Gimme Shelter

by SalaciousSatyr

story tags: incest, niece, uncle, camgirl, porn, slow_burn,
exhibitionism

https://www.literotica.com/s/gimme-shelter


https://www.literotica.com/s/gimme-shelter

After years apart, Harry takes in his runaway niece

Page 1 of 3 page(s) (19985 characters)

*/Satyr here! A new story bug bit me, and I'm extra proud of this one.
It's a slow burn, so don't expect sex right away. This is an incest
story between a man and his niece, and will likely cover plenty of
uncomfortable topics and content. If you don't like, then please find a
story more suited to your taste. As always, I greatly appreciate
leaving a rating behind when you're done, and I am a total slut for
comments. Thanks, and enjoy!/*

*Chapter One*

After the third ignored call, the phone buzzed itself off my desk. I
caught it before it hit the ground and looked at the caller. I hated
getting calls during work. Grimacing, I typed a quick away message on
my laptop and answered the phone.

"Hey Shannon, what's --"

"Harry, Emmie has run away. For real this time." My sister wasted no
time in getting to the point. She could be blunt that way, dramatic
even. "Michael doesn't know where she is, but he's on the warpath. Has
she contacted you? Has he?"

I frowned. "I haven't talked to Michael in over five years now. I can't
believe you still do, after what he did." Our older brother was far
from my favorite person, but Shannon cared about family bonds enough to
try to keep the three of us together. It didn't work, but she never
gave up.

"Oh come on, we made it out okay, but that doesn't matter right now."
Her voice was sharp, insistent, and breathy. "Emmie ran away, and left
basically everything behind. Michael said she took a suitcase of
clothes and ran out in the middle of the night."

"What did the asshole do this time?" I asked, looking at my laptop and
the messages waiting for me from work. I almost wished I ignored the
phone call, but if Emmie was out on her own, it was better I knew. Out
of all my niblings, she was my favorite. She didn't deserve to have a
bastard like Michael as a father.

"It's not what he did," Shannon said. Her voice dropped even further,
like she was sharing juicy gossip instead of worrying about our niece.
"Emmie's a pornstar! Michael found out and chewed her out. He demanded
she stop and get counseling and a real job, and she refused. So she ran
away. He's already canceled her cards and put out a report of a stolen
car."

Of course he did. Of course he fucking did. I sighed and rubbed my
eyes. Emmie had always been a strong-willed young woman. I hadn't seen
her since she was 14, about a year after her mother had died. Michael
lost it and tightened his grip on her, and screwed both me and Shannon
over when our own parents passed. With a control freak like him for a
father, I wasn't surprised Emmie became a sex worker.

"Look, Shannon, the only time I've talked to her in the past five years
was when she called me for my birthday and then got in trouble for it.
I told her to not contact me unless she really needed me, and -- "

"Well, that's what I'm calling about! If she does contact you, would
you please call Michael so he can get her?"

I loved my sister, but sometimes I wanted to strangle her. "Fuck no.
She's an adult and can make her own decisions, and I can't fault her
for wanting to escape. If she asks me for help, I'll do whatever she
needs to get away from him. I will not do /anything/ to help him,
ever."

There was a pause, and then Shannon sighed. "C'mon Harry, that was so
long ago. He may have gotten the money, but we both got houses, didn't
we?"

"Bye now," I said before I hung up, one hundred percent unwilling to
have that conversation again. My phone went back to the desk, and I
stared at it balefully.

She wasn't entirely wrong. I didn't care about the money our brother
stole from us, it was the betrayal and the rationalizations. It was the
way he cracked after Melinda died and became a different, worse person.
More than anything, I hated him from keeping me and Emmie apart.

My former wife and I had never had children, and Emmie was the kid I
always wished I could have. She was a scrapper, and she'd been
devastated when her mother died and she had no one for support. I tried
to be there, and then Michael had to pull his shit. With a scowl, I
returned to my work, answering a few questions from coworkers about
vaccinations and Thailand. It was the fifth time they'd asked.

I did my best to focus on my travel agency. Despite being in the
internet age, we had plenty of clients coming and going to all corners
of the globe, and I was a wizard in connecting people to their dream
vacations and making sure all their plans worked. Others scoffed, but I
enjoyed it, and especially enjoyed being high up enough to work from
home.

It gave me the space to be distracted, and, try as I might, no work was
getting done by me anytime soon. Right as I was about to tell Wesley I
was going to go on break, my phone buzzed once for a text.

This time it wasn't Shannon, but an unknown number.

*if emmie calls you, call me right away. shes not well and needs help*

My blood boiled. Instead of going on break, I used my executive
privilege to take a half day. My mood had dropped, and it was only
going to get worse. I texted back, carefully choosing my words.

*If Emmie calls me, I'm going to get her as far away from you as
possible. Out of the country, even. Don't ever contact me again unless
it's to apologize and give back what you stole.*

And as soon as it was sent, I blocked him, as I had on five different
phone numbers throughout the years. Angry as I was, this called for a
beer at noon, maybe two.

