Renpet Erotic Stories

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Renpet Erotic Stories
A niece comes to live with her uncle in the beautiful, enchanting British Virgin Islands.
Originally published August 10, 2012 | Wordcount 20,945
Sweet fresh water slid down my parched throat as I bent over and drank from the spigot, cooling my mouth and moistening my arid throat, bringing blessed relief I'd desperately needed. Bending over further, I let the cold water run over the back of my head and neck. It felt like an ice shower, heaven in this freak heat spell. Straightening, residual water ran down my chest, dampening and darkening my polo shirt, and trickled teasingly down my spine making me shiver. The cool relief felt wonderful.
The smell of brine floated on the air from the sea, seagulls swooped and cried out a melody to the rhythmic cadence of the surf crashing in and hissing out, crashing in and hissing out; a hypnotic and relaxing sound.
For a moment I took a break. Deep aquamarine swells moved with metronomic precision across the bay. My speedboat bobbed from the remains of yesterday's storm, tugging at the mooring lines like a stubborn puppy trying to get loose from its leash to chase after a bird. Unusually white sand twinkled with diamond-like sparks in the sun; heat shimmering, an invisible blanket hovering and distorting inches above it. I felt good. I loved living here, my little corner of heaven.
Bending back to reconstructing the wall brought down by the storm, I slapped mortar and shaped it, placing bricks, tapping and aligning, altogether mindless work that had a particularly rewarding feeling as the waist-high wall rose again. I thought back to last week.
The cell phone call had come as I was deep into writing. Sitting hunched over the laptop wracking my brain from an unusual lack of inspiration, the ceiling fan wheezed as it turned lazily providing no relief from the heat, while sweat slipped between my shoulder blades. I'd been jolted by the ring of an old-fashioned British telephone, my cell jittering across the ash wood desk. I managed to grab it as it made a desperate suicidal dash towards the edge.
"May I speak to Mr. Stevens?" a pleasant voice asked, deep, male, polite, and somewhat officious.
"Are there many Stevens with this phone number?" I inquired. His question seemed quite stupid. I wondered if he realized it.
"Ah. Quite. Sorry," he said with a tinge of embarrassment. "My name is Peters. I am an attorney and executor of your sister-in-law's estate."
There was a pause as if he was waiting for me to talk. I didn't recall him asking a question. "Well done then," I finally said to break the silence. Perhaps it would jump-start him.
It may have confused him, Mr. Peters, attorney at law. After a few moments hesitation he continued. "Yes, well. Hmm. Let me see. Oh, I am executor of your sister-in-law's estate..."
"Was there something specific you needed to talk to me about Mr. Peters?" I interrupted, staring out through the slatted glass window at banana plant leaves and palm fronds rustling in the breeze. Leaning forward I opened the window slats, cool breeze finally accomplishing what the ceiling fan couldn't, air circulation.
"I do apologize. Let me see. Your sister-in-law, Mary Stevens passed away last week. An unfortunate accident I'm afraid. My condolences, sir."
I'd been told of her death in an email from an old acquaintance. It hadn't really meant anything to me. I'd met her once at my brother's funeral eleven years ago and we hadn't hit it off, so I'd had no reason to connect again. All I remember was a pretty brunette with a haughty attitude and not enough grief. Besides, she lived in Nova Scotia. I lived in the Virgin Islands. We didn't share the same social circles.
Mr. Peters continued, "Mary has bequeathed you a rather large sum of money Mr. Stevens."
Well that was a shock. "Why? We didn't really know each other."
"Ah. Yes, well you see... you say you didn't know each other?" he asked in surprise.
"Most unusual. Hmm. Most unusual," he muttered. "Well then," he continued in a brisker tone, "you might be surprised to learn you have a niece. And you might be even more surprised to learn you've been named her guardian."
That woke me up from the stultifying conversation. A niece? Me? Her guardian? "Are you sure?" I asked leaning back from the desk.
"Yes, quite sure Mr. Stevens. Her will was very specific. You are...," I heard papers being shuffled, "Tina's guardian."
As I placed the final brick in the wall, tamping it down with some satisfaction and stretching an aching back, I looked at my watch, three-thirty. I'd need to get moving soon. I had Tina arriving at five sixteen and a twenty-five minute boat ride to get to the airport. More like forty I thought, looking at the swells a final time. Better get a move on.
