My brother Chris raised her to be respectful,
straightforward, and honest. She brought her natural
brilliance, vivaciousness and loveliness, making her a
very attractive total package. And her hard-working
intelligence and intensity brought her success in
academia, a bachelors degree, a masters degree and an
interest in sociology for which she was studying for her
She had arranged to attend a full week intensive seminar
in my town about 600 miles from the village she grew up
in, where she still lives. She needed a place to stay, I
was a close relative, her uncle, and it seemed natural
that she would stay with me in my spare room.
Certainly I would have no problem having her around, a
vivacious young woman who would live in my life, my
small life, for a short time. My wife of 28 years died
three years ago. Having female company in my house would
be a delight.
She stood at my door, holding a suitcase and a little
duffel bag. I carried them upstairs for her, showed her
to her room, and left her to “freshen up.” She came
downstairs, wearing an iPod, yoga pants and a sleeveless
black leo tank top. She announced she was going for a
run, that she’d be back by around dinner time.
And sure enough, back she came just before dinnertime,
looking flush and ripe from exercising. She helped me
chop some vegetables, stir fried them with a little bit
of chicken and we had a simple dinner with rice and
vegetables. We worked easily together in the kitchen,
laughing as we prepared our food and drank a glass of
wine together. I thought to myself, I’m going to enjoy
these two weeks with Emily.
How little I knew…
Around 9:30, as I was walking by the bathroom, she
emerged, just after her shower. A puff of moisture
billowed out, rife with some heady womanly scent that
clung to the vapor, the scent of her. I admit, I liked
it. After a few minutes, I tapped lightly on her door.
“Come in,” she said. I entered her room.
Emily was tucked up tight in bed, on her back with
everything but her lovely face and hair under the
covers. She slid over as I sat about halfway down the
bed, near her hip. She told me about the seminar she
would be taking, some transpersonal relation seminar, I
guess, I didn’t really understand.
I leaned over and stroked her hair in a fatherly, or
rather, avuncular way and as I straightened, I slid my
hands down lightly, tenderly, over her body, very
lightly across her well-covered shoulders, chest and her
abdomen. I looked at her straightforwardly and said,
“Emily, I’m glad you’re here,” and bent over giving her
a little peck on the forehead.
She smiled demurely and said, “Thank you, Uncle David.”
Next morning, I was at the breakfast table and Emily
waltzed in with a sweet smile on her face. She looked
lovely, a bouncy beauty. Ready for her first day of her
seminar. I offered her some breakfast which she gobbled
right up. She put her dishes in the sink and came back
to the table. “How do I look?” she asked.
She stood straight in front of me, boldly, proudly even.
Emily was wearing soft brown suede shin-hugging boots
with a burst of fringe at the top, black tights, short
(very!), black knit skirt, loose white shirt, and a
long, silky, electric blue scarf around her neck. A
“Just lovely, Em.” I didn’t want to say really how
lovely I thought she looked, being a little embarrassed.
“Turn around for me,” I said, making a little circle
movement with my hand. She rotated slowly around and as
she turned sideways, I could see the light playing over
her curves jutting out front, and more curves proudly
jutting the opposite way, slightly lower. Ravishing.
On an odd impulse, I said “Emily. Put your hands behind
your head.” It came out more as an order than anything
else. She looked at me very strongly, very directly. But
she complied, still staring at me.
“Come closer, Em. Stand here.” Again she complied. She
stood directly in front of me, I gave her the command,
“Turn around again.” And again, she complied.
“You’re a beauty, Em.”
She gave me a big, beautiful smile. She looked at her
watch and her eyes bulged. “Oh my gosh, I’m late!”
She grabbed her bag, smiled, turned and headed down the
hall, and as she got almost to the door, she skipped the
last couple of steps, excited and happy. She turned from
the door and faced me. “Uncle David, thank you so much
for coming in last night. You made me feel so welcome!”
She turned and left.
As one can imagine, I was somewhat aflame during the
course of the day. A meeting with my partner and a new
client went just fine, I don’t think anyone noticed how
distracted I was. Fortunately I was able to focus on our
project, but it seemed that the space between words was
filled with a breathless awareness, a delicious tension.
My few words with Em this morning had flared up a desire
that I hadn’t felt for many years.
I happened to be in the kitchen when she arrived home
about five, fresh from the seminar. As she waltzed in,
she put her 2 bags down and came over to give me a hug,
an A-frame hug. As we loosened up the hug, I put my hand
on her hair, and instead of bailing on the hug, she
relaxed her body fully against me and hummed a toneless
note, a clear sign she was one of those women who loved
to have her hair messed with.