I really did love my house, even if I hated how I got it. It had been
our parents', and had size, location, and no mortgage to worry about.
Shannon and I may not have gotten our share of the money, but not
having to pay much for housing was a game changer. I grabbed a nice
stout and sat at the island in the center of the kitchen. There, I let
myself brood for a bit.

My phone buzzed again, continuing for a minute before stopping. Then it
started again. Groaning, I gave in to the inevitable. It was an unknown
number, same area code as before.

"Look Michael, I don't care what you have to say, I'm not helping you."

There was silence, and then in a shaken, familiar voice, "Uncle Harry?"

I straightened immediately. "Emmie! Are you okay? Your dad's just shy
of sending the hounds after you."

She laughed, and the sound broke my heart. Five years with only one
phone call. I hadn't realized how much I missed her before now. "I
wouldn't put it past him. I had to get out. I can't ever go back."

I nodded, then realized like an idiot that she couldn't see me. "Where
are you now?"

Another pause. "If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell my dad
or Aunt Shannon."

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

She sighed with the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I'm around
the corner from the bus station. Cops looked for me, but I gave them
the slip. I can't go back, but he's got everyone looking for me,
telling everyone I'm mentally unstable."

I couldn't help myself. "Well, I could've told you /that/."

Her laughter was sharp, and shocked. Relief flooded me. "Maybe, but not
because I'm a hoe."

"So it's true?" I took a drink of my beer, needing to steady myself.

"Yeah, it's true. I'm a camgirl, and I've been saving up to get out.
Dad found out and he trashed my stuff and took everything from me. I
took his car, but ditched it and my phone so he couldn't find me. And
since I'm not back or locked up in a hospital, I'm going to guess he
didn't have me microchipped like a dog without me knowing."

Emmie had called me, trusted me with her location, and was about to ask
for help. I beat her to it. "Do you need a place to stay, or help
getting out of the state?"

"...I need a place to stay, if that's not too much trouble. I know how
long it's been, and it's a lot to ask since Dad won't ever stop hunting
me, but -- "

"Emmie," I cut through her growing panic. "It's okay, you can stay in
my guest room for as long as you need. The only way he's taking you
back is through me, I promise." It was probably an idiotic thing for me
to do, but I couldn't help myself. "You know the old Mexican food place
about a mile from there?"

"Yeah, of course," said Emmie. "We loved it, Dad hated it, so we never
went back. Oh! So he won't think to search for me there!"

I chuckled. "Yeah, exactly. I'll be there as soon as I can. Order me
some birria quesadillas, and we'll talk things over. Okay?"

"Okay. Thank you so much, Uncle Harry. There's no one else I could
trust, really. None in this state at least."

We hung up, and I poured the rest of the beer down the sink. It broke
my heart to waste it, but I wasn't going to be even a little tipsy when
rescuing my niece. I hopped into my car and drove the half an hour it
took to get there.

When I pulled into the parking lot of Papa Caliente's, a cop car with
flashing lights and sirens sped by, towards the bus station. My stomach
dropped, but I put it out of my mind and entered the restaurant.

The dimly lit, brightly painted place was half full with locals,
chatting energetically in a mix of Spanish, with only the occasional
snippets of English. I loved places like this. The guy up front held up
a finger for one. I shook my head.

"My party is already here. Should be a young woman, on her own and..."

The man's eyes lit up. He nodded enthusiastically and jerked a thumb to
the booth just around the corner. He looked pleased about something. I
thanked him and went around. The booth came into view, and I understood
what he was pleased about.

I hate to use the cliche, but Emmie had grown up. She was still the
tiny, pixie-like girl she'd been as a young teen, but...fuck. I hated
that my reflex was to go, /Oh, yeah, she could easily be a pornstar./
She had short, spiked black and red hair and a faceful of makeup that
was somewhere between goth and alt model. She wore a top that ended
well above her belly button and hugged her breasts snugly, showing the
impressions of her piercings. Short shorts and combat boots completed
the outfit.

Upon seeing me, she stood up and threw herself at my midsection. I
caught my niece and hugged her tightly. Her striking, provocative
appearance flew out of mind and, for a second, she was 14 again and
hugging me goodbye before the family split. She was still over a foot
shorter than me, so it wasn't hard to imagine. I squeezed harder, and
she did as well.

"God, I can't believe I missed you growing up," I whispered, finally
breaking away but keeping her close. "You, uh. Not to be weird, but you
look good. Healthy and...well, confident." I grinned sheepishly.

Fire flashed in her eyes. "You going to say it's too much too?"

"Whoa, whoa," I lowered my voice. "Not at all. Unlike your Dad and
Aunt, I don't look down on you for what you do. It's just different!"

Emmie laughed, shrinking. "Sorry, after the past few days...Look, the
birria just came out."

We got into the booth, me sitting across from her. My plate of birria
mini-quesadillas waited, along with a tall glass of water. I wasted no
time in taking a bite and groaning. "Oh God, worth the trip just for
this."

