Two Book Special - Tumblr Niece and Tumblr Milf
Lubrican
Two Book Special
Tumblr Niece and Tumblr Milf
by Robert Lubrican
Bookapy Edition
Copyright 2013 Robert Lubrican
Second edition edited 2023
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Rights to use cover art purchased at freepic.com
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Table of Contents
Tumblr Niece
And
Tumblr Milf
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Foreword
At the time these books were written one could Google "Tumblr" and be presented with ten thousand sites consisting of collections of naked people. Many of those sites were very specific in the genre of nudity they collected, such as women riding bicycles, or pregnant women, or nursing women and on and on. It didn't matter what a kind of nudity you were after, you could find a Tumblr site that had it. Many of the pictures displayed were shared between "webmasters" or "re-tweeted" to use modern terminology, so the same picture could be found on a thousand sites. In 2018, because Tumblr couldn't filter out child porn, it was basically taken down and was no longer searchable. The author applauds the spirit in which people insisted Tumblr was awful, terrible, sinful, illegal and an abomination because of the child porn aspect of things. Kiddie porn is, in fact, all of those things because it victimizes the helpless. The author thinks a better approach might have been to lock up those who collected it, and execute those who produced it. But the author wasn't king when all this happened and had no say in things. What this story portrays, however, was entirely possible back in the day. I didn't just make it all up.
Now, there will be some who accuse me of being a hypocrite, because I say purveyors of kiddie porn should be gassed, at the same time the first book in this volume is a story about an underage girl being involved sexually with a grown man. I think there is a major difference, though. On the one hand, an author is dreaming up a fictional story in which no one is hurt, either figuratively or literally. No girls were hurt in the writing of this story. On the other hand, those who take pictures of little girls, either sexualizing them or involving them in actual sex acts and then sell those pictures for profit are, in fact hurting real people who cannot defend themselves. I think these things are apples and oranges. You don't have to agree, of course and I encourage you not to read this story if you think writing fiction is just as damaging as making children act sexy for the camera, or selling their bodies before they even finish school.
Bob
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Book One: Tumblr Niece
Chapters - One | Two
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Chapter One
My name is Bob, and I'm six-three, with dark, wavy hair and a six pack you could rest marbles in if I was lying down. I have a foot long dick, and more pussy than I can find the time to keep happy.
You buying any of this?
I don't blame you. It's all lies. That's how most of these stories start, but they're probably all lies too.
So why am I starting out with an outrageous lie? Well ... in my case, the truth is just as crazy. And I can't tell anybody I know about it. Hell, if I did, they wouldn't believe me anyway. So I'm going to tell you, because if I don't tell somebody, I'm going to go crazy.
My name isn't Bob, but we'll stick with that for now. You'll understand why I don't want to be identified later. I'm not six foot, three inches tall. I'm a shade under seventy inches. My hair is short, because it's easier to take care, and because I got used to having it that way while I was in the Army. I can still do a hundred sit-ups, but marbles would roll right off of me. Sorry, it's just the way things are.
And, as for women, there have been a few, but there isn't one right now and hasn't been one for quite some time. The last two relationships I was in were based on lust, rather than love; on their part. I fall in love easily, like my sister, who you'll hear about in a minute. My track record with women, unfortunately, is about like hers is with men. That's just a fact too.
There's really nothing special about me, in fact. I got hurt while I was on active duty, in what would be called an "industrial accident" in the civilian world. The Army called it dereliction of duty, in terms of the specialist operating the combat forklift that ran over me. They had to put a steel pin in my right femur, and had to rebuild both the tibia and fibula in my left leg. That got me the "golden ticket" of being medically retired at a 90% disability rating. It's only a thousand bucks a month, but it's tax free and the GI Bill also got me a degree in data systems engineering. I formed my own company and I do all right. I never wanted to be rich anyway.
Actually, other than a slight limp, it's hard for anyone to tell I was injured. I can tell when it's going to rain or snow, but that's more of an annoyance than actual handicap.
Okay, enough about me. I'm just an ordinary guy.
The story actually started on an ordinary day, a Monday, in fact, when I opened my email and found, among the dozens of work related things, one from my niece. She's much more interesting than I am, and since all these stories describe the girl too, I will. But in this case, I'll give you the real scoop.