I pulled my polo shirt off as I entered the combination kitchen/breakfast room/den, the largest room in my house, pausing for a moment to appreciate the recently installed professional grade brushed chrome appliances and ash wood cabinetry. I loved cooking. It provided the immediate gratification writing did not; writing novels was a long process that frustrated me frequently. Pulling open the frosted glass fridge door I grabbed a Perrier and dropped my damp shirt on the speckled gray granite counter, putting one hand on its cool surface, using it as a heat sink to cool my sweaty hand while drinking deeply from the bottle.
I didn't really need the four-and-a-half million dollars from Mary's estate. It felt like a bribe, Mary telling me from the grave, 'Take care of my daughter and I'll pay you'. I didn't need money. Actually, thinking about it, I didn't really need a niece either.
Mr. Peters had advised me Tina was eleven years old, almost twelve, and, after shuffling through and consulting more papers, would be ready to fly out the following week, and no, she did not have any other relatives who could take her in, he added with some distain at my question.
Oh well. I liked kids, so it wasn't that much of an imposition. I'm home all the time and have plenty of space. The income from being published three years ago had surprised me. But I liked writing; it was more like a hobby than a job. Having a niece would be okay. I'm not a hermit and liked company even though I lived with the isolation and beauty of Peter Island. It seemed to add to my creativity, inspire me.
Grabbing my damp shirt, I headed to the shower.
Tina heard the grind of landing gear being deployed as she stared out the window. Crystal clear turquoise and deep blue water sparkled, sandbanks punctuating the sea with bright underwater commas, long white wakes of tiny motor boats looking like brush strokes on the fascinating canvas, and islands, small and large, grew as the plane descended. She heard the thunk of landing gear locking in place and tightened her seat belt, wondering what Uncle Chet would be like.
The Boeing 737 tilted, twisted and bounced as it carved through the hot, turbulent sea level air. Tina watched turquoise water flash by like the rapids of a river, blurred trees slipping by, the runway appearing, and felt the plane hit the runway in the seat of her pants. Her enjoyment of the sights faded as worry stole in. What would living here be like? She was nervous, feeling slight discomfort in her stomach at the uncertainty ahead.
It had been hard enough when Mom died. She hadn't liked living with the neighbours while the legal process sorted itself out. At first, after getting over the shock, she'd been glad to find out she had an uncle. Though why Mom never told her about him she didn't understand.
The initial excitement of hearing he lived in the Virgin Islands, visions of clean beaches, surf and palm trees faded when she realised she'd have to leave her friends behind.
"Welcome to the British Virgin Islands. The local temperature is 105 degrees and time is now five twenty. We hope you enjoyed your flight. Thank you for flying American Airlines."
Tina grabbed her backpack as she stood. A stewardess squeezing by passengers in the narrow aisle stopped in front of her. "Tina, could you please wait here? We have someone coming to escort you," she said with a nice smile.
"Okay." Sitting down, she felt a rush of hot humid tropical air flood the cool cabin as the doors opened. Little butterflies flitted though her stomach. Will Uncle Chet be nice? Will he look like the pictures of dad? She'd never known dad; he'd died before she was born. But the photos she treasured, the ones in her back pack, showed him as a handsome, dark haired man, medium height and medium build with a slim muscular body of a Canadian Armed Forces soldier, which he'd been.
Sometimes she missed him, even though she'd never known him. She often dreamed of what life would have been like if he had been alive. Would Mom have been different? Did she love him? She wondered how Mom might have been if she'd been warmer, not the cool, distant Mom she was, occupied with social life all the time. Sometimes she'd felt like Mom treated her as an after-thought, almost an imposition.
I spotted Tina being led by an official, a burly grandfatherly man, as they exited the customs and baggage area, blue back pack over one shoulder and pulling a green hard-sided suitcase on wheels behind her. She was looking around with apprehension, a slight frown visible between her eyebrows.
I made my way over to them, suddenly feeling nervous. Well, this was it; responsibility for the first time in my life. Looking at Tina I felt sorry for her. It must be hard, I thought, to be alone, lose your mother and be in a strange place meeting a stranger.
Tina looked at Uncle Chet. Immediate relief flooded her. He looked just like dad's photos, familiar from the hours and hours she'd studied them dreaming. His hair was slightly longer and shaggy, but he had the same build and exactly the same smile, broad, friendly, gentle.
"Are you Mr. Stevens?" her grandfatherly escort asked.
"Could I see some identification, sir?"