"Don't be weird," said Emmie. She dipped her fingers in her water and
flicked it at me, like she'd done as a child. "I really appreciate you
coming, though."

I took another bite and chewed it slowly. "You want to give me the
rundown on what happened? Your Aunt told me the version she heard from
your dad, but I know better than to trust it. All I know is he found
out you're...a camgirl, was it?" I instinctively lowered my voice.

Emmie didn't. "Yes, I'm a camgirl. It's good money, and I love what I
do." Her bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief. "I was saving up to
get out, maybe move in with a friend, but when Dad found out, he
destroyed almost everything I have. I've got my own account he doesn't
know about and some money, but not enough to start over."

I nodded. "Don't worry about that. You've got a place to stay,
rent-free, and I'll take care of you. You can build up your savings and
move anywhere you want. I'll run interference if I have to."

Tears welled up in her eyes but didn't fall. "Thank you! Thank you so,
so much. I'm sorry it's been this long, Uncle Harry. I missed you."

Reaching forward, I took her tiny hand in mind and squeezed. "It's not
your fault, squirt. I put all of the blame on Michael. Whatever I can
do, I will. Within reason."

Emmie chewed on her bottom lip. "Uncle Harry...My job is important to
me. You're not going to stop me from doing it, are you?"

I shook my head. "No, I have nothing against it. But I do have some
ground rules I'm serious about. As in, break these at your own peril,
understand?" At her nod, I continued. "No illicit drugs. I don't care
if you smoke weed. Hell, I'll share mine."

"That's reasonable," she said. "I've seen what coke and other shit has
done to some of my friends. That's not a problem."

"No boys over at all," I counted the next one off on my fingers.
"You're a grown-ass woman and you can date or fuck anyone you want, I
don't care, but you aren't bringing them to my house."

"Also fair! Honestly, dating sucks. Most men would either judge me, or
end up wanting to be my pimp. I've seen some bad shit with my friends."

Emmie sipped from her straw, eyes locked on mine. I looked right back,
trying to memorize the slight differences in her face, and the way she
chose to express herself. She was like an alternate version of her
mother at that age, right down to the faces she made and her body
language.

"Those are the two big ones, really." I made a face and finished off
the first of three mini-quesadillas. "Everything else should be common
sense. I'm not going to be on your ass while you're here, but do us
both a favor and keep some layer of separation between me and your
work, and we're good."

A stricken look came across her face. "I'm going to need to order a
bunch of things for my stream, since Dad destroyed it all. The only
thing I've got are my clothes and my laptop. I need to get a new phone,
and a decent bit of equipment. I have the money for it, but it's going
to clean me out."

I shrugged. "I'll cover the cell phone if you want to get the rest. And
then, when you're ready to move on, you can get your own phone and give
me that one. Don't worry, Emmie. It's going to be okay."

The look of gratitude on her face would've been worth it, even if
nothing else did. Her being a camgirl didn't bother me, but there /was/
a part, deep down, that was a little uncomfortable seeing her as a
sexual creature. I'd get used to it, and most importantly, I promised
myself I wouldn't make it weird.

That promise lasted a week.

*Chapter Two*

It didn't take too long for Emmie to make herself comfortable, and to
build back up. At first we agreed on a week break to catch her breath
and clear her head. I put her in the room opposite the master bedroom,
to make damned sure that she wouldn't keep me up with her activities.
It and another bedroom were connected via a bathroom between them, so
there would be no worry of running into her late at night.

In that time, I got to reconnect with my favorite family member. During
the day I worked like usual, but in the evenings we'd order pizza and
watch a movie, or talk about our lives. She grilled me about my
divorce, and I asked her about the possibility of school and the
future. We talked about everything except my brother, and her need to
flee. We came close, though.

"When and why did you start camming?" I asked, three days later on the
couch. The question had gnawed at me from the start, but I tried to
pick the right time for it. Turns out, the right time was while an
episode of Jeopardy! played in the background.

Emmie's face darkened, and her makeup enhanced the vengeful fallen
angel look. "Partly to spite my dad," she answered.

"I appreciate the honesty," I said, "and I kind of expected that.

"It wasn't just that, though," she continued. "It's exciting, and after
my dad's bullshit, I needed to let loose and go wild. Turns out I like
it, and people like me. It's not something I'm going to do forever, but
it's great for right now. I feel powerful doing it, and some people
don't like that."

The answer satisfied me, and I grunted my acknowledgement as the
commercials ended and we went back to competing over who had the
question. There were more questions I could've asked, but I didn't want
to make her uncomfortable. Later, I would laugh at my idiocy.

Throughout the week, packages arrived on my doorstep with the name
Dahlia Damnation on it. The first time, I'd been surprised, and then
amused. I brought the pile inside and left them on the kitchen table.

As amusing as her pseudonym was, I'd fully intended on not knowing it.
On the other hand, knowing the name meant I could avoid it during my
late night masturbation sessions before bed. I can honestly say that
first, there was no temptation. Emmie was a beautiful young woman, but
I was just relieved that she was okay and comfortable with me. End of
story.