Elizabeth, who I just call Lizzy most of the time, is just shy of ... well never mind how old she is ... she's a healthy young woman who usually presents with a long, blond pony tail, that reaches just past her shoulder blades when up, and to the middle of her back when it's down. It's that golden blond color that looks like it has brown highlights in it in the sun, except you can't find them if you look closely. She's slim, but only because she's active. Her mother is tending toward heavy these days, and the same is in Lizzy's future if she doesn't keep up her active lifestyle. She also has her mother's breasts, which are, shall we say ... generous. They developed early, and the scamp learned to use them on men early as well. She practiced by pushing them and rubbing them against me during hello and goodbye hugs. There was even a time when I accused her of doing it on purpose, just to tease me.
Her response? "It's what girls do, Uncle Bob. I have to practice on somebody. If not you, then who should it be?"
That sounds like she was coming on to me, but that wasn't the case. Not really. It's not like every time we were together she threw herself at me, or anything like that. She was just unabashedly friendly and intimate with me on a level that might exceed the usual uncle/niece relationship. She saw me as "safe", which meant she could take things farther with me than she did any other male. Actually, she didn't "take things farther." All she did was try some things she was curious about.
The other thing is that, along with her upper body, her bottom developed nicely, too. She has that typical hourglass shape that you see on the Victoria's Secret models who actually look like women, instead of sticks with clothes draped on them.
She looks delicious in a bikini, and yes, I've had inappropriate thoughts about her on many occasions. I never did anything about them, of course ... but I had them. I won't lie.
Lizzy lives two blocks from me with my sister, Monica, who finally gave up men after she dumped her third husband. Number one was Lizzy's father, who somehow got the idea that Monica was a punching bag instead of a good woman. That was when I was still in the Army, and I beat him bloody one time when I went over and found her all bruised up. I let him hit me a few times, so there would be evidence that I had to defend myself. He decided giving her a divorce was in his best interests. Number two was a cowboy she met in a roadhouse one night when she went looking for trouble and found it. He did the Rodeo circuit, trying to strike it big as a bull rider. When she gave him the ultimatum that it was either her or the Rodeo, he chose to ride bulls and broncs instead of riding her. Lizzy was twelve when he showed up on the scene, and fifteen when he left and he's the one who got her hooked on barrel racing. Number three was a stock broker who she caught cheating on her with her former best friend. Number three is why she only has to work part time.
Without going into boring details surrounding birthdays and Thanksgiving and so on, suffice it to say I got along with husbands two and three as well as any in-law does. They didn't beat up my sister, so that was a plus. But I suspect that the, shall we say transient nature of Monica's relationships with men, might have been responsible for Lizzy fixating on me as perhaps the only stable male relationship in her life. I mean there was all that hugging, and rubbing her precious teenage titties against my chest while she murmured how good my aftershave smelled, and all that.
Of course I never took any of that seriously. It was good for a fantasy and all, but she was a girl, and I was old enough to be her father, and the world just doesn't work that way anyway ... right?
Well that's what I thought too, until I got an email from her one day that had photos attached.
Lizzy was a member of 4-H, and had friends related to husband number two. One of them, in fact, was who boarded her horse, which was a birthday present from number two after he actually did ride a series of bulls long enough to win some money. She rode that horse in barrel races at various events, such as the rodeo at the county fair, and 4-H rodeos. She also rode in parades, either with groups of her 4-H friends, or even the mounted sheriff's patrol, which was ceremonial only. Everybody loved to have Lizzy mounted in a parade with them. Men aren't the only people who can look good in a uniform.
Personally, I think that's because pretty much everybody wanted to mount Lizzy.
So it wasn't unusual for me to get an email with a set of pictures of her racing from one end of an arena to the other, cutting her horse around barrels, pony tail flying, an intense look on her face. And I loved getting those, because she was the quintessential image of a healthy young cowgirl, ripe and ready. The form-fitting western shirts, and skin tight jeans, which were tucked into tooled boots covered her body, true, but they also showcased it as well. Her wide, leather belt, with a huge buckle made of old nickels soldered together, gave some scale as her breasts bounced up and down in time with the horse's gait. You couldn't watch Lizzy on a horse, without wishing you were the guy whose bedroll she'd climb into by the campfire that night.
As I said. I was used to getting photos like that. She had a whole crew of friends who loved to take them.
But what I was not used to getting was a picture of her lying on her stomach on her bed, knees bent, toes in the air while she manipulated the PS3 controller in her hands, staring at the little TV I knew to be in her room.
Sounds domestic enough ... right?
Except for the fact she was stark naked.
