Chapter 2
Kay Faubus breathed deeply and paused at the entrance to her uncle's large, lavish study. She was nervous and uncertain. She felt as if she were about to make the most important step of her life, the success of which would either free her or doom her. And the fear that clutched her heart told her that she could not turn back.
She took another step closer to the partly opened door and paused. She breathed deeply again, feeling the crush of her young breasts against the thin white blouse she wore above a short, tight skirt. As she paused again, Kay was a picture of anxiety, but the kind that added to her unusual beauty. She was quite tall, possibly an inch or so above five and a half feet. She was somewhat heavily built, yet looked dainty and as agile as a ballet dancer, which she occasionally was for certain school performances. Kay's hair was coal black. She wore it long and loose and it carried to her waist. Her breasts bulged like melons, were large and firm and seemed in a constant state of tautness with the little nipples exactly in the middle and pressing outward like small cherries. Kay's buttocks jutted sassily from her tight skirt. Her hips molded in graceful lines to her legs, which were now bare. They were in perfect symmetry with the rest of her body and glided from thigh to knee to calf in dramatic descent. But it was her thighs which seemed most sexual. The way they moved and quivered gave them the appearance of urgency, as if they were anxious to form a comforting cradle beneath a churning man. But Kay's face put a lie to the sexuality of her body. It was innocent. Her eyes were big and round and very dark brown with an expression of wonder to them. Her nose was small and tilted slightly. Her mouth was unusually wide. The lipstick she wore seemed like a secret stain, one that her innocence still questioned.
"Is that you, Kay?" a heavy, male voice called from deep within the room.
Kay's heart beat faster, then she said, "Yes, it is, Uncle Jason. However in the world did you know?"
"I always know," he answered.
Kay stepped into the study and paused again. She looked across the room and saw her uncle sitting behind his mammoth oaken desk. He did not turn toward her, but remained bent over the heavy ledger book which was open before him. He hunched over it like a huge black monster, for he was a very big man in height, weight and bearing. He was very dark and swarthy of complexion. His hair, black and curly, made him appear to have a constant, ominous scowl.
"Well, come in, child," Jason Faubus said, still not raising his eyes from the ledger book.
Kay moved across the carpeted floor. She liked the feeling of her feet sinking into the thick, lush carpeting. It was one of her earliest memories and, though the memory was never recalled, it always nudged at her whenever she entered her uncle's study.
Jason Faubus turned when Kay was midway across the room. He smiled. Even this was an expression of darkness, for his teeth were small and his lips were as dark as all of his complexion. And his eyes those eyes that now roamed Kay's body as she approached were dark, too, and sunken, like small marbles that had been dropped in dark pudding.
"Are you busy, Uncle Jason?" Kay asked, stopping before him.
"I'm always busy," Jason answered. "But never too busy for my niece."
"Thank you," she said formally, her mind racing for approaches to all that she had to ask.
Jason swung around in his swivel chair and indicated a chair at the side of his desk. He nodded to it. Kay skirted the edge of the large desk, then seated herself next to her uncle. She sat very straight and primly with her knees close together, only an inch or two of their bareness revealed by the pull of her tight skirt.
"And what brings you from the dormitory before the weekend?" Jason Faubus asked quickly. "I wanted to talk to you," Kay answered. "Ummm, sounds serious," he said, raising his hand to his chin and rubbing it.
"Well it is, in a way," Kay started. She wondered if the growl of nervousness at her stomach would ever quiet, ever be less than it always was when she confronted her uncle.
"Go on," Jason Faubus encouraged. "You know that I'm always available to hear anything you have to say to help you in any way that I can. I'm sure you know that, Kay. You're all I have all I'll ever have, so naturally I'm interested in everything you have to tell me."
"I know, Uncle," she replied, thinking that she was really a very lucky girl, that few of her friends could look forward, as she could, to wealth and fame because of their uncle's fabulous success.
"Well, Uncle," Kay started again. "I want to take a trip with some friends of mine during the spring vacation."
Jason's eyebrows, bushy and black, shot upward like quick question marks. "A trip? With whom? To where? And why?"
He had shot the questions at her like a quick attorney, and Kay was taken aback for a moment. But she breathed deeply and said, "My roommates are planning a trip to the South. You know, everyone up here gets sick of snow and ice by this time of the year. So, they're going south. And and, I want to go with them, Uncle Jason."
"The South?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why, that sounds wonderful, child. I'll have the Miami house opened and you can stay there. Some of the staff is already there and we can get the others easily enough. Of course you should get away from this miserable weather for awhile, and of course your friends are welcome at the Miami place at any place of course--. "
"Uncle Jason," Kay interrupted.
"Yes, child, what is it?"
"I don't want to go to the Miami house."
He pushed forward in his chair and stared at her. "You don't?"
