The Pool

Spending a Saturday morning by the pool, with your uncle didn't sound so bad, it wasn't bad. To anyone else it would just be some type of family thing, but not to Claire. It wasn't the case with her, when her uncle was so brutally hot, and sitting on the edge of the pool in just low black swim shorts, glancing at her from time to time.

It was especially bad when with every look that he gave her, her muscles inside her only clenched more to the point that she had started feeling the wetness grow inside her bikini bottom. What really didn't help it was that he was such a flirt too, and he didn't even know it.

The way he had held her hips against his as he had tried showing her how to 'swim'. or how he had slow danced so close to her at Nathan's party the night before, so that her pelvis was right against his and she could swear she almost felt him.

But right then, he was actually behaving, not doing anything in particular to turn her on, but just look so damn hot with the sun kissing his skin. Claire didn't like Angela, and had never met her grandfather, but she mentally thanked both of them for having produced such a good looking son.

Of course she'd had many dreams of him going down on her and doing unholy things to her over and over, but she'd wake up each morning half moaning, half disgusted with herself. But it always came down to wanting to know what he'd feel like inside her, if only just brushing himself against her for a few seconds.

A noise from the pool broke her from her incestuous thoughts and she noticed that peter had jumped in and was making his way across the pool towards her. Every stroke he did, made him flex his arms and she moaned, hoping he couldn't hear her plea for him to just take her right there and then.

'Oh fuck', she mentally thought, and sucked on her bottom lip feeling herself starting to react with in her inner thighs. There was no way she could help it when he was so damn sexy, and his shorts hang so low to his hips that she was sure with just one tug she could pull them down and jump him.

When he started getting out and Claire eyed the water dripping from his face and body, she just couldn't help it. Her hips bucked ever so slightly, and if she hadn't been wet before, she knew she was soaking then, because just looking at Peter was enough to make any girl get turned on.

Claire swallowed and crossed her legs Indian style so that her thighs were wide open and she could at least pretend to know what he'd feel like inside of her. But when he took a seat on her lounge chair, right next to her, she quickly shut them, and bent her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them securely, hoping he wouldn't notice how extremely turned on she was by him.

At doing that, Peter looked over to her and raised one eyebrow up, giving her a quizzical look, "You ok?"

Ok? Fuck no, she was not ok. Her uncle was turning her on in so many way that she wasn't sure she'd be able to hold on to her sanity and not act on it. And it was only getting harder as he inched closer to her with his inquiring looks.

She swallowed and nodded standing up, "I'm actually sort of tired though, so 'm just goi-"

"Sleep? It's one in the afternoon Claire, honestly"

Claire huffed and tried to keep her eyes away from his bottom lip that was smirking and his wet chest that she wanted so badly to run her hands on, but failed miserably. She licked her lips, and let them slowly make their way to his face, only to realize she had just completely given herself away, and he was smiling as if he'd just won something, "What?" he asked cockily, knowing he was tempting her.

But she still had some strength left and shook her head trying to ease her breathing, "Nothing."

That's when he did it, his hand made its way to her hip, her very low hip, and pulled her close to him, so that her body was right against his. It was really, completely innocent, but not to her, not when she was continuously clenching her muscles and wet because of him.

All her body seemed to be turning into jello then and she let herself fall on to his lap when he tugged her down a little.

"Sure you're ok?" he teased her, wrapping one arm around her bare waist, and putting the other on top of her legs, very close to the inside of her thighs.

She closed her eyes and swallowed, because fuck, all she had to do was pin him down onto the lounge chair and rip off his dangerously low swim shorts. But instead a red flag went off in her head and she jumped off him, running her hands through her matted wet hair, "Yeah-I'm -I'm going to go sleep"

Before he had a chance to call after her or register anything, she was already inside the Petrelli mansion, and up the stairs, relieved-in a sense. The throbbing with in her wet folds didn't stop though, and as she locked the door behind her, she knew that she was going to have to do something.

Three hours had gone by, yet the feeling in between her thighs had only grown more intense. She lay on her back with her hands over her stomach wanting nothing more than to let them travel down and explore underneath her bikini bottom. But she wouldn't do that, because that was sick, and she wasn't about to feel herself up thinking about her uncle. Her hot, sexy, mysteriously pale uncle, that made her wet just thinking about his crooked smile, and those bangs that always fell onto his face.