Well, not stark naked, technically. She did have on knee socks. They were rainbow colored, striped, and that splash of color on both lower legs was perfectly placed to frame her moist, juicy-looking, pouting pussy lips, clearly visible between thighs that were spread just enough to give her balance as she leaned left and right, using unconscious body movements against the game.
I stared. I could only see part of her face in profile. Whoever had taken the picture had been behind her. I could even see the blurry image of the game she was playing, because the TV was only a couple of feet from her bed, on a chair. But it was undeniably her. That dark blond ponytail I mentioned was lying on her back, carelessly falling to one side. If her arm hadn't been as close to her side as it was, that hair would have been caressing the side of her breast. And it was her bed, and her things in the background. I had been in that bedroom before.
Which brought up the primary question: Who the fuck took that picture?!
There were no clues as to that. The flash had been used, so there were no shadows thrown by the taker. There were also no mirrors, or shiny things I could see reflections in.
I looked at the file name of the picture. It was 100-0764.jpg. I looked at the fourteen other pictures that were of her barrel racing, or sitting on her horse, smiling brilliantly, or standing by her horse, or talking to some of her equally gorgeous cowgirl friends. The file names for those were 100-0765.jpg through 100-0778.jpg. The one of her on the bed had been taken before the Rodeo shots. But obviously not at the rodeo. She must have either clicked and dragged a list to attach the pictures to her email, or individually selected them as a group. And in the process ... she included one she hadn't meant to include. Hugs and rubbing aside, I was sure she hadn't sent me that picture intentionally.
I went back and stared at the photo itself. It wasn't my imagination. Her pussy lips did look moist. I couldn't help but wonder if any penis had split those delicious looking lips, sliding between them to plumb her dark and steamy depths.
I became aware that I was stiff as a board.
And yes, I confess ... I took out my cock and stroked it, staring at that picture, imagining mounting her from behind, until I spurted all over the floor under my desk.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I was sure it had been a mistake. She had not meant to send me that picture. The text of the email was standard stuff. "uncle bob omg i actually got second place at the regional trials i only got a ribbon but it was so much fun i wish you could come to these i love you bye" Like I assume is typical in today's texting environment, she never used capitals or punctuation. I never get mail from any other teenager, but I assume that's normal too. Only that one extra picture was abnormal.
I have to admit I was obsessed with that photograph. The shot itself was horrifyingly beautiful. I say horrifying because it bothered me on so many levels. First off, because of that picture, I now wanted to fuck my niece. There was no getting around that. Not that I was going to do anything about that desire, but it was a lot stronger than the mere "innocent" fantasies I'd had of her in the past. Second, I just couldn't stand the thought that it was some punk boy, some kid her age who had taken that picture. I had awful images in my mind of this kid with no face, who was playing video games with my niece, taking a break only to climb on top of her and fill her pussy with his little prick and her belly with his spend.
It drove me a little crazy.
I'm not exaggerating here. I was so upset by this that I planned and executed a secret mission to try to learn more.
Seriously!
What I did was call my sister, and tell her it had been much too long since I'd tasted her cooking, or sat and watched a movie with her.
That was actually true, and since she and I had been pretty close, growing up, she was always up for spending some time with me. The only fight I could ever remember having with her was the one after I beat the piss out of number one and threatened his life if he ever touched her again. Basically he got frustrated, yelled "Mother fucker!" and stomped out of the house. First she hugged me, sobbing and clinging to me. Then she raged at me for butting in, asking me what the hell she was going to do now. I told her find a better fucking husband and we yelled at each other for another ten minutes. Then Lizzy toddled in and started crying because we were yelling. We made up and she confessed that this wasn't the first time he'd done it.
Anyway, Monica said "Come on over. Bring pizza and beer," so that's what I did.
My plan was to get Lizzy to choose the movie. That way she'd be engaged, and I'd have time to snoop. And it worked perfectly too.
Well, almost.
She picked something called "The Color of Magic," which was this ridiculous science fiction kind of sort of thing with a flat world perched on the back of four elephants, who were standing on the shell of a huge turtle, swimming through space. But I didn't care. I said I'd already seen it, and recommended it highly, and they told Netflix to stream the thing. It was silly, but actually interesting too. I let it get half an hour into things, when the plot was beginning to unfold, and then said "Potty break. I must have eaten something that didn't agree with me. I might be a while. Don't stop it for me. I remember what happens."
Then I got up and went to Lizzy's bedroom.
