Rachel's Secret

I was roused next morning by a knock at my door.

Blinking my eyes open, I could see the sun was just coming up and that it was about 7:00. It was Saturday.

"Jimmy. Jimmy, can I come in?" Rachel's voice. "I have to leave for yearbook. I wanted to say goodbye."

Normally she would just leave. One of the things she had done at the school was to take journalism, and the school had made a space for her to participate in the assembly of the school yearbook. And it had been a great way for her to make some friends.

I sat myself up and pulled the sheet higher, tucked it in around myself. I slept in boxers or nothing at all. This morning it was nothing at all. She had never seen me with my shirt off, and my heart began to pound, thinking about what I had done. Everything rushing in around me. This would be the first time I saw her since...a twinge in my loins.

I heard her again, "Jimmy?"

"Yes. I'm OK. Come on in."

She opened the door slowly and looked inside, before opening it all the way and padding over to my bed without turning on the light. I saw her sit at the edge of my bed, her form in the low light wearing a pair of shorts and a top that rode high up her midriff, a tight band around her middle with fabric running up over each breast, a little V down her middle. I could see it was tied around her neck. I knew the outfit, that I was noticing was interesting, as my thoughts immediately wandered to her body, her breasts, and I felt my cock stiffen It was frustrating and embarrassing.

"Hi." She said. This soft lilting hi. Sing song. She was not angry at all. "I didn't see you last night, you must of went to bed early, and I have to go to yearbook. I have a lot of layout work and I'm a bit behind. Jason and Marnie are going to help me."

"That's fine."

"I wanted to say bye." She sat there looking at me, this pause between us. "You OK?"

I sat myself a little higher, knowing precisely what she meant. "Still waking. I'm fine...You?"

And we were silent again.

She pulled her hair back from her eyes, and bit at her lower lip looking at me, "I'm not usually tongue tied. You want me to get you some coffee. ANYTHING you need? I got a little time still." I caught a definite emphasis in the word anything.

Silence, and I once again went into a worried little confession. "Look. Rachel. I'm sorry. I didn't mean...."

"Jimmy!"

I tried to continue, "Can we go back....forget....about"

"Stop! I SAID it was fine. Sheeesh. I'm fine. Look, I meant what I said."

"Honey, we can't."

Another pause.

"OK then. I'm just checking in, I'll see you later." I wanted to mention about Susan, but in that moment she lay her hand at my shoulder and leaned down to give me her kiss. All thoughts vanishing.

Her lips were tremulous, she was moving slow, almost like SHE were nervous. Her hand trembling as she held my bare shoulder. I didn't stop her as her lips wrapped around my lower lip, the way she did it, and kissed me slow. Slow like the morning before, held her mouth to me. This little bee nipping and bouncing along the petal of a flower. I could smell her perfume and feel the warmth of her. So good. Her fingers were caressing my shoulder as she lingered there. I felt her tongue run along my lower lip, testing as I ever so slightly opened my mouth to her. The narrowest line, and felt her tongue dip inside, as I touched her tongue with mine.

She gave an audible sigh. My heart was pounding and my cock felt heavy. All my feelings, of release and exultation.

She sat back up and said in a quiet voice, "Hmm, That was nice!" Her hand was still on my shoulder, "Sure you don't want some coffee?" Looking me up and down she says out of the blue, "You want a back rub?" and began pushing at me with her small hands, rolling me over, and I let her turn me onto my front. "You seem tense."

"I'm not tense, I just woke up."

Her hand rubbed down the center of my back, feathery touches. This little bird in my room. I let out a sigh and she sat closer, by my side, running her fingers lightly all over my back. This human contact, so addictive, and I felt her run her fingers across my shoulder blades and down my back, while holding the sheet across my waist.

"Feels nice," I sighed at the touch. This was alright.

She said softly, "It's the same for you. Above the waist, K?" The implication was unmistakable, I let it pass. Her hands running down to my lower back, I continued to let her stroke and rub and caress. At one point her hands dipped beneath the sheet and ran right over the top of my butt cheeks.

I looked at her, opening my eyes without lifting my head. "Above the waist."

"It was." She said matter of fact looking at her hands as she massaged me, running her hands over the same spot to make her point.

"That was not ABOVE."

