Wife Stories: Kristen

Product Information

I WONDERED AT MY niece when she moaned in pleasure. How could washing her hair be almost orgasmic? Not that I minded. Staring at her sexy naked bottom with water and suds running down between sweet rounded cheeks was very arousing indeed.

I kissed her hair. Her words added to my arousal. Putting the mug of coffee down, I hugged her with both arms, inhaled her scent deeply and mentally sighed. Damn she was a sexy thing. "Yes. That would be very nice," I murmured. With a long training rope I led Kismet around in circles, her nostrils sending clouds of mist into the air. Michelle's mind wandered. A spark of excitement lit her up. That was it! Uncle Mitch missed having her in bed with him! It must be. Or . . . was she just imagining it? No! He missed her!!!The wind had diminished. Pristine white covered the landscape as far as the eye could see, the world blanketed in cotton. Snow still fell in large fluffy flakes gathering on Michelle's knit cap. Another peal of laughter echoed over the landscape when Dracula started rolling. Kevin muttered something about having work to do when Michelle gave him a big hug, but his eyes were slightly damp.

Dracula returned from doing his business outside bringing a slight chill when I opened the door for him. An icy cold nose butted into me before he was distracted by the sound of Michelle stirring. He took off, racing to the bedroom. Hugging her tight, she relaxed. Excitement had been too much for her. Ten minutes after warming, Michelle was sound asleep.I was very surprised when, the next time I opened my eyes, the dull gray light of morning filtered through the bedroom window. Snow covered the corners of frosted panes. Wind still gusted with surprising power rattling the glass. A sharp right threw me across the bench seat. A sudden stop almost had my face plastered to the clear polycarbonate divider. It was difficult to comprehend how erotic I now found this. I couldn't imagine anything sexier; a young girl fondling me and me groping her bare butt inside cotton panties. But sexier I found. A mouth encompassed my crown and edged down slightly. Her tongue caressed me. Her hand stroked. One cupped my balls. I felt slight suction on my crown and almost lost it, a wave of arousal cascading through me making me moan into her little pussy. Confusion assailed me. How could such a young girl know this? How could a ten-year-old be so skilled? I'd never felt anything so arousing. Now I understood my brother. This was incredible.

Nuh-uh," she said in a muffled voice, shaking her head again. "I'm not moving. I just started warming up." It still aroused me. Michelle was so delicate, so slender, so, so young, and she felt so damned good in my arms when I hugged her. Her compact ass was a marvel of eroticism. Those little buds emerging on her chest were a stunningly arousing development made even more sexy by their smallness, their immaturity. The onset of puberty was erotic and exciting. I found Michelle, a ten-year-old, sexier and more desirable than any of the women I'd been with or even lusted after. Clearly it had to be something in our family's genes. I had hundreds of questions. I had hours of thoughts collected inside that needed to be discussed. I had a desperate need to know. The truth taunted me in her pale green eyes; the truth about my brother's real self, about her mother, about Michelle, about sexual interference. Not asking was pure torture. Mentally shaking myself, I withdrew my hand from her tummy and gently extricated myself. "I need dessert. Want some?" I asked, rising. Brrrr! Cold!" she exclaimed, scooting to me, icy feet wiggling under my legs, a cold nose pressed to my side.The following is from Amy Bonnaffons' collection, The Wrong Heaven . The characters in The Wrong Heaven seek to solve their conflicts and dilemmas, both spiritual and sexual, in all the wrong places. Amy Bonnaffons' work has appeared in The New York Times , The Wall Street Journal , and The Kenyon Review , among others, and has been read on This American Life . She lives in Athens, GA, where she is working on a PhD. She looked up at me, pale olive green eyes studying me. I smiled. "Would you like to kiss me?" she asked. Instead, I sat quietly, Michelle gently squeezing my crotch every time my erection pulsed. I rubbed her breast bud with my thumb, a gentle and arousing caress, and mentally begged her to do more. She didn't.