The TV was back on top of her chest of drawers, and the chair was back in place at her computer desk. She'd just put the computer to sleep, and it came up quickly. I executed a search for the file name 100-0764.jpg. It was on the C: drive, not hidden at all, right in her "my pictures" folder. I went to explore and navigated to that folder. It was set for thumbnails. There were lots of pictures in there, probably four or five hundred. Everything I could see was just normal snapshots. I changed it to display the file details, sorted it for file name, and went to find file 100-0764. There it was, in line numerically with a bunch that came both before it, and after it. I knew the after photos were the ones of her barrel racing. I double clicked on 100-0764. It was the one she'd sent me by accident.
I closed it and double clicked 100-0763. It was another picture, taken in her bedroom. She was in it, dressed only in those same bright rainbow knee socks. But this time she was stretched out on her bed, in the arms of an equally naked girl who I happened to know was named Lou Ann. They were kissing.
Lou Ann was one of her 4-H buddies. There was a group of them that I had often seen together, quite often in pictures at 4-H events. I had never seen them like this, though. I clicked the "previous" button on the image viewer, and saw Lizzy standing with Lou Ann and two other girls, named Kandy and Nicole. They were all hamming it up for the camera ... and all of them were even more naked than my niece.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Bob?" came the call of my sister.
I frantically pushed the off button of the computer, holding it until I saw the light around it go dark. I didn't have time for anything else. I quickly tiptoed out of her room, leaving the door open.
"Bob?" called Monica again.
"Yeah!" I called.
"Bring me a beer when you come back!" she called.
"Me too!" yelled Lizzy. I heard her laugh and her mother scold her.
I got a bottle of Miller and a can of Mountain Dew and took them back to the living room, where there was a bar fight going on, on the screen. I handed the bottle to Monica. Lizzy was lying on her stomach on the floor, her chest on three throw pillows all stacked up. She was in the same position as the picture I had looked at only a minute before, on her computer, except that she was clothed. Her T shirt had ridden up, though, and a small slice of her lower back was exposed. Don't ask me why, but I pressed the cold can of pop against that exposed skin.
She squawked, and rolled over. My eyes went to the front of her T shirt, where her breasts thrust out. A small slice of skin over her belly was also exposed.
"Uncle Bob!" she complained.
"Sorry," I said. I stood up and felt a little light headed. I blamed it on standing too quickly after having been bent over. My eyes drifted to the crotch of her jeans, where he legs were splayed apart.
"No you're not," she said. "What's wrong?"
"Wrong?" I finally looked at her face. Both of her eyebrows were up.
"You're all flushed," she said.
I felt the heat in my face, then, and put a hand up to touch it automatically.
"Beats me," I said. I went and sat back down by Monica. Her hand rose and fell on my thigh, only inches from my penis, which was more than half hard.
"I haven't seen a good bar fight since Rodney left," she said, casually. Rodney was number two.
"I'm sorry you're so deprived," I said, trying to get my mind off of my niece ... and my sister's hand.
I watched the rest of the movie, but I'm not sure I could write a description of it. I kept thinking about the very quick looks I had gotten at pictures which, more and more, appeared to my mind as having been taken at a slumber party of some kind. And it wasn't just the average, run-of-the-mill garden variety slumber party. No, these girls were the very best of friends.
Still ... who had taken the pictures? Another girl? Maybe Samantha, who was also one of the regulars. Or some boy they had snuck into the house that night.
I know. I'm a pervert. Deal with it. And besides ... maybe it's not all that perverted. I wanted there to be a guy involved, somehow, because that would make the girls bisexual, and it was important for my fantasies that they be bi-sexual. I just wanted to be the guy. That's all.
All this dominated my thoughts, as I watched dragons fly, and sword fights, and a treasure chest kind of thing that had legs and ran around saving the day. It was a weird movie, but not weird enough to keep my eyes off my niece's very cute bubble butt.
Which might be why, after the movie was over, and the credits were rolling, and Monica got up to take two fistfuls of beer bottles to the recycling container in the kitchen, when my niece rolled over to lie, reclining on those pillows and looked at me, I said "I got your email with the pictures in it. They made my day."
"Really?" Did she sound strained, or was it just my imagination?
"Really," I said.
Her smile bloomed. "Wanna see my ribbon?" she asked, sitting up effortlessly, as only the young can, and bouncing up onto her feet. There was no hint of anything naughty or saucy about her look, or her behavior.
"Sure," I said.
