I suppose most of my relatives think I'm a little weird, but photographers and writers are like that. Everyone knows I'm a photographer. I mean, that's my job. But nobody in the family knows I write porn. That's a hobby I'll keep to myself.
I'm twenty eight and single by choice. I've had lots of men, and a few women, show interest in me. I choose to ignore them, at least for long-term relationships. I'm having too much fun living by myself in an old farmhouse I inherited. The closest neighbors are over the next hill in all four directions.
Every now and then a man catches my attention and I think maybe this is the one I could live with. Then something happens that reminds me that relationships are hard. Somebody always loves a little more.
Family members can be like that, too. You see too much of each other and, eventually, your differences come to the surface and you split apart again, kind of like two magnets that are pushing against each other. Other family members you are totally comfortable with, as long as they don't stay too long.
My favorite relative has always been my nephew Mike. He's my oldest sister's oldest son. He's eighteen now. With only ten years between us I think he was naturally attracted to me when the family got together because we could each relate to certain things, like music. Maybe he saw me as the sister he never had. I don't know. In any case, we always got along great.
He was probably fifteen or sixteen when I began to see him as a young man. Mike was tall and thin, but it was at that age that his body began to fill out and I noticed it more and more. I have an in-ground pool in the back yard and when my sister and her family came over to use it, it was Mike I paid the most attention to.
Then he started playing sports in high school and lifting weights and I had my first truly sexual thoughts about Mike. He never gave any indication of thinking of me in the same way. I assumed I would always just be Aunt Traci to him. In reality, we had never spent time alone and, therefore, never had a chance to talk to each other without others around. Once we did, all hell broke loose.
Mike is a cyclist. His high school had a team that wasn't sanctioned; it was just a club that formed among the guys and a teacher volunteered to coach them. Mike really got into it. He began to ride in organized tours on the weekends and often did sixty to one hundred mile rides. Now that he has graduated, he does it on his own whenever he gets the chance.
Living out in the country as I do it is not uncommon to see groups of riders go past my house, as I did on a particularly warm Saturday morning in May. I was working in the yard in a tank top with no bra and jogging shorts, a fairly standard outfit for me on the weekends. The wind was picking up and my wavy brown hair must have looked a mess between being blown and a little perspiration mixed in.
I was at the side of the house closest to the driveway when I thought I heard someone, or something, approaching. I looked up to see a bike coming to a screeching halt a few feet away. Behind the sunglasses and under the helmet was Mike's tanned face.
"Hey," I said as I stood up and he unclipped his shoes and dismounted.
"Hi, Traci! Bet you weren't expecting me."
I used both hands to try to put my hair back in place.
"Nope. It's a nice surprise, Mike."
I unconsciously let my eyes scan him from head to toe, attired in a body hugging jersey and spandex shorts. His legs were really filling out nicely and his... Oh, well, I tried not to stare.
"We're doing a sixty five mile ride today," he said, taking a long drink of water before continuing. "It's the first really hot ride of the year. We'll be going through lots of water."
"C'mon inside and I'll refill those bottles," I offered.
He pulled a second water bottle out of its holder and followed me inside.
"How's your Mom?" I asked.
"She's fine. Doing the same old stuff."
We entered through the back door and went into the kitchen. I took the bottles and filled them with cold water. When I turned to hand them back I might have caught him gazing at my chest, as I had bent forward to turn off the faucet. I began to feel strangely aroused simply being in the same room alone with Mike.
"Thanks. I'll need these later," he said, taking the bottles.
"Do you want to use the bathroom or grab a towel to cool off?"
His jersey was unzipped more than halfway down his chest and I saw the sweat rolling down his skin. Mike had removed his sunglasses and put them in the back pocket of the jersey. His face was red from the sun and perspiration gathered on his brow. He wiped it off with the back of his gloved hand.
"No, I'm fine. I'll only stay a minute. Just wanted to say 'Hi' since we were passing the house."
"I'm glad you did," I said.
He took off his helmet and laid it on the counter along with the water bottles. Then, without warning, he sprayed my chest with one of the bottles. I swiveled away from him, but not before a stream of water crossed my tank top right at the breasts.
"Hey!" I screamed and then laughed.
I wiped the top but the damage was done. It was nearly see-through wherever the water struck it. I faced Mike again and he openly stared at me with a smile. One nipple was plainly visible, along with a good portion of the flesh around it.
"Sorry. My hand slipped," he said.
"Yeah, right. Pretty good aim for an accident."
"You shouldn't wear such revealing clothing, Traci. Guests may show up out of nowhere."
"And spray me with water bottles?" I said sarcastically.
"You never know."
I stepped closer to him and said, "Is my clothing any more revealing than yours?"
I made sure he saw me staring at his crotch.
"There's a purpose to everything I have on," he said.
"And what's that? To turn on your aunt?"
I pulled the zipper of his jersey all the way down and ran my fingernails up his bare chest, lingering around his nipples. I grabbed the bottom of the jersey and lifted it, the tight fit and moisture combining to make it a tougher removal than I anticipated. Mike was grinning when I was done.
"I could have warned you about that," he said. "I bet yours would come off easier."
"I bet you won't find out," I said, tracing the outline of his breast with my finger.
I was standing so close we were almost touching. I moved my hands down to his abs and waist. I slid them down his hips. Very deliberately I made my way to his crotch, finally skimming my fingers up the length of his cock and back onto his stomach.
"This isn't fair," he murmured.
"I gave you water," I said. "This is my payment."
Our mouths and bodies came together. I could feel his cock press against me as we kissed. Our tongues met and his hands moved onto the top of my shorts in back. The longer and harder we kissed the lower his hands got until he was squeezing the cheeks of my ass through my shorts and I was grinding my pussy onto his cock. I moaned when Mike brought his hands to my chest and I gave him just enough room to knead my tits through the damp top. I touched his cock. It was hard.
I was the one who backed away first. I couldn't look at his face.
"I'm so sorry, Mike. I...I...I'm sorry."
"Don't be, Traci. I shouldn't have come here. I better get going."
He hurriedly put on the jersey, grabbed his helmet and water, and nearly ran out the back door. I cried. I cried out of shame and fear. Fear that I might have lost him because of a stupid moment of lust that had built up over the years.
My fears were groundless. Later that night I received a text message from Mike. It read: 'Don't be mad.' There was a photo attached. Mike was naked and his cock was rock hard, pointing out like a rod. I stared at the long, thick shaft until my pussy was soaking wet.
It took forever to get to sleep that night. My heart raced at the possible meaning, or consequence, of Mike's text. Obviously, he wanted to continue what we started that morning. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't even sure what I wanted. He was my goddamn nephew, but I think I wanted to fuck him more than any man I'd ever known. Still...my sister's son?
I was awoken mid-morning on Sunday by my cellphone ringing. I looked at the screen. It was Mike.
"Hello."
"Hi, Traci. This is Mike."
