Outside

"Hey Lex, don't be shy. The sun ain't gonna burn you now."

He was right. Evening was setting in, the cool summer evening you get less and less often the further south you go, smelling of country. Smelling a bit of cow shit too, but no one cuts the grass around here; it's a field, not a yard. So the cow shit was drowned out by the smell of grass growing, not shredded, and breeze blowing in from the hills.

Mari was doing her homework, Sheri and Derdre were out catting around, Mom and Dad were taking the opportunity of free babysitting to have a bit of alone time. Just me and Uncle Sam and Mike, and they were both outside, and I was inside wishing I didn't burn so easy.

"Come on Lexi, bring me a soda." Mike was ordering me around now. But I still brought him a soda anyway, stepped out into the gathering twilight. He was running around trying to catch fireflies, just dark enough that they lit up. Naked as the day he was born, his young body with no more baby fat, now a young man, the kind the Greeks would have worshipped. I saw Uncle Sam looking on with enjoyment, sitting in the grass with his back against a tree, naked too. I knew that Uncle Sam might not ever say anything, but he was enjoying watching his nephew in more ways than as an uncle.

"Sit down next to me, girlie," he said with a grin, and when he shifted to make room, my eyes fetched up on his cock, rock hard. He grinned. "Or maybe you'd like to sit down somewhere else?" He was giving me a hard time. It was the first time we'd visited his house since my first time, and for some reason I was feeling shy around him, in a way I never was before. Before, I had seen him make love with Mom, with Derdre, even with Palmer, and last visit with Sheri. I'd been fascinated then. Now that there was a possibility, it seemed strange somehow.

"Your dad tells me you're officially a woman," he said, not seeming to take offense at my reticence. "Tells me you've taken to it like a mare in heat, in fact."

"I guess so." I was simultaneously feeling like running away and moving closer. The two offset, so I kept standing right where I was, feeling the breeze on my body, looking at Uncle Sam without meeting his eye, feeling my arousal rise. He was right. I had taken to it.

"Come on, girlie, I won't bite," he said finally, with a small laugh. He spoke with a distinct twang that my father has lost, and he had that grin on his face that his younger brother describes as, "Sam's know-it-all grin."

So I sat. I'm not the outdoors type, really, and I'm not one to sit naked on grass under a tree. I worry about creepy crawly things. It's not comfortable. I don't even go barefoot outside most of the time. But I sat down next to him, and we didn't look at one another, just looked out at the gathering evening and Mike bounding through the grass grasping at bugs. During the day, it was crickets, and now that evening was upon us, fireflies. Give him a net and he'd probably hunt butterflies too,

"So you like it?"

"What?" I knew what he meant, even though a period of silence had followed our last conversation, even though he could have meant any number of things. But I wanted him to ask.

"You like your dad's dick." This time it wasn't a question, merely an assumption.

"Yeah." I blushed a little. It was odd; I had no problem talking about it, wasn't shy about it, in fact had given ample proof that I did like my dad's dick on the ride up. I would have even gone so far as to say that I liked Uncle Sam's dick, and I hadn't done anything more than look.

"He's got a piece on him, always has," chuckled Uncle Sam. A bug flew by and he swatted at it. "How about other dicks? You still just on your Daddy?"

I had looked, but not sampled anything but oral. My cunt was still entirely conquered be Dad and Dad alone. Perhaps that's why I was so reticent. I admitted as much.

"I figure you've got lots of time, and there'll be lots of boys who want some of that, so don't go jumping on the first one to offer," he said seriously. "Boys want to cum, that's all. They can do it in their hand just as easy." He grinned. "Come to think of it, I might do that right now, if you don't mind. Feeling a bit riled up, truth be told."

That was new. Mike still had to make do with masturbation, but Dad never went without a pussy to get him off, at least not when one of his girls was sitting right there with nothing else to do. But Uncle Sam just spit on his hand and started rubbing his hard cock, up and down, up and down. I turned all the way around to watch him. "Doesn't Derdre..." I started to ask.

"Your aunt's not in, and Palmer's out of town, and I'm not going to interrupt your sister. I get the feeling she likes the books more than me anyway." He grinned to show he meant no insult.

"What about me?" I blurted out.

"Girlie, you look about ready to jump out of your skin," he said with a kind smile. "I understand. The first few weeks with Derdre, I didn't want any other man looking at her."

"No, no, I just... I'm not used to being outside like this," I lied. Through my teeth. It was screamingly obvious. There were aliens on distant worlds who perked up their ears at that moment and said, for no reason, in their alien language, "Somewhere out there, a girl named Lexi is telling a whopper."

"Don't worry, I've done it many times before and I'll do it many times again," he laughed without acknowledging the planet-sized fib hanging in the air above us. "You do it too. It's no big deal."

