As I write this, Molly is dozing on a large double bed in a hotel where we're not known in a city we've never seen before. She is as beautiful as ever; her lovely features are lightly veiled by her soft copper-red hair, which is now a little lighter than I remember. She is deep in sleep, and her eyes are moving under their lids. I wonder if she is dreaming of me, and in particular if she is reliving last night.
It's the first time we've been together in years, and, after all this time, I know the reason why. I also know that love can last despite longing and heartache and the heavy burden of family history. Our plane leaves in the morning.
***
Needless to say, after the first time I made love to my gorgeous niece, I was not about to stop. We spent the rest of that week finding ingenious ways to avoid the rest of the family so we could indulge our mutual lust.
The night before we all had to go home, Molly and I both stole away from our campsites and met on the beach. A soft half moon cast a white glow over the pines, and waves gurgled gently along the shore. Close to midnight, and I waited on my blanket, praying she could get away.
"Uncle Bert?"
"Darling."
Silhouetted against the moon, for a moment she appeared to be an angel of love, her trim figure outlined against the stars in the sky. Dropping next to me, she wore a tight sweater that emphasized every curve, and a long billowing white skirt that gave her an ethereal quality as it billowed in the warm ocean breeze. Now she fit naturally in my arms, our kisses fraught with longing, for we did not know when next we would meet.
Our tongues met, and Molly's fingers danced along the crowbar in my crotch.
"Uncle Bert," she said, "will it ever be this good again?"
I pulled her close and kissed her again. My hands slipped under the sweater and found her warm, firm breasts.
"No bra."
"No panties either. We don't have much time."
Molly's deft fingers pulled my zipper down and unbuttoned my shorts, exposing my long, hungry prick to the warm night air. I lifted her skirt and found her bush, already damp. We lay on the blanket, kissed and masturbated each other for the longest time, always with an ear out for passersby, and especially familiar voices.
Our lips parted and Molly rolled me onto my back.
"Let's make this count, Uncle Bert," she whispered, straddling me. "I have to be back soon."
I grasped my prick and pointed it straight up. Little drops of pussy dew landed on me, rolled down my balls. My cockhead slipped between her pussy lips and slowly she slid down my shaft, sighing with pleasure, her skirt spread across the blanket.
"My God, Molly," I sighed as she leaned forward to kiss me and give me room to move.
As the skirt was in the way, I could not masturbate her, so I lifted her sweater and nibbled her breasts as she bounced on my turgid prick.
"I'm close!" she whispered.
"Let-- me-- know!" I gasped, shoving myself into her as far as I could.
But her little cries and gasps told me exactly where she was, and then she rose to her full height, her head thrashing to and fro. I managed to get my thumb to her clit and that triggered her climax.
"Uncle Bert! Uncle Bert!" she cried.
"Molly! Oh, Molly!"
I then let my balls go, my cock spouting like a volcano. Molly fell onto me and squeezed my shaft with her cunt, as if it were a toothpaste tube. I yelped in surprise, and she started laughing, a sound like a little silver bell.
That was the last I saw of her for a long time, and it's one of my fondest memories, loving and laughing with my niece on the soft sand, holding her close as my prick shrank inside her.
We disengaged reluctantly. We rose, held each other for a while, and then a parting kiss.
"Goodbye, Uncle Bert," she said. "Maybe I can be home for Christmas."
"You're just what I want," I replied. "I especially look forward to unwrapping you."
She smiled, and disappeared into the dark trees.
We shared a lot of passionate correspondence for a month after that, and then it stopped abruptly. My heart was crushed, but when my brother cut me off too, I assumed that somehow word of our affair leaked, and that was that. Not that he didn't have a dark little secret on his conscience, but more on that later.
Last night, Molly told me what had happened.
***
At my brother Bart's house, the family computer is in the den. Molly was using it one night when one of her friends called, and while she was talking it went into hibernation. Molly forgot to come back, close her account, and log off.
So when Bart sat down to get a look at his own e-mail, what he saw was a long, passionate letter to his daughter from her loving Uncle Bert. He printed it, and took it downstairs to the living room, where Molly was watching TV. Without a word, he handed it to her.
Molly blushed to the marrow.
"It's true? You've been fucking my brother?"
"Don’t call it that! It's love! He loves me!"
"I'll bet he does. I can't believe this. That guy will stick his dick into anything warm."
