Nepi Fiction
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Nepi Fiction
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Warnings: Look out, plenty of pure, unadulterated smarm ahead!
Cute children and Jim and Blair in bedtime attire -- BYOB (bring your own
[drool] bucket).
Downstairs with Uncle Jim
by Robyn
June 1998
"Uncle Blair." A small voice gently tried to nudge its way
into the dreams of the young man who was sleeping so soundly amongst the
covers of the guest room bed, but his deep, even breathing continued without
interruption.
"Uncle Blair!" This time a small hand planted itself on the man's
shoulder and delivered a series of small shoves. A deep inhale and a sigh
rewarded the owner of the arm -- alas, the sleeping figure rolled from
his back to his side and resumed the even breathing of his previously peaceful
rest.
"Uncle Blairrrrr!" A slight whining quality had crept
into the child's tone of voice, and this time the shoves were more pronounced,
managing to actually shake the frame of the anthropologist.
"Wha?" Eyelids opened only to squinting size, the deep blue eyes
beneath them still obviously fogged with sleepiness. They could barely
make out the figure of a four-year-old pajama-clad little auburn-haired
girl standing at the side of the bed directly in front of his face. The
darkened unfamiliar room and decor disoriented him for a few seconds, but
then he remembered where he was.
Somehow Blair managed to wake up enough muscles to pull himself to the
sitting position. His comfortable gray tank-top and red plaid boxers were
creased with scattered wrinkles where he'd been laying on them, and his
hair -- well, the rumpled curls were as good as could be expected in the
middle of the night.
"Uncle Blair -- Uncle Blair, I can't sleep." The little girl
was speaking again now.
"Why not, Kimberly?" The eyelids had finally opened more widely.
"I didn't get a story. Mommy and Daddy always read me a story."
Blair had to smile at the girl in spite of himself. She knows I'm a
sucker. Kids always know, he thought.
Jim and Blair were spending Sunday night on a baby-sitting assignment over
at Jim's brother Steven's big house on the outskirts of Cascade. Earlier
that morning they'd received a phone call at the loft. Steven's wife Anna
had just received word that her mother had suddenly become ill, and she
had to fly down to California. Steven couldn't get a flight back from Japan
where he was on a business trip until Monday morning. Sally, the housekeeper
for Jim and Steven's dad, often took care of Steven and Anna's two children,
but she was also out of town on vacation as was old man Ellison himself
-- he was off golfing somewhere with his buddies. Could Jim and Blair watch
the kids till Steven could get back? Jim had hesitated initially, Blair
remembered, but the detective-uncle soon gave in when he realized Anna
was desperate.
And so it happened that Kimberly, just turned age four last week, and baby
Nathan James Ellison, 3 months old, drove up in a minivan with their mother
to spend the day with Uncle Jim and Uncle Blair. Megan had joined the four
of them for a fun-filled but tiring day at the Cascade Zoo, while demonstrating
helpful instruction on such essentials as diaper changing and how to burp
the baby after feeding him. Luckily for the two partners, Kimberly and
Nathan were well-behaved children, the opposite of child terrors. Nevertheless,
a late spring day at the zoo had tired out the guide rather effectively
and Blair had gone to bed shortly before 10 p.m., falling asleep rather
quickly.
The little girl flung her arms and chest onto the bed next to where Blair
was sitting. "Please, Uncle Blair? Please read me a story?"
Blair smiled again at the shadowy figure who was looking at him with pleading
brown eyes. He noted her plaid pajamas. Must be an Ellison thing --
looking good in plaid, he thought. The little girl also had a stuffed
animal, a bunny with long floppy ears, tucked firmly under one arm in a
head lock. Definitely Ellison . "Okay, sweetie. I'll read you
a story."
Kimberly's features immediately lit up. "Come with me, my book is
downstairs," she explained. Without waiting for a response, she took
his larger right hand with her little left one and made for the guest room's
door. Blair followed obediently.
"Shhhh, we don't want to wake Uncle Jim up," Blair whispered
as the two of them padded down the thickly carpeted hallway, quite a contrast
to the loft's rugs and wood floor.
But as they rounded the corner to where the stairs descended from the second
story into the house's family room, the sight that met Blair's eyes made
him pause for a second or two.
The spacious family room was mostly dark, backlit by light from the adjoining
kitchen. A small baby bottle sat on the counter almost empty of formula
and a soft cloth for burping lay in a pile next to it. One of the family
room's outside walls was made entirely of large windows designed to take
advantage of the house's serendipitous spot on the inclining hills comprising
the edge of Cascade proper. The vertical blinds were gathered to the sides,
graciously allowing the windows to display a full gorgeous view of the
night lights blinking across the city of Cascade.
There, silhouetted in front of the windows stood his friend Jim Ellison
in typical sleepwear -- which for him was shirtless and clad in a pair
of plaid boxers. Jim was facing away from Blair, looking out over the city
-- his city, as he now called it. Cradled with strong arms against
his bare muscled chest lay baby Nathan, eyes closed, stomach newly full,
and a contented look on his face. A chubby cheek of soft baby skin and
little clenched fists pressed themselves trustingly into the chest of his
uncle, not knowing the man was the city's champion of those in need, a
uniquely gifted warrior against evil. The baby seemed so small compared
to the man who had become his temporary caregiver -- so vulnerable and
so protected.
