Bathtime With Niece

Bob was reading a book about prohibition when Jill got finished with her homework and came out of her room.

“Bath time, Uncle Bob,” she said brightly.

“Um?” said Bob, looking up from his book. His niece was naked.

“I said it was bath time. Come on. I have cheerleader tryouts tomorrow and I have to get up early so I can get there, warm up and practice my cheers. Tub or Shower?” she finished.

“Well, since you’re in such a hurry, I suppose it should be shower tonight,” said her uncle, and he got up. He untied his robe and dropped it to the floor, leaving him just as naked as his niece.

“Hurry up, Uncle Bob,” said Jill from inside the bathroom. He heard the water start. “I’m horny.” And she giggled.

An outsider would never have understood their relationship. If you were to ask Bob about it, he’d say it was just an accident of fate. His brother and sister-in-law had joined the Peace Corps just three years after having Jill, and when they found out they’d be stationed in central Africa, they’d decided not to take Jill with them. Bob had agreed to take care of his niece for the year they were supposed to be gone. He’d wished them well and watched the plane take off. He knew they got to Africa. He got letters. But then the letters stopped. They disappeared off the face of the earth and had not been seen or heard from for 12 years. They were presumed dead, and the courts had granted an adoption decree to Bob, since he was Jill’s closest living relative.

Now, Bob had never married. He’d had a few abortive short term relationships with some girls. He’d even gotten his dick wet a couple of times, but he was too afraid of rejection to actually form a meaningful bond with a woman. As such, he really didn’t have a clue how to raise a little girl. And, in one sense, his own emotional self grew up with hers. There were three things he did for Jill that he was proud of and thought he was pretty good at. One was clothing her. Another was making sure she had good nutrition and got lots of exercise. And the third was her personal hygiene.

And because he was proud of what he was doing, the fact that he gave his niece baths didn’t seem strange at all. Not even when she turned ten, then twelve, then entered her teens. It was just something they did together by then, and they’d developed a routine.

It had started when she was little. He knew she could get infections in her vagina, so he made sure to clean that very well. There was nothing sexual about it. Well, not then. He wasn’t a pervert. Well, not then. He just washed her.

The First Time it crossed the line was when she was almost eleven. He was washing her cute hairless pussy and his finger flitted between her tight young labia. She cooed and said that felt good, so he did it for quite a while. He got hard, but made sure she didn’t see that.

Then, a year later, she’d come screaming to him, babbling that she was dying, bleeding to death. She dragged him to the bathroom and he saw the stool full of bright red water and knew she’d started her periods. He had prepared for this, reading up on the process, the products available, their pros and cons and so forth. So he calmed her down and taught her how to use tampons.

He’d had to break her hymen to insert the first one, and he’d done it with his finger. That didn’t seem strange to either of them. He’d been partially inserting his fingers in her for over a year, as he washed her in the bathtub.

By then their routine was like this: First she sat up in the tub and he washed her hair. Then while the conditioner sank in, he washed her upper body and her pussy. Then she got on her hands and knees and he rinsed her hair and the rest of her body, running his fingers between her legs to get her pussy and her tight little rectum clean. Once she was out of the tub and dry, he rubbed her whole body with lotion, especially her pussy.

So, after the initial pain died down, when he showed her how to change the tampon, he made sure there was a warm wet washcloth handy to rub all over her crotch. There was a lot of pussy rubbing going on in their family, but it was pretty harmless. It felt good, so he did it for her.

Afterwards, alone in his room, he beat off, shooting streams of his spunk skyward as he remembered the feel of her soft skin.

When she was 13 she’d come home one night from being out with her friends. She was downcast and he saw this immediately. When he asked her what was wrong, she said she’d been talking to her friends. She’d mentioned something she’d said to her Uncle during bath time and he’d said thus and such. The girl’s eyes had gotten all big and she’d asked if Jill’s Uncle was IN the bathroom at the same time that Jill was IN the bathtub. Jill, thinking that was normal had said “Sure”. Her friend had whooped and hollered and made fun of her, saying that was dirty.

“Is what we do dirty, Uncle Bob?” Jill had asked.

“Sweety, there are some folks who would call it dirty or wrong. Most people don’t do it the way we do, I suppose. But what we do is between us, and I don’t think it’s anybody else’s business.