"You did it with Sheri."

"Yes, she asked me to. Sheri's not you, and you're not her. If you're asking me to, well then that's different, but I'm not just going to bend you over and stick it to you because you're hinting." His hand on his cock had slowed, but not stopped.

"So I'm asking."

"No, you're telling me you're asking." He grinned that same grin. I could see why Dad hated it. Uncle Sam's a joker, but he's a smart-ass joker. "Ain't asking until you ask."

"If I asked, would you do it?"

"Do what?" That grin. I remember exactly how it looked.

My face flushed red. "Would you make love with me?" My parents didn't mind the word "fuck," but they insisted that what we did was making love. That wasn't always honored, and on more than one occasion the F word slipped out during moments of passion, but if I was asking Uncle Sam, I was asking for him to make love to me. I said with, but who's kidding whom?

"Sheri didn't ask so nice," he said with a laugh. He glanced over at Mike, who was sitting in the grass now, looking at a bug probably. It was still light enough to see, but the sun had gone completely out of the sky. I got the feeling that Uncle Sam would have welcomed Mike asking, and of course I was probably right. "You worried worms will crawl up your butt if we do it here?" He was kidding me again.

"If I get on top, worms will crawl up your butt," I said, with bravado I felt, but not completely. Maybe it would be different with another man. Maybe I was no good. Maybe Uncle Sam really didn't want to fuck me, maybe he wanted to go in and bother Mari instead. Was I his last resort before jerking off into the grass?

"No chance; my butt's too tight for worms," he said, reaching over and giving my ass a squeeze. "We could play it safe though. Are you wet?" And just like that, the conversation switched. A delightful trait of my family, which I have in spades, is the ability to ask questions like that when they need to be asked. What's more, there's something about being direct which makes it all easier. He asked me if I was wet, and I thought about it and then responded that, yes, I was, and all of a sudden it was easy. "The grass is soft on knees; believe me, I know," he said. "That way, it's like nature intended."

And with minimal fanfare, I was on my hands and knees on the grass, and Uncle Sam was behind me. Whether he didn't believe me when I told him I was wet or whether he just wanted to see for himself, he didn't immediately plunge in. I felt his big hands, rough but gentle, stroke my butt, then dip down and run over my pussy, which was definitely wet. Then I heard him spit, the same sound he made as he was preparing to jack off, and then his fingers were probing, and they felt slick with spittle. He spit again, and I looked around and saw him rubbing it all over his cock, and for a second I thought that maybe he was just going to jerk off on me. But then he stopped and shifted over behind me. "I love you, girlie, you know that," he said, not making any move toward penetration. "I was looking forward to this ever since your daddy told me. But it didn't seem like you wanted it."

"I do," I said, truthfully. "I love you too, Uncle Sam." And then I felt his cock against my lips for the first time, and it split me slowly, deliciously, different from Dad's but still so good, a moment of discomfort and then bliss.

He bottomed out in me and left it there, teasing a little but also letting me adjust to him, then he pulled all the way out. "That snatch is so tight, I just have to try it again," he said. "You ready? Can you handle another?"

I giggled without answering, and the emptiness was replaced by the firm fullness, never the same the second time, but keeping the emptiness away.

Mike looked over at us. "Aw man, you guys are doing it and I can't," he said with a groan.

"Wanna watch?" I asked, feeling Uncle Sam shift in and out of me slowly, building tempo. There was an orgasm right behind me, sneaking up on me, an orgasm I'd been dying for all day.

"Nah, I found this cool worm," Mike said. And with that, he ignored us again. Later, after I learned just how lucky I am, that seemed more amusing than it did at the time. Then, I didn't even think it was his loss. I understood that he didn't want to watch something that he couldn't participate in, that he might be a little bored with watching, and got back to feeling the orgasm coming up behind me.

But after Uncle Sam relented and flipped over and let me straddle him, grinning and saying, "I guess we'll have to chance the worms, huh?" I looked over and saw Mike and wished, just a little, that he would come over. I could have sucked him off, or stroked his cock, or something to bring him into the group. But feelings of vague guilt and orgasms don't mix, and I let the vague guilt drift away as I heard, through the fog, Uncle Sam asking me where I wanted it, as if there was even a question. After all, Mike would be old enough very soon.

Once my uncle's semen had been completely drained from him into my waiting receptacle, I lay down on his chest, thankful to feel him under me, not least because it meant that he was on the ground, not me. He gave me a kiss, very chaste considering what we'd just done, considering that his still-hard cock was even now slipping slowly out of my cum-filled pussy. "Love you, girlie," he said. "You're going to make a lot of guys happy, I bet. Just remember, you do the asking, and you do the choosing. Don't just hop onto the first guy you see." Then he grinned. "Unless you see me or your daddy first," he finished.