In the meantime, I focused on work.

Now, I love my job. My team is great, and I often don't need to do much
more than answer questions, and occasionally deal with a whale who
wanted a round-the-world trip but couldn't afford a private jet. It
gave me plenty of time to fuck around on my computer and watch cat
videos.

That said, it got pretty boring at times, and I found myself stepping
away from the computer more and more often. Emmie was, it turned out,
something of a workaholic. One time I walked in to bother her and see
what was on TV, only to find her hunched over her own laptop, typing
away.

I didn't mean to pry or be invasive, but I saw several chat windows
open over a video selling website. When I realized what I was looking
at, I looked away and coughed. Emmie looked over her shoulder at me,
not self conscious at all.

"Hey, what's up Uncle Harry?" she asked, nonchalantly minimizing the
web page but not the chat windows.

"Not much," I said, "just bored and wanted to see what you were doing.
And maybe if you could entertain me. Got any fun tricks?"

Her smile turned wicked. "None that I could show /you/. I'm just
messaging some of my regulars, telling them a little about my situation
and running a sale on old videos."

More than anything, I was glad she was so comfortable with me that
she'd just speak about it. But at the same time, I still saw her as a
weird version of the fourteen year old I'd last seen. Each day it got
better, but moments like this still threw me.

"Trying to get a bunch of money fast?" I asked.

Emmie nodded and ran a hand through her dark hair, making sure it was
properly tousled. "I've almost got everything I need, but I'm short a
couple hundred. I should have it by the end of the week."

My curiosity got the better of me. "What is it?"

She sighed. "A new laptop. This one is fine for the business side of
things, but not as great for video editing. The one I want isn't
cheap."

It should've ended with me shrugging and wishing her well. Instead, my
phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and sighed. Holding up a
finger to my mouth I answered, "Hi Shannon."

"Harry, have you heard anything from her? Michael is getting more and
more worried."

I rolled my eyes. "No Shannon, I haven't seen or heard from Emmie.
She's probably holed up with a friend somewhere. If she doesn't want to
be found, she's not going to be."

Emmie covered her mouth to stifle the laughter. A second later she
mouthed 'thank you' to me. I grinned and waved her off as my sister
continued.

"Do you think we should look up her friends? If she's online, and still
performing, maybe it's best if we -- "

"It's best if we give her space and trust her to come back when she's
good and ready," I interjected. "Seriously Shannon, please leave it
alone. I know you want to bring us all back together and make sure
we're one big, happy family, but there comes a time when you just have
to let go."

Gimme Shelter

by SalaciousSatyr (UID 3742515)

https://www.literotica.com/s/gimme-shelter

After years apart, Harry takes in his runaway niece

Page 2 of 3 page(s) (19990 characters)

Silence, then, "How would you know? You don't have any kids. You don't
know what it's like to worry like this!"

My gut twisted. I wanted kids, but Helen hadn't. "That's a low blow,
Shannon. I'm hanging up now."

"Wait --"

I not only hung up but turned my phone off

Emmie whistled. "She's nearly as cracked as my dad."

"She means well," I said. "She's just not great at showing it. I love
her, but she can be an idiot sometimes."

A smirk slowly took over. "How did you end up the only good one in the
family?"

"If I did, you're the only one who thinks so. Helen sure didn't." I
laughed bitterly. The brief phone call had gotten under my skin, even
if I didn't want to admit it.

"Helen was a dumb, snooty bitch," Emmie almost snarled. "You deserved
better than her."

Her vehemence surprised me, but it made me all warm and fuzzy just the
same. "I appreciate that. Maybe eventually I'll date again and I'll get
what I deserve. Now, about that laptop..."

Emmie frowned, and I couldn't help but notice how cute the little pout
she'd always had was. It had only gotten cuter with age and new
intensity. "It might take me a few days, but I only need to sell like
fifty videos to afford it."

And then she'd be cleaned out again, until she could get work. Michael
had really screwed her over, all because he couldn't handle his
daughter growing up, or doing something he disapproved of. I'd already
gotten her a new phone, and this laptop would be nearly as expensive.
But if she had most of the funds already...

"I'll cover you, and you can get me back later," I said. "If this will
help you get to work and make money faster, then we should do it."

My niece gaped, but only for a second. Then she got off the couch and
hugged me, burying her face in my chest. I wrapped my arms around her
and returned the embrace with one arm. The other hand went up to her
hair, where I messed it up further. She laughed into my chest, and took
a long, deep breath.

We stayed like that for several seconds, just long enough for me to
wonder if I should feel awkward. I didn't, though the back of my mind
told me it should've been. Eventually I pulled away, and asked, "So
what's the deal with Dahlia Damnation?"

She burst out laughing and sat back down. "A few things. One, is that I
like alliteration."

"Naturally. Good call."

Her grin grew wicked. "My logo is Double D's, which is some good
advertising."