Claire groaned and closed her eyes, letting her hips move unintentionally, just picturing Peter's lips. She knew exactly how he liked to kiss, with the corner of his mouth. He always laid one hand on her hip and took in her lower cheek with his mouth, planting slow kisses that tortured Claire to feel.

She couldn't lie though, Peter was overly affectionate with everyone else too. Claire knew that there wasn't any exception with her, that he didn't mean anything by it, they were just close. Close enough that she could lay on his lap and feel totally comfortable with it, and he with her.

When the family went out for dinner, god forbid that he decide to sit anywhere else that wasn't next to her, because that's just the way they did things. She didn't know if it was because he felt sorry that she didn't have anyone close to her age to talk to or hang out with, because he certainly could have fit in with their conversations. But no, he'd always stay with her and amuse her with what his crooked lip couldn't do.

It killed her but that was just another of many things that she liked about him. He always managed to make her feel better in any situation too.

She remembered a day when she had come home from a particularly bad day at school, but Peter had managed to change that. She had sulked and told him how she hadn't been allowed to be base, but instead a flyer since she was tiny, and he had said it wasn't a big deal. Which truly had upset her even more at first, but he'd managed to calm her down with his slow murmuring and hugged planting kisses on her forehead telling her that she was perfect…niece.

Then he had gone on to tickle her, until her back had started hurting from all the tickling. And then, for a few seconds, he had pulled away and given her a strange look. He'd held his gaze with her, and was panting from all the tickling he'd done. But it wasn't a normal stare, it was as if he'd discovered something, something he hadn't known before. Claire had propped herself up on her knees and frowned at him smiling, and he had shaken his head and laughed back.

Looking back, Claire wondered if for a second, he had liked her, but she knew it wasn't possible. Claire sighed and turned her head wanting so badly to alleviate the throbbing between her thighs. It was so simple, all she had to do was let her fingers slide down and do the work, but she had more pride than that.

But picturing his wet chest and dripping bangs fall in front of his eyes made her moan. There was a creek at her door, and when she opened her eyes he was there watching her intently.

"Are you ok? I thought I heard you crying?"

Moaning was more like it, she thought. Because there was nothing more that she wanted but to pin him down on her bed, and him standing there with still just his trunks, wasn't helping in the least bit. 'At least, he's not wearing a speedo' she mentally told herself, forcing her way up to meet his face, instead of areas that aroused her.

It shouldn't have surprised her that his face did just the same to her, his lips were rose colored and looked so soft, she could imagine them kissing her all over. She slightly shivered, and Peter raised his eyebrow.

"Claire? Are you ok?" he asked again, walking towards her bed and sitting next to her with a completely concerned face. He was too close, she wasn't sure she'd be able to control herself if he got any closer.

She swallowed and backed away a little, nodding her head, even though she knew he wasn't convinced at all. Then he did it, he put his hand on her shoulder and caressed her arm, and god it felt so good. Any touch by him made her tremble, which wasn't good. Claire gave an involuntary whimper, and Peter frowned at her, "What's wrong Claire?"

His other hand rested on her thigh, and blinked her eyes slowly, trying not to buck against his touch. When Claire opened her eyes back up, she saw the frown grow on his face, and moved his hand slight further up, and again she swallowed and clenched her fists.

He knew.

Claire wasn't sure how, but grabbed his hand and led it further inside her thigh, and felt him rub her. She instantly fell back on the bed, clenching the sheets. It was just a simple touch, nothing remotely bad, but it was driving her insane. The need for him to touch her deeply was driving her insane.

She felt his hand go in circles above the material of her bikini, making her whimper with each circular movement he made on her. Her wetness was seeping through her bikini bottom, and she knew he could feel it, and still made no motion to stop.

Somehow, without realizing it, he made his way further into her bed, but kept the slow steady movements he'd been doing to her. All she could do was throw her head back in complete bliss and clench on to the bedsheets, as he caressed her.

But when the door slammed downstairs, they both shook, and realization hit both of them. it was as if the door had brought them out of their trance like state, and claire looked up to peter.

His face had redenned and he was panting slightly. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible and hoarse, "Claire..."