Close knit family

masturbate, but for me to see what she was doing, and how. Next to her, Donna sat quietly, neither moving nor making any noise; her attention seemed to be entirely on her sister. I saw that both of Donna's breasts were coming to some rather pronounced points, telling me that SHE enjoyed watching what Karen was starting to do, too.

When I looked at Karen, I saw that she'd closed her eyes and had her left hand was cupping (and being slightly overflowed by) her breast. Both of her areolas and nipples were starting to perk up again, and when I lowered my eyes to where her other hand was, I saw that she had started by drawing her finger up between the soft folds of her womanhood. It took only a couple of minutes for the scent of her increasing arousal to waft into my nose; it had a certain amount of similarity to the aroma I'd noticed with Donna, but was still uniquely her own. Shortly after that, I began to see traces of her essence on her finger; and it wasn't long before the end of her digit was faintly glistening. She had also increased and expanded her efforts to include the pearl of flesh at the top of her mound, drawing it farther and farther out from under its protective hood.

I have to confess that I felt considerable admiration for her that she was obviously so at ease with her own desires and sexuality that she was not only willing, but able, to perform such an intimate act with her sister and me looking on. Once more, my mind went off on a tangent as I considered the likely results if I'd even had the nerve in the first place to ask someone to watch me masturbate when I was younger, to make sure I was getting it right…

Dragging my thoughts back to the matter at hand (so to speak), I continued to watch as Karen pleasured herself — squeezing and caressing her breasts, gently pinching and pulling on her nipples, and softly pressing against the entrance to her vagina while gathering the oils she needed to continue to circle her clitoris, and rhythmically press on it with the end of her finger. It was an incredibly arousing sight, and felt my erection get even longer and harder as I watched her, despite the seriousness of why I was even there.

So, because of my desire to comfort and help her as best I could, and the sheer eroticism of what she was doing, I was paying close attention to her just as she'd asked. I watched as her arousal slowly progressed to higher and higher levels, and how the way she touched herself changed as her excitement increased; and I could tell that as she got closer and closer to what should have been her release, that same arousal and excitement gradually stabilized — she was getting so close to having an orgasm, only to hit a certain point that she couldn't get past. As I continued to watch her, I saw as she reached that plateau on her climb to release; and could tell that she was slowly getting frustrated at being denied the pleasure she could obviously feel so close.

For a happy change, my engineering 'mindset' worked to my advantage in my personal life; as I watched her teasing her clitoris again, I thought that it looked like she might not be doing it quite the same way as she had been. When she'd wetted her finger a couple more times as she continued to manipulate it, I was fairly sure that she had slowed her actions slightly, and wasn't pressing against her clitoris quite as much. Seeing how very close she was to her climax, it never occurred to me to say anything to her — I just licked the pad of my thumb to lubricate it, and the next time she moved her hand down to wet her finger again, I reached out and started circling my thumb on her exposed clitoris, a trifle more firmly and a bit faster than she had been. Her first reaction was to arch her pelvis forward to maintain the contact, and remove her hand from between her legs; less than a minute later, her thighs snapped together as she released a loud cry of pleasure. With my hand cupped along her mons, I could slightly feel it as her vaginal entrance spasmed in time with the contractions I figured were happening farther inside her.

It was an incredible sight, and a true privilege, to watch as her thirteen-year-old body practically convulsed in time with the cycles of intense pleasure she was experiencing. In my peripheral vision, I saw Donna look at me, surprised at the power of her sister's first orgasm — not knowing that she'd had an even stronger reaction.

Even Karen's youthful energy and vitality had its limits, and the strength of her climax eventually waned and died out — leaving her sitting there, gasping. When Karen started to tip over, Donna quickly got her sister to lean back and over, so that she could support the younger girl as she recovered. Karen's thighs fell apart, and I was able to rescue my hand from their clutches; without even thinking about it, I brought it to my face and used my tongue to clean the little bit of Karen's secretions that were on my fingers. It wasn't until I lowered my hand afterwards that I saw that Donna had witnessed what I'd done.

Sitting up again, I looked on in a mixture of pleasure (that she'd found the pleasure she was after) and amusement (at the look of awe on her face) as Karen began to get her senses and breath back. After a couple of minutes, I listened as she said 'That… I never…wow!', making Donna and I both laugh briefly.

Donna responded by telling her sister 'See? Now you know why I couldn't tell you what it's like!', with a hug.

Karen's voice was still a bit shaky when she said 'Boy, do I!'

Another minute or so had gone by when Karen suddenly launched herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing herself against me as she told me 'Oh, thank you, Uncle Ted!

I was so close, just like the other times, and I was so afraid that it wasn't going to happen again…

then I felt you touch me, and it felt so good… and then that happened… and it was wonderful!'

A moment later, I could feel the front of my shirt getting wet — but it was okay, because I knew that Karen was crying because she was happy. I put my arms around her, and after I gave her a soft hug, simply held her. Donna looked on, obviously glad that her sister knew the same kind of joy that she did.

To my relief, it took Karen only a few minutes to cry herself out; when she did, she started sniffling with the need to blow her runny nose. I gently eased her away from me, and took off my shirt before handing it to her with the command 'Blow.'

Embarrassed, but smiling that I was talking to her as if she were a child again, she did as instructed. Then after she'd wiped her eyes and face, she seemed unsure what to do with my shirt.

Taking it from her, I made a production out of folding it so that the assorted fluids she'd left on it were on the inside before setting it aside with exaggerated movements. She blushed before realizing that I was just teasing her; her smile lit up her face as she told me 'Thank you, Uncle Ted.'

I gently pulled her into my arms again, and caressed her back as I told her 'You're welcome, dear.'

She let me hold her like that for another minute or so before I felt her start to pull away again. I readily let her go, and after she turned to look at Donna and I saw the two of them share a Look, stood up and told them 'Okay, now that we've got all the drama and excitement out of the way for today, I actually wanted to find out what you two wanted for lunch. So do you want to suggest anything, or is it going to be Chef's Surprise?'

I'd jokingly told them once that it wasn't a good idea to go into any dining establishment that had

'Chef's Surprise' on the menu… that whatever it was, it would be composed of the things the chef was surprised were still in the fridge — something that had greatly amused them.

It took them only a few seconds of discussion to decide that reheating the pork chops that had been left over a couple nights before would be fine. After telling them 'Miss Piggy it is!', I made my way out of Karen's room, closing the door behind me.

Both of them seemed inordinately happy at lunch, though neither one said anything about what had happened earlier. I was shooed out of helping clean up after we'd finished eating.

Mid-afternoon, I was downstairs in my recliner and contemplating a nap when Karen came downstairs. Before I could say anything, she wanted to know if she could sit on my lap. I certainly didn't mind letting her, but had to wonder why she'd want to — but simply told her I'd like that. She was resting against my chest much like she had as a little girl when I heard her ask

'Uncle Ted? Why was it that I couldn't make me feel that before, but it happened so fast and easy when you touched me that way?'

I told her that I'd seen what I though she was doing differently, and how I'd made sure before doing anything. She sat there silently for a little while; when she spoke again, I could hear how troubled she was as she asked 'But why would I do something like that? I mean, if I started out making myself feel better and better, what would make me not keep doing it that way? I did it again after you left, and I didn't have any problems — it even felt better than the first time.'

She waited patiently as I tried to figure out what to tell her. It seemed that the most obvious answer seemed to be that it was something psychological — but the last thing she needed was for me to dump something like that on her. That made it necessary for me to try to think of something that at least sounded good.

With Karen sitting on my lap like that, the best that I could come up with was to tell her 'The only thing that