I stored the luggage and watched Kitty adjust her thighs in the Torino's lucky seat. Putting the key in the switch I gunned the engine and shoved the air conditioner into high.
"Gloria and I have been divorced for some time, Kitty," I told her. "We… that is… our marriage had already fallen apart. She met someone she felt could make her happy and that's that."
I didn't know what her reaction would be, but I wasn't expecting the calm, "I'm glad, Uncle Steve. I never did like her. I couldn't tell you, back then. Now, I'm not going to pretend."
"Tell me about you," I said, wanting to change the subject. I paid the parking fee and we slid out onto the highway. "I'm glad to see you, of course. But what's with the sudden visit?"
It was Clyde's aunt, an aging recluse with a million in blue chips and a weak heart. Clyde was at the top of her potential list of inheritors and when she farted, Clyde and Nadine were there with quivering nostrils. The old woman had summoned them for the annual deathbed blessing and they were afraid Kitty's presence might lessen their persuasive powers. They had shoved her onto a plane, wired me, and caught another for Boston.
"So," she concluded, moving over as far as the seatbelt would permit and dropping a hand to my thigh, "you're stuck with me for the week."
I didn't try to interpret the gesture. My balls were doing their own translation and I was afraid my prick would drop out and get tangled up in the steering wheel. From the heat of those fingers, I wanted to ask if she was running a fever.
"I've got plenty of room," I said weakly. "Can you cook?"
The fingers squeezed and retreated. "I've learned to do a lot of things since I saw you last, Uncle Steve."
Was it a suggestion? Goddamn the generation gap! How was I supposed to react?
"Uhhh! How's school?"
She shrugged and the melons made little points in the blouse. "I start high school this fall. Ask me then."
We were back in civilization and I covered my confusion by pointing out some of the more interesting sights. While she stared at the scenery, what little was visible at that hour, I stared at her and my cock began making a damned nuisance of itself by creating a wet, sticky patch in my slacks.
She oohed and ahhed over the apartment building and I used one of the cases to cover my crotch as I led the way to the elevator and told her which button to push. So far as I was concerned, she had already punched all of mine.
I showed her into my place and carried the cases into the spare bedroom, pointing at the bathroom door.
"You can freshen up in there," I told her. "My bedroom is on the other side." Then I added, "There's a lock on both doors, so we won't have a traffic jam."
She paused in the doorway, dropping one hip and letting her thigh relax. My God! Was she actually rubbing her crotch against the edge of that door?
"Uncle Steve," she said softly. "Would you fix me a big, cold drink?"
"Sure," I nodded. "Coke? Seven-Up?"
"No, silly!" she smiled. "Gin! With just a little Seven-Up and lemon. I'm a big girl now."
I hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"That I'm a big girl?" she teased.
"I meant the drink."
"I'm sure."
While she rattled around in the bathroom, I hurried out and into my own room, changing slacks before concocting the requested drink. I argued with myself over the amount of gin I should pour and lost the debate. I figured the ratio of gin to the fizz at about six to one. With a shrug, I mixed another for myself, placing them both on the coffee table.
When Kitty didn't show after ten minutes, I called out, "Are you okay?" The shower had cut off long ago.
"I'll be out in a minute!" she answered, her voice coming from the open bedroom door. "I've got a surprise for you."
I sank down on the couch and bounced right up again as she floated down the hall and into the room, spinning about to give me a multi-angled view. She had changed from the blouse and skirt to a combination that loosened my knees and dropped me back onto the couch, my mouth and eyes both gaping at the arousing sight.
It was a negligee of some new synthetic. I suspected, from the sheerness of the material, that it had been spun by a very weak spider. Whatever it was, it didn't succeed in hiding what was underneath, and that was plenty.
Kitty's hips, at first glance, appeared bare. Then I saw the narrow band supporting the little panel which hugged her plump crotch. Since the panel was a soft yellow, matching her shoulder-length hair, it gave the illusion of being the pubic counterpart of those soft waves. I caught myself wondering if her cunt hair was blonde.
Her breasts were completely bare except for that filmy drape and my cock strained its head for a closer look. The view was well worth the effort. Kitty's tits could have been lifted from one of those sexy drawings a national magazine used to feature. The upper slope was a perfect are, beginning high on her rib cage and curving only slightly until it reached a point about midway to the prominent nipple. From there, the curve became more pronounced, reaching into the reddish-brown of her, dainty areole and terminating in the slight upward tilt of the even daintier tip.
The lower portion of those mounds was a firm roundness, giving the breasts a lift no bra could hope to duplicate. They were still jiggling when she stopped her twirling and stood directly in front of me, her green eyes shining and her pelvis thrust forward just enough to make my balls ache.
From the breasts, the rib cage swept inward to flatten for the beginning of her flawless belly with its deeply indented navel. The belly itself was an expanse of creamy smoothness with just a hint of roundness until it disappeared behind the crotch patch. There it bulged significantly, the mound divided by a vertical depression in the yellow cloth that I readily identified as the gateway to a better world.
"Do you like it?" she asked hopefully.
I nodded unwilling to trust my voice. If my stare embarrassed her, she gave no indication of it. She turned again more slowly, and my breath sucked in as the pink cheeks of her ass paused for inspection. From that angle, the supporting bands for that damned yellow triangle were completely invisible and she seemed to be utterly naked.
She picked up the drink and I fully expected the ice cubes to start sizzling. She took an experimental sip, then lowered the level by half with several healthy gulps.
"Wow!" she gasped. "That's good! Mother always skimps on the gin."
I covered my confusion by following her lead, raising the glass in a silent salute to the eye-widening outfit. By the time I lowered the glass, she had drained hers.
"Better take it easy," I cautioned. "That's pretty strong stuff."
"I don't care," she exclaimed, waving the glass in the direction of my corner bar. "You'll look after me. Mind if I fix another one?"
"Fix two of them," I suggested, polishing off my own and extending the glass. "We'll look after each other."
I tried to watch everything at once as she moved across the room and the strain made my eyes water. Sleek thighs rippled in sinuous motion, buttocks rose and fell, breasts swayed and jiggled as much as their firmness would permit, and her belly seemed to roll in a voluptuous dance in the mere act of walking. She noted my expression and paused with the gin bottle lifted.
"Is something wrong, Uncle Steve?"
If she was putting me on, the kid deserved an Academy Award. Her face was innocent of any effort to deliberately arouse me or awareness that she had already done so. I was just good old Uncle Steve, a member of the family and the character who used to lend his knee as her horsie. That conclusion made things worse than ever. She was innocent and I was sitting there with a hard that might explode at any minute.