friends, her pony biscuit (she was crying by this point). She promised to never try anything like it again, but her parents still removed all the locks.

Sam had squirmed his way into bed between them. Sarah was still sleeping, by now Emily remembered why he was here. She kissed him on the forehead, and cupped his small penis in her hand,gently tickling. "Good boy Sam, I'm getting up but you can stay here with Sarah, I want to talk to Uncle Pete alone." Sam was content, he liked to please more than anything, his school reports always emphasised what a helpful child he was, other parents commented on the fact he was always smiling.

Emily stroked his cock. Pencil thin but hard. "Why don't you wake Sarah up?" She suggested.

Emily had slept naked,and needed to decide what to put on now. Her hello kitty pyjama shorts seemed ideal. Quietly leaving the room, barefoot, pink and every inch the thirteen year old child she headed downstairs for breakfast.

Peter sat at the wooden kitchen table, the black coffee untouched in front of him, trying to convince himself that last night was just a whiskey fuelled dream.

"Hello Uncle Peter. "Emily stood at the kitchen door, he refused to look round at her."Hi Em". She moved and sat opposite him. "Whats wrong? Is it me? Did I do it wrong? Did you not like it?"

There was a tremor in her voice, he looked at her and saw tears in her eyes. Of all the conversations he had imagined this was not one of them,reassuring his niece that she gave the best BJ he had ever had.

"Dear God Emmy, no, you did nothing wrong, nothing at all". This brought a weak, trembling smile to her face. "You liked it then?" Desperately struggling for the right words Peter was unsure what to say. "Shit Emily I liked it, but it was wrong, it shouldn't have happened, it must not happen again"

Emily looked down, the smile gone." I wanted to do it with you, the boys at school, said I was good but I don't fancy them, sometimes I touch myself, and imagine it's you." Her voice was barely a whisper as she made the admission.

The flush of the toilet broke the silence. "That's mum up "said Emily.

"Come here." Said Peter determined to reassure her. He awkwardly hugged her, trying not to feel the breasts pressed against him, the hot breath on his neck, she broke away beaming and ran upstairs.

It was hard not to laugh as she returned to her room. Despite his protest the erection pressed against her had shown how much he wanted her, wanted it to happen again. There was no way she would have sucked any boys at school off. Girls got reputations for much less and she preferred older men anyway. That much was at least true.

She passed her Mum on the stairs. "We have your appointment this morning Emily, don't forget." Emily nodded, how could she forget. Ever since the incident with Sam she had been seeing a private therapist, her parents not the sort to contact social services after all. At first she had been worried, but he had swallowed the line about copying a video she had found. Being in private practice the therapy was open ended, her parents content to pay for a quiet conscience.

Recently she had started to describe her "fantasies" about her cousin, intrigued by his reaction. When she had gone into the details of having her clit licked, then pinning her cousin to the bed and fucking her with a hairbrush, making her lick the blood from it, then fucking her some more until Sarah came, crying out with the orgasm, the therapist had shifted awkwardly,trying to hide his response.

She had not told him of course that it wasn't a fantasy, that Sarah had writhed on the hairbrush whilst she told her what a little slut she was. That Sarah begged now to come and had sent naked pictures of herself with "Ems whore" scrawled across her tummy.

Sitting in the car on the way to Newcastle she wondered how Sam and Sarah were doing with their task. The real help after the bathroom incident (not her words for it), had come from elsewhere. Sitting, tears running down her face, she had confessed, desperate to hear everything would be ok. She had been punished of course, but she had also been encouraged to explore with Sam, in a way that left no trail to be followed. Sarah was more recent, as she had realised girls attracted her. Her classmates were considered too risky, but Sarah, who already idolised her, was ideal.

Sarah and Sam sat in the tree house looking at the contents of the bag Emily had left them. Even in a house without locks there were hidden places and Sam's tree house had been used many times to keep away from prying adult eyes.

