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Joyce Schultz had just graduated from high school with honors, and while her parents were very proud of her accomplishments, she were both in agreement on one thing. Joyce was not going to spend the summer in the house reading.
“You’re going to get a job,” her mother insisted when the subject came up. “I don’t care what it is – volunteer somewhere if you want to – but you have to get out of the house and interact with people.”
Joyce nodded and shrugged her slumped shoulders, like she often did when faced with a something she didn’t want to deal with, but unlike the other times, her parents were not going to let her squirm out of this.
“She has to get some kind of life,” Betty Schultz told her husband that night in bed.
“I guess,” Jack Schultz said, and although he knew his wife was right, there was something to be said about being the parent of a girl you didn’t ever have to worry about.
“Who knows, maybe she’ll even meet a boy,” Betty suggested.
“Or a girl,” Jack added.
“She’s not gay, Jack,” Betty said, once again rejecting her husband’s semi-serious theory for why no boys ever came calling.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Jack said. “I just want her to be happy.”
“Why don’t you see if Don needs help at his place?” Betty suggested, and to get his wife off of his back so he could go to sleep, he agreed.
“I don’t know anything about ice cream,” Joyce said to her parents the next day.
“What did I tell you?” Betty said to her husband with a grin. “I told you she would say that.”
“There’s nothing to know,” Jack Schultz said. “You stick it in a cone, hand it to somebody and take their money. For crying out loud, you had a 99 average last year. You’re telling me you can’t figure it out?”
“I don’t even eat ice cream,” Joyce whined.
“Your Uncle Don will appreciate that,” Betty said. “Not that you couldn’t stand to gain a few pounds.”
“And stand up straight honey,” Jack said. “Please?”
“Nothing wrong with being tall,” her mother added. “Slumping like that doesn’t make you look any shorter.”
Joyce nodded and straightened up, having fallen into that habit of stooping over once she reached 6′ tall, and when she finally ran out of excuses, agreed to go with her Dad to talk to her Uncle about working there.
“Wow!” Don Schultz said when his brother brought Joyce to “The Snackatorium”, his summer enterprise that kept him busy until the snow started flying and his plowing business kicked in. “Look at you, Joyce. You’re a tall drink of water.”
Joyce nodded and blushed as her uncle kissed her on the cheek.
“So what do you think?” Don’s brother asked. “Do you think you can give Joyce a job?”
“Absolutely!” Don said as he looked over his niece, and tried to curb his habit of mentally undressing the girls who interviewed for jobs with him, at least until his brother was gone. “Especially nights and weekends. All these kids want to book early at night. You okay with that, Joyce?”
“I guess,” Joyce said with a shrug, and was left to look around the storeroom as her father went to talk with her uncle.
“That will work out well,” Jack said of his daughter. “She doesn’t have much of a social life. Correction. No social life, so nights and weekends work out well for everybody then.”
“No boyfriend huh?” Don said. “Well, the way these clowns hang around drooling over the girls that work here, that might change.”
“I doubt it,” Jack said. “But if you can get her out of that shell of hers, that would be great. She’s an incredibly intelligent girl, but socially…”
“Leave that to me,” Don said boisterously, slapping his brother on the shoulder. “By the end of the summer you won’t recognize her.”
“Here’s your uniform,” Don Schultz told her new employee as he handed Joyce a couple of t-shirts with the logo of The Snackatorium on the front. “Very few rules here. Don’t chew gum while you wait on people.”
“I don’t chew gum.”
“Good. Do you smoke? No? Great. Show up on time, do your best and you’ll be fine,” Don assured the nervous teen. “Be here tomorrow at 4 and I’ll break you in myself. It’ll be great to have somebody besides me that can reached the stuff on the top shelves. You’re almost as tall as I am. What are you Joyce, 6’2″?”
“About six foot,” Joyce lied, knowing that she was a bit taller than that now and her uncle’s guess was probably correct.
“Well, stand up straight,” Don said, patting Joyce on the back and squeezing her bony shoulder while whispering to her that he only said that because her old man told him to. “Oh, and one more thing. I ask all the girls to wear bras. Family place and all.”
Don Schultz eyes went down to the lanky girl’s chest, and even though she was wearing a baggy blouse he suspected that his niece didn’t have much up on top. While that might turn off a lot of men, Don was certainly not one of them. Just the opposite.
