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Foreword: My niece, Helga, had always been my favorite. She is my older sister Caryn’s daughter. It could have been attributed to the fact that she bore a striking resemblance to my younger sister, Anja. For those who haven’t read some of my earlier excerpts, my younger sister and I shared an intense incestuous relationship which started when we were quite young and spanned several years.
Caryn called me to say that Helga was doing badly in Math and wondered if she could spend a couple of months with me so I could tutor her. It was her final year in school and she had to pass Math in order to go on to University. It was summer break and I hadn’t seen Helga in several years so I was looking forward to her visit. It was years later that I learned that Helga had badgered my sister in coming to stay with me.
For those of you looking for a “quick fix” this is not for you. It is sexual but takes a while developing. I have tried to remain true to the events as they took place while protecting the identities of the people involved.
The first week was uneventful as we worked towards establishing a routine. I would wake Helga up in the mornings before I headed for the gym and when I got back, we did an hour’s worth of Math starting with the basics. It was evident that her teacher must have been an ass because Helga was a quick study and was making good progress. On the personal side, I wasn’t used to having someone stay with me, let alone a beautiful eighteen year old but apart from an occasional lapse in privacy, I was getting used to having her around and for most part she was eager to fit in with my routine.
After the math lesson, she would help me with breakfast, which usually consisted of orange juice, eggs, muesli and of course, coffee. We’d chat while she nibbled on her food, drinking her coffee from an oversized mug. I would give her the math assignments and chores for the day before heading out to the office. I was a Design Engineer and owned my own Engineering Services Company with about fifteen employees. I enjoyed my work and being the boss did have its perks one of which was a flexible schedule. This made things convenient while Helga was staying with me.
On most nights we had dinner with Jenny, the new girl in my life. Jenny was the physical antithesis of Helga. She was small and voluptuous with dark hair and hazel eyes. She had something of a Natalie Wood look to her (okay, so I’m stretching) and having grown up in a large city she was a fashion plate, dressing immaculately, abundantly self assured and possessing a sharp wit. She was a cultural bon vivant, up on the latest trends, the music scenes, nightclubs etc. and had a taste for fine wine. Her sophistication may have intimidated Helga a bit but from the beginning I sensed that there was more to this than just an issue of personality. Helga was much quieter when Jenny was around and though she was only a few years younger when compared to Jenny, she seemed immature and naive. I had expected Helga to loosen up with time but she remained introverted around Jenny and usually sat quietly watching us with those smoldering green eyes laughing politely at the silly jokes we made.
One evening after dinner while enjoying a drink of schnapps, Jenny tried engaging Helga in some personal conversation:
“So, what’s your boyfriend like?” she quizzed.
“I don’t have a boyfriend …” Helga smiled and continued sipping her drink. But Jenny wasn’t about to let up and probed further:
“I find that hard to believe – a pretty girl like you?”
“Most of boys in school are jerks and they are so immature … and I don’t have any time. Between training for volleyball and schoolwork, I’m lucky if I get to watch any Telly.” Helga was being earnest but Jenny wasn’t about to give up yet:
“Well, what are you looking for in a guy? Is it the strong silent type or a dark and dangerous rebel or maybe someone nerdy, like Bill Gates; a rich sugar daddy!” She laughed a rich, throaty laugh which normally was very sexy but it was obvious that the topic was making my niece uncomfortable.
Helga looked into her drink, rolling the clear liqueur around in her glass seriously cogitating on the question then she looked up directly at me and just smiled.
“Hey, maybe she’s not ready yet … okay? Anyone for a second round?” I chipped in, trying to deflect the attention from her.
As I got up to refresh my drink, I got a grateful glance from Helga but Jenny was a bulldog:
“You must have someone in mind, someone you like … I used to have such a thing for my Chemistry Teacher, Estaban Blanco.” She said ‘Estaban’ with an exaggerated Spanish flair. “He was from Spain and was stone-gorgeous! He gave me the chills whenever he was near me!”
“My teachers look like Santa Claus …” Helga said and they both laughed.
