TVR/Janet3/Garden

The next day is sunny, so you go out into the garden to read. You pull your skirt up as high as you dare. You notice something moving in the grass. It's a bright blue beetle and you lay with your chin in your hands watching it climbing up a grass stalk.

"What are you looking at Miss Janet?" It's Mr Johnson and he makes you jump.

You roll over and look up at him. "Just some ants. Are you going to mow the grass?"

"No Miss, I am going to prune some of the bushes at the end," he says and goes down to the far end of the garden, out of sight of the house. You can't help a grin at the bulge in his trousers and you guess it was because he was looking at you.

An while later, you sit down on the bench in the shade behind the shed, light a cigarette and pour yourself some tea out of your flask and then add a little whisky.

“Did you like doing it with Susan?”

It's Janet's voice and you guess she must be talking to her brother. So he's been fucking that little slut, Susan has he, you think. Obviously the two kids have forgotten you're there.

“Yes… But I like it with you more,” Andrew says.

Janet giggles. “You had to say that, didn’t you. What about what Jim did… When he put his cock in your bottom?”

“Yeah, well, the less said about that the better. I suppose that’s what queers do.” Andrew says.

Behind the shed, you smile. “So Jim’s still up to his old tricks is he.” Now you've got these snotty-nosed kids right where you want them. The question is, how far you dare go. When you walk round the shed, you see them sitting on the grass. Janet has still got her knees up and her brother has taken his shirt off.

“Hello, kids. So you've been to visit my cousin Jim have you? And, from what I just heard, you both enjoyed the experience."

They both sit there, looking at you with their mouths open. “Are you going to tell Dad?" Andrew asks, eventually.

“Well… That depends…" You pause as the children look at you expectantly. You need to be careful. If you scare them too much, they will run away, but from the sound of it there up for pretty much anything.

“It depends on whether you can do something for me." You say the words slowly so there can be no misunderstanding.

Janet finds her voice. “What do you mean?"

Instead of replying, you unbuckle your belt and drop your trousers, exposing your semi-hard cock. The children gasp with shock as you start stroking it.

“Come on then Missy. Let’s see if you can get it to stand up properly.” You stand in front of Janet and, when she just sits there looking , you take her hand and wrap her fingers around the shaft. Now it's pointing directly at her face and she stares, wide-eyed, as it swells to its full size.

Although your cock is not up to porn star standards, you have nothing to be embarrassed about and, clearly, Janet is quite impressed. You look across at her brother and he still standing there with his mouth open as he watches his kid sister.

“There’s a good girl," you say. "Now let’s see how much you can get in your mouth.” As if in a trance Janet opens her mouth as wide as she can and allows you to push the purple dome inside.

During the countless times you stood hidden in the bushes watching the children playing in the garden; masturbating and reveling in the occasional glimpse of white knickers stretched over an immature pussy, as the little girl sprawled on the grass unconscious of your gaze, and the sight of a not-so-little boycock whenever Andrew went round behind the shed for a piss, you have never really expected to go further and get away with it.

"If I get away with this, who knows what I can do in the future," you think as your balls begin to clench. You really want to see the little slut swallow your spunk, but resist the idea, pull your cock out of her mouth and shoot your cum on the grass. The children both stand, watching the jets of jizz shooting out of your pulsing cock. Janet has tears running down her face, and Andrew has a scowl on his face.

"If you tell anyone what happened here, I will make sure your father knows what you get up to with good old "Uncle" Jim, you say.