I was always a pushover when it came to my niece.

From the time I first saw her (she was nine), I was fixated on her bubbly innocence, yet provocative demeanor.

I always remained seated as much as possible when I visited. It helped me hide my betraying penis which invariably grew turgid from eyeing little Wendy.

To make matters worse, Wendy was ebullient and outgoing, drawing many friends, at that tender young age, her friends were all nymphets, as well!

When her parents prevailed upon me to baby-sit, I flushed with fright! I couldn't deny my sister, but why would her husband even begin to trust me with his only daughter? Unless...

No! That's not fair. Just because I harbor these urges is no reason to ascribe them to anyone else!

I fought these urges. Ofcourse, I had fantasies where I did succumb, but even Joyce Brothers agrees that fantasies not acted upon, are just fantasies, and as such, are NOT abnormal, per se.

It's something about the unwrinkled, non-flabby skin, the smooth complexion, the very virginity that harkens me back to the explosive end to my own, years back - when I never wanted the moment to end.

That's not to say Wendy was still a virgin (I'm sure she WAS), but my fantasy made her so, and ofcourse, also all her little girlfriends that came over to play, and later on, to swim in her pool.

When I finally screwed up the courage to join them in the pool, Wendy was already almost twelve, as were most of her friends, save for the occasional younger sister or brother.

My sister and her husband were constantly having these weekend cookouts, so there ought not to have been any opportunities to act irrationally.

But where there is a will, there is a way.

With no diving board, kids tend to get inventive, to entertain themselves. It didn't take long for Wendy to discover that she could walk up my body (with my help) and turn around, standing on my shoulders as a diving platform.

My sister's rule was that diving wasn't allowed (a wise safety protocol) but the kids enjoyed jumping, some even doing cannonballs. After seeing the confidence exuded by Wendy in my ability to remain a stable platform, the other kids begged to be allowed the same.

This afforded me a new opportunity: In order to keep these little exercises safe, I needed to keep my eye on each child as they climbed me, including looking straight up (between their legs) as they straddled my head!

I can't tell you how often I got a 'shot' of their hairless pussies as their ill-fitting bikini bottoms tugged from the cascading water when they climbed me!

I was thankful that my waist remained under water, along with my telltale bulge.

But I managed to "not touch", relegating myself to masturbation, as a means of relief.

Perhaps it was a false sense of security that gave me new confidence. Perhaps it was that same false sense that my sister developed (hey - he hasn't done anything in six years), which led to the next battle of the id.

Wendy was going to have a sweet sixteen party at the pool and it rained something fierce. They HAD to postpone. Only problem was, Wendy's parents had a wedding reception to attend the following week and it was the last weekend of the summer (Labor Day).

Wendy understood and begged to be allowed to have her party with no grownups that same weekend.

You guessed it...only if Uncle Eric was available, and that was also only if he (I) agreed. (I could never refuse Wendy.)

It was a beautiful day. There were plenty of boys sniffing around, so to speak, (that's why she wasn't allowed to be 'sans adult') and they all had a great day, playing around in the pool.

Unfortunately for me, I got to see a lot, and I mean a lot, of feeling up among stolen kisses and long, leering looks. The boys were 'me', but they were still sixteenish. Their excited bodies were normal.

Also, there were seven girls and five boys, plenty of T&A for everyone.

Finally, toward dusk, I decided that I better go inside the house and masturbate. At least, outside, with neighbors able to see, the girls were safer.

After tending to myself, I felt just a bit bleary eyed (from the chlorinated pool water) and I laid down on my sister's bed for just a moment (my bathing suit was well dry by then).

Well, perhaps from my orgasm, I felt a little more tired, and I drifted off.

I was awakened by Wendy's friend, Charlene, who came in crying that she'd just been manually deflowered by Wendy's boyfriend.

What did she want me to do? Call the cops?

A asked her for the details and discovered that he used to be Charlene's boyfriend!

Since she claimed to be a virgin, maybe that was why this bastard dumped her, which meant Wendy's virginity was suspect, or in danger!

I tried to console her, explaining the benefits (from a guy's point of view).

I told her it would never hurt as much, again, and soon, not at all, making her first time more enjoyable.

That was the wrong thing to say because she was with Wendy all those years that I 'played' and stared and forced myself not to act, and she had a 'thing' for me.

She begged through her tears, "Oh Eric please, make it stop hurting!" And with that, she tugged her bottoms down to her knees and pressed her vulva near my face!