Close knit family

scared and stopped what she was doing because she was afraid of the increasing pleasure when she got too close to having an orgasm — and wanted me there, and helping, when she finally let it happen. The idea of not merely witnessing, but actually assisting as she had her first-ever orgasm aroused me tremendously — something that I could only hope she didn't notice.

Maintaining my equanimity, I replied 'Okay, I can do that, if you like. Was there anything else you wanted?'

'I thought it would be better, and nicer, if we, you know, maybe kissed and stuff, too. I mean, if you want to.'

Giving her a soft hug, I answered 'I'd like that, sweetheart. When did you want to do that?', thinking that I already knew what she'd say.

'Could we maybe do it today? Or even now?'

'Of course we can. Do we need to close the door, or anything?', I asked, wanting to know if I should be concerned about us being interrupted.

'Oh, no. I told Mom that I was coming down here so you could help me with something, just the two of us, and she just smiled and said she'd make sure nobody bothered us.'

We stayed on the couch like that for another minute or so before I hesitantly told her 'If we're going to do that, it would probably be easier and more comfortable if we were someplace where we had more room than on this couch.'

I got an idea of how much she loved and trusted me when I heard her answer 'I thought your bed would be better, too. Just because we're there, I know you aren't going to do any more with me than what I want, Uncle Ted. I know you don't want to scare me or anything, but you don't have to worry about talking to me, either. If I'm grown up enough for us to do stuff like this, don't you think I'll understand those kinds of things?'

Hearing that, I moved my hands so that I could start gently caressing the soft, smooth expanse of her back, and heard her release a contented sigh; being able to give HER pleasure like that while getting my own was something that always pleased me. After I'd tenderly re-mapped the topography of her skin several times, she spoke up again to tell me 'It always makes me feel good inside when you touch me like that — but that's not what I came down here for.'

'Well, I suppose we can do that, now…', I replied, feigning a reluctance I certainly didn't feel.

Knowing that I was just teasing her, she raised her head and graced me with a loving smile before placing a brief soft kiss on my lips. When she raised her head again, I knew that she could see how much it had meant to me by the happy expression on her face. A second later, she moved to stand up next to the couch again, leaving me free to sit up. She unabashedly unfastened and dropped the skirt she was wearing, revealing that she was wearing only a very skimpy pair of panties. Confidently, she looked into my eyes as she calmly slid her hands under the waistband and eased them down her lovely slender legs. After she stepped out of them, she turned to face me straight on before saying 'I don't think you've gotten a chance to really look at me before -

at least, not with us close like this, or for very long. So if you want to, you can do that now; it's okay. I… I'd like it, even.'

The closest I'd ever been to her for one of her little shows had probably been three feet. And with me being a good foot and a half taller than she was, the views I had gotten weren't as good as they could have been. So with her standing there not two feet from the couch, and my eyes about level with the bottoms of her breasts, I definitely DID want to look at her closer and longer.

I saw her lift her foot, as if she wanted to go somewhere — and realized that she was willing to come even closer to me. I shifted my feet apart, and she gave me a pleased smile as she moved to stand between them. I leaned forward slightly, and finally got to really look at her adolescent body.

With her that close, the first thing I noticed — had to notice! — was how incredibly flawless her skin was. Looking as delicate as the finest porcelain, it also had the light pink color of a healthy young girl. I couldn't see a wrinkle or blemish on her anywhere; there was absolutely nothing to mar the beauty of her epidermis. Able to really examine her mammaries, I saw that they were beginning to fill out a little; compared to the generally conical shape they'd had when I first saw her, they looked to be slightly more rounded then. Her dime-sized areolas were almost perfectly round, and darker than the smooth flesh surrounding them. Discounting the slight crinkling they were showing from what I knew was her mild arousal at having me look at her, I figured that both of them would have only a minimum of the small bumps that I'd seen on other women. Her nipples grew from the center of her areolas, and slightly larger around than a pencil; each stuck out for perhaps a bit more than a quarter of an inch.

Letting my eyes finally drift downwards, I thought her 'innie' navel was about the cutest thing I'd ever seen — and leaned forward to give it a soft kiss. When I was sitting up again, my gaze dropped even lower, and I got my first close look at the base of her flat abdomen. Up close and personal (as it were) with her developing bush, I saw that it was made up of a still somewhat sparse growth of fine blond hairs that looked to be still a little short — and soft. I didn't have any trouble making out the skin beneath, nor the cleft that divided her mons. I thought to myself that if I'd known that girls could look this good at that age, I'd have paid a hell of a lot more attention to them…

When I lifted my head to look into her face again, I quietly told her 'When you were sitting in my lap, I told you that you're pretty more than pretty enough. Seeing you now, like this, I want to say it again. Honey, you are way more than pretty enough — you're beautiful. When you let me look at you like this, you make me glad that I'm a guy.'

My words delighted her, and she leaned over to give me another kiss before standing up again — and turning around so that I could look at the back of her.

I'll admit that the first thing I looked at was her cute little ass. Simply put, it was a work of art, sculpted out of the finest marble by a singularly talented craftsman. Each of her cheeks was visibly tight and firm, nicely rounded, and as smooth and flawless as the rest of her. Difficult as it was, I finally managed to drag my eyes away from it to look at the rest of her. Her legs made her look a bit coltish, but in a good way; slender, they were composed of a series of graceful, gentle curves that made them simply flow from her ankles to the ass that they merged with. After another bout of admiring her butt, I got my eyes moving upwards so that I could examine the source of my most recent pleasure with her. Clear and smooth, her back was a blank canvas that I wanted to paint on with my tongue; her delicate shoulders supported her slender and graceful neck. Without the interesting terrain features that the front of her boasted, though, there wasn't anything behind her to get all that engrossed with — except for her ass, which I found myself marvelling at yet again.

She seemed to realize that it wouldn't take me as long to look her over from that direction as it had the front; I was still trying to decide what I wanted to do with her ass first when she took the decision away from me by turning around again. I didn't have any problem telling her, as sincerely as I could, 'You have the nicest looking butt I have seen in a long, long time.' -

making her giggle, and smile. Still looking into her face, I raised my hands and slowly reached out to put them on her hips before telling her 'Sweetheart, I'm honored that you would let me look at you like this. But I want you to know that I love you — not because of how you look, pretty as you are — but for what's inside you. You're smart, but you still study so that you can get the best grades you can; you're as kind and gentle and loving as anyone could want. I know you don't always get along with your sisters, but I have never heard you argue with them — which tells me that you're patient and generous, too. I know that you don't like some of the things that you have to do, but you don't complain or make a fuss; and that helps make things easier for your mom, because she had to worry about you and your sisters. I love you, Donna, for who you are, not what you look like — and I always will, no matter what else happens. If you wanted to stop doing stuff like this with me, it would be okay, because I'd still love you. If you didn't want me to see you without clothes on, it would be okay, because I'd still love you. For me, you and your sisters are the kids that your Aunt Judy and I couldn't have; I don't think I could love you and them any more if I was your dad. So if maybe sometimes I'm a stinker, that's why — because I do love you so much, and the last thing in the world I'd want to do would be hurt you in any way.'

I saw tears start to form in her eyes before she managed to blink them away and tell me 'I know how much