Family Affair: May I Have this Dance Sex stories

Cissy pirouetted in front of everyone, showing off her shiny red satin gown. “Isn’t it lovely, Uncle Bill?” She still couldn’t get over how she looked; she’d never had a dress like this before. It was almost strapless — just two thin strands across her smooth-skinned shoulders. They weren’t even holding it up; that was taken care of by the stiff corset that actually produced something like a bosom. It had taken some convincing to get away with not wearing a shawl to cover up. But at least all the discussion over her décolletage — not that anyone came right out and said that’s what they were discussing, of course — anyway, all that talk had kept them from saying anything about the slit that went from her ankles clear up to her hip. She twirled again, careful not to swing the slit open too wide. She felt too happy to have an argument now.

Her uncle and guardian, Bill Davis, looked up from the evening paper. He was still a little new at this parent business, having taken in his nephew and two nieces only a little while ago. Still, he knew something about pleasing women, and Cissy was right on the border between a sweet childhood and what promised to be a beautiful womanhood. He figured he could manage. “Yes,” he said, folding the paper into his lap. “The dress is lovely. Almost as lovely as what’s inside it!” He hoped he’d done the right thing, giving in on that dress. He had to admit she was stunning; in that dress she looked a lot closer to womanhood than he’d noticed before.

Cissy blushed, just a little. Her feelings about Uncle Bill were still a bit confused; she’d gotten used to her last foster family and now she had to start all over again, but her uncle was clearly so awkward at being a dad that she sometimes thought of him more as a friend.

Well, she didn’t have time to think about that now. Her little sister and brother, Buffy and Jody, came up and kissed her good night before going off to bed, and told her she looked “awful pretty.” And then there was a buzz at the door; her date was downstairs. Mr. French, their butler, gallantly took her arm and offered to escort her down on his way to enjoy a weekend with his brother, Nigel. Uncle Bill wondered if he shouldn’t insist on seeing Cissy’s date? But he trusted Mr. French, so he let the teenager teeter off on her high heels to her first formal dance.

He had to call out once or twice to get the little ones to settle down while washing up, but after he tucked them in they went straight to sleep and he walked back to his easy chair and settled in with a good book. Being a father was all right, but it was nice to have some time to himself, too.

He was still in the chair reading when he heard the front door open. It had only been an hour or so since they left; could French have forgotten something? He went to look.

Cissy had left the house looking like a million bucks, but she came in now looking like spare change. Her dress must have been the same; there wasn’t a mark or a tear on it. But it seemed to have lost its sheen and its shape; it hung down on the young girl’s frame like a sack. The only thing that looked worse than the dress was Cissy’s face. The bloom was off her cheeks; her short blonde hair hung down like a tattered rag. The mascara she’d so carefully applied was streaked by tears.

Bill stared, unable to decide whether to comfort her or let her work it out herself. It would be easier on him, he thought for the thousandth time, if he’d had a little parenting experience under his belt before he had to tackle the teen years.

When Cissy lifted her head and he saw the glimmer of tears still rimming her eyes, he made up his mind. Taking her by the shoulder, he led her toward the den, away from the bedrooms so they wouldn’t wake the kids.

It didn’t take much prompting for the whole story to come out. Pete, her date, had met her downstairs. Mr. French gave his approval, and everything seemed fine. But when they got into the car, it turned out Pete’s dad wasn’t chaperoning, like Pete had promised. Instead, they were doubling with a friend of his, who was doing the driving even though he’d had a bit to drink already. Pete and his buddy drank some more beers on the way to the dance. He hardly stopped to drop her at the table before he ran off to the dance floor by himself, picking up girls left and right. Within minutes someone else’s boyfriend got into a fight with Pete and they were both thrown out. Cissy had been so humiliated she’d gotten one of her teachers to drive her home.

For the thousand-and-first time, Bill rued his inexperience. If Cissy was an adult woman, he’d figure she could handle it herself; all he’d have to do is agree with her about what a louse Pete was. But this girl in front of him, crying her eyes out, looked more like a little girl playing dress-up in heels and her mommy’s gown.