“Okay,” Joyce said, blushing.
“And so we’ll see bursa escort you tomorrow. Welcome aboard!.”
Joyce awkwardly shook her uncle’s hand before walking out of the store with her father.
“Congratulations!” Joyce’s father said, winking at his brother. “You’re now a professional.”
Don laughed and watched his brother walk out of the store with his new employee, and as they turned the corner Don rearranged his pants to accommodate the erection he was sporting as a result of seeing little Joyce again.
“Little Joyce?” he said to himself. “Not so little. Behave yourself Don. That’s your brother’s kid.”
“Here,” Don said as he handed his niece her name tag, although he was sorely tempted to put it on himself. “You better do it.”
Don watched Joyce awkwardly attach the tag above the tiny swell of her left breast, and as he looked over his brother’s daughter he knew from the start that it was going to be a long hot summer, at least for him.
It wasn’t that Joyce was a stunning beauty or anything, far from it. If you were one of those fans of classical beauty, Joyce was not going to be your cup of tea. It was as if the girl had gotten the lesser features of her parents; her father’s big nose and her mother’s height, but didn’t get her father’s outgoing personality or her mother’s boobs.
Hardly any boobs at all, Don noted, and who knows how much of what was under the t-shirt and bra was flesh, Don mused. Joyce reminded Don of his first love, back 40 years ago. Gail Hopper was her name, and she was almost as androgynous as Joyce was. She was no looker either, but she had been an animal in the sack, and ever though she had been Don’s first, she was still the best no matter what she looked like to others.
As Don showed Joyce around the shop, introducing her to the rest of the staff and showing her the various machines, his mind was elsewhere. Was she a virgin? It didn’t seem possible that an 18 year old girl could be these days, but his brother said that she wasn’t very social.
Nervous beyond belief too, Don noted, and as the day went on it was easy to see that Joyce wasn’t going to excel at customer service. She panicked constantly, dropping things and getting flustered, so when it was time for her break he had Joyce join him in his little office.
“You want me to quit?” Joyce said.
“Quit?” Don said. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”
“I’m no good at this,” Joyce said.
“Hey, nothing is easy at first,” Don said, putting his hand on Joyce’s pale forearm, the skinny limb so white it looked like it never saw the sun, and softly stroked the fine down that graced it. “You just need to relax.”
Joyce flinched at first, but Don’s hand continued to stroke her furry forearm with his beefy hand, making the down dance between his fingers, and he kept assuring her that she would be okay.
“Hey, you’re way ahead of most of the girls. You can make change without the help of the register,” Don chuckled. “You should see this place when the power goes out. They’re hopeless without the machine telling them what to do.”
Don told Joyce that she could help him work the back area, and only come out to wait on people when it got really crowded. Hearing that, it seemed like the weight of the world came off her shoulders.
“There,” Don said. “That’s more like the Joyce I remember. You’re so much prettier when you smile.”
Don chuckled as Joyce left, blushing at the compliment. He didn’t think that she got told she was pretty very often, because she really wasn’t, at least not in the classic sense. Her features were plain, and she did little cosmetically to improve them. Her hair was a mousy brown and was cut in a very ordinary way.
Still, Don thought, there was something about her than gave him a hard-on whenever she was near. That was going to be a challenge now, because they would be working together a lot now.
“Working late these days?” Joyce’s mother asked when her daughter slipped into the kitchen just past midnight.
“Yeah. Uncle Don has me cashing out all the registers after we close,” Joyce said.
“You don’t seem to mind your job so much now.”
“No, it’s not bad,” Joyce admitted. “Uncle Don is really nice.”
“Meet any boys?” her mother asked.
“No,” Joyce said as she headed upstairs to her room.
Locking her bedroom door, Joyce undressed and put on her nightie before going over to her desk and pulling out her diary. For some reason, Joyce had started to make entries in it once again when she started working last week.
If I had a friend – a real friend that I could talk to – I wouldn’t have to write this stuff out, Joyce thought as she went to the next blank page, but writing helped.
That’s a dumb thing to write every day, but I do it anyway.
It wasn’t very busy tonight, so I got to help Uncle Don do inventory. He’s so nice. I know it’s weird, but I really wish he wasn’t my uncle. He always says nice things to me.
