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Mark and his brother Sam had a great time catching up on the past three years during the drive from the airport. Mark told Sam about his overseas wanderings, and Sam filled Mark in about the family: his wife Jen and their only daughter Valentina, who had just turned sixteen. Visiting Sam and his family was always a great way to come back from a journey, and Mark had made it a tradition for the past decade to weather his jet lag at his brother's suburban home. Although they were brothers, the two of them did not look much alike. Sam was light-haired and round of face, while Mark was dark-haired and rugged, with a perpetual shadow of stubble on his angular jaw. They swung into Sam's driveway and Mark gazed with a measure of envy at the fruits of Sam's success. The house was large and gorgeous. As usual, a voice in Mark asked him, "What are you doing wandering the globe? Wouldn't it be better to just settle down and have a place like this to call home?" He got out of the car and hefted his travel pack over one shoulder. He was dressed in a grey V-neck tee shirt that clung to his trim, athletic frame; and cargo shorts and sandals. The uniform of the bum. But at least he was a handsome bum and could pull it off. Inside, Jen, tall and blonde and gorgeous as always, gave Mark a hug and a peck on the cheek and ushered him inside to the spacious, designer living room. He had been sitting almost nonstop for the past thirteen hours, so Mark decided to remain standing while exchanging the usual pleasantries. Then Jen called out, "Valentina, your uncle is here!" Footsteps descended the stairs and Mark turned, smiling in anticipation of seeing Val again. He last saw her at thirteen and knew then that she would turn into a knockout in short order. At the time, her mother was bragging about an amateur modeling competition that her daughter had won. Mark hadn't been surprised. But down the stairs came a goddess in the flesh. A seed had sprouted in Valentina. The trim, gymnast body that Mark remembered had blossomed into something uncanny. She had her long, copper-red hair done up in an artfully messy bun. Her face was a portrait artist's dream: all the beauty and vitality of youth with that subtle edge of hidden carnal knowledge that divided young ladies from mere girls. She wore a black tank top with a cartoonish white skull on it, and the tank top held a set of the most gorgeous breasts that Mark, in that moment, confessed to himself he'd ever seen. The lusty ape in his brain, after flashing him an image of them uncovered, tried to compute what her bra size must be. Given her frame — 30, 32 max, and bigger than double-D to be sure. F maybe? Hell, what did it matter? The tank top wasn't designed to be particularly revealing but it seemed to be too small on Valentina, and so a bit more of her cleavage than Mark was comfortable with was on display. Under the tank was a black-strapped bra that helped keep everything in check. She'd put on a few pounds over the rest of her body to compensate for her incredible bust, gaining some beautiful curvy hips, but still her abdomen was trim, her legs shapely below a pair of pink denim shorts. "Uncle Mark!" she cried and bounded towards him with a billiant smile, arms thrown open, tits jiggling brazenly. Mark received her in a warm embrace. "Oh, my!" he said, chuckling. "Is that Val? Oof! No, you're an impostor!" He took her by the shoulders and shook her playfully. "What have you done with that little girl I used to know?" Val giggled and held onto Mark's forearms. "Nothing!" she protested. "It's just me!" "Well you sure have grown," Mark said, and he considered the fact that he was able to maintain strict eye contact one of the greatest victories of his life. Jen went off to get some drinks. Mark noticed a certain subtle sourness in her expression. Envy, perhaps? He, Val and Sam started chatting, and Jen returned with a tray. Mark glanced at Jen's blouse and the relative dearth underneath. Maybe Val's tits were one of those things that skipped a generation. Mark didn't think it came from his side of the family, at any rate. The four of them chatted and got caught up. The bulk of the conversation was about Mark's travels to southeast Asia. He brought out his iPad and shared some photos of the beautiful places he'd visited: ancient temples, deep forests, colourful cities and towns, stretches of gorgeous tropical beaches. One of the photos was of him on such a beach in the evening with his arms around two lovely Tahitian ladies, one with long unbound hair and the other with her hair done up elaborately and decorated with shells. Both wore floral patterened red sarongs — below the waist only. The one with the unbound hair sported a pair of big breasts, slightly upturned with full, dusky areolas. The other was more flat-chested. Everyone in the picture was genuinely happy. "Whoops," Mark said, forgetting that that picture was in there, and he swiped it away. Val's eyes were wide and she struggled to suppress a grin. "Mark, you old dog," Sam said amiably to diffuse the momentary awkwardness, and punched his brother in the arm. Jen's expression was unreadable. "You always manage to find a couple, don't you?" Sam added. "Ah, well, you know," Mark said, blushing. "The natives are a lot freer about that kind of thing. Anyways, it was an incredible trip. And I've brought presents!" Val scooched closer to her uncle on the sofa, bubbling with anticipation. This had always been the highlight of Mark's visits. The little trinkets he would give her would always be a hit at show-and-tell, and then when she got older as fashion accessories among her friends. Mark gave a bottle of some tropical liquor to Sam, some perfume to Jen, and to Val he gave a small fire opal with a silver snake coiled around it, all on a thin silver chain for a necklace. "It's supposed to bring vitality and strength to the wearer," Mark explained as Val marveled at it. Then, on impulse, "Here, let me put it on you." Val smiled and turned her back to him to let him decorate her. The opal touched the top of her cleavage as Mark fastened the clasp below the whispy hairs at the nape of his sixteen year old niece's neck. "There," he said, and allowed himself the briefest of glances down Val's top, to barely make out the cups of her bra holding her breasts up like an offering. He hoped Jen had not noticed. "Let me see." Val turned back around. "Looks great on you." Dinner was pleasant as it always was. The only difference that Mark noticed was that Val had decided to sit next to him at