"Sure. Here." I fished out my driver's license while studying Tina. I thought she looked like most eleven year olds, small, slim and a bit lanky, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a nice simple short-sleeved cream blouse with a pink sweater knotted over her shoulders. She seemed hesitant. Long straight dark brown hair was pushed behind her ears, bangs at the front, pretty I guess. Tina definitely had our family eyes, irises of dark brown with small flecks of gold. She looked nervous.
"Thank you sir." The official handed back my driver's licence before turning and leaving.
I held out my hand. "I'm Chet. Nice to meet you Tina," I said smiling. Her hand was small and damp with nervousness.
"Hi Uncle Chet." She liked his smile. It was gentle and comforting for some reason. She felt the butterflies in her stomach settle a bit.
"So Niece Tina, could you do me a big favour and just call me Chet? If you do, I'll call you Tina. This whole Uncle thing is a bit too new. Besides, I'm too young to be an Uncle." I gave her my best smile.
The smile that grew on her face blew me away. It was as if her whole personality changed. Suddenly Tina's eyes were sparkling, dimples formed and bright white teeth made an appearance. Stunning, quite stunning. Very definitely pretty.
"Sure, if you like... Chet." She felt relief flood through her for some reason. He was warm and friendly, nice. She hadn't realised how worried she'd been that he'd be cold and remote like Mom.
The arrivals lounge was now noisy and filling with people, squeals of happy reunions cutting through the air, people waving to get the attention of relatives, and pale-skinned tourists looking hesitant and lost.
I led Tina through the crowds, holding her hand and pulling her suitcase, dodging around clusters of people to make my way towards the exit. A wall of hot humid air greeted us as we left and I led Tina away from the terminal.
"Where's your car?" Tina asked when Chet led her away from the parking lot. She liked his grin. Somehow he looked like a little kid with a secret.
"Do you like water?" I wondered how she'd react to a boat ride. Didn't everyone like to be on water? Go fast? I did.
"Uh-huh. Why?" Tina felt her blouse stick to her back uncomfortably with the sudden humidity. Even though it was early evening it was hot. She smelled salt water, briny and nice. It almost felt like she was on holiday. The last of her tension melted away as she pulled her sweater off her shoulders.
"We're going by boat," I said, grinning. I loved my Fountain 35 Lightning, thirty-five feet of pure raw power. It was the only toy I owned and I could never get enough of it. It was new, bought seven months ago, and I still had that little boy glee every time I heard the twin powerplants fire up with a deep rumble. Feeling the boat slam into the swells as my eyes watered from the wind was one of my joys. Even the g-force of tight turns tickled me, so much so I'd carve esses through the sea just for fun.
"Here we are," I said leading Tina to the dock. "Hey Julius! All gassed up?" I yelled to the attendant.
Tina grinned. Look at that! Big boat, long, sleek, fire engine red, white well-padded seats. Looks like fun!
Tina's laughter was heart-warming when the growl of the twin powerplants changed into a roar, g-force from the sudden acceleration shoving us back into the seats, the prow rising majestically and thumping down onto the sea as it planed out. Like a greyhound let loose, the Fountain surged, exploding with speed, water spraying up in a magical twinkling curtain of diamonds, cooling as they dampened my face. I grinned. Fantastic.
We left a long curving wake in the turquoise sea behind us as I headed out of Trellis Bay, heading West with throttles three quarters open, the boat rising and thumping down, muscling through the swells with brute force.
"Fun!" Tina yelled, thrilled with the power and speed of the boat. She'd never experienced anything like it! Water and wind cooled her as she grinned, watching the Caribbean Sea rush by in a blur of turquoise. It was like being on an amusement park ride!
Tina's pure enjoyment was wonderful to watch, dark hair streaming out and fluttering in the wind. She bounced in her seat as we crashed through the late afternoon swells. Her grin was stunning. I thought I might like having her around. I felt a connection to her and, from the brief exposure to her so far, liked the personality that was appearing. Perhaps companionship would be nice for a change.
Tina woke slowly. Bright sun streamed through the window and sounds of Chet in the kitchen filtered through her door. She knew he was making coffee and some sort of surprise for breakfast.
The last two months had been eye-opening. She felt a tug of shame as she thought about how happy she was; so much happier than she'd been at home with Mom. Chet was amazing. Unlike Mom, he wanted to spend time with her and he liked her. She grinned as she thought about what a little boy he was. He seemed to get pleasure from the dumbest things and constantly tried to bug her.