She took my hand and dragged me to her bedroom. She didn't notice the door was now open. I stood there, just inside the door, looking at the bed. She went to a shelf crowded with trophies. They were all pretty much the same, made of cheap, gilded plastic, set on a brown wooden base, with a brass plaque on it that commemorated the event and the date, and what place the winner had been. There was also a little box overflowing with colorful ribbons. I was reminded of those rainbow knee socks...
"See?" She turned and thrust a red ribbon at me proudly.
"It's beautiful," I said, trying not to look at her breasts. "So were the pictures." I winced mentally. Why couldn't I talk about something other than the pictures?!
"There are more!" she said. "I'll show them to you!"
She went to her computer and touched the keyboard.
I expected nothing to happen. After all, she had left her computer asleep, but I had turned it off. So she'd have to boot from startup.
Except that's not what happened.
There are two ways to put a Windows operating system to sleep. One is to use the mouse, and select that feature from the shut down menu. The other is to push the off button for exactly the right amount of time, and then release it. If you press too long, the power is abruptly cut. That is what I thought I had done, when I heard my sister calling, and thought she might be coming to find me.
Turns out all I did was put it to sleep.
When the screen bloomed to life ... there were Lizzy, Lou Ann, Kandy and Nicole ... all smiling at us ... naked ... with their arms around each other.
I had just enough time to stare at it and notice that Nicole's hand was all the way around Kandy, cupping her breast, when Lizzy turned and saw the screen.
She froze.
"Shit!" she gasped.
She ran and stood in front of the screen, facing me. Her eyes were wild. That moment was the first time that I was absolutely sure she had not intended to send me the picture she had sent me.
"I'm sorry!" she said, her voice shaky.
"Sorry?" I wasn't sure what else to say. I was still processing things myself.
"Please don't tell Mom," she pleaded.
"Okay," I said. "I won't."
She turned around, bent over and grabbed for the mouse. I stared at her round bottom some more.
Lizzy wasn't a dumb girl. Not by any stretch of the imagination. And while she might not have known computers as well as I did, she wasn't clueless about them either. It didn't take long for her to think through what had just happened.
"How did that happen?" she asked out loud.
"How did what happen?" I asked.
"How did that picture get on my screen?"
That was uncomfortably close to an area of history I did not want her to investigate. I tried to block with humor.
"Well, the OS is called by the user to display a file, and it tells the graphics viewing card to make various pixels glow, which creates an image on the screen."
She stared at me.
"I know how it works," she said. "But that's not what I was doing the last time I used the computer."
"Not what you were doing?"
"I wasn't looking at pictures!" she snapped. "Somebody's been in here!" She went still, and looked horrified. "My mother!" she whispered.
Now, this told me a couple of things. I now knew that her mother did not know what the girls were up to during their slumber parties. If she did, there would be no angst. I also knew them both, very well. They had that best friends kind of mother/daughter relationship that every mother wishes she had with her daughter, but so few actually do. All this picture business might be something she'd kept secret from her mother, but now that she thought the secret was out, I knew she'd talk to her mother about this, either very soon, or sooner or later. I could see where this was going to go. She'd broach the subject with her mother, seeking to get forgiveness, or at least explain. Her mother would respond in a way that would make it clear she had not peeked at the computer. But she would push for more details, of course, uncovering everything in the process. After that little meltdown was over, Lizzy would reflect on the only other person who was present that night ... the only other potential suspect. She would connect the dots, and hold me responsible for the fact that she was now grounded until she was thirty.
"It wasn't your mother," I blurted.
"What?" She looked at me with raised eyebrows.
"It was me," I said, swallowing, and hoping she wouldn't scream at me loudly enough to get Monica's attention.
"You?" She sounded confused.
"Move," I said, tersely. I walked toward the computer. I had to physically move her aside. She had closed the picture viewer. I opened explore again and navigated to the directory. I looked over my shoulder at the open door.
"Close the door," I said softly.
"What are you doing?" she asked. Her voice was high and she sounded a little scared.
"Just close the door for a minute," I whispered.
She did.
"Come here," I said.
She did, and I highlighted file 100-0765. I double clicked it. There she was, standing by her horse, smiling.
"You sent me that picture," I said.
"Yes." She sounded completely confused.
I clicked the previous arrow, which displayed 100-0764. There was that luscious pussy.
"You also sent me this one," I said. "By accident, I suspect," I added.
There was what I believe is called a pregnant silence.
"Shit!" she yipped again. "You weren't supposed to see that!"