Helga took a sip of her drink and then looked directly at me. I was at the Wet Bar behind Jenny when we locked eyes. I felt illegal bahis a thrill run through me and was surprised by it. She smiled again and went back to swirling the liqueur in her glass. I’m not sure whether Jenny noticed anything but she was quiet for a while and then:
“Well, take my advice you definitely don’t want someone like Tor … he’s what we girls refer to as a serial heartbreaker.” She had suddenly turned serious. I was surprised by this candid revelation and when I looked over at Helga, she was blushing.
“What are you doing with him then?” She said softly but with an edge to her voice.
At first Jenny didn’t answer then she looked at me almost nostalgically:
“Good question. I don’t know … for a smart woman I’m being pretty dumb, that’s for sure. I guess we all have our weaknesses! Mine is good looking, rakish men.” Her voice was soft and gentle, a side of her I had never seen before. “You want someone who will care for you, Helga, that’s the least you can expect.”
The women looked at each other and then Jenny got up to leave. It could have been the alcohol but suddenly I felt bad for her, she certainly deserved better. As I walked her to her car, I asked:
“What was all that about?”
“She has a major crush on you, Tor, and if you can’t see that then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought you were. So be gentle with her. She’s young and silly and contrary to popular belief, heartbreak is not a good thing; certainly not for a star-struck eighteen old!” Jenny was rarely serious but she wasn’t joking and I felt like a kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I couldn’t explain it — nothing had transpired and I was feeling guilty already!
She gave me a quick kiss and drove away. I stood there watching the taillights fading into the night and recall thinking: I am an idiot. I typically went from dating women who reminded me of Anja to women who were diametrically opposite to her. Jenny fell into the “opposite” category. She was actually quite special; she was beautiful, educated, and incredible in bed. Most men would kill to have her but no matter how hard I would try, when we made love, I could only cum if I pictured Anja in her place. Over the years I had honed my ability to superimpose memory onto reality in a very literal and sexual sense. While fucking Jenny all I had to do was let the images of Anja’s body writhing wildly under me float into my mind and in a very short time I would experience an intense climax. That is how deeply I was locked into my sister — it was sordid and sad but it is what it is.
Like my younger sister, Helga was a natural athlete. Apart from volleyball she played several other sports including field hockey. Many of the larger colleges had scouted her for volleyball and she was assured of an athletic scholarship which was a relief for her mother because colleges were rather expensive. She was a bit taller than Anja and was slender but with curves in all the right places. She was certainly on her way to becoming a stunning woman. Genetics is a strange thing. Caryn and Anja look very different. Both are tall with thick blond hair but that is where the filial resemblance ends. We have some Inuit blood in us and it manifested itself in Anja’s skin tone. The dark, copper-golden hue of her skin was the envy of the village and she was often mistaken for an Italian. The rest of us look typically Nordic; light and blond. Strangely, Helga inherited the same skin tone as Anja along with the pouting mouth, a cute small, aquiline nose, accentuated by high cheekbones and exuded the same sexual aura.
Men had begun to notice Helga a few years earlier when she was in her early teens and I recall Caryn worrying about one of the older boys in the neighborhood who had a reputation for being a thug and had been pestering Helga. He was getting bolder by the day and even had the audacity to grab her ass as she walked home from school. After talking to Helga about the problem, I made a trip over and had a word with the overzealous culprit which put an end to that. Later, his mother had complained to Caryn that I had roughed up her boy bloodying his nose and threatening his life; all of which was true but the punk never bothered Helga again.
Needless to say that Helga saw me as her knight in white armor. At the time of the incident, she was, thirteen or fourteen, and her girlish adoration was, to be honest, flattering. I had to smile at the large poster she had taped over her bed — it was a picture of me surfing in Costa Azul. I thought it was sweet but in hindsight, I should have seen some of this coming. Until recently, she used to write me letters and some of them contained subtle innuendos professing love but I never thought much of it chalking it up to her hormones. It had obviously morphed into more than just a schoolgirl’s crush.
