Summer Holiday/Spain Day 1/Airport./Molly 2/Plane/Pool
The trouble with last-minute bookings is that you can never be sure where you are going to end up. This time you've hit the jackpot. The place is obviously aimed at families, as there are swarms of excited children of all ages, from toddlers who can barely walk, up to teenagers, milling around. The notice boards are plastered with adverts for kids clubs and local amenities aimed at children.
You wander around for a while getting your bearings, and enjoying the sights. It's noticeable that you are the odd one out, because nearly all the guests are either young children or parents. Your room is high up with a good view of the Mediterranean, and you assume that someone else's misfortune was your good luck. You unpack, have a shower, change into baggy shorts and a T-shirt, slip your feet into some sandals and set off to explore.
The hotel is an all-inclusive deal, which means that most food and drink is included in the price, although there is a more upmarket restaurant. There are already some determined drinkers at the bar, but you find a vacant lounger by the poolside bar and settle back with a long, cold beer to watch the kids in the pool. Most of the adults were doing the same as me, exhausted by all the hassle of flying cattle class. But the kids, after hours of being cooped up, are full of energy and there is a good deal of uninhibited horseplay.
You are pleasantly surprised to see that, unlike back home where parents feel it necessary to cover up even the tiny nipples on a toddler, most girls are not bothering with the top part of their bikinis. With the younger ones, it makes it hard to tell boys from girls, but even girls as old as ten or eleven are topless. Happily showing off their budding breasts to any pervert who cared to look.
"Uncle Francis," squeals a voice and Molly comes racing over and throws herself on your lap. Bob and Harry aren't far behind, and he leaves the children with you and goes to get us all drinks.
"I needed that," Bob says, flopping down onto an adjacent lounger and taking a long pull of his beer. "Are you sure Molly's not being a nuisance?" He smiles at you. "I see you got promoted to Honorary Uncle."
You shrug. "She's fine." Considering that she's changed out of her dress into an even shorter skirt and a top that was little more than a band round her chest, and that you are holding her on your lap with a hand spread out over her soft bare belly, you were hardly going to complain. She slurps some of her drink - a pink confection with fruit and an umbrella. "Where's Mary," you ask.
"Mummy is unpacking," Molly says. "She likes to be left to get on with it."
After a while, during which your cock has swelled into a semi under the eight-year-old's bottom, Bob struggles to his feet. "I think we've been long enough; we should go and see how Mummy's getting on," he says.
"Can I stay with Uncle Francis... Pleeease," Molly asks. Bob looks at me with a raised eyebrow.
You shrug. "Fine by me."
"Mind you do what 'Uncle' Francis tells you," he says, and he and Harry leave me alone with his cute, sexy little daughter. Well, not really alone, since there were plenty of other people about.
"You like little girls don't you Uncle Francis," she says, snuggling up a little more and pushing you hand lower down on her belly.
You can't help but smile. "Oh yes. Especially cute ones like you." It occurs to you that before this holiday, you would have had no idea what to do or say in this situation."
She wriggles her bottom, which is right on top of your now fully stiff cock, and giggles. "I thought so," she says. She's clearly aware of your reaction and probably knows exactly what she's sitting on, but with no previous experience on how to take it further, I have to let her take the lead.
"Can I go for a swim," she asks, suddenly.
"I, I'm not sure," you say. "Do you go swimming back home?" She assures you that they go every Saturday morning. "I guess so. Have you got your costume?"
Quick as a flash, she whips off her skimpy top and short skirt, revealing an electric blue bikini bottom and a chest as flat as a boy's. "I have to wear a stupid top in the pool at home, this is much better," she says and runs off to jump into the water. It's surprisingly hard to keep track of her among all the others and you are distracted by a gorgeous blonde twelve-year-old girl with perfect half-orange sized tits, who keeps getting in your line of sight.
Suddenly, Molly pops up right in front of you. "I need a wee," she announces. You tear your eyes away from the blonde and help your little adopted niece out of the pool. You assume that she'll go back to her room, but instead, she leads you over to the changing area. It's separate from the pool but there's no separation for ladies and gents, just a communal area and row of cubicles. You find her an empty one, intending to wait outside, but to your surprise, she insists you come in to help her.