The figure of the sentinel holding a baby was dramatic and touching at
the same time. It was the perfect combination of strength and sensitivity,
of watchfulness and gentleness. It was the image of a man who embodied
the Greco-Roman ideal of an athlete with the tenderness of one who knew
the value of children and friendship. Something about the scene evoked
feelings much more intense than the similar photographs Blair had seen
in the mall poster store, and he felt his stomach go flip-flop with sheer
emotion and warm-fuzzies as the pleasant feeling of pure admiration washed
over him. How is it that I've come to know this man? he wondered.
It's almost unreal. . .
A tug on the hem of Blair's boxers brought him back from his reverie. "My
story's down there," she pointed, "with Uncle Jim."
"Yes, with Uncle Jim," Blair smiled, and they descended the rest
of the stairs together.
*********************
Jim Ellison turned slowly and gracefully away from the large night-filled
windows overlooking Cascade, unconsciously moving his big hand to support
baby Nathan's head. He didn't really have to look toward the staircase
to know his best friend and partner would soon be descending into the family
room -- the special aura of the guide preceded him wherever he went. And
it wasn't just the smell of his shampoo, the sound of his whispering, the
rhythm of his walk, the animated facial expressions, or the beating of
his heart, though Jim the sentinel noticed all of those things. It was
more Blair's sheer zest for life, his altruistic philosophy towards others,
his pure enthusiasm for knowledge, his unbreakable faithfulness and honesty
as a friend.
Jim smiled at Blair. He was rewarded with a smile in return as deep blue
eyes met lighter blue ones, mutually exchanging greetings of friendship
and vows of fealty. Somehow the presence of his sleep-mussed buddy seemed
to warm the room, illuminating it in a way no other person could. How
does he do that? , wondered the detective. It's one of the mysteries
of the universe.
Ellison watched as his partner and niece padded down the stairs, hand-in-hand,
heading for the big soft couch in the middle of the room. After making
sure he was seated in the proper spot, the girl finally released Blair's
hand and proceeded to rummage purposefully through the wicker basket of
books next to the couch. Without having to pause for consideration, she
selected a picture book and handed it to Blair. Kimberly then plopped herself
on Blair's lap, letting her legs string out on the couch and leaning her
head against the guide's shoulder.
Jim found himself grinning in spite of himself when he saw the title of
the book as Blair began to open it. Green Eggs and Ham.
The pages rustled as the younger man held the book out in front of himself
and the little girl and opened its cover. Then the melodic voice of the
anthropologist began to read the familiar words. Jim just stood there,
feeling the calming, familiar tones of his guide gently penetrate and soothe
his very soul. He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly to himself. I
could get used to this bedtime story with Sandburg, he thought vaguely.
"I am Sam." [page rustling noise] "Sam I am," read
the anthropologist.
Before he could stop himself, Ellison found himself reciting the next few
lines from memory easily, even though he hadn't heard the story since he
and Steven were little and Sally had read to them at night.
"That Sam-I-am! That Sam-I-am! I do not like that Sam-I-am!"
declared Jim.
Jim could feel Blair and his niece looking up, surprised expressions on
their faces, upon hearing his voice. He opened his eyes and saw the blue
eyes of his friend dancing in delight and amusement. They both grinned
at each other, and Kimberly grinned too. She didn't get this particular
brand of entertainment from her usual bedtime stories, and she was enjoying
every minute of it.
Blair decided to ham it up and assumed a distinguished British accent for
the next line. "Do you like green eggs and ham?" he said in his
most proper tone of voice.
"I do not like them, Sam-I-am. I do not like green eggs and ham,"
answered the detective correctly. Somehow the baby continued to sleep through
all of this, so Jim decided to go sit on the couch on the other side of
Blair. The picture of the four of them on the couch -- Jim holding the
baby, Kimberly settled on Blair's lap, Blair reading from the Dr. Seuss
book -- was sweeter than any of them realized.
As Blair continued to alternate as many accents as he could think of --
Aussie, lilt, twang, Brooklyn, Chicago gangster, even Indian -- with Jim
doing the lines of Sam-I-am's protesting and grudging customer, the detective
thought about the irony of the story as applied to his own life. Before
one Blair Sandburg had entered his life, Ellison had been sure of what
he did and didn't like, what he would and wouldn't do -- and wasn't about
to let anyone tell him otherwise.
"A train! A train! Could you, would you, on a train?" This time
an animated Scottish accent waited expectantly for the response.
"Not on a train! Not in a tree! Not in a car! Sam! Let me be!"
'Course, last time I tried something on a train I messed my senses up,
Jim thought ruefully.
He shook his head. I was so stubborn. Well, I still am stubborn,
he admitted to himself. It's a miracle you didn't give up on me, Chief.
Somehow, before Ellison had even known what was happening to him, the young
anthropologist had found a way into his heart and become his soul mate.
Not only had Sandburg succeeded in getting him to try foods he'd never
even heard of before; he'd succeeded in getting him to let someone into
his life, someone he could trust with his deepest fears and joys.