So he decided to do what he figured you do for little kids when something keeps them from getting their dream: you try to give them the next best thing and figure they’ll soon forget their troubles.

Excusing himself for a second, he slipped into the kitchen and came back with a couple of glasses of pop, a white towel carefully placed over his arm. “Is this table all right for madame?” he asked with his really poor excuse for a French accent. There was just the hint of a smile through her tears as she sat down and took the pop from him. He put the other one on the table and went over to the stereo, flipping through his records. No, jazz wasn’t right; no, not the classical. He knew he wouldn’t have the kinds of rock ‘n’ roll they were probably playing at the dance — or would they, at a formal? Anyway, he must have something appropriate. Hmmm, maybe this would do: Sinatra’s always a good choice, right? He put the record on and turned to face his niece.


“May I have this dance?” He bowed deeply and looked up at her from under his eyebrows. She blinked away her tears and gave him a tentative smile.

Uncle Bill swept Cissy into his arms as Sinatra’s mellow voice plaid quietly in the room. “I’m not too much for the fancy stuff, but I can manage a fair dance step,” he told her.

“Oh, no, you’re great,” she answered, her chin tucked under his shoulder as she clung to him. “Pete couldn’t…” She broke into tears.

“You just forget about him,” Bill said sternly. “This is your first formal dance, and you’re going to have a good time, and that’s that.” He softened it with a grin as he looked down into her eyes.

They danced across the floor and back, and by the time the first side of the album was done, Cissy looked like the girl who’d left so full of hope. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks were rosy, and her dress was looking like seven figures again. In fact, her figure itself looked better. When she stood up straight her chest swelled out of the low-cut gown, and as she got accustomed to the high heels the curve of her ankle became more confident. When Uncle Bill stopped after the last song, she begged him to flip the record over.

It was somewhere in the middle of “Strangers in the Night,” with Cissy’s supple body pressed close to his, that Uncle Bill bent down and kissed her. At first he just brushed her lips, almost a fatherly kiss. But she closed her eyes and kissed him back, and he held her closer, and their mouths opened and passion took over.

Uncle Bill broke the embrace first, stumbling back and looking away. He was confused by his own feelings. Cissy was his niece, just a kid, someone he was looking after like a father. But he couldn’t deny other feelings as well. She was beautiful, and, well, sexy, and the love he felt was more than paternal.

Cissy was confused, too, but not in the same way. She knew now, very clearly, that she loved Uncle Bill in a very special way. But she was just a kid. How could she ever hope that he’d return her feelings?

Looking everywhere but at her, Bill groped behind him and found the back of his easy chair. He slumped into it, massaging his forehead with one strong hand.

Cissy turned to leave, embarrassed and forlorn. He stopped her at the door with his voice.

“Cissy… wait. I think we should talk. I have to explain.”

She returned to his side; he still found it difficult to look her in the eyes. Bill tried to tell her that he was sorry and would never do anything like that again. Cissy, her mind on her own feelings, misinterpreted his words and was now more sure than ever that her love was completely one-sided.

But as her uncle talked, she looked at him and saw something that made her feel, without being completely sure why, that he returned her love.

“Uncle Bill,” she said softly, interrupting his rambling, “if you really feel that way, why do you look like that?” She pointed to his lap. Bill looked down and quickly put both hands over his lap, trying to cover up a very obvious and very large bulge in his pants.

Cissy was not very experienced. Indeed, her kiss with Uncle Bill was the most passionate she’d ever had; no boy had ever put his tongue in her mouth like that.

But all that time apart from any real family had taught her to do things for herself, and she’d read several marriage manuals and had several whispered discussions with older girls. She knew what was happening to Uncle Bill, and the realization that she was the cause made her feel warm all over, particularly Down There.

She was nervous, and a little ashamed, but for the first time in her young life she felt true love and she was determined not to let it slip away. Uncle Bill was a grown man and he wouldn’t settle for kiddie behavior; if she wanted him, she knew, she’d have to grow up in a hurry.

