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Winnie

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When my kid brother died, I inherited his daughter. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the kid. She had all the good attributes of both of her parents; her mother was incredibly beautiful. Even though Winnie was pretty much a stick at thirteen, she showed signs of being just as pretty, once she filled out. And she had my kid brother’s smile and up-beat attitude. She would need it now. I was all she had. My wife had left me over a year ago, and the one kid we had still at home went with her. She had no desire to stay in the suburbs, so she got an apartment in a fashionable area downtown and left me the house and the mortgage. I have no idea why I kept it, it was way more house, and mortgage, than I needed. I guess I was tired of change. I kept telling myself I’d sell it next year. My ex and I talked about Winnie moving in with her. My daughter was close to her age, and lord knows that Deb would be a better parent to her than me. But Deb wasn’t interested. I couldn’t blame her; it was my brother, not hers. So here we were, a very injured young girl and a very angry man that had never expected to be single again at this point in my life. After we settled into a routine, I realized that Winnie was the best thing that could have happened to me. It gave me a reason to go home after work. A reason to get up in the morning. She was always whistling and talking, and generally being cheerful. I enjoyed cooking for her and just having someone else around. She seemed to fit in well at school and made friends easily. My brother had left a little money plus a life insurance policy, so she wasn’t a burden financially. Then suddenly things changed. She went through a very dark period. We had already arranged a lot of counseling for her, and now she began seeing her counselor more often. She lost her smile. Often I would wake to find she had crept into my bed in the middle of the night. The counselor said it was likely she was afraid that I would disappear, as her parents had. She also said that the dark period was good, that Winnie was finally allowing herself to go through the grieving she needed to do. Initially, she had been in denial. The problems started when she began driving. She missed curfew often, and I knew that she was smoking cigarettes, even though she denied it. The friends that came around weren’t very respectful. I should have put my foot down, but I guess I felt sorry for the kid, and a little out of my league. Deb had always been the disciplinarian. We had three daughters, and I guess I hadn’t done my share of the parenting. As she got older, the transgressions got more serious. Once, when she was eighteen, she came home very drunk. She had gone out with her girlfriends, and they apparently dropped her on the porch and left. The ruckus she made trying to sneak into her room woke me. The next morning we had our biggest argument ever. I tried to explain how vulnerable she could be when drunk like that. She promised not to go out drinking again. Her grades weren’t good enough to earn her admission to a top college, and certainly not good enough for a scholarship. To save money, escort and give her a better chance at graduating, I insisted on having her stay at home and attend community college for at least one year. It was far cheaper than paying for a dorm and sending her away, where there would be more distractions. She was very unhappy. “My real dad left me money to take care of college! That was MY money, not yours. I want to move out and go to school, like all my friends.” “Until you’re twenty five, I’m in control of your money, and the best use of it, in my opinion, is to attend one year of junior college.” Relations between us were frosty for months. She wasn’t doing very well her first year in college. She was more and more rebellious, and it was no longer a pleasure having her in the house. I knew she was drinking; I was scared to death that she would drink and drive one night, and get in trouble. Things came to a head one night when her girlfriends picked her up to go out, and once again dropped her off dead drunk. This time, she didn’t even get into the house. The doorbell rang, and when I answered the door they were driving off, while Winnie was in a heap on the porch. I picked her up and half carried her, half dragged her into her bedroom. She reeked of cigarettes and alcohol. Entering her room, I flipped on the light and dropped her on her bed. I went around and turned down the sheets, then went back and pulled her all the way up onto her bed. As I pulled off her heels, I noticed that her short skirt was bunched up around her waist, exposing her entirely. I stared for just a moment too long before averting my glance. My little niece had blossomed over the last two years. She was still thin, but had shapely legs. Her little pussy was barely covered by very skimpy panties. I hadn’t seen a girl’s panties in a long time, and I hadn’t seen such a slim, pretty girl in a very long time. I felt lecherous and uncomfortable with the thoughts running through my head. It had been a very long time since I had had sex. When I pulled Winnie up onto the head of the bed and put a pillow under her head, I assessed her. She was extremely pretty, just like her worthless mother, who had left when she was less than two. She had long, blond hair, blue eyes and beautiful skin. Her little titties weren’t large, but she had stiff nipples that were poking through her sheer top. She obviously wasn’t wearing a bra. I laid in my bed for a long time, unable to sleep. Finally I got up, grabbed a wash cloth and lay back down. I slipped off my boxers and lay on my back, caressing my sac. My dick was raging hard as I replayed the image of my niece’s skirt wrapped around her waist, her panties exposed to my view. I wasn’t proud of the thoughts running through my mind, as I stroked my hard dick. Images of Winnie’s tender young body, flexing in lascivious positions as I watched. Slowly sliding her panties down and bending over, inviting me to grab her waist and take her from behind. Taking off her top and showing me her tiny titties, inviting me to suck them. If she hadn’t accidentally exposed bayan escort herself, I never would have had these thoughts. I thought