My ears perked up. She didn't sound embarrassed. It was more like she was angry.
"I'm sorry I intruded on your privacy," I said, urgently, trying to get my message out to her before she reacted loudly. "I didn't know whether you'd sent it on purpose, or by mistake. I was trying to figure that out, so I snuck in here earlier tonight to take a look around. I found the others ... I figured out it was just a slumber party picture, or something like that. I'm sorry. I swear I won't ever do it again."
She stood up and looked at me.
"You thought I sent that to you on purpose?"
You know how you can have the high ground one minute, and lose it instantaneously the next?
"Well ... you know how you've teased me all these years," I offered in my defense.
Suddenly the color drained from her face.
"Did you look at ... all of them?" she asked, her voice in a whisper.
"All of them?" I didn't know how to answer that question.
"How many did you see?" she asked, suddenly very intense.
"Three," I said. "Your mom called me and I had to stop. I thought I turned it off, but I only put it to sleep."
"Three," she said, looking past my head. "So that's why the picture was there when I brought it up."
I nodded.
"I'm really sorry, Lizzy," I said. "I didn't mean to spy."
"Of course you did," she said, folding her arms under generous breasts. "But you only saw three pictures?"
It sounded important to her. I know I should have said "Yes," but I didn't.
"You mean there are more?"
The male part of me must have shone through, because she said "Down, boy. You're not supposed to see those."
My question was the obvious one. "Well who is?"
Now she blushed.
"It was Sam's idea. She wanted to send them to this tumblr site.
I blinked. I knew what she was talking about. Tumblr.com hosts what they call blogs, which can, in fact, be a traditional blog format. But a significant section of their users simply use their blog to post porn. There are literally thousands of them, with page after page after page of pictures of naked men, women and everything else under the sun. Suddenly, thinking back on the pictures I'd seen on her computer, I realized they were very much like pictures I'd seen on various Tumblr blogs.
And that meant those pictures were out where anybody in the world, who had a computer, could see them.
"Are you fucking insane?" I gasped.
Chapter Two
I had lusted after my niece. I had even masturbated while looking at a picture of her pussy. And then I had snooped on her computer.
But suddenly, what I had done was small potatoes.
"You put those pictures online?!" I gasped.
"Just some of them," she said, taken aback at how furious I was. "Sam said nobody could ever find us."
"And what about people who already know you?" I asked, acidly.
"She said nobody who knows us would ever see them!" she said, defending their foolish decision.
"Why?" I asked. "Why would you do that?"
"It was just for fun, Uncle Bob!" she whined. "It made us feel pretty ... grown up."
"And what if your principal, at school, sees them?" I asked. "What if Jake, who runs the Mini Mart where you buy your gas, sees them? What if your 4H sponsor sees them?"
"They don't look at that stuff," she said, sounding quite sure. "Besides, she only submitted them to one place. That's all. The chances of anybody we know seeing them is less than winning the lottery."
"Oh really," I said. "Let's just find out about that ... what do you say?"
"What?" She looked nervous now.
"What site did she submit them to?" I asked.
"I don't know!" she said. "She knew someplace. She talked to this guy on email and he said he'd be happy to see how cute we all were."
I refrained from groaning.
"So he has Sam's email address, which means he has her ISP, which means he can hack into her service provider's records and find out her full name, and address."
"No way, Uncle Bob," she said, still confident. "You might know how to do all that stuff, but hardly anybody else does. Besides. He'd only find out who Sam is, and she doesn't care. She's talking about meeting up with the guy. They've been writing to each other for over a year."
I sighed. "Did I mention that you're in her email contacts? And that he can do exactly the same to you?"
"But why would he?" she complained.
"Maybe he would do it for kicks," I said. "Maybe he'd try to sell the information to someone else, whose motives are unknown. The point is it can be done, and that puts you in danger, even if it's only hypothetical! All I did was jerk off to the picture you sent me by mistake. There are people out there who would want to do a hell of a lot more than that. You hear about them on the news every day, if you listen to what passes for the news today."
I hadn't meant to say that part about jerking off, but I'd gotten carried away. Thankfully, she hadn't seemed to have picked up on that particular part of my comment. But the whole of it appeared to get her to take things more seriously.
"So ... what do we do?" she asked, looking down at the floor.
"Well, the first thing is to find out from Sam where she sent those pictures."
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and texted quickly. She put it back in her pocket. It went off almost immediately and she answered it.