"You do not like them. So you say. Try them! Try them! And you may.
Try them and you may, I say," implored Blair, who had run out of accents
and now spoke in his usual voice.
Jim recited the last lines of the book, instinctively closing his eyes
and using sense memory to recall the words. As he spoke, Jim Ellison realized
that just like the character in the book, he had finally listened to the
wise counsel of his friend and the whisperings of his own heart to accept
the gift of sentinel abilities and the responsibility to use them for good.
And he knew if it hadn't been for Blair, none of that would have happened.
"I do so like green eggs and ham! Thank you, Thank you, Sam-I-am!"
finished Jim quietly.
Jim opened his eyes. Kimberly had fallen asleep, head still pressed against
Uncle Blair's shoulder, and of course baby Nathan was still sleeping. Jim
looked over at Blair, whose heavy eyelids seemed to have finally succumbed
to their weight. The book lay open on the last page in his lap. But just
as Jim was about to get up off the couch and put Nathan to bed, the eyelids
of his younger friend flickered. Jim looked at him questioningly.
"You're welcome," Blair smiled sleepily.
**********************
Having carried the two children upstairs and settled them in their own
beds, Jim descended the stairs one last time to retrieve his sleeping partner.
Amazingly Blair was still in the sitting position, his neck and hair draped
over the back of the couch, the book still in his lap.
Picking the book up and tossing it into the basket, Jim reached his arm
around his partner's waist and pulled him to a semi-standing position.
"Come on, Sam-I-am. You're gonna get a serious crick in your neck
if you sleep all night like that."
"Mmm-hmmm," murmured the anthropologist as the two of them stumbled
toward the stairs, Jim still supporting Blair around the waist and one
of Blair's arms loped lazily around Jim's waist in return, head resting
trustingly against Jim's shoulder.
As the two friends comically ascended the stairs, Jim thought he heard
Blair mumble something.
"What's that, Chief?"
"It's not fair," Blair said more clearly, though his eyes were
still mostly shut.
"What's not fair, Sandburg?"
"The green eggs. You like anything with eggs."
Jim had to chuckle. "You know me too well, Chief. Too well."
Extra disclaimer: Green Eggs and Ham was written by Dr.
Seuss.
0002 STORY; Touching Little Girls (Mg,inc,pedo)
Pig Castrator Hatchet Mus.cled George
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On Friday, October 20, 2006 at 3:22:20 AM UTC-4, Pig Castrator Hatchet Mus.cled George wrote:
On Friday, October 20, 2006 at 3:22:20 AM UTC-4, Pig Castrator Hatchet Mus.cled George wrote:
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I would like to read this. How do i do i get to read them?
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On Saturday, September 14, 2019 at 9:17:26 PM UTC-4, makel...@gmail.com wrote:
> I would like to read this. How do i do i get to read them?
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On Friday, October 20, 2006 at 3:22:20 AM UTC-4, Pig Castrator Hatchet Mus.cled George wrote:
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\01 Frogbutt posted stories\ ========================================== 0001 STORY_ Can' Take Our Panties off (b,g+,pedo) 0002 STORY; Touching Little Girls (Mg,inc,pedo) 0003 STORY_ Disobedient Step Daughter - (MF, MF+, incest, bd, reluc) 0004 STORY The 'Tiny Tots' Program (pedo, M_g, MM_f, sad) 0005 STORY Touching Little Girls (Incest-father_daughter) 0006 STORY Pre-School Fun with Teacher (H, Pedo, Cons, Masturb) 0007 STORY, Daddy's Cunt (Mg,pedo,incest) 0008 STORY The Preteen Baby Maker (M_f_f, preteen, M_F, inc, pedo) 0009 STORY Family Ways (Mf, cons, pedo, incest) 0010 STORY How I Got My Own Little Girl (pedo, coerce, enema, spank) 0011 STORY KATIE'S DISCOVERY 1 (Mf, cons, pedo, incest) 0012 STORY_ Little Jordan (preteen,pedo, f_M seduction) 0013 STORY_ Daddy's Little Cunt (Mg,pedo,incest) 0014 STORY_ My Kids Get Trained ((MM_g_b, ages 7 and 6, whippings, inc) 0015 STORY_ A Visit To The School Nurse (Lesbian sex, NC_, Drugs) 0015 STORY_ Little Billy's 1st Time (Mb,pedo,oral,1st) 0016 __This message approved by UTB__ 0017 Caught Peeping (M,g,b,incest) 0018 STORY Leslie (Mf, cons, pedo) 0019 STORY Lisa and Annie (MF,g+,cons,incest) 0020 STORY_ 15 Years Old (Mg,inc,pedo,cons) 0021 STORY_ Father Knows Best (MMF,Mf,pedo,inc,inter-racial,Mdom,hum) 0022 STORY_ A Birthday Blowjob For Daddy (Mg,pedo,inc,oral,cons) 0023 STORY_ A Blow Job For Daddy (Mg,pedo,inc,cons) 0024 STORY_ A Blowjob For Daddy (Mg,pedo,oral,incest) 0025
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