"Where do you think the waist is?"

Honestly, this was ridiculous. "Across the middle, that's your waist. At, at your navel." And I made a motion across my back at the narrow point of my back.

She let go of me and grasped her cellphone, "No it's not."

"Rachel, I am a doctor."

"A BRAIN doctor."

She was tapping away at her phone. And she held out her phone, "There."

I turned myself around to look, sitting myself up to read the entry with the query 'Waist' while keeping the sheet tightly wrapped around my bottom half.

In triumph she said, "I googled it. The waist begins right here," pointing at the picture, "Right at the hip bone. This one has it a bit lower." As I read she had her hands on me again pressing me back on the bed, and she was stroking me on my front across my chest and drawing her hand lower as she said, "Right to Here." She drew a line across my abdomen well below my navel from the center point of my hip bone across to the other, coming perilously close to my penis, its hardness now completely obvious beneath the sheet. Her eyes on my abdomen the whole time, unmistakably eying my crotch. Then she let go and drew a line on herself across her low riding shorts well below the beltline, "On me, it is from here to here." Meeting my eyes, making sure I was looking, "And I think it dips down in the middle."

I let out a breath as her hand was basically laying across the front of her crotch. I eyed her concave belly, her shorts running low across her hips. Lust and desire filling me.

Wanting to stop this I said, "I'll have some of that coffee now."

"K." She rose and left, shortly returning with a cup. I set up a little higher and had a sip.

As I sat there, she continued to rub me. I letting her. It felt so nice. She had done my back and now she was doing my front. I let her run her hands across my belly, up along my front and low across my abdomen. Above the waist, after all. And it felt so fucking good.

As she stroked me she says, "Honestly, Jimmy, I don't know how you ever got to first base with a girl."

I knew exactly what she meant.

"What are the bases now a days anyway?"

"What do you think they are?"

"Well first base is kissing, second base is up top, third base is uh lower, and well...."

"And where are WE?" she said playfully. Her head jerked up as she said it, looking me in the eye. My cheeks were glowing now and she was drawing her finger down my front and poking at me as she said it.

I played along, "I guess, second base."

"Maybe minor league," she says.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, in the majors first base is kissing AND feeling up. You are definitely on FIRST base Jimmy."

She was so adorable sitting there. So female. Her hands were mesmerizing me. I wanted to touch her. I moved a bit closer on the pretense of reaching my coffee, but as I sipped and set the cup back down, remained. Her hands were rubbing across my chest, drawing circles and lines on my skin. Playful and random. I lay my hand right at her hip, the demarcated line, and slid my hand up her side no fabric covering her there. I was touching her bare skin. She letting me, continuing to massage, not acknowledging at all my hand was on her as I began to curl my fingers across the bare skin of her midriff above those little shorts.

"Don't you have to go?"

"I have a little time."

And I did it again. I brought my hand up her chest and across her breasts. The fabric of her top was so much thinner. She closed her eyes as my palm scraped across her nipples. I lay my hand at her collar bone and felt her nails scratching me as I brought my hand back down over her chest, palming her breast and squeezing.

I ran my hand down her sides as she stroked me, and over her breasts, only our breathing and sighs in that gradually brightening room from rising sun.

She let out a sigh and cooed, "You make me feel good." I gave her another squeeze.

"We shouldn't be doing this." I said as I continued to run my hands down over her tummy and across the top of her shorts, over her belt line, drawing my hand back and forth across the top of her shorts. I felt her hipbones and held them, curling my fingers around to her butt, ran my hand over her abdomen as she sat there, low between her legs. I could feel the mound of her crotch, her sex. I wanted to dip my hands into those shorts just then, I wanted her so much. To feel her, take her clothes off.

She shrugged. "It's not like we are going to go all the way. Nothing wrong with it. What's so different about your chest than mine? Really. With you it's OK. So...."

The reasoning was muddled. And I wanted to stop, but did not. I was running my hand across her navel, playing with her, felt the indentation which went down her abdomen from her navel down between her legs and the downy fur that would grow into that patch between her legs. Her warmth, the smell of her. She was looking down at my hand. Her massage of me had ended, and she simply held her hand to me in one place, holding herself up as I rubbed.

"But you are so much younger than me."