"Does it hurt?" Asked Sarah as she pulled the butt plugs from the bag. She had felt Sarah's' fingers explore her, gritting her teeth as she did so. But this shiny piece of pink plastic, no longer than her hand,seemed much more threatening.

Sam thought for a moment. "Not hurt, I dont know the word, but Emily likes it". In his world this was enough,the "Good boy", the kiss the caress. He stood, pulled off his shorts and bent over. Sarah leaned over, his bottom hole looked like a strange flower.

Tentatively she stretched out her tongue. Sam gasped as she touched him. She circled around ,then plunged her tongue deep into his hole, he backed onto it, reaching forward she felt his penis, rock hard. Holding it between her fingers she moved the skin in the way Emily had taught her,rubbing in rhythm with her probing tongue. This was no longer about the task, that the two of them should be plugged until Emily returned. Sarah felt herself growing wetter, listening to Sam,knowing she was causing his moans. Not wanting to stop she scrambled on the floor for the plug, almost overbalancing as she did so. Picking it up she stopped licking and pushed it into Sam. It went in far more easily than she had expected, but then Sam wore it often, Emily especially liked to get him to wear it before dinner,and spend the meal with their parents knowing her little brothers' arse was being stretched.

Then Sarah took a deep breath,pulled down her knickers and lay on her tummy. It was her turn.

Claire parked the car,looking at Emily she smiled."Did it go ok?" She asked Emily nodded, "Can I go for a walk mum, i don't feel like chatting." Her mum nodded, smiling at her little girl. For a while she had feared the worst, wondered what had caused Emily to behave so shockingly. But over the years she had come to accept it was just a terrible incident which no one would ever properly explain. Sam was a happy,normal boy. Giving up her job was hard, but time had shown it was the right decision.

Emily wandered along the beach, to the place she secretly thought of their spot. He never promised he would meet her after her sessions, but he usually did. She found the outcrop of rock, the rock where she had been sitting crying 7 years earlier. Mum had been working then and Nanny Fiona had been looking after Sam and her. Sam had been fussing about something or other, and Emily had gone into the garden to check on her rabbits. There on the grass bloody and ripped open was Snowy. Fiona had left the run open and a fox had got in.

Scooping Snowy up, the blood dripping down her checked blue school pinafore, she ran into the kitchen, tears streaming down her face.

"Look,look!" She shouted, "You left them out." Fiona glanced across from the range where she was cooking tea, Sam hanging onto her legs. "Get that out of here!" She ordered. "What on earth is it?" Emily didn't answer she was already running down the garden, onto the beach, clutching Snowy to her, barely able to see through her tears.She sat down on a rock, hating Fiona, Sam, her parents, everyone and everything.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting there when the dog came sniffing at her legs. She heard a voice call it away,and looked up to see Mr Henderson, one of their neighbours. He looked down,took in the rabbit dead in her arms, the tears, and sat in the rock next to her.

"Fox eh?" She nodded." Carrying on looking out to sea he spoke again. "You should bury him, then we shall get you cleaned up."

That was how they had met. She had dug a hole in the sand, then followed him up to the house. Listening to him talk to Fiona on the phone she had felt totally comfortable in her knickers and vest. Her dress was in his washing machine, he had told her it was too dirty to wear.And he had arranged for her to come and help look after his chickens. Even suggested she could care for them when he was working.

Emily smiled,kicking her legs on the high stool. She felt happy, and when he smiled back at her, wanted.

She could not give a date to when it became natural to feel his hand stroking her legs, across her pussy. It was many months before he suggested she leave her knickers at the door when she visited. She started leaning over whenever she could, knowing she would be rewarded with a caress or flick of her clit.

She did remember the day she first tasted his cock. He asked her to get the chicken feed out of the pantry, leaning over she had made sure her dress rose up, waiting for his fingers to start exploring her, used bt now to the sticky wetness between her legs she produced whenever she was at his house. Instead he grabbed her hair, pulling her up right, twisting her by the ponytail till she faced him. She tried to squirm away, whimpering with the pain.