the table. He felt her bare foot cautiously nudge up against the side of his. He did not flinch it away, but neither did he make anything of it, simply allowing his niece to do whatever it was that she felt like doing. She laughed at his stories and leaned into his shoulder briefly. Mark reciprocated with an equally brief one-armed embrace that did not interrupt the rhythm of his story. Sam didn't seem to care, but there was a strange expression on Jen's face and she eyed her daughter a little longer than usual. A wave of fatigue overcame Mark and he soon excused himself, saying that he'd turn in early and get a good rest. He took his bag up to the second floor guest room, across the hall from Val, stripped down to his boxers and was asleep soon after his head hit the pillow. In the stillness of the night after Sam and Jen had gone to bed, Val, dressed in a long nightshirt and cotton shorts, with her hair still in a bun, crept out of her room and carefully eased open the door to her uncle Mark's room. She paused to listen to his deep breathing and then tiptoed in. Mark's iPad was on the night table, and she took it and pulled the door to behind her. Clutching the treasure to her bosom, she crept back into her room and shut the door. She went straight for his travel photos and found the picture of the two topless women. In her dimly lit room she lay on her front on her bed with her feet waving in the air, snooping her uncle's files. She grinned at the sight of her uncle, rugged and handsome, between the two island beauties. She swiped through the pictures but that was the only one of them — in that folder, at least. She quickly found another folder and beheld a whole series of photos of her uncle with the women, laughing and playing with them on the beach. In one shot he'd picked the smaller breasted one up in his arms and was sucking on her small bud while the other woman laughed. In another, the large breasted one was unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the broad planes of his pectorals. Who was taking the photos? In the folder there was a video. Val wet her dry lips and with a trembling finger opened it. The video began right in the middle of Uncle Mark having sex with the big breasted one in a hotel room. It was a POV shot with Mark holding the camera. Heavy breathing and sighs of pleasure suddenly filled Val's room and, panicking, she stabbed the mute icon on the screen. She waited for the thudding of her heart in her chest to subside and the sounds of the silent house to reassert themselves, dreading the sound of her parents' door opening. But the sound didn't come. Val grabbed her earbuds and plugged them in. It wasn't as though Val had never watched a porn flick before, but this was her Uncle's body she was seeing, as though through his eyes. She looked down the firm, hilly landscape of Mark's abdomen to the sex act in all its gory detail: Mark's thick, pale cock sliding in and out of the copper-skinned woman, spreading her dark folds between wide-open thighs, and everything glistening with moisture. Mark panned the camera up to show the woman's face and her breasts bouncing rhythmically beneath. Val listened to the sound of her uncle panting and groaning with pleasure and the woman reciprocating, mewling in her native tongue. Before she knew what she was doing, Val found her own ass hiked up in the air, and her hand between her legs, stroking herself through her shorts. She paused. Then, with guilty pleasure, resumed. Mark spoke to the woman in a low, sultry tone, and the woman smiled, closed her eyes and giggled. The image was chaotic as Mark handed the camera over to the woman, who filmed everything from her point of view. The lamplight of the hotel room cast shadows over Mark's muscular torso, emphasizing his physique, all framed between the woman's soft, wide-open thighs. Uncle Mark's Adonis belt was plain as day and plunged down to the root of his cock, which sported a trimmed bush. The rest of his manhood was hidden behind the woman's mound. Mark thrust and thrust, and the woman's belly rocked softly. With barely an ounce of fat on it, Mark's abdomen was firm and unyielding. He picked up the pace, groaning with rising pleasure. The woman tilted the camera up to capture Mark's face. Val felt something surge through her body and she stopped her vigorous rubbing of her own sex. How handsome he was. But how wrong it was for her to be doing this. "Fuck it," she thought, and went for broke, biting her lower lip to contain her own moans. The camera work got shaky as Mark pounded out the rest of his lust into the woman. Finally with an animal's groan he slammed himself deep, paused, then tore himself from the woman and shot his load all over her mound and belly. Overcome with lust herself, Val moved to lie on her back. She rewound the clip about two minutes to where the woman's POV shot began, flipped her nightshirt up to just below her breasts and set the iPad down on her stomach, supporting it there with her hand, and she spread her thighs and shoved her other hand down her shorts. The perspective wasn't perfect but it would have to do. Val fingered herself hard and fast and rocked her body back and forth on her bed in time with Mark's thrusts in the movie, whispering lustfully. "Unnh. Unnh. Oooh. Ooh yeah, that feels good." Her big breasts wobbled beneath her nightshirt and her nipples pressed against the fabric. "Mmmm. Fuck me. Fuck me like that." Her thighs began to tremble and breathlessly she pounded two fingers in and out of herself and ground the palm of her hand on her clit hood. She knew what was coming. "Fuck me, Uncle Mark," she dared to whisper. "Cum all over me, baby!" Uncle Mark in the video obeyed. Val crept back into Mark's room, a little clumsier than before on her weak knees. She set the iPad back down on the night table and stood there, looking at her uncle's sleeping form. He slept on his back with his head slightly turned away. His breathing was deep, on the verge of snoring. Val carefully leaned over him, then checked over her shoulder to make sure no one was at the door. Then she pulled up her night shirt, exposing her uncanny breasts to the unconscious man. Her dollar-sized areolas were pale rose, her nipples stiff. She rocked back and forth on her feet, making her breasts sway gently just inches from Mark's face. "Aah, aah," she whispered, like a porn star but even softer than in her own room. Then, Mark snorted and flinched, and Val bolted from the room like a gazelle to dive under the covers in her own room and wait for sleep to take her. senorsmut [1 comment]