She put a trembling hand on top of his and gently pressed down. Uncle Bill looked up in shock. Moving to him, she pressed her lips to his. This time she took the lead, opening her mouth to his and pressing her hot tongue inside. He sunk back into the cushions of the chair but she pursued, sitting down on his knees and slipping her hand underneath his, to rest right on top of his straining rod. She felt it press up against her hand. Yes! Yes, Uncle Bill did feel that way about her.

With her left hand she caressed his brow and neck. Growing more sure of herself, she broke their kiss and slipped down to nuzzle his chest, pulling aside the top buttons of his shirt. Uncle Bill began to protest, weakly, but she silenced him by putting one finger to his lips.

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“Sssshhh. Don’t say anything. We’re not doing anything wrong. You love me — I know you do, I think I’ve always known it — and I love you. Let me show you how much.”

Her right hand unzipped his slacks and she freed his stiffening rod, taking the hot penis into her warm hand. There were already a few drops of moisture at the tip — she remembered one of the older girls saying something about that. Her fingers massaged the bulbous head, then moved down to the rod itself. She felt for the line running down the underside — there it was. She rubbed up and down and, like a scientist getting a favorable result from an experiment, was pleased to feel his penis harden and grow larger.

Uncle Bill’s head was all the way back, and he was staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Poor Bill,” she whispered into his ear, “it’s all right. This is how things ought to be. Don’t be afraid. How can we do anything wrong if we love each other?”

The touch of Cissy’s hand on his penis had almost made Bill pass out. His mind was screaming at him to stop, right now, but his body seemed unable or unwilling to act. It had been so long since he’d had a woman, and Cissy was right, he did love her — but could he? Should he?

Then he gasped as he felt a warm breath on the head of his penis. He looked down, his eyes wide, as Cissy opened her mouth and took him inside. Her lips closed around it, and she began to move up and down.

“No,” his mind said, “no, stop, we can’t!” But out of his mouth came, “Yes, Cissy. Suck on it. Suck on it hard!”

She did. Her cheeks hollowed and he felt the pressure on his rod increase. She couldn’t take all of him inside, but she kept rubbing the rest with her hand and soon he felt a boiling inside him.

“Oh, Cissy, watch out, I’m going to cum,” he gasped. She pulled up and watched with fascination as gooey white spunk shot out of the tip of his penis and landed on her outstretched hands.

Her eyes locked on his, Cissy raised her hands and licked the cum off with a smile. Bill’s mouth dropped open. None of his girlfriends had ever done that. Love and lust tumbled together inside him.

Cissy slowly rose and turned away, calling over her shoulder in a sexy whisper. “Undo me?”

He reached up and fumbled at her zipper, finally drawing it down to the small of her back. The sides of the red satin dress pulled away slightly, exposing the gentle curve of her spine. Cissy slipped the two straps off her shoulders and turned around to face him.

Ever so slowly she peeled the stiff corset of the dress away and lowered it. Her small breasts emerged, gentle rises on her smooth young body. Her nipples were already stiff and stood out from her breasts. She slid her hands over herself as the dress dropped to the floor.

Uncle Bill moved forward on his chair and pulled her hips to him. He tenderly peeled off her white cotton panties, undoing the snaps of her garters and then closing them again to hold up her dark stockings. Cissy stepped out of the panties as Bill put both hands on her behind and leaned forward.

As Uncle Bill suckled her labia, Cissy began to sway above him. His tongue penetrated her and she grasped his shoulders for support. This was so much better than any of the girls had ever said! Already, her vaginal secretions were flowing strongly and she felt shudders of pleasure. She looked down at her uncle, his face buried in her, and closed her eyes in delight. His tongue touched her clitoris and she wobbled on her heels; he pulled her closer to him, his broad hands kneading her firm buttocks.

At last she felt a stirring begin deep inside her and all her muscles contracted at once. Her moans increased in volume as violent spasms wracked her body; she held tightly onto Uncle Bill as she went weak in the knees and fell onto him. “Oh, yesss, oh, yess, oh, that’s so GOOOOOOD! Unnnnnnnhhhh!”