"You are such a little cock tease, showing your cunt, expecting men to caress it, its time you learnt what happens to cock teases." As he spoke he undid his trousers with his other hand, freeing his hard erect cock from his underpants. Pushing her downwards he commanded "Kneel". On her knees the cock filled her vision, he loosened his grip slightly, "Open your mouth."

She could smell him, his cock, it pressed against her lips and she opened her mouth, feeling it fill her. Her tongue flicked against his cock, her lips closed around it. He started moving her head backwards and forwards, building up a rhythm. She felt the urge to gag, but didn't want to stop, grabbing his legs she moved in time with him. As he pushed further she struggled for breath, then her mouth was filled. For a moment she thought he had weed, but this was different, hot, thick, salty. "Good girls swallow it down," She swallowed and looked up, he was smiling at her.

She sat on his lap in the lounge, gently he kissed her forehead and held her. She could still taste the saltiness in her mouth as he told her how good she was at what she now knew was called a blow job, a natural in fact.

Returning to the house she was smiling, she enjoyed telling him of her sessions, but recounting her success with Uncle Peter had been even better.He promised a reward for succeeding so soon with the plan. Now she had to go back, be the good daughter, after checking on Sarah and Sam.

That evening dinner was outside. The pink striped sky proved too great a lure. "It's like being on holiday. "Laughed Claire, leaning back in her chair, her face glowing in the last rays of the sun. Peter could not help watching her, and Emily, so alike in so many ways. Emily and Sarah were trying to teach Sam to do cartwheels on the lawn. A turn and a flash of white panties as their dresses fell down. He turned to Claire, safer territory he hoped. But she was in a strange mood, Resting her legs on the decking rail the sun shone through her dress, revealing the outline of her legs. She was sipping her wine and absently playing with her hair.

James returned from the house where he had been taking a phone call. He lent over Claire,kissing her gently on the forehead. "I'm sorry love, theres been a bad accident, 2 patients at least may need surgery." Claire smiled, reassuring him it was ok, then they were alone except for the laughter of the tumbling children.

Emily stooped her impromtu gymnastics display, watching her mum intently. She was sitting next to Uncle Peter now, and flirting Emily realised. She started to panic, if Uncle Peter fucked her mum the plan might not work, then she had an idea. Calling for Sam and Sarah she gave them their instructions.

The children were in bed, with surprisingly little fuss. Peter knew Claire was flirting with him, but the two bottles of wine they had drunk meant he thought about this less than the fact her nipples were hard and pressing through the thin cotton of her dress. Her hand rested on his leg and he looked her straight in the eyes. Moments later his mouth was on hers, her tongue greedily searching his mouth. Without speaking he took her hand and led her upstairs.

Standing in his room she seemed a little more unsure, a little afraid of where she was. He kissed her neck and she moaned gently, then stepped away from him to pull off her dress. He felt his erection grow as she stood before him, naked, her nipples still pink, thickening around the waist but with the curves of a woman. He realised her pussy was smooth, and Emily standing there flashed into his head. He banished the thought, he wanted to make love to this woman, to prove he was normal, a normal man.

Claire lay on the bed, watching him as he took off his clothes. He stumbled slightly ,and they both laughed. "There is no sexy way for a man to remove socks" admitted Peter, then knelt over her, stroking her legs, up from ankle to thigh, feeling her shiver at his touch.

"Mummy ,Mummy where are you Mummy?" Sam's voice was high, worried, tearful. Claire jumped up, "He has bad dreams" She frantically pulled on her dress, it was the wrong way round Peter noticed. "Muuuuuuuummy" Sam wailed as Claire ran from the room.

Peter sat on the side of the bed, wondering if he should wait for her to return. He knew though she would not, sobered by looking after her child she would not step through his door again.

Then the door slowly opened, he looked up, surprise on his face, and there stood Emily, Opening her dressing gown she stood naked in the very spot her Mother had.

"Sam's had a bad dream, he's asked Mum to sleep with him to keep the weeping angels away, she is in his room at the other end of the house."