Eighteen and still gawky, skinny Liz hated her body. The boys wouldn't talk to her, she had no date for her senior prom. She turned to the only man who could understand, her uncle Paul.
I.
Elizabeth Joy hated her own body, And worse, she hated her long face, its crescent moon interrupted by a nose twice broken by disrespectful horses on her daddy's hobby farm. She firmly believed herself to be unattractive, perhaps even ugly.
Others, particularly her uncle Paul would vehemently disagree.
Liz possessed one of those amazing wiry physiques, and while she appeared too thin, her toned muscles rippled quietly under her tanned skin. She had no breasts to speak of, but her backside was more than amazing, twin globes set high on taut thighs, the hips curvaceous if not full. Liz effortlessly and unconsciously moved with incredible grace and athleticism. Her face had character, and Paul loved it for its unusual features. Her deep brown eyes were constantly involved with the world in their view, yet could snap to focus on his eyes like a plug into a socket. Her smile was broad and inviting, not too much lip, teeth just imperfect enough to be sexy. He had always thought she was beautiful, but Elizabeth Joy didn't think so.
She had chosen her male companions badly during her early dating years, and lost even those because of her unwillingness to go all the way with them. A few had convinced her to give head, one had clumsily attempted to rape her ass. She had cried to Paul after the brutalization, and he had quietly straightened the punk's shit out. Lizzie never knew, but the story around the small Midwestern high school spread quickly, and Lizzie soon found that very few of the boys were even willing to talk to her. The story of Paul's brief and intense encounter with the would-be ass rapist got translated in young male minds as, "Have anything to do with Liz, get hurt." Happily the story never reached her ears but sadly, Liz misinterpreted the lack of attention from the boys to be for reason of her ugliness.
The final blow to her tender heart came during early May of her senior year. She had been shunned by all the eligible guys at her school and had no date for her senior prom.
Lizzie's parents were out of town for prom weekend, and Liz had dreamed and prayed that she'd have a hot date, but none was forthcoming. She called him, her surrogate Dad, her wise older friend.
Paul had20 years nearly to the day on her.Paunchy from a desk job and lack of willpower to maintain an exercise regimen, Paul was nonetheless youthful, his beaming round face belying his years. He had always been easy to talk with, a wise and careful listener who allowed the spaces between her often shy words to gently breathe, speaking only when he sensed she could at last no longer come up with anything else to say.
Now she dialed, her elegant slender finger hesitating as it keyed the buttons. He answered on the third ring.
"Uncle Paul?" He heard the tremor in her voice. "Uh....I um...don't have a date for prom tonight, and uh...you wanna come over?"
Paul hesitated a moment. He knew that his sister and her husband were gone for the weekend. His long-hidden desires now made him question the wisdom of placing himself in a position where his fantasies might come true. As he watched Elizabeth grow through her teenage years, he had begun to fantasize about taking her into his arms and loving her, his own blood.
"We could maybe order a pizza or....?" Her young voice was now straining to hold back a sob, which cloyed and pulled at the back of her throat .
Sensing her emotions, Paul quickly and cheerfully agreed to come over.
Paul carefully shaved in the shower and put on just a dab of his favorite cologne. He brushed his teeth, trembling for reasons he couldn't quite define. He felt like a nervous high school boy on prom night. It was her prom night, a missed debut. He knew he was responding to his niece's desire for comfort and company,but he also knew that he himself was eagerly looking forward to being with her. He wondered if she craved a substitute for her missed prom date, the necking, the fumbling...maybe even the fucking. Dare he hope? What would his family do if they found out? Could he go through with the seduction of his baby sister's only child?
He arrived at the hobby farm less than an hour after her phone call. He had dressed in a smart suit and tie, his shoes polished to black mirrors. To his delight, Liz was dressed in an ankle-length formal gown. Elegant high heel shoes lifted her to within an inch of her uncle's height. She had carefully coiffed her waist-length calico hair and had applied tasteful makeup. As he bent to kiss her cheek, he caught a whiff of her seductive perfume and chuckled. "Look at us. You're dressed for the prom, and I'm dressed to be a chaperone." Her brilliant easy smile suddenly vanished and her eyes filled with tears. Her strong shoulders drooped as her eyes left his to stare at the floor. The weeping began softly, but then she fell into his arms sobbing. He gently led her inside the large farmhouse and steadied her by her firm biceps. She weakly smiled through her tears into his eyes, then moved gracefully to a large sofa. She beckoned him to sit beside her, then began to collect herself, an elegant hand lifting tissue to her remarkable nose.
"Lizzie, I know I might not be your first choice for a prom date, but will I do as a substitute?" Paul immediately regretted the question, as Liz began to weep anew.
For the next twenty minutes, she poured out her story of sadness, how she felt all the boys thought her ugly, how she hadn't had a date since that awful night when Mark whats-his-name tried brutally to invade her tender teenage ass.
Paul was nearly dumbstruck. He hadn't thought that the boy would spill the story to his friends, counting on pride to keep the story quiet. Paul quickly realized that she had been shunned because of his meddling. He sighed broadly.
"Liz, I swear I never meant to hurt you," he began. He confessed to whipping little Markie's ass, thus starting a rumor that she was untouchable, if one cared to remain healthy. "So it was me who fucked your social life, not any lack of beauty. Which by the way, you don't lack. I've always thought you were lovely."
She dismissed his compliment with a flip of her hand. "I am not. You're just saying that because you don't want me to be mad at you for turning me into a social pariah. But seriously, thanks for dealing with Mark. He almost hurt my ass really bad. Jeez, why would anyone want to fuck my ass?"
Paul grinned. "Because it's the single finest ass in this county, darling niece."
She stared at him. "People actually do the anal thing?"