Through herculean effort, I kept my eyes on hers. Judging by the
twinkle in her own, she knew exactly how difficult it was. The only
clothes she brought with her were either revealing, or tight enough to
show off. I promised myself I'd get used to it, and not be weird around
my fucking niece. "Yeah, that's a good idea too."

"And finally," she ticked the last off on her fingers, "I'm inspired by
an old internet porn legend, Liz Vicious."

"Ahh," I said, instantly remembering her face plastered across
countless adult site banners, back when I was her age. "I can see it.
And now I need to go bleach my eyes, excuse me."

We both laughed as I walked back to my office. It didn't bother me, I
reminded myself. And I wasn't going to picture things too clearly. But
as I got back to the slow monotony of work, my mind did wander a few
places. Not to my niece, but to women in general, porn, and how long
I'd been alone.

Not too long after, I took an official break to work out my
frustrations with the rowing machine I kept in there for my pre-work
warm-up. It helped, a little.

Shannon ended up calling me another few times, and left a series of
angry texts. I got one from a new phone from Michael, and I just
blocked him without saying a word. I'd made my position clear, and
neither of them respected it. Not for the first time, I felt a pang of
sympathy for Emmie and her situation.

The laptop arrived the next day, and the day after that, Emmie was
ready to get back to it. I brought the package up to what I was already
thinking of as her room, and knocked. She opened it up, and for the
first time since taking her in, I saw what she'd done to the place.

The walls were still the same tan color they'd always been, but now
faerie lights were strung up around the edges of the ceiling. Stand
lights and a camera were aimed at the ordinary bed, now with black
sheets. A poster of a topless Emmie covering her breasts with one arm
hung above it. A white board hung next to it, with stuff like "Stream
goals" and "Top Patron" written, but no other details.

"Damn, I said, looking around, "you really made the place yours. Looks
good. Looks professional, as far as I know."

She quirked a brow at me. "As far as you know? How many camgirls have
you watched?"

I knew she was trying to tease me, push my buttons. It happened a lot
over the last week. Emmie had always had a sense of humor that liked to
toe the line, but it had gotten way sharper since she grew up. At this
point, I was almost used to it.

"Plenty, back in the day day. Now? None, now that I know you're
working. I'm just glad I know your porn name so I can avoid it." I
grinned and set the laptop box on her bed. "What time are you starting,
do you think?"

"Tomorrow night," she said, sitting down next to the box. "Gotta get
this set up, and then tomorrow I'll be able to stream and film some
content to edit and then sell."

"Excellent. I'll get out of your hair, so you can get it all set up.
See you later, /Dahlia/."

Emmie leaned back on the bed, arching her back and thrusting her chest
forward. She had a lazy, wry smile, and her voice dropped low. "See you
later, /Harry/."

I blinked. Blood chugged in my brain, trying to reboot me and get me to
say anything. Eventually I shivered theatrically. "That's weird. You're
too good at switching like that."

She laughed, but part of her looked disappointed. I turned and left,
kicking myself over staring at her. What was she thinking about me? It
was weird, but more than that it was getting easy to just forget she
was the same girl I'd known and treat her like a new person entirely.
Hearing her call me by my first name gave me psychic damage at first,
but it wasn't entirely unpleasant.

I spent more time on the rowing machine that day.

*Chapter Three*

The weekend came, and with it a much needed day off from work. As easy
as it was for me after all these years, I found myself feeling more
alive than ever. I didn't attribute it to my niece herself so much as
just having another person in the house for the first time since the
divorce. Now I had someone to watch movies and laugh with, and I didn't
think it went any deeper than that.

I spent most of that Saturday sleeping in, then mowed the lawn and
hopped in the hot tub for a little bit. By the time I got out and was
ready for lunch, Emmie had finally woken up and stumbled downstairs in
pajama pants and a halter top.

"Late night?" I asked, munching on a sandwich.

"Errmgl," she responded, falling into the chair opposite me. "All
nights are late nights when you're self-employed and have to hustle.
Also, most people masturbate at night, so that's when I'm the most
active."

"True," I said. The weirdness faded a little, and it wasn't like we
were comparing notes on how we masturbated or anything. "Do you think
you're going to shift your sleep more in that direction? Just as I was
getting used to having company." I tsked at her. Twice, even.

Emmie smiled and rubbed her eyes. "Yeah, probably. But don't worry
Uncle Harry, if I'm not working I'd rather spend time with you."

Her words made me feel warm inside, but I didn't let it show. I just
smiled back and continued eating. After a few minutes of waking up, she
made a sandwich of her own, and we ate in comfortable silence.
Afterwards, we headed to the living room and sprawled out on the couch
together, our legs at either end while we both leaned against a stack
of pillows in the middle.

I put on a nature documentary and let my brain relax and just enjoy
watching videos of cheetahs running across the veldt and apes going to
war with one another.

"Did you know that bonobos are one of our closest relatives, and
they've way more evolved about sex than we are?" Emmie said, startling
me from the pleasant half-doze I'd slipped into.