Stretching, she yawned before pulling the cool sheets aside and slipping out of bed, heading to the en suite bathroom. Like everything else in the house it was tasteful. Large bathtub, separate glass shower with four gleaming chrome shower heads that sprayed water from above and the sides, which she hadn't quite figured out how to work, white tiled floor cool on her feet, rose-pink marble counters, matching toilet and bidet, and a big, big mirror behind the sink.
She giggled, almost choking herself as she brushed her teeth, remembering how Chet had grinned in pure enjoyment when she'd tried to drink her orange juice a couple of days ago. Not knowing it had a hidden opening, OJ had poured down her front as she tipped it to her lips. "Asshole" she'd said laughing as she went to change, Chet's laughter chasing her.
She was beginning to cotton on when he had something up his sleeve. His look of complete innocence couldn't hide the twinkle of gold specks in his dark brown irises. He had a personality that made her so comfortable. She was completely at ease around him. He made no demands, cared a lot, paid attention to what she talked about and even seemed interested. Chet was a gentle guy, too. She couldn't find one speck of selfishness in him. Yeah, the last two months had been the best, she thought.
"Hey Tina! Crapps for breakfast!" I said as she entered the kitchen.
"Crépes, Chet, not crapps," she said grinning, heading for the cupboard for plates to set the table. "What kind?"
"Sea food. Delicate shrimp lightly sautéed with lumps of fresh lobster in a creamy lemon garlic reduction."
"Yeah, okay. So sue me. I forgot to shop. Actually, you forgot to remind me to shop," I claimed. Tina's grin was amazing. It brightened up my day. I watched her set the kitchen table with competence.
Since she'd arrived I found myself trying to find ways to make her grin. It lit up something inside me every time she did. She was such a pleasure to have around. Sometimes I wondered if she ever got depressed or sad. If she did, I'd never seen it. It hadn't taken long for me to be completely relaxed around her, she made it so easy. Tina was bright and inquisitive and, even more amazing, she seemed to have the same interests I did. She even had the same sense of humour!
"Shopping today?" she asked as she took a bite of 'crapps'. Hmm. Fish for breakfast wasn't bad, but the orange juice didn't go with it.
"Yup. If we don't it'll be crapps for lunch and crapps for dinner."
"Can we go to Tortola to shop?" Another ride in the boat would be fun. Chet always grinned so much when he was in the boat. It made him so boyishly handsome.
"Sure. Anything special you need there?" I liked the idea of a boat ride. "Hey, how about we pick up something for lunch, too. We'll go to Mingo Cay to eat. There's this incredible beach that's absolutely deserted."
"Okay. Um... I need some clothes too, if that's okay," Tina said. She needed some underwear and stuff.
Laying on the deserted beach, warm sun adding to the bronze her skin had turned over the past couple of months, soft sand conforming to her body underneath, Tina smiled, relaxed as Chet raced through the water in a strong smooth crawl, almost metronomic in its precision. 'Bet I can swim across to Grass Cay and back in less than ten minutes' he claimed with a grin. It was maybe a hundred metres away for god sake! Five minutes should be more than enough even for her!
She raised her head with a hand over her brow to shade her eyes, watching him rise from the sea, water cascading down his slim physique, sunlight dancing and winking on his body.
"Twelve and a half," she yelled out, grinning and sitting up to watch him as he approached.
"Really? It felt much faster than that." It did. Maybe I needed to exercise more. Ah, fooled again. "You almost had me if you hadn't giggled," I told her, smiling. "Besides, you couldn't even make it half way across without those inflatable arm bands to keep you afloat." I flopped down on my front next to her, head resting on my arms to look at her.
"Asshole." What a twit. Shopping had been fun. He'd surprised her when he'd handed her money and told her to buy her stuff while he went grocery shopping. She'd never been clothes shopping alone. A small blush rose.
I watched Tina jump up and run into the water, diving into the sea gracefully and swim with strong steady strokes. She was like an otter, slipping through the water, arms moving as her shoulders rolled, legs kicking strongly propelling herself across the narrows between the cays.
I lay naked on my back in bed, the thump and hiss of surf drifting through my open window on the night breeze. Holding my erection unashamedly, stroking it slowly, I pictured Tina on the beach. I couldn't help it, my reaction had been so, so strong. She'd bought a light blue bikini and I'd been surprised to see small mounds on h
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