Falling in love with Uncle josh

“Remember, your assignment is due on the first day of the next term. Please be warned that I will not accept it if it is not typed. You can email it to me during the holiday, just remember to add your student number and keep a copy of the email in case…
Professor Letterman was droning on and on in her I’m-important-voice, but like at least ninety percent of the students around me, I was not paying attention to more than two sentences at a time before my thoughts drifted away on their own little cloud of happiness. It was the last day before spring break and like most of my friends my bags were packed and loaded into the trunk of my car. It would be my last spring break at this college and I had opted not to go to one of the overcrowded beaches students frequented during these times. Instead, I would be visiting my uncle and his new wife. Too many people, this might sound like a boring way to spend a spring break, but those would be the people who’d never met my uncle. He’s my mom youngest brother, and with a fifteen year gap between them, they never got very close when they were younger. He’s only like seventeen years older than me and he hates when I call him uncle. I do it sometimes just to joke with him. We got pretty close a few years ago when he got married to his second wife, a natural redhead with a temper to match. I liked her from the beginning, but she’s pretty lofty sometimes. She spends most of her time at home working on her laptop, doing goodness’ knows what, as she works sixteen hours a day in the office. Also, she’s a health and fitness nut, always trying to lose weight. I’m lucky enough to have been blessed with a natural slim build, and the only exercise I get is dancing twice a week at a downtown studio. I’m not very good, but I love it. I would never be able to become a professional dancer anyway; my boobs are too big.
So when I visit them (which is fairly often) my uncle and I often sneak out for take-aways and ice cream sundaes while she munches on sticks and leaves in front of her laptop. My uncle is too cool for words. He has this amazing belly laugh that’s just completely irresistible. When he laughs, you can’t help but join in. Plus he’s really quite hot for a guy with greying hair. Tall, dark and handsome, the original. He’s a touchy-feely kind of guy – I can talk to him about anything, and I do. I’ve learnt a lot about sex from him – and not just the emotional stuff you can read in any what-every-girl-should know book. He gave me tips I practised on my boyfriend and, well, let’s just say it worked. He gives the best bear hugs that go on forever if you want it to, and he’s way into photography and science fiction and fantasy stuff like World of Warcraft and Star wars and Lord of the Rings. He’s crazy about fairies, or the idea of them in any case. How can I not be slightly in love with him?
And yeah, I really am. I know you always read about how uncles seduce their nieces, but it’s nothing like that with us. He’s never looked that way at me (and I should know; I’ve caught him looking like that at hundreds of girls before.) He appreciates beauty, but the secret crush I’ve been nursing for him has always been totally one-sided. Sadly. I know he thinks of me as nothing but his sister’s daughter and a good friend to hang out with when his wife is busy. We share the same interests, and we’ll chat for hours about just about anything. I adore him. He’s my idol, and if he has feet of clay, I’ve never discovered them.

Finally, everybody stands up almost simultaneously as the hour long lecture comes to an end, and I follow the throng of people waiting to go down the steps and out the door. The lecturer is still trying to give instructions, but she recognises a lost cause and gives up just as I reach the bottom step.
“Enjoy the break, Professor,” I say as I walk up to her. We know each other quite well, as I’m in another class she teaches, an advanced class with only seven students. I stop to greet her, as there’s a bottleneck situation at the door and it’s always good to make sure you remind your lecturers of your existence every now and them.
She smiles at me now. “Thank you, Mia. The same for you, of course.”
“I’m going to visit my uncle and his wife,” I said, wishing that the visit wouldn’t be as innocent as it sounds. I find myself sometimes just telling people about him, just mentioning him in random conversations, just to make him feel closer to me.
“I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. I’ll be marking test papers and assignments.”
“I e-mailed mine to you last night. I finished it over the weekend so I would be able to relax this week. Well, I’ll see you again soon,” I said as some bright spark got the idea to open the second of the double doors and the bottleneck cleared. She smiled at me and I headed out. My car was parked about a mile from campus – parking was always an issue – and I walked quickly, the sun baking down on me. I couldn’t wait to get to my uncle’s house, slip into a bikini, and dive headfirst into their big pool. They have a really awesome backyard, landscaped to look like a tropical jungle or something. The pool looks like it’s made from rocks, like a natural pond somewhere on a Caribbean island. It even has this big waterfall at one end. Did I mention my uncle is filthy rich?