"No, sir. You see, the girls are planning a trip to Fort Bixdale."
His dark face flushed. His eyes squinted and his body seemed to tense like a spring, hunched and ready to leap.
"Fort Bixdale," he said. The word came like a loathsome utterance. He said it slowly, but hatefully.
"Yes yes, Uncle Jason," Kay said softly. She wiggled a bit in the chair, then moved closer to its edge.
"Have you gone mad, Kay?" Jason asked, leaning forward and glaring at her as if he sought to determine her insanity.
"No, sir. I just want to go to Bixdale with the girls."
"Not there. Good heavens, Kay, not to that capital of obscenity. Not you. Not the niece of Jason Faubus. Good heavens, Kay, that place is a sin hole a cesspool that could destroy you."
"But I really want to go, Uncle Jason," Kay pleaded. "Please please let me go, Uncle Jason."
He turned from her as if her plea weren't worthy of discussion. Then, still not facing her but looking instead across the room, he said, "Is it that your old Uncle Jason is not enough for you any more, Kay? Is that the reason for this nonsense about Fort Bixdale? Is that it?"
"Of course not."
"You're only seventeen, Kay. Yet, I've made you worldly beyond your years. I've . " He paused and looked into her eyes, then said, "I've enhanced you with my love, Kay, my kind of love, the kind that holds no lot for the rabble-sex you'd find in Fort Bixdale. You know that; yet you want to go to that place. You want to leave your uncle your only relative your uncle who has taught you the ways of an enchanting world since you were a child the means that have made you different from other girls yet, now you want to trade that difference for the sameness of the others. You can't mean it, Kay. You're different. Not like the others."
"Yes, different," she said sadly, lowering her eyes to the floor, looking at the carpeting and feeling the sadness of her difference through all her body the difference that had become her own because of her guardian's difference.
Jason Faubus' eyes roamed his niece's body. They gleamed brightly, as if her young body brought up an abundance of memories which lightened all of him, made him more youthful than his fifty years, stronger than such years should riglidy allow him.
Kay raised her eyes and met her uncle's stare. She knew what he wanted, what only she was capable of bringing to him in a quality and quantity that would justify any purpose she might have for pleasing him.
"Kay, I can't let you go to Fort Bixdale I can't if I did I'd . "
"Lose me, that's what you're thinking, isn't it, Uncle?"
"Lose you? Lose my Kay?" he said, mouthing the questions as if they were meant for himself alone.
"That's what you're thinking," Kay said. "But it can't happen, Uncle Jason. You know it can't."
"And why can't it?" he asked.
She pushed up from her chair and moved to a position very close to him. She looked down at him a moment, then boosted herself to the edge of the desk. Her position was one that offered a most enticing view for Jason Faubus. As Kay rested in such a way as to make her breasts loom to the edges of her blouse, revealing the inward lines of them, Jason could not take his eyes from his niece, not from her teasing breasts nor from her bare thighs, which were grossly evident to him as her skirt hiked high above her knees. And Kay's expression changed as quickly as did her decision to present the lure of her body as a bargaining basis for that which she wanted above all things.
She smiled at her uncle, then said, "Do you know why you can't lose me?"
"No, why?" he asked, his eyes holding tightly to the sensual picture she made.
"You can't lose me, Uncle, because we're the same you and I you made me the kind of girl I am, and it can't be taken away from me or from you."
"But you want to go to Fort Bixdale?"
"Yes." She paused, her mind spinning with possibilities, with hope, now that she had taken the role of aggressor, now that she had changed from the frightened niece to the beautiful and sexual girl who held her uncle's passion at her will.
Kay leaned forward, exposing more of her breasts; then she said, "I have a very good reason for wanting to go to Fort Bixdale with my friends. A very good reason."
Jason Faubus, as if he had been put in a trance, straightened in his chair in order to view the hard, brown tips of Kay's breasts, now beyond any stage of teasing, now brazenly revealed to his view.
"Let me hear your reason, Kay," Jason said, not taking his eyes from the delights of her body.
"My friends lots of people at school are beginning to become suspicious of me."
Now he took his eyes from her body. He directed them to her face, and there was a quick change in his expression. It went from indifference, to blazing attention, and there was something else that showed there too. Fear.
"Suspicious?" he said.
"Yes. About me. About why I'm so attached to you. People know it they think it's odd."
"Odd."
"Yes."
He cocked his head to one side as if he didn't understand. Kay, observing the gesture, felt a moment's deep sympathy for her uncle; regretted her words, devised to arouse him to consent to what she wanted. But the feeling of sympathy passed. She could not turn back. She must use any means possible in order to taste the freedom for which she longed.
"Yes, Uncle Jason," Kay continued. "I don't date I seldom do anything with girl friends everyone knows you, that you're my guardian so, maybe it's natural that they think my relationship with you is odd."