"Is that right?" I asked, sitting up a little so that our faces weren't
so close together. "How so?"

She pointed at the screen, where it showed a group of them hooting and
howling at each other. "They're our closest cousins, and they're pretty
much all bisexual and use sex as a form of communication and bonding.
In captivity, they've even been known to practice prostitution!"

"Huh," I said, thinking about it. "They've got it right, then. No
parents or aunt telling them they're mentally off for enjoying it. Hey,
I don't want this to be weird or anything, but I'm proud of you."

Emmie made a face and laughed. "How would that be weird?"

"Well," I said, "I'm proud of you for chasing your passion, no matter
what it is, and not letting anyone tell you otherwise. You seem to be
doing it safely, and you're probably not letting people know your real
name. What's the harm?"

"This is why you're my favorite uncle," she said sweetly.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, because Uncle Tony is my only competition, and
he's a prick."

She burst out laughing, and I joined her. We relaxed and resumed
watching. She stuck around for about an hour before she politely
excused herself. I let her borrow the car to go run a few errands,
while I grabbed a book and let myself relax more.

Sometime over the years, I'd become a homebody, and it didn't really
bother me. The loneliness did sometimes, but I'd gotten used to that.
Mostly. Emmie was much better company than Helen had been. Mostly. It
didn't bear thinking about when there was a book to read and quiet to
enjoy. I slipped into that sweet fugue that comes from a good book, and
the hours passed by.

Emmie came back at about seven, laden down with a few bags from
Sephora. I raised an eyebrow. "I prefer to get makeup and lingerie in
person," she said sheepishly. "It's more fun, and I hate having to send
things back."

"Online shopping is a blessing and a curse," I agreed. "You going to
get ready, then?"

She nodded. "I should be starting the stream in one hour, and I'll try
to make sure I don't disturb you."

I waved her off. "You're on the opposite end of the house as me. Even
with how sound carries in this place, the TV will drown you out. Go
have fun, make money, and be safe."

My niece nodded, biting her lip. After a quick debate, she came into
the living room, bent over, and kissed my forehead. "Thanks for being
so cool about this, Uncle Harry. I'm really glad to have you in my life
again."

"Me too, squirt," I said. "One day I'll kick Michael's ass
for...everything, but especially all the hardship he's put on you."

For a second, her face twitched, flashing into something like rage and
pain. Then it was gone, replaced by the same smile I'd grown accustomed
to. She headed upstairs, and I turned the TV back on. I went through my
streaming apps and decided on my favorite dramedy about a drunk horse,
while I let my mind wander to wherever it went.

At first, it was mostly harmless. I thought about my siblings and my
parents, and the way things used to be. As the middle child, I felt
like I was both the glue in my family, and an outsider, never quite
fitting in. As the oldest, Michael thought himself the brave leader,
but that had never really been true. The deaths of his wife and our
parents made him crack, and only he didn't realize that he wasn't as
strong as he hoped.

Shannon, on the other hand, had gotten smaller and more nosy for it.
She'd taken Michael's betrayal better than I had, and used her life of
relative comfort to focus on the important things. Her kids and
husband, taking care of the house, and losing her mind to daytime TV,
and gossip.

It felt like I was the only one who kept my head on my shoulders, but I
knew that wasn't entirely true. I cracked in my own way, getting colder
and relying on my solitude more and more. I had friends, I talked to
people all the time, but it was at arms' length. The more I thought
about it, the more I appreciated Emmie staying with me for a bit. It
reminded me that I wasn't an island, no matter how much I wished I
could be.

"Uncle Harry?" Emmie called from upstairs. I looked up, but she wasn't
at the railing looking down.

"Yeah?" I called back. "What's up?"

"I don't want to make things weird, but can you tell me if I look
alright?"

I paused. "You're clothed, right?"

Her laughter echoed off the cathedral ceiling. "Yeah, I'm clothed. The
more clothes I wear, the more people have to pay for me to take them
all off."

That was enough to make me hesitate, but if she was clothed, then I
didn't see a reason why not. "Sure, come down and I'll do my best."

The stairs creaked, and my niece came into view a second later. Even
just seeing her face was a reminder that she'd grown up to be a
beautiful woman. Her pixie-like face now had dark red lipstick that
made her mouth look soft and welcoming, especially with her permanent,
teasing smirk. Her hair wasn't fully spiked so much as adorably messy.
I opened my mouth to tell her she looked good, but then she rounded the
landing and I saw her outfit.

My niece was short, but not small. Her red, too-small top strained to
contain her breasts, not huge but big for her frame. Once more I saw
the indentations of her nipple piercings, and something inside of me
stirred. She made it worse by walking down the stairs, breasts bouncing
with each step. I ripped my eyes away and looked down to see short
shorts barely covering anything, and her long, smooth legs were pale
and bare.

There was nothing about it that was strictly lewd, except for maybe her
piercings. But that could've just been me, unable to stop thinking
about them. My stomach fluttered, twisting in knots as I realized that
yes, Emmie was not only hot, but confident enough to lean into it and
use it to her advantage.