Her usual attire around the house consisted of jogging pants with a t-shirt; the tops falling into two categories: skimpy and illegal bahis siteleri oversized. In both cases she preferred going braless, au naturel, and I had to catch myself from being too obvious while ogling her. She was also very affectionate and one evening while watching TV, she came over and sat on my lap and laid her head on my shoulder. She didn’t say anything and after watching the tube for a while she fell asleep in my arms. I tried hard to distract myself to avoid reacting to her but my mutinous body succumbed and I felt my cock engorge and harden. I was embarrassed and glanced surreptitiously at her. This was skimpy day and I caught an eyeful of her firm, fleshy tits which only added to my predicament. I could feel my penis throbbing indiscreetly against her thighs close to the curve of her behind, being urged on by the damp heat radiating from her body. I also felt a change in her breathing as it got heavier but she remained sleeping or so I assumed. Later as I tucked her into bed, I caught the faint musk of her; an aphrodisiacal aroma which would linger with me for hours and had me tossing and turning in a state of somnambulistic arousal.
Shortly after that, our relationship began a rather rapid metamorphosis. One morning, towards the end of the second week, when I went to wake Helga up I noticed that the door was ajar — this was unusual because she normally closed her door at night. I walked in and saw her lying on her side curled up in a ball, her hair a glittering sea of gold strewn in careless waves about her face. There is something inherently fascinating about a woman sleeping, something which is most probably imprinted onto the male gene; she lay there bathed in angelic innocence, so vulnerable yet emanating the powerful undercurrents of sexuality eliciting the paradoxical response of wanting to protect and needing to ravish. I stood watching for a moment, speculating the enigma, before deciding to wake her up.
“Hey, Helga … Helga, wake up!” I gently shook her by her feet.
“Mmmmm …” was the sleepy response and then she stretched languidly, reminiscent of a wild, golden feline.
“Come on, Helga, it’s getting late … get up!”
She rolled over onto her back and in doing so the bed-sheet she used as a blanket to cover herself, pulled away revealing her breasts. She was sleeping in the nude or at the least, topless — it was unexpected and stunning!
They were perfect; burnished mounds like grapefruit halves capped with small, dark areoles and pointed hard nipples. Her boobs were slightly larger than Anja’s and I stood hypnotized like a juvenile getting his first glimpse of a woman’s mammary glands! My cock began to harden immediately and form the telltale tent in my trousers. I wanted to leave but was unable to move as though compelled by some greater force cementing me to the floor. And as I watched the unconscious ecdysiast, I felt a strange sense of déjà vu; the feeling of being transported back to the time I spied on my younger sister through a peephole in my closet. Anja had been lying on her bed masturbating, her hand buried inside her panties furtively rubbing herself while she pulled on her nipples. I had watched in a salacious stupor while stroking my cock to the rhythm of her unintentional exhibitionism — a tortured voyeur stealing illicit moments from his sister’s secret cache of sensuality.
Now here I was trapped again in a morass of uncertainty where psychosomatic allegory overrides the dimensions of reality contravening the quantum of time and space. I was unable to separate myself from the past, tied by the steely threads of our history which bound me permanently to my sister. But now, stoked by the flames of past indiscretions licking incessantly at the frayed ropes of my self control I felt them snap setting free the carnal beast within, insatiable and engorged with lust. Without thought, I reached down for my cock, lasciviously stroking the rigid stern through the satiny material of my pajama trousers. It was then that I heard her gasp; a fleshy, female sigh accompanied by the rustle of sheets as her hand moved lazily upward towards her breasts and through the misty haze of my lecherous vision, I saw her eyes flutter open and then shut again while her fingers sensually caressed her burgeoning body. I have no idea where this would have led but the strident sound of the phone ringing snapped me out of my reverie. I spun on my heels and literally fled the room without looking back at her.
There was going to no math lesson this morning. I didn’t want to wait — I wasn’t sure if I could face her or even control myself so I skipped my workout, took the world’s quickest shower and left for the office. I was angry and confused and still very aroused. I had underestimated the effect Helga would have on me now that she was older and looked so much more like Anja. Luckily the day was a busy one and I had meetings and phone calls which kept me distracted. My rational self knew that canlı bahis siteleri I should plan a business trip and send Helga home. Caryn would understand — business is business. But there was a reckless streak in me and I was about to roll the dice.