I scratched her scalp and head for a few minutes, and
she purred contentedly. M was having a good time. As I
played with her lush hair, I grabbed a few handfuls of
hair and pulled, noticeably hard. I heard a sharp intake
of breath, and a sigh, not quite a moan of pleasure, but
close. More like a quiver. I held onto her hair for a
full 5 seconds, during which time we both became aware
I released her hair and we disengaged.
“I got two artichokes.”
“Let’s cook together again. It was fun last night.”
I went to the kitchen while she took care of her own
business for a bit, and then she bounced in to join me.
I didn’t look up as I continued to julienne the carrots.
“I’ll just wash my hands.” and she ran the water at the
sink behind me. She dried her hands and came over by the
end of the counter.
“What would you like, Uncle David?”
For some reason, the way she said it made me look up at
her, and I drew in my breath sharply. She, Emily, was
naked, full on naked! My jaw hung inside my closed
mouth. I couldn’t keep my eyes on hers, I had to look at
this beautiful sight in front of me. She struck a little
coy pose as I took inventory, down and back up.
She simply stood, presenting herself, looking at me
sweetly and boldly.
“How can I help you, Uncle David?”
I smiled at her, at what she had done, at the gift she
“Will you wash and dry the lettuce please?”
“You have a spinner?”
“Right there.” I pointed to the cabinet to the right of
Oh, what a joy to watch her move, this beautiful young
woman in my kitchen! Watching her lithe and tender form
move in all the various ways as she reached for things,
bent to pick things up or reached overhead for a glass
or a plate. What a delicious dinner this was, and we
hadn’t even prepared any food yet!
And it was obvious how she relished being looked at and
appreciated. We ate dinner in the garden, thanks to the
high hedges all around, and I got to enjoy the food we
had prepared, as well as, of course, the view. Heavenly!
We finished our dinner just as the mosquitoes arrived
for theirs; we brought in the empty plates, cleaned up
and then she excused herself, citing homework duties.
But not before she gave me an affectionate little peck
on the cheek. As she did, I reflexively moved to put my
arm around her waist but she drew back.
“Uncle David, please, no touching. Is that okay?”
“Of course, Em. I understand.”
She tossed a smile and a wink over her shoulder at me as
she headed down the hall, she knew I would watch. And
how could I not?
Over the next couple of days, I never could predict
whether I would see the lovely and engaging fully
clothed Em or the provocative, the luscious and
lascivious unclothed Em. The provocative one appeared
twice more, just a tease, a wonderful tease. You can
look but you better not touch poison ivy! But what
wondrous moments! And she knew it, she reveled in it.
Saturday night was to be her last at my house. We would
get up early and I would take her to the train station
for the trip home. Needless to say, I would miss the
tantalizing energy that had infused my week. We had a
final, fully clothed dinner together, with a wonderful
red wine that I had been saving for some special
occasion. A pair of filets on the barby, baby lettuces
with vinaigrette, fabulous little cardamom custards from
our local bakery for dessert. And both of us in a
relaxed, slightly sad mood, given our parting tomorrow.
“Uncle David?” she inquired.
“Remember the night I arrived, and you came to tuck me
in, remember? It made me feel so welcome, so at home.
Would you do that again, please, Uncle David.”
“Of course I will, honey, I’ll be glad to.”
And later on, I heard her emerge from the shower again,
I smelled that same smell in the hall, that smell of
Woman that I missed so much, that I would miss all the
more for it having been here so recently. I waited a few
minutes and then approached her door, tapping lightly.
“Come in, Uncle David.”
I walked in and there she was, ready for me. Ready in
the sense that she was her buck-naked-fresh-from-the-
to-her self! She walked saucily, swayingly towards me
and then our arms were around each other, her head on my
chest where she could hear my heart pounding furiously.
Emily looked up at me, offered her lovely lips, and off
we went. All those moves, those loving moves that I
hadn’t practiced in years came back and created an
enthusiastic whirlwind of delight for the next hour and
a half. Emily re-introduced me to it all, reminding me
of the overwhelming pleasure that two people, behaving
as their most animalistic, their most exalted and their
tenderest selves, can produce together.
And when we finished, we lay together aglow, and she
said softly, “Uncle David, thank you. So much, thank
“You really can’t know what you’ve given me, Em. Thank
you. So much, thank YOU!” I kissed the top of her head.
“And Uncle David, one thing please,” she said gravely.
“This never happened.”
“What never happened, Em?”
We never spoke of our week together again, not even to
each other. Our little secret, hers and mine, remained
locked in the past. There was never any awkwardness
between us, only a slightly more tender feeling in our
auras when we were around each other. She knew what I
knew. No one else ever would.