"I need to know the address of the website where you sent the pictures," she said into the phone. There was a pause. "Yes, those pictures." Another pause. "Never mind why I need to know. Just tell me!" She waved to me and then pointed at her computer desk. She made a writing motion. I opened a drawer and got her a pencil and a piece of paper. She wrote, said her goodbye and put the phone back in her pocket. She extended the paper to me. "Here"
I sat down, pulled up her browser and typed in the address. A typical tumblr picture blog popped onto the screen.
"This is weird," she said from behind me.
"Why?" I asked.
"I'm not used to my uncle looking at dirty pictures."
I didn't look at her. "Well, I'm not used to my niece appearing in dirty pictures."
She was silent.
"When did she post them?" I asked.
"I don't know ... maybe six months ago? After she sent them, he told her where to look, and we did, and we saw them and freaked out, but after that we didn't go look at them again."
"You didn't, but I bet other people did," I said.
I opened the calendar listing for the site and clicked on February, since it was July now. A new screen full of pictures showed up.
"Help me look," I said.
She leaned over my shoulder, and her left breast pushed into the back of my right shoulder. I could smell her body wash, or whatever it was that smelled like flowers.
"I don't want you to see these," she said.
"Why not?"
"Because you'll think there's something wrong with me," she said.
"Not in a million years," I said.
I saw one before she did. It was the socks that did it. I clicked on it. There was my beautiful, naked niece, with Sam behind her. One of Sam's hands was on Lizzy's left breast. The other one was playing between Lizzy's legs. Both girls were smiling.
"Ohhhh nooo," she moaned, right in my ear.
"Looks like fun," I said, trying to keep us both from freaking out. I paged down to the list I knew would be there. That list was of subscribers who "followed" this blog, meaning that whenever a new picture was added, that follower would be notified. Followers could also leave comments on each picture. This one had about fifteen.
"Look there," I said, pointing to one entry which said "tittielicker69 re-blogged this photo."
"Okay," she said.
"That means your photograph is now on his site too.
"What? We didn't tell him he could do that!"
"You didn't have to. When you sent this guy your pictures, you gave up ownership of them, for all practical purposes."
I pointed to seven other places where the picture had been re-blogged.
"And each of them has followers, who probably re-blogged it too. Your gorgeous naked body is plastered all over the place, Lizzy."
"Shit!" she said, softly. "I thought they'd only be at that one place."
I clicked the back arrow.
We found the other ten on the next page. In one of them Kandy was licking Lou Ann's pussy. In another Lizzy was obviously loving the way Nicole was eating her pussy. Each time I found one, Lizzy moaned in my ear. When the one of her with Nicole between her thighs came up, she put her hands over my eyes and said "Don't look!"
I gently pulled her hands away.
"I'm not a lesbian," she said, sounding like she might cry.
"I know," I said.
"How do you know?" she asked.
"Because of the way you treat me," I said. "Because of the way you've always treated me."
"You mean you knew?" she gasped.
Now, let me pause for just a second and make something clear. I'm writing all this as if it was just an uncle sitting in a chair with his niece behind his back and they were doing this, and doing that, and everything was pretty normal.
Not even close.
What we had just been through had shaken us both. It shook me up, because I realized my cute, little niece was all grown up now. Sure, she had made some stupid mistakes, but mistakes in your teens are the rule, rather than the exception. That's what the teens are for, after all. And it shook her up because while taking these pictures had been a rush, and great naughty fun, someone she knew was seeing them. So neither of us was fully up to speed at this juncture.
To her question I said "Knew what?" That's because I had no idea what she was talking about.
"That I've been crazy in love with you for as long as I can remember," she confessed. And she confessed that because she was too shook up to reflect on my comment of "Knew what?"
About then I grasped what she'd just said, and she grasped the fact that she'd blurted out something she hadn't had to. I turned to look at her. She looked scared.
"All the girls have this huge crush on you," she added, weakly. I think it was her effort to mitigate her previous statement, which went sort of beyond the "crush" stage of things.
Don't ask me why I said it ... but I did.
"Then why didn't you guys just come get naked for me, instead of putting it out for the whole fucking world to see?!"
* * * * * * * * * * * *
We couldn't spend much more time closeted in her room, or her mother would wonder what had become of us. So I told her to gather the girls together at my house the following afternoon for a council of war. She wanted to know what I meant, and I told her I'd explain it later. Then we left her room. I hugged Monica goodbye and started out the door.