of her as my own daughter, and never would do anything to hurt her. But I couldn’t help the fact that my dick needed attention, and I couldn’t drive the images out of my mind. I prolonged my pleasure, stopping whenever I felt an impending climax, continuing to relish in the mental images of her beautiful body, until I could last no longer. My balls began to tingle, and an overpowering orgasm washed over me. I caught most of my sperm in the washcloth, but some spattered on my belly. I lay still for a while enjoying the last sensations of my climax, then wiped up and put my boxers on. Now I was able to sleep. Winnie slept late the next morning, and looked terrible when she finally did get up. I’m sure she had absolutely no recollection of the previous evening, and I decided to wait to discuss it until she felt better. She stayed in all day, going to bed early. The following day she was back to normal, and I decided to have a discussion with her. I rehearsed what I was going to say, calmly and without emotion. But it escalated into a shouting match, the worst argument we had ever had, finally culminating in an obscenity laced tirade by Winnie. “You’re not my real fucking dad. Why don’t you just give me my fucking money, and I’ll get out of your hair forever. Jesus Christ, it’s easy to see why your own fucking family couldn’t stand to live with you. I wouldn’t….” That’s as far as she got. Something just snapped, and I almost was unaware of what I was doing, I was so angry. I grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her to me, laid her over my knees and began spanking her hard. She was wearing nylon gym shorts, which provided absolutely no padding for the hard spanking I was giving her. They were very short, and I could see her panties through the leg holes. I whacked her butt with ferocity. All the anger and resentment I felt toward my family, who had left me, came out. All the bad behavior and disrespect I had taken from Winnie drove me to spank her as hard as I could. After twenty or so swats, I regained my senses. She had stopped resisting about halfway through and was screaming and bawling. I let go of her and sat there, trying to catch my breath. When I stopped slapping her, her screaming stopped, and her sobbing became quieter. Her shoulders shuddered as she continued to cry. Suddenly she turned her head and looked at me. Her face was inches from my crotch, and one of the biggest boners I’ve ever had was straining against my shorts. She looked into my eyes, then back at my crotch. I followed her quizzical gaze and couldn’t believe what I saw. I had had no idea that I had gotten hard. I jumped up, almost knocking her onto the floor. My face burned bright red and I stammered. “I…I…I…Winnie, are you all right?” “I’m okay,” she said softly. “Listen, I’m sorry. I snapped. You had no right to say those things, to talk like that. But I shouldn’t have spanked you. Forgive me.” “No, I was a bitch. You were right. Let’s just drop it, escort bayan okay?” “Okay, we can talk later, after we’ve cooled down.” I wanted nothing more than to get out of there, and it appeared she wanted the same. I couldn’t blame her. My cock had calmed down somewhat, but I still had a noticeable bulge in my shorts. I felt incredible shame and embarrassment. What could Winnie think of me? That I’m a lecherous old man? A sex offender? I couldn’t even think of what the term would be for something as slimy as me. Surely she can’t stay here, and after this display, I felt I’d be forced to let her have her money and leave, even though she was nowhere near mature enough. “Shit, shit, shit,” I thought to myself. “Why did I have to do that? Why did I get hard? Oh God, why am I so stupid? Damn, damn, damn.” I wanted to climb in a hole somewhere and die. How could I ever face her again? I couldn’t stop thinking about her looking at my erection, and I felt extreme shame every time I did. I finally decided to go out and do some yard work. It was hot out, but I couldn’t stay in the house with her any longer. I worked for a couple of hours, working up a sweat. I knew I’d have to go inside sometime, but tried to put it out of mind. “Maybe she’ll never want to mention it, and it’ll just blow over.” “Nah, fat chance. How can she forgive that. Someone who’s as much a dad to her as anybody in the world. God, how could I do that? Shit. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid.” I continued beating myself up all day, but it was approaching dinner time. Winnie sometimes went out with friends for dinner. Maybe I wouldn’t have to face her. “God, please, go out with your friends.” I did not want to face her. As dinner approached, she was still in her room. It appeared I was out of luck. “Why would she want to stay in for dinner tonight?” I thought. “After what happened today, I can’t believe she would ever want to see me again.” I grudgingly began preparing dinner and setting the table. At 6:15 I knocked on her door and told her dinner would be ready in fifteen minutes. Just like I did every other night. Just like nothing was different, even though she was now living with a sex offender. Or a pedophile. Or whatever is lower than a pedophile. She sat quietly as I served our plates. The silence was awkward, and I felt my face turning red again as I replayed that scene for the thousandth time today. “Look, Winnie,” I started. “No, let me say something, Uncle Bob. I’m really sorry I’ve been such a bitch. You don’t deserve it. You took me in when I had nobody else, and you’ve treated me like your own kid. I don’t know where I’d be without you. I’ll never talk to you like that again.” As she said this, she dropped her eyes to her plate, and tears were running down her face. I wanted to hold her, to hug her and wipe her tears away, but how could I touch her? How could she trust me to touch her. “Thanks, Winnie. I’m sorry you lost your dad. But I’m very happy you came into my life. It was a tough time for me, when you came. Having you here made it easier. Now let’s eat, okay.” “Okay,” she said, smiling. It appeared she was going to let it blow over. Thank God. That night I lay in bed, unable to sleep. I couldn’t get the image of her butt out of my mind. Looking up the legs of her shorts, seeing her perfect, tight little butt, covered by her blue panties.

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