She stopped in the entryway and gave a little twirl, showing off a
small, tight ass, highlighted by the tight shorts. It took me entirely
too long to realize I was staring. Her confident smile faltered, and I
jolted awake.

"You look good," I said quietly. "I hope you get a million viewers and
they all empty their bank accounts for you."

She laughed, and once again it made her breasts jiggle. Fuck, why
couldn't I stop looking? It was the only part of her that really moved
at all, and my eyes were -- no, I forced myself to meet her eyes and
gave her a thumbs up.

"Okay, I won't make it any weirder for you. I should stop around
midnight or one AM, so maybe I'll see you then."

"I 'll see you then," I echoed.

Emmie smiled and ran up the stairs. I looked away, rather than watch
her go. I already felt weird enough about noticing her that way, but
that had been the point, right? Maybe me being cool with things made
her believe that I would be completely unaffected. I'd hoped that would
be the case, but my blood pumped and my cock stirred a little.

It was just loneliness, I told myself. A few years of not dating and
not really having much outlet other than night time masturbation does
things to a man. Emmie was young, gorgeous, and confident. If I wasn't
her uncle, I probably would've been slavering and ready to beat my meat
like it owed me money. The motion of her breasts...

I turned the show off and took a deep breath. It was just loneliness,
and if I got some things out of my system, it would go better. Or maybe
a walk would help clear my mind and stop me from being disgusting.
Yeah, that would do.

A walk, in fact, did help. There was a gas station just a mile and a
half away, and I went there, enjoying the cool autumn evening and the
slight chill in the air. It was like the miniature version of a cold
shower, and by the time I got to the gas station and grabbed a bag of
beef jerky, I was calm again.

And laughing at myself. If anything was a sign that I needed to let
loose a little and date again, this was it. I paid and wandered home,
wondering if it would be worth it to reinstall Tinder and see just how
bleak the late thirties dating scene was around here. God, I hadn't
dated or approached someone new since I was Emmie's age.

When I arrived home, muffled music came from upstairs, loud enough to
drown out any possible activity, but not so loud as to piss off my
neighbors. Not that I cared about them, but the fewer people who knew
Emmie was here, the better. It was closer to ten now, and I wracked my
brain for what to do next.

Well, I'd gotten a snack, and the TV was there, so maybe it was time to
put on a movie and sink all of my attention into it. I selected an old
favorite action movie starring the Rock before he got too famous to
give a shit about acting, and settled in.

Right when the action took a turn on the screen, my phone buzzed. I
swore that if it was Shannon again, I'd block her for a week or two,
just to keep my sanity. Instead, it was Bill from work, with a problem
only I could solve. One of our whales wanted an impossible trip, and it
was up to me to make it work. I texted back saying that I'd handle it,
and headed back to the office.

The pulsing beat of some electronic track thumped through the ceiling.
Her bedroom was right above, and I'd forgotten about that fact
entirely. Her laughter trickled down, more musical than the shit she
had on in the background. My stomach dropped at the sound. I'd have to
be quick.

My laptop, of course, decided not to cooperate, and I had to hard shut
it off and then turn it back on, and wait for it to boot up with all my
standard programs. It wasn't like I was panicking about being in there
while she performed, but I could hear a lot clearer than I'd guessed.
Enough that I heard a gasp, and my blood turned to ice.

I looked up at the ceiling, mouth getting drier by the second. The
echoing sound of coins jingling played. Again, another gasp, and then a
squeal. And another and another, rhythmic and sharp. I hadn't watched
camgirls in years, but I knew what that sound meant. Each tip likely
made a specialized vibrator buzz, based on the amount paid.

My mouth went dry, and I couldn't help but stare at the ceiling like
I'd be able to penetrate it and see her, legs spread, little pink vibe
buzzing away in short pulses. It was so easy to picture her on her
knees, legs spread and showing everything and --

"Fuck."

I rubbed my smooth scalp with both hands, eventually covering and
tugging on my ears. It provided another layer to block the sound, but
it wasn't doing shit to block my imagination. It failed even worse when
the coins jingled once more, and then her squeals turned into a long,
low moan that carried through it all.

"/Fuck,/" I groaned. My laptop finally came to life, and my messenger
programs popped up, including the request from Bill. Right, I was in
here for a reason, and perving on my barely legal niece wasn't it.

The solution was simple: blaring music through my headphones. Loud
enough to both block out Emmie's moans and also maybe cause some mild
hearing damage. I could barely think through it, but it was a marked
improvement. I went into our files and pulled up the travel itinerary
of Beverly Walton, and looked for the problem.

She had double booked a massage and her train ride out of Spain, and
was in danger of losing a full day to the problem. It took me maybe ten
minutes to find her a massage on the other end, for cheaper, as well as
buying her a bit of breathing room before she departed. Satisfied, I
sent a message off to Bill and sat back in my chair.