Tonight bursa escort bayan he asked me if I ever thought about becoming a model. That was freaky on more than one level. If anybody else said that, I would have thought they were being funny, but he seemed to mean it, and said I had the body for it. If he ever saw me without my clothes he would never say that, but it made me tingle to hear it.
If he wasn’t my uncle, heck, I don’t care that he’s three times my age. He’s good looking. His bald head is sexy to me, and he’s really strong. Also he’s taller than me, which is nice.
He’s a touchy guy, always touching my arms or patting my back and shoulders. It feels nice when he does that, especially when his hand rubs my forearms, even though I’m so self-conscious about the hair on them. Sometimes I think that he’s looking at me, almost like he’s checking me out. You know what I mean? Maybe it’s my imagination. Probably is. I mean, why would a guy look at me? Goofy desperate kids my age don’t even bother.
He told me about how Aunt Kay divorced him, and how lonely he was. I guess that conversation started when he asked me whether any guys have come on to me at work. As if! He told me that I should smile more, and stand up straight. Rats. I thought I was getting better at that.
When we were working in the back, stacking the boxes of ice cream cones on the shelves, I could have sworn he was looking down the sleeve of my shirt when I raised my arms. Glad I shaved my pits this morning. Must remember to do it every day, even if they don’t need it.
Boy, if Uncle Don ever saw this stuff I’m writing, he would think I was crazy. This stuff is probably all in my head. Still, it’s nice to think about. Maybe older guys like the way I look. I do better with them, or so it seems. Guys my age sure aren’t interested.
Oh well. I’m tired. Time to go to bed. Maybe I’ll go right to sleep, but probably not. I’ll probably do what I’ve been doing the last couple of nights. Think about Uncle Don, and dreaming about those big strong hairy arms of his wrapped around me.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Don Schultz said as she stood behind his niece and looked over her shoulder while she finished counting the cash drawer and wrote the totals down in the ledger. “I used to be here for hours doing that.”
Joyce shivered when she felt Uncle Don’s hand on her shoulder, and when she felt his minty breath on her neck her body trembled.
“Cold?” Uncle Don asked when he noticed her goose bumps on Joyce’s bare arms, and after he ran his hands up and down and got the fine hairs standing up straight on her pebbled skin, he announced that he had a idea to warm her up.
“I’ve had this bottle around for a while,” Don explained when he came back with a bottle of Sambuca. “I used to splash a little on ice cream every once in a while. I know it’s cool back here so this will warm you up.
“Don’t tell your folks I gave you this,” Uncle Don said, and after Joyce nodded she took a swallow out of the little paper cup.
“Ooh!” Joyce giggled as the licorice tasting liquid burned her throat.
“Like that?” Don said, smiling as she reacted to what might have been her first taste of alcohol, and when she didn’t stop him he poured some more in the cup.
“Since you’re done counting the cash you can have another drink,” Uncle Don said as he looked at his niece’s long skinny fingers trembling as she held the cup. “Oh. That boy you were talking to near closing time? The one with the earring? He seemed interested in you.”
“Todd? He’s in the Honor Society with me.”
“He was looking at you as if he thought…
“He’s gay,” Joyce said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Oh. Sorry,” Don said. “Serves me right for being nosy.”
“It’s okay,” Joyce said.
“Guess I was just getting jealous about somebody making a move on my girl,” Don said, squeezing Joyce’s shoulders through the t-shirt and feeling her bra straps beneath it. “You are my girl, you know. You’re my best employee. You’re sort of the assistant manager these days.”
“The other girls don’t like me,” Joyce said as she sipped the drink again. “I think it’s because you treat me like I’m your favorite.”
“They’re jealous. Too bad. You are my favorite, even if we weren’t related.”
“Not used to that – me making other people jealous.”
Don, still standing behind his niece, found himself leaning against her and brushing his lips on the bare skin of her neck above the collar of her t-shirt, and as he did his hands went onto Joyce’s hips.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Don said. “But I’ve wanted to since you started working here. You’re so cute.”
Don stared at the back of Joyce’s head, which had straightened up when he kissed her, and now she stood at the counter staring straight ahead with her hands on the surface as he leaned gently against her.
“Silly old man,” Don said while waiting for his niece to run. “Feeling jealous when he sees boys checking you out.”
His escort bursa cock was hard, and he knew that Joyce could feel it as he leaned against her, all the time thinking that this could stop right now, with no harm done. The problem was that he couldn’t stop. It was as if he had no control over what his hands were doing as they left Joyce’s bony hips and started sliding upward along the front of her shirt.