Towards the end of the day, my secretary buzzed to tell me that my niece was on the phone. Helga had never called me at work so I was a bit concerned wondering if the morning’s episode had upset her — I suddenly felt stupid; I had been stroking my cock in clear view of her. What was I thinking? What if she called her mother? Or, what if she spoke to Anja, they were pretty close. My mind flooded with a million “what ifs”:
“Hi, honey, what’s up?” I was trying to sound as normal as I could.
“Hi Uncle Tor … it’s nothing, I just wanted to chat. Is this a bad time?” She sounded like a little girl but I was relieved.
“No … of course not, I’m glad you called. Are you okay?” I was probing.
“I’m fine!” Her energy suddenly picked up “more than fine, really, uh… when are you coming home?” Then, a pause and hesitantly “I miss you …”
This made my day and I felt an overwhelming sense of relief.
“I miss you more, baby girl. Do you want to eat in? I could pick-up some Chinese.”
“That sounds nice …” then softly, “come home soon. I love you.” She sounded happy again.
“Love you back, baby, I’ll see you soon.” I hung up; excited as a schoolboy about to go on his first date. I struggled with my conscience trying to rationalize the complete happiness I felt and knew that this was headed into something I could never control.
That evening when I walked through the door, she jumped off the couch and nearly knocked me off my feet with her hug. We almost tumbled over. Helga is a little over five feet ten weighing in at about 130 pounds and is a pretty strong lass.
“Hey, wow … you must really like Chinese!”
She made a face and smiled. I could feel her pressing against me and my body reacted; my mind was beginning to cloud with desire but my sense of higher reasoning hadn’t quite abdicated. While she was setting the table, I left to freshen up. I washed my face and cleared my head before returning to the kitchen. We ate in silence, exchanging covert glances like coconspirators planning subterfuge; every look revealing more of the promiscuous blueprint. She got up to get some juice from the fridge and when she returned she hugged me from the rear, her thick mane cascading about us:
“Thanks, Eno …” She rarely used the Finnish term for Uncle and this had me wondering if any of this was healthy. I should have learned from the lessons of the past but here I was stumbling into another incestuous relationship with my eyes wide open. I was concerned about her — she was still very young.
It is unlikely that the morning’s incident by itself could create the overt transition which was taking place. It had, after all, begun as an understandable and innocent intrusion of her privacy. And I realized that it was not just me but both of us were guilty of playing a variegated game and as the evening would reveal, the stakes were about to be raised.
Later, as I walked by her room it was obvious that this was now a no holds barred struggle; a high-stakes game of sexual poker and despite her inexperience, she was the first to place her bet. Her door was wide open and the room dark, except for the light above the vanity which lit her up like some iridescent apparition. She was almost naked wearing only the scantiest of panties and stood with her back to me, combing her flaxen hair. She had wanted me to see her, there could be no doubt, but when she saw me standing by the door she instinctively brought her arms up to cover herself. I was harder than I ever remembered being, my cock throbbing painfully in my trousers while I stood there, hypnotized like a deer caught in headlights. Anja and I had played similar games when we were younger allowing each other fleeting glimpses of our juvenile bodies, getting steadily more audacious until we masturbated for each other, then did each other until in a fit of passion, I actually fucked her. However, in this instance we weren’t kids and both Helga and I knew what was at stake. We stared at each other through the reflections in her mirror; now strangers taking in every nuance of every move. Then very deliberately she dropped her arms exposing herself to me again, vulnerable yet secure in the rashness of youth, and continued brushing her hair never looking away from me.
The gauntlet was thrown and it was up to me now. I could call or raise the ante but instead, I folded. I could still stop this; my mind screamed: Anja, Anja … my little sister … what have you done to me. This was my sexual albatross and each time I was challenged, I reverted to my first and most intense experience. I stumbled back and headed quickly to the master bedroom which was diagonally across the corridor from her room. I closed the door and releasing my straining member, stroked myself to visions of her body quickly culminating in an intense orgasm. I was sapped both emotionally and physically and lay across my bed, falling asleep almost immediately.
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