Jason straightened and loomed up at her like a giant cloud. "Have they do they ask questions?"
"Not directly. But they infer a great deal."
His body tensed, then he said, "And it's because of this you want to go to Fort Bixdale for vacation? Only because of this?"
"Yes, Uncle Jason."
His body relaxed. He grew smaller in the chair. He raised one hand and again rubbed at his chin. Then he said, "I see you're really, in your own way, you want to protect me protect us don't you, child?"
"I want us to remain happy, Uncle," Kay said, bringing a note of sincerity to her voice, a note that did not tell her actions had become contrived.
Jason Faubus looked intently at Kay's body. Then he looked away from it and said, "Perhaps it will be best if you do join your friends for a vacation in the South."
Kay felt a flutter of happiness grow within her breast until she was sure it would burst. She felt her breasts swell with this great feeling. She felt, too, a feeling of gratitude for her uncle's permission, for all that he had always given her.
Slowly, and rather sensually, Kay pushed off of the desk's edge. She wanted to giggle her thanks like a little girl. But she did not. Her gratitude was best expressed in a womanly way, she knew. Kay turned, perched on her uncle's knee, then raised her finger tips to his cheek. She stroked him lightly, soothingly, as if she were washing away tiredness.
"When when will you be leaving, Kay?" Jason asked.
"Tomorrow after last class, I think," she said. "If not then, the day after."
"So soon," he mumbled.
"But not for long, Uncle," she replied. "Only for ten days, then then we'll be together again."
"But now nothing only loneliness for me," he said, turning a bit and looking into her eyes.
She smiled. She wiggled her buttocks a little deeper into his lap. "But now can be very, very good for us."
His eyes brightened. "Yes. Yes, it can be very, very good as it's always good for us."
Kay leaned a little closer and burrowed her breasts into his chest, attaining a pose of a little girl being comforted. But it was not a little girl's body which pressed so tightly and so sensually. Kay felt her uncle's instant response to her body. Actually, she sensed the response an instant before it became a reality: She was that well attuned to this man who was her uncle. She tried to remember how long it had been, how many years had passed since she and her Uncle Jason had first united as incestuous lovers. Had she been ten? Twelve? Was it earlier than ten? Kay could not remember. Nor did it matter at the moment.
Kay brought her cheek close to Jason's, snuggled it there a moment, then leaned closer and gently mouthed his ear lobe. Jason moaned happily. His body sagged, even as the point of his physique became harder and more erect. Kay dropped her hand atop that erectness, at the same time shooting her young, hot tongue into his ear, twirling it there, wetting him with the sign of her passion and, by doing so, increasing his.
Finally, Jason groaned heavily. He twisted and caught his niece's mouth with his, swamping his thick tongue upon her, shooting it within her mouth and twisting it much as if it was his body torturing in an act of sex. And Kay responded to it. She gripped his tongue with her teeth and lips, drew upon it, twisted it, then soothed the slight hurt by a lavishing of her own spanking tongue. And as she pleased him orally her hand worked in a manual manipulation that, even through clothing, worked its effect, heated and excited him, made him beyond the boundaries of recovery without having first tasted of the many gifts his niece had to offer.
When Kay's moving fingers threatened prematurity, Jason gently stopped her. Then he shifted his body and bared himself. Kay, still kissing him, felt all that was exposed. Her hand became excited. She moved to curl him again within her fingers. He allowed it for a moment, allowed it for several long pulls that sent him to new sounds of passion. But then he again detained her.
Kay knew the signals well. She drew back a bit. Then she arched and presented both of her breasts in a line with her Uncle Jason's face. He smiled as his hands worked inside her blouse. Then, suddenly, but by indication of contrivance more than spontaneity, Kay pushed back a little more, quickly unbuttoned the blouse and banished it from her body, presenting a quivering immensity of young flesh, studded brightly with nipples that had hardened and cracked and pushed out from their molds. These, she moved forward a bit to her uncle.
Jason gripped Kay's breasts gently. He seemed very careful to hold them far back, rather bloating them forward, and in a moment the purpose was known. He leaned forward, then, moving Kay's breasts, and brushed the nipples back and forth on a line across his lips.
It was a torturous action. It teased, self-teased, Jason, and made Kay anxious for more dynamic contact. Finally, she pushed forward as Jason's mouth opened to catch all of her left breast within the hot opening of his mouth. Kay's head arched backward and her neck cords strained as Jason mouthed her, gathering as much as possible of the flesh unto herself. Kay helped his adventure. She gripped his head and cuddled him tightly to her. And when he began a forward and backward motion of taking and withdrawing, she aided this too, did so by matching his rhythm in a way that allowed his mouth to draw far away, holding her by the mere breast tip alone, and thus further torturing them both.