"Younger?" She rolled her eyes. "Not, that I am your niece?"

"Well yes. I mean..."

She cut in, "Just kidding. We're just making each other feel good. It's nice." And she let go of me, threw her hair back and put her hands behind her neck. "Want to see?"

Oh my god! She was going to take her top down. And I needed NEEDED to say no. But did nothing as I looked at her.

She fumbled behind her neck and let the fabric down around her waist. Her breasts exposed, perfect full tear drops clinging to her front. Lovely brown aureoles, half dollars, her nipples hard little erasers. She let me look at her keeping her hands at her sides. Proud of her effect on me. I lay my hand at her bare breast and stroked her so soft, her powder skin, pressing my hand to make it rise and squeezing. Her nipples were so tight, her cheeks were mottled and red as I touched her naked skin. She sighed as I touched her, her chin dipped low as she watched me.

"I like it when you touch me. It's OK."

We continued like that a little while longer. When she looked the clock, "Oh, god." An hour had gone by. It was 8:00. "I do have to go," almost apologetic. She leaned down and was kissing me again, leaning across my chest, her bare breasts pressed to me and her lips on mine. The feeling was impossible, her breasts pressed to my chest. Skin to skin, it was too much. My cock was in agony. I let my mouth part and our tongues sliding and dancing together. I slid my arm around her back and held to her, she brought one leg up and let it lay along me. She was almost lying on top of me, skin to skin as we kissed, so gentle and soft, wet. She was chewing my lower lip, I felt the line of her teeth with my tongue. The most erotic thing I had ever felt in my life. She was such a good kisser. Before parting she bit my lower lip.

Then she stopped and leaned back a little and looked deep into my eyes, her hair falling down around my face as she said, "Don't be getting weird on me."

I watched her as if in a dream stand back up, slowly grasp her top and nonchalant pull the fabric back over her breasts, toss her hair back and tie it back around her neck.

"Bye."

In another moment she was gone.

--------------------------

D'Oh

I never told her about Susan.

Fuck.

It dawned on me as she walked out the door. 'Don't be getting weird on me.' What did that mean? But I knew immediately telling her about Susan had suddenly gotten harder.

--------------------

Confrontation and Reconciliation

Rachel arrived home a little after one, and I had made some soup and sandwiches. She was in such a wonderful mood, happy, light. It was me with clouds in my eyes. She was a being a tease, open, touching my back as she walked by. What did she think this was? I had certainly let it all get too far.

"We got so much done today." She said, going on about the yearbook. I had difficulty following as she listed everyone who was there that day.

She is 18 I kept telling myself, how can a teenager know what they want, or know what is OK? This was entirely. ENTIRELY my fault. There is a momentum to events, cause and effect. Past events have a way of recurring. I knew that. Patterns and habits. How do I put this back in the bottle? THAT would have to wait.

"Jimmy you aren't listening to me."

She was right. I had something I had to say, before getting distracted. Her flutter of words. This little bird in the house again. I simply dove right in.

"I have something to tell you."

"Yes." She stopped in front of me, so quickly she tipped to the side, almost toppling over, and back up.

"When I was at work yesterday, I ran into a colleague of mine. And...and we, uh SHE, is going with me to dinner."

"When?"

"Uh, tonight."

"OKaaaay. And you were going to tell me when?" She had a sandwich in her hand, was pointing it at me as she spoke.

"Well, now."

"Not like yesterday, OR this morning. I thought we were going to watch a show....Fine." She looked away. I watched her deflate before me. As she walked away she said, "Is this like a DATE or something?"

I answered honestly, "Sort of." She looked back, stopped, clouds forming in her eyes. Realizing my mistake I added, "No. Not really."

"Wow! Mr. not dated in four years, I'm not ready has a date, what a coincidence."

"Rachel."

"It's fine. I don't...I said it's fine." She left the kitchen. "I don't care."

I followed, "She is a colleague of mine. I've known her for years."

"You ever go out with her before?"

"Yes."

"Alone."

"No."

"So out of the blue, today - yesterday actually - it's like OK yeah lets go out. I'm READY now." A growl in her voice.

"She asked me."

She headed for the stairs talking as she walked, "I said it's fine. It's FINE. Go. This has gotten boring all of a sudden. Leave me alone."