"Wait!" yelled Lizzy.
She came and hugged me. It was a very tentative hug, instead of the usual rub-all-over-Uncle-Bob sort of thing she usually did.
"Thank you for not hating me," she whispered.
Again, don't ask me why I did it, but I slipped one hand up to her left breast. I said "I could never hate you," and gave it a little squeeze.
She yelped and jumped back as I slipped out the door, grinning.
All in all, it was an interesting night for me. As I reflected on things, I couldn't help but think about how much farther along the "I am a woman" track Lizzy was than I had thought only hours earlier. Her comment about being crazy in love with me, I took with a grain of salt. But I did think about how she changed it to "crush" when it came to the others. That was interesting too. The others had flirted with me at one time or another, but I hadn't been around them all that much, really. I couldn't think of a single thing either Nicole or Samantha and I had ever had a discussion about. Lou Ann had asked me some computer questions one time, while both she and I were at my sister's house. Kandy, on another occasion, had asked me if I liked a particular music group. I remember thinking how odd that was at the time. Now I understood.
Lizzy wasn't sure all the girls would come, since they were being assembled at my house, but they did. When they got there I directed them to the den, where there were two couches and some chairs. Lizzy hadn't told them anything about why they were there, but I had set up a computer linked to the 55" flat screen TV on the wall. I had also gone back to the tumblr site, once I got home, and downloaded all ten of the pictures the girls had taken. I put them into a Power Point presentation on a constant loop, and had it running with the TV off. Once all the girls were there, were comfortably seated, and had something to drink, I began speaking.
"Sometimes people, especially young people, do things without thinking them through completely," I said. "This sometimes generates uncomfortable situations in which important lessons can be learned. That's what you are all here to do today ... learn from your mistakes."
"What mistakes?" asked Sam. She was the confident (overconfident) one, and a natural leader.
"These," I said, and thumbed the remote control that turned the TV on.
There was stunned silence at first, then gasps, and then mutters. I clearly heard one female voice say "What the fuck?" and another one say "How?"
Lizzy executed her part in this little charade.
"How did you get those?" she asked, sounding properly horrified.
"I found them on the internet," I said, calmly.
I bent to the laptop and minimized Power Point. I had a tumblr site up on the web browser.
"I found them right here."
There had been one follower who had re-blogged all ten pictures from the original site. That's the one I had on the screen. I saw Sam looking at the address bar, and the name of the site.
"That's not where we sent them!" she blurted.
"So you did send them yourselves," I said. "I was going to ask if maybe someone had taken these through a window or something."
Sam looked at me with an arched eyebrow. Somehow, I knew I was busted.
"Anybody could clearly see those were taken from inside the room," she said. "You knew we put these online. That's the mistake you were talking about." She looked at Lizzy, who apparently also knew she was busted.
"I didn't tell him," said my niece. "He found them and confronted me."
"And you spilled your guts," said Sam.
"No," I said softly. "You spilled all your guts ... right out there on the internet where I have found at least fifty places where your pictures have proliferated."
"What?" there were multiple gasps. Nicole and Lou Anne turned on Samantha.
"You said they'd only be on this guy's site for a week, and then he'd take them down!" said Nicole.
"He lied," I said.
It took another half hour, and moving to ten more sites before it sank in that they were a hell of a lot more visible to the world than they thought they'd been.
Finally Sam said "So what do we do?"
"That," I said, "is why you're all here today. You're going to work to try to repair the damage."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I won't go into details, but what I had the girls do was each take a list of five websites that had re-blogged their pictures, and write to each of them, identifying the photos by file name and claiming copyright infringement. The site, assuming the operator cared, was then required to remove that picture from the blog. Once they had contacted their initial five websites, each girl fanned out from there, finding more and more sites that had posted their pictures.
It took them well into the school year until they began having a hard time finding their pictures anywhere. I got to know all of them really well in the process, because there were a number of working sessions at my house, where they could delve into things without fear of a parent finding them staring at page after page of naughty pictures.
You might say fate had lent a hand. I now had four "girlfriends" of a sort. We didn't go out on dates, and there were no make-out sessions or anything like that. But we were all very comfortable in each other's presence. Twice I had seen a little casual kiss passed between the girls as they took a break from working on trying to fix their foolishness. They knew they could never get them all off the net, but the goal was to get all the newer reblogging down, so that only the old, musty, dusty sites might have an errant photo or two on them, old photos that hopefully few would see, and even fewer would decide to keep.