Gently Bill lifted Cissy off him and lowered her to the rug, placing the towel from the kitchen beneath her. He looked down at her naked body. No longer did he think of her as a child at all. This was a woman before him, a tantalizing woman in full flower who wanted him as much as he wanted her. His penis had once again stiffened, and he quickly took his clothes off and joined her on the floor.

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Again they kissed, equally hungry for each other’s lips and mouths and tongues. He caressed her firm breasts, her taut stomach, her silken legs. She was still recovering from her orgasm, but she kissed him back and opened herself to his exploration.

And then he felt she was ready and Bill moved between her legs. She spread herself wide to him, her labia stretching and exposing her opening, shielded not at all by a sparse patch of pale pubic hair.

Bill brought the head of his penis to her entrance, holding his rod in his hands and rubbing it up and down. “This will hurt some at first,” he said.

“I know,” she said with the ghost of a smile.

“We can stop now,” he said, but she knew he didn’t mean it.

“No,” she said, “I want to. Please! But… be gentle?”

“Always,” he said, and pressed into her. She sighed as the tip of his penis spread aside her tight lips and forced itself into her hot, wet tunnel, already slick with her juices. He moved slowly, agonizingly slowly, and she felt every motion as he filled her wall to wall. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes but she pressed her hands into his back, urging him on.

And then he felt the pressure as he touched her maidenhead, yielding slightly before him.

“Are you sure?” he asked her, and Cissy nodded in reply. He pulled back and moved forward with steady pressure, and again, and again, and all at once she felt herself give way and he was through.

It did hurt, just a little, but he held himself inside her and soon the pain went away, to be replaced by a deep, hollow longing. She moved her hips under him, pressing against his waist, and he answered with a long thrust that forced a moan from deep within her.

They moved together, uncle and niece, man and woman, adjusting their pace as Cissy began to learn about her body and the joys it could deliver. She closed her legs around her uncle, her high heels sliding along his brawny legs. He bent down and kissed her long and hard, no hesitation or regret, just raw desire.

And still they moved together, his penis plunging within her, stretching her young opening. She fit him like a glove, and Bill found sensations he had never known with all the women in his past. The love he knew he had found intensified his physical delight as he buried himself to the hilt in her, feeling his sac rub against her. Cissy’s hands dug into his back as she pressed herself onto him, trying to take more and more, thrilling at every thrust, every move, her every nerve tingling.

Once, and then again, she felt an orgasm spread through her body, and she shrieked in ecstasy. Still Uncle Bill remained inside her, pressing, withdrawing, pushing forward again. Instinctively she moved under him, rubbing his stiff rod against every sensitive point.

Bill was amazed at his own stamina and at Cissy’s ability to draw him so close to the edge with her movements, only to sense his closeness and withdraw again. They shouted their love to each other, they whispered, they sobbed, they moaned in delight as the passionate rhythm continued. Uncle Bill’s muscles ached and Cissy’s slim body was bathed in sweat as their motion grew faster and faster, straining every fiber within them, faster and faster until at last Bill felt himself slip over the edge. “Oh, God, I’m cumming. Cissy, Cissy, I’m gonna do it, Oh, God, Cissy, t-h-i-s i-s i-tttttttt!” The seminal fluid jetted out of him in a wild torrent, filling his niece’s once-virginal body and gushing out to soak into the towel beneath them. Cissy bucked wildly beneath him, yet another orgasm sending her into a shrieking fit of joy.

When at last it was over and Cissy had gone to her bedroom, Bill slipped under the covers of his own bed and stared at the ceiling. The last lingering doubts about what he’d done evaporated as he thought again of the feel of her tight vagina squeezing his penis dry, of the look in her eyes as she rose and fell in passion calling out “I love you! I love you, Uncle Bill!”

He knew things would be very different from now on. Somehow he and Cissy would find the time to be together when they could. Should he tell French? Would the old butler understand how something like this could happen? No, Bill thought, French was a good friend and a loyal employee, but this was not something to share with him. This was a family affair.