Ruined by her uncle

The low thrum of conversation and clinking glasses filled Lucien’s sprawling estate. Forty nine looked good on him. His hair had silvered at the temples but he still looked sharp in a tailored charcoal suit. However, his best friend Damien’s attention had long since left him.

It had locked onto his daughter, Lily.

She moved through the living room like she owned the air itself. She’d curled her long red hair, tonight so it spilled down her back and brushed the upper curves of her ass. The black mid thigh dress she wore stretched tight over her hips made for gripping and breasts so full they threatened to spill with every breath.

Child bearing hips, he thought, perfectly complete with tits that made his mouth water.

He remembered the night she moved home last year. How at the welcome dinner, she’d hugged him pressing her entire soft body into his tightly, longer than was necessary for an uncle-niece hug. His cock had gone rigid against her stomach before he could step back. He’d spent the rest of the evening hard and furious at himself.

Tonight it was worse. Every time she leaned forward and those heavy breasts strained the neckline, his cock twitched. He was already aching, thick and heavy against the zipper of his trousers, imagining sliding his hand under that dress, finding her bare and wet then fucking his fingers into her until she came on his hand right there in front of everyone.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Damien excused himself with a tight smile and climbed the stairs to the nearest guest room. The door clicked shut behind him. He braced both hands on the vanity, staring at his own reflection. His jaw was tight, eyes dark, the unmistakable ridge of his erection tenting his pants.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Get a grip. She’s Lucien’s daughter, your niece. You’re not doing this.”

The door opened a fraction.

Lily slipped inside.

She froze when she saw him. Her cheeks were already flushed, lips parted. Her nipples were visibly tight against the fabric.

“Uncle Damien…” Her voice came out breathy, almost shaky. “I—I just needed to use the bathroom. I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

The air between them went electric.

Damien’s gaze dropped before he could stop it. Her eyes followed. She saw the hard, obvious outline of his cock straining against the fine wool. She didn’t look away. Her throat worked as she swallowed.

He cleared his throat, voice rough. “Sorry. It’s… gotten a mind of its own tonight.”

Lily’s fingers curled at her sides. Slowly, she stepped back and closed the door, then turned the lock. The soft click was deafening.

Then she reached behind herself unzipping her dress, and letting it fall.

She wore nothing but a soaked black thong. Her full, heavy breasts spilled free, pale and tipped with tight, dusky nipples. The scrap of lace between her thighs was visibly wet, clinging to the plump lips of her cunt. She hooked her thumbs in the sides and pushed it down, stepping out of it. Her pussy was bare, swollen, glistening.

She whispered, voice trembling. “Fuck me.”