It’s a two-hour drive, which is about six hours shorter than I’d need to drive if I wanted to go home and far better than the twelve-hour bus ride so many students are undertaking just to go to some beach with strangers, sleep in crappy little rooms with strangers and get drunk with strangers. Woo, fun! I’ll be lounging in a mansion that overlooks the city with a tropical island in the backyard, and spent time with the most wonderful person I know. My room over there is huge, with a walk-in closet the size of my dorm room. The bed is king-sized, with satin sheets and four posters with white hangings. It’s the best bed ever. It has its own bathroom and a sitting area under the window and a balcony. I always feel like a princess is that room.
I get free drinks from the bar in the entertainment room, and there’s a TV so big they almost had to break out a wall to get it in. They have more movies than a music store and couches you get lost in. Plus I get to spend time with the most wonderful person I know. So yeah, the beach sounds like fun, right?
I listen to my favourite mix, singing along as I go. My heart is feeling light and I can’t stop grinning. I can’t wait to see Josh (that’s my uncle’s name) and to feel his strong arms around me.
I fantasize a little as I drive, imagining how it would feel to be kissed by him. Those soft, strong lips teasing mine, coaxing my mouth open as his hands slide under my shirt to cup my breasts.
A fantasy, I knew, that would always remain an empty one.
I make the drive in good time – all the cars seem to be heading out of the city, and I was driving against the stream of cars. When I finally pull up outside the house and open the white electric gate with the opened Josh gave me, I feel like a little girl on the morning of her birthday party. I sent a text to both Josh and Catherine to let them know I arrived safely. Both of them work pretty late and they wouldn’t be here for another couple of hours. The housekeeper helps me to carry my bags upstairs to my usual room and offers to unpack for me while I go take a swim.
The house is seriously beautiful – white pillars, sweeping staircases, wide landings with lush carpets. The colour scheme of my room had changed since I’d last been here, from white and blue to a modern white and black with touches of red. It was so cool.
I got dressed in the bathroom, first washing all the make-up off my face so I don’t have mascara stripes down my face when Josh gets home. That happened once before and he teased me for looking like a clown. Ouch. My bikini is new, a pale gold one that went well with my skin tone and had good support. It made my already-great cleavage even better. I never wear a bikini without shorty shorts. I have great boobs, but my tummy is far from a washboard and I’m a little self-conscious about my inner thighs. I have a good butt, firm and round from the dancing, but I really don’t like my thighs. My middle is pretty cute, though, soft and curving nicely inwards. I’m quite curvy, but not at all fat. I tie a towel around my waist and head down to the pool. In the entertainment room I program a music list with everything from Muse to Taylor Swift and everything in between to play over the hidden speakers in the back. The mellow strains of the Everly Brothers’ ‘all I have to do is dream’ makes me nostalgic as I sit down at the side of the pool, laying my towel out and putting my sunglasses on a little table. I slide into the pool, dreaming my life away as I swim three lazy, floaty laps before settling down on the steps in the shade. I convince one of the servants to bring me a coke and hand me my glasses, and just enjoyed the peace for a while, soaking up the restfulness.
“This is the life,” I tell a little bird sitting on a branch overhead. It trilled a note as if agreeing before taking off. The next second the door to the house slid open and Josh came out. My heart did a familiar, slow flip in my chest, and lust curled low in my belly. I stood up, water cascading down my body as I got out. Josh holds his arms out for a hug.
“There’s my girl,” he says warmly. I grin and walk into his embrace, muttering my greeting as he enfolds me.
“You’re all wet,” he said, not letting me go even as I soak his suit. The irony is not lost on me. He has no idea how wet I am, all over.
“Sorry,” I say and turn my face into his chest, breathing in the subtle scent of his aftershave or cologne or whatever, and the essence that is Josh, which is my favourite smell in the world.
“You’re growing up on me, Mia,” he said, his hands rubbing my back and lingering on my waist as he pushed me away to look at my face. “No more clown masks, I see.”
I nudge him in the side and reach for a towel. “I’m eighteen, you know. All grown up and legal and everything. I’m even allowed to have sex with older men now.”
He laughs his big belly laugh and wraps the towel around me, tucking in the loose ends avuncularly.
“Come on,” he said. “I need a drink.”
“Everything all right?” I ask as we walk back to the house, loving the feeling of his arm around my shoulders.
“Yeah,” he says on a sigh. “Not really. Catherine moved out her last stuff last night. Our divorce went through yesterday. I didn’t want to let you know over the phone.”
I stop, shocked. “What happened?” I asked, horrified for him. He must be hurting so much right now!
He shrugged. “It was very civil. We’ve been drifting apart for so long. She asked me for a divorce, and I agreed to one. It sucks, knowing I fucked up another marriage. I just can’t get it right.”
“It’s not your fault,” I say immediately. “There’s nothing wrong with you, you hear me? Catherine was married to her work before she got married to you. You’re a great guy.”
He smiles a little. “Thanks,” he said quietly and steered me inside. “I’m ok, though. I saw it coming; I just didn’t want to make the first move to end it. I guess I hoped the problem would fix itself.”
“Did you guys consider counselling?” I ask as he took two glasses from the cabinet and started mixing cocktails.
“We spoke about it, but Catherine wants to be alone. The company she works for is sending her to open a branch on the East Coast, so we would have been separated in any case.”
“I’m really sorry,” I say sincerely.