Quickly, now, uncle and niece became very heated. The action speeded. The breathing from Jason became smothered in flesh, then freed, then smothered again in a constant motion of burying himself. And Kay breathed heavily too. The sound seemed light, yet strained, as it exited from her tight-neck, arched position.
Suddenly, Jason stopped the action. His hands replaced his mouth as he seemed to rest, rather nurturing his growing passion instead of rushing it. He kneaded with ten happy fingers, kneaded Kay's flesh like dough as the nipples protruded even further. But the restful orientation of love-play could not last long. Jason freed Kay's breasts. She moved back. A chill coursed across her breasts. She missed the heat and protection of her uncle's hands.
Jason smiled. He brought his hands to Kay's shoulders and gently urged her off his lap.
"Oh, Uncle," she said, "You are such such a good man."
"And you are such a dutiful and lovely niece," he replied.
She looked around in the direction of the door. "Are you going to carry me upstairs as you did when I was a little girl?"
His smile grew reminiscent, but he said, "No, my girl, who will always be a little girl. Upstairs seems quite too long a journey for this old uncle at the moment."
She laughed, then moved to replace herself more firmly on his lap and in a position that allowed her to face him.
His grip upon her shoulders tightened. "I thought that we perhaps we could have something ... different. We're to be separated for a while. It seems right that we should be different."
Kay knew the meaning of his words. Just as she had learned his wishes, his reflexes, she had also learned the implications of his words.
Moving with the urging of Jason's hands, Kay moved from his lap to the floor and rested on her knees in front of him. Then she raised, her naked breasts pointing to a place between his knees. She slightly raised, hunched forward, and for a few furious minutes brushed her breasts hard against the extension of him, heightening and hardening him as if she were a drug that gave him greater and immediate vitality.
But again Jason stopped her actions. Now he leaned back, lifted his hands from her shoulders to tangle in her hair.
For the barest moment, Kay looked into her uncle's eyes. The conditioning of unity, family superiority, the years of practice and coaching and the experiences of hundreds of episodes, all gathered together in that single look before Jason's hands urged her downward.
"You don't mind, do you, darling?" he wheezed. "You don't mind ... this way ... this time."
"I don't mind, Uncle," she responded. "I've never minded nor ever will mind. You ... taught me."
"Yes," he replied, slumping a little deeper into the chair in order to arch his hips a bit upward.
First, Kay gripped him at the base with her hand. She pointed him. And then, rather than enveloping him in a sudden, downward motion, she slithered her lips upon him, held him for a few seconds, then pressed downward as far as she could go.
Jason moaned erotically. And Kay was upon him again and again, each downward motion taking her deeper, causing a greater chatter of her teeth and lips, a moister consumption of her uncle. Jason helped her effort, bounded his hips from the edge of the chair and worked his fingers into a greater tangle in her hair. Kay brought uniqueness to her act. Her head twirled in a mad circle and she shook her head from side to side, worrying all that she held, heating and heightening her own emotions as much as those of her uncle. But soon she brought a pause to the action. It was a pause that called forth even greater eroticism.
Kay pulled completely away from Jason, releasing him. She was breathing very hard. She rested her arms on his knees and looked up at him. Beads of perspiration dotted her forehead and they were miniatures of the larger bubbles of moisture that were on and around her lips.
Jason rested, too. But his eyes remained alert, obviously anticipating his niece's next move. When she gave it, it represented a delightful change of pace, was soothing and meant for that effect before she would again raise him and finally release him in a blaze of incessant motion.
Slowly, Kay regripped her uncle with her right hand. Again, she pointed him, directing him from his deep base. Then she lowered, but not atop him. She brought her lips to where her hand held him. Then, she spanked him with her sharp tongue, moving up and down the length of him, around him, down again, up again, all the time working her tongue hard across him, gifting him with new sensations.
Kay worked up and down him scores of times and had successfully touched all of him before bringing the caresses of her tongue to a halt. The halt was only momentary. Then she plunged upon him again and moved up and down in a motion that suggested finality. She did not slow her downward-upward action, but she did add novelty to the action. She brought both her hands beneath the heaviness of him and held him gently as she tortured him to his end.
Kay did not turn away from the heavy surge that came to her. She made it her own and continued moving, seeking even more of her uncle's final giving. And she drew the very last from him while he panted heady sounds, while her own breathing found a pitch, then lessened and grew silent.
Kay remained cuddled to her uncle's lap for a long time. She wondered why the excitement of love with her uncle had dimmed, why its satisfaction seemed less because of her anticipation for the many things that awaited her during spring vacation at Fort Bixdale. Perhaps there, she thought, with new people, with the safety of geography between herself and Jason, she would learn something of the mysteries of herself. Perhaps even learn of love. Perhaps...?