I didn't see her the rest of the afternoon. I wanted to go in and talk with her some more but why should I have to justify myself? I knew how awkward. Waiting was a mistake. She was getting attached, there was a physical relationship now. I could imagine her feeling our dalliances would continue. That by going out I was somehow cheating on her. I had not told her when I knew, had engaged in what we had engaged in without telling her. And she knew I had not actually dated anyone in four years, that is if she believed me then. Was this even a date? I sat down, yes, yes it was. I also knew how interested Susan was in me.

Fuck.

At one point I walked down the hall and saw Rachel in the bathroom looking at herself in the mirror, it reminded me immediately of what she had told me. She was feeling the same way, I imagined that was what she did when she felt that way. I had done it, become one of the boys.

I now felt guilty for something in no way should I be feeling right now. I was not cheating on her. She was my niece for chrissakes.

From there I heard her slam her door. She did not appear again until evening when I heard her padding into the kitchen. I sighed. I have to talk to her.

When I entered the kitchen there she was, getting some food out of the fridge, wearing only a short little tee top that stopped right at the bottom of her butt. No sweat pants. Her legs bare,her hair pulled back in a pony tail.

When she looked at me, her mouth was in a thin line. When she turned I could tell the tee was older, worn thin which accentuated her breasts. I could see the pink of her skin through the fabric. She went to the fridge again bending to get a soda, her top rising up her backside and I could see her panties. Oh my god! I felt a surge of heat, and felt my cock stiffen. A little pink pair, lace, with fringes. From behind the fabric ran half way up her ass before curving out to her hips, leaving most of her ass cheeks exposed. Her behind was unbelievable. I have since been told the style of these panties are called Tanga, and you should look that up sometime. The effect it had on me was overwhelming, bringing back all my desire and feelings of her from before. She stood again and walked over to the counter, ignoring me. My eyes unable to look away, riveted to her bottom peeking out from under the tee.

She said to no one, "This kitchen is a mess!" Her tee was so short I could still see her ass, which as she stood there made it look as if she had nothing on underneath at all. Her thighs running up to the edge of the tee, and her bare ass cheeks peeking out, the edge of her top rising and falling with each movement. I could feel my hands begin to tremble and had to adjust myself, as my cock was stiffening down my pants leg.

She looked back at me as I stood there, "What do you want?" Her voice firm. She knew. A quirky little smile as she opened the dishwasher, and began putting the dirty dishes from the sink and counter in. Teasing me.

I simply watched, as each time she bent over her perfect ass came into view, the swell of her pussy lips bulging from her panties. I swear I could see the line of her slit disappear between her legs. Her top falling forward, and I could also see it fall forward away from her breasts, though from my angle could not look down her top. To me, being partially clothed is so much sexier than being naked, and her effect on me was overwhelming. At the same time I could tell she was mad at me. I considered my words carefully. She continued setting the plates in haphazardly, the glasses in the bottom. I like them on top. She was not putting the silverware in the container but just laying them in. Each time she bent over her little bottom on display.

I stepped forward, "Sweetie. Here. Here, you know you aren't doing it right." She, glaring at me, I continued moving closer. "Here let me help."

She spun around at me, "I know how to wash dishes Jimmy."

"I know you do, I..."

From where I had approached and the suddenness of how she had moved placed her directly in front of me, and as she turned I backed to the counter. She approached and moved close so that her chest was just brushing against me. I tried to sidestep towards the dishwasher, but she had me trapped. She was standing so close I feared she would feel my cock running straight up my pants but I could not move back. She did not move any closer, and I moved to the other side from her and began to reposition the dishes and the cups and the silverware she had placed in the washer into their appropriate spots.

She then went to the fridge and took out a three-quarter full bottle of wine and poured it into a wine glass, filling the glass to the top.

"Rachel, you shouldn't be drinking that."

"What?" She stood with legs apart, and took a long drink from the glass.

"Your not old enough."

"I am, in England."

"You're here."

"You served me a glass of wine two nights ago."

"With dinner."

"What? Now I need your permission?"

"Yes you do." And I took the glass out of her hand and set it on the counter. "Rachel, Susan is going to be here soon. I wanted her to meet you."