“Please don’t,” he heard Joyce say in a voice hardly audible, and as his hands came up to the logo of The Snackatorium Joyce took her hands of the counter and brought them up to stop him.
“It’s okay… okay honey,” Don was whispering into his niece’s ear. “Please let me.”
Don could have overpowered his skinny niece’s efforts to stop his hands from going up to her breasts, but he didn’t, and as Joyce brought his hands down he suddenly realized that she was pushing them down to her crotch.
“Oh!” Joyce whimpered as she pushed her uncle’s hands down to her delta and leaned into the counter, clamping her hand down there as she leaned forward.
“Joyce honey…” Don moaned. “You don’t know how bad I want you.”
In front of him, Joyce was writhing around, her head rolling back backwards as his hand massaged her pussy through the slacks and panties, but Don wanted to explore elsewhere so he slid his hands up quickly when Joyce released her grip on his wrists briefly.
Don knew what his hands were going to find once they reached the modest swells of Joyce’s chest. Over the last week he had “accidentally” bumped up against Joyce in every way he could think of, so when his hands came up to Joyce’s breasts he was not surprised at what he found.
“It’s okay,” Don kept whispering, reassuring his niece that he was not disappointed when what barely filled his hands was mostly the padded quilt-like cups of her brassiere, but although he was a bit surprised at how little was actually hidden underneath the wrapper, that only served to inflame his desires.
Joyce was now leaning back against her uncle, her hands now raised but frozen as if she was conducting an orchestra, and she did not stop her uncle when his hands dipped down to move up under her t-shirt.
Don could count Joyce’s ribs as his hands slid up Joyce’s smooth skin, and went they reached the bottom of her bra his fingers inched the harness upward easily, baring Joyce’s breasts for his over-sized hands to caress.
“Omigod honey,” Don muttered as he kneaded the little buds, which felt like only small swells on her chest, and Joyce was practically swooning as she stood between her uncle and the counter while Don caressed her breasts. “So sweet. I want to see you.”
As Don massaged Joyce’s undeveloped bosom, he felt her nipples start to blossom, and as they inflated they grew to the size of small bullets, long and thick pegs that seemed to throb as his fingers stroked them.
“They’re sensitive, aren’t they honey?” Don was whispering while nuzzling into Joyce’s neck and plucking at her amazing nipples, and Joyce mumbled something in return.
Don was just about to pull Joyce’s shirt up over her head when a loud thud came from out in the front of the building.
“Damn!” Don said as he yanked his hands out from underneath his niece’s blouse and hustled out the door the the front area of the snack bar, leaving a disheveled Joyce Schultz struggling to catch her breath.
Don got out front just in time to see the taillights of a van leave the parking lot, and when he saw what caused the noise was not an attempted burglary but only the bundle of the free local entertainment guide that they gave away to customers, he cursed again.
“Metroland,” he mumbled when he rejoined his niece in the back room, holding the bundle of the free newspapers in his hand while looking at the barely recognizable sight of his niece leaning against the counter with her raised bra making the front of her shirt a lumpy mess.
Joyce’s eyes weren’t on the papers but on the bulge in her uncle’s pants which was only now beginning to shrink, and when it was clear that the mood was broken beyond repair, Joyce turned around and reached under her blouse to re-position her bra.
“Better get you home,” Don mumbled, and Joyce nodded.
They secured the shop and got in Don’s van for the short ride home. Don kept looking over at his niece, who kept staring straight ahead. He was hoping she would say something, but when she didn’t, Don pulled the car over onto the shoulder of the quiet road.
“Joyce honey,” Don said softly, searching for words. “I can’t really explain it… what happened back at the shop…”
“Please don’t,” Joyce said in a pleading whisper. “Please don’t tell me you’re sorry.”
“I won’t,” Don said, and she was right because he really wasn’t, and the only thing he was really sorry about was the noise that had broken the spell. “I’m not. I know it was as wrong as wrong can be, but I’m only sorry that it stopped.”
“Me too.” Joyce mumbled.
“I want to kiss you,” her Uncle Don was saying, and seconds after their lips met they were clawing at each other, their tall bodies twisting and contorting as their tongues dueled, and as Don grabbed Joyce’s breasts again he felt her hands at his crotch.
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