And then something pierced through both the ceiling and the discography
of Metallica. A thumping sound, just as rhythmic as the squeals before
it, but deeper and impossible to ignore. I took my headphones off and
the sound battered through her floor down to me. Thump, thump, thump
went her bed, with a long, high moan with it.

Gimme Shelter

by SalaciousSatyr (UID 3742515)

https://www.literotica.com/s/gimme-shelter

After years apart, Harry takes in his runaway niece

Page 3 of 3 page(s) (4986 characters)

I could picture it vividly, and hated myself for it. Emmie on her knees
like I'd imagined before, but she was naked and sat on a dildo,
furiously lowering herself on it and making the uneven bed shift,
creak, and jerk with each downward thrust. In my mind, her breasts
heaved, and maybe she even grabbed and squeezed one while moaning and
riding her toy, tweaking her piercing.

"Yes!" Emmie called out from above, clearly audible.

My body and mind betrayed me. Within seconds I was hard, painfully
hard, as I hadn't been since I was a teenager. I leaned back in my
chair and rearranged myself in my pants. My cock jutted forward,
constrained by my clothes, but it wanted to come out and play. It was
all I could do to not cup and rub myself. If I did that, then I'd be
lost.

It didn't matter that I knew it was a performance for her viewers, the
sounds and mental image grabbed hold of me and wouldn't let go. She
cried out again, and it made my cock twitch. What did she look like
right now? If I typed in Dahlia Damnation, would her stream come up?

The thought terrified me, of how easy it would be to get a peak. Hell,
I didn't even need to find her stream, there were no doubt countless
pictures and preview clips that would show me something, just enough to
sate my curiosity. My hands rested on the keyboard like I was in a
dream, moving on their own.

The letters appeared in the search bar, one after another. The thumping
above me grew louder and faster before one last, orgasmic groan pierced
my brain and embedded itself into my psyche. My hips jerked forward,
and I let out a muffled whimper. The fog deepened, and all I could
think about was how hard I was, and my need to do something about it.

My fingers hovered above enter, ready to cross the path of no return
and look up Emmie in all of her pride and glory. I probably would have,
if the music didn't suddenly turn off. It took me a few seconds to
register, and by then I heard Emmie walking down the stairs.

It didn't take more than a second to close out of the search engine and
bring back up my work website, but it felt like an eternity. I slid my
chair further under my desk, knowing somehow she was coming for me, and
that she couldn't know I was hard because of her.

Sure enough, she poked her head into my office a minute or two later.
Her make-up was...smudged, and her face flushed. She wore more
conservative, concealing clothes now, but it didn't stop me from
looking at her tits and wishing I could see them.

"Hey Uncle Harry, what're you doing in here?" Emmie asked.

I forced a smile and said, "A friend needed help at work, so I popped
in here to get it done real quick."

"Well, I'm stopping a bit early tonight, and I wondered if you wanted
to go out and get nighttime burritos. I'm famished!"

I nearly snarked that I bet she was, but fear paralyzed me. "I'm trying
to snack less this time of night, you know? Gotta worry about my health
in my old age."

She laughed. "Yeah, sure. It's not like you exercise religiously or
anything. You're in better shape than most guys my age."

I laughed along with her, but it was hollow. She must've noticed
something, because she changed her tone. "Hey, was my stream too loud?
You didn't hear anything, did you?"

My heart skipped a beat. "No, just your music," I said. "Maybe take it
down a notch or two next time, just to avoid pissing off the
neighbors."

Oh god, what was I doing? The lie tumbled out my lips like it was
nothing, like I'd prepared it. Panic hit me like a truck, but she
didn't seem suspicious at all.

"Yeah, no problem. Next time I'll make sure the music isn't too loud.
And once again, I really appreciate you being so cool about this.
You're the only one in the family who doesn't mind what I do."

Guilt stabbed at me with twin knives, cackling at my discomfort.

"There's nothing wrong with it," I heard myself say, heart hammering in
my chest. "You're providing a valuable service to lonely people, right?
I'm completely okay with it, so long as no patrons show up on my
doorstep."

"Hah, of course!" Emmie beamed at me, and my cock twitched again. I'd
softened a little, but that smile brought me back to life, and I hated
it. "Mind if I borrow your car to get a burrito for me?"

"Not at all," I said. "You deserve a treat after your first night
back."

"Thank you! I love you, Uncle Harry."

It was so innocent, so harmless, but it made me feel like dogshit. "I
love you too, Emily."

Her eyes widened at the use of her birth name, something that no one
ever called her unless they were angry or things were serious. She
didn't say anything, just smiled and withdrew from the doorway.

Once I heard the front door open and close, I breathed a sigh of
relief. I was no longer in danger of looking her up, but the temptation
lingered, whispering sweet lies into my ear. I shoved it aside and
tried to go back to watching TV.

It didn't help. Eventually I went to bed early, where I fell asleep,
still uncomfortably hard.

Story Tags: incest; niece; uncle; camgirl; porn; slow%20burn;
exhibitionism

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