She’s doing it again – the flirting. It makes me uncomfortable, but also gives me that sweet thrill of the taboo. Part of me doesn’t want her to stop, especially my cock, which has thickened and grown and is now pressed in down there in such a way I can’t focus on much else.
It’s the look on her face and the tone of her voice.
The atmosphere crackles between us.
We’re on the Kettler furniture out on the patio, with the afternoon sun beginning to tame. She’s showered and changed into a light cotton dress, which is a relief for me because I couldn’t stop looking at her body when she was in the bikini.
She’s up in her mid-fifties, but claims to be forty, which is believable. Her pampered lifestyle is so far removed from her humble beginnings she’s got the time and the money to look after herself. My aunt is one of those extremely attractive mature ladies who only seem to get sexier as they get older. If she’s had any work done, then it’s money well spent, because I can’t spot any signs of nips and tucks – and I’ve had plenty of opportunity to examine my aunt’s ripe, voluptuous figure for a goodly part of the day.
The corner of her mouth twitches when Barbara eyes me over the rim of the glass. I get the sense she’s messing me with, just having some fun in her own twisted way, and I want to confront her head-on, but I daren’t. I might be three beers in but don’t have enough of the brave-juice inside me to actually say what it is I want to say.
“God,” she breathes, stretching her legs while admiring her colour. “What a beautiful day. My tan’s coming on nicely. Thanks for letting me stay.”
I’m trying not to gawp at her thighs as the hem draws up higher. The pressure inside my shorts is already approaching painful levels, and looking at her legs will only make everything worse. So I gulp at my beer and awkwardly climb to my feet, doing my best to mask my predicament as I go.
I’m already turning away as I say, “More wine, Aunt Barbara?” But the look on her face tells me she’s noticed
My aunt drawls out a distracted, “Mmm? What? Wine? Oh, yes please, Adam,” and my cheeks warm as I scurry away.
In the kitchen I take stock, wondering why I invited her to stay in the first place. She’s loaded, she could have found somewhere else to hide during this latest divorce.
I take my time uncorking the bottle and pouring a fresh glass. I need a little time to allow the hard-on to deflate and my burning cheeks to cool down. Finally, after leaving it for at least five full minutes, I take a deep breath, pick up her wine and my beer, and dare to venture outside.
She’s on the single-seat chair with her feet tucked beneath her when I make a reluctant appearance. “Thanks, Adam,” she purrs, leaning to take the glass out of my hand, and whether by design or by accident her dress gapes at the neck, the deep crease of her cleavage drawing my eyes.
My aunt sips and then says outright, “Do I make you uncomfortable, Adam?”
Which is my opportunity. I could suck it up and be brave. I could be a man and confront the issues face-on, but, after myriad thoughts have tumbled about in my head, I opt for a decidedly weak, “No, not exactly.” Then I shrug and add, “Maybe sometimes … Just a bit.”
I can’t look her in the eye when she uncurls from the mermaid pose and places the glass on the low table. And suddenly I’m not perving at her tits any more. I know she’s caught me looking and I feel my face burning again.
“Oh, come on, Adam,” she sighs.
I hear the exasperation, like she can’t be bothered playing games any more while I avoid her eyes by frowning at the swimming pool. I can feel her stare lasering into me, then see the movement from the corner of my eye, and when I swivel my face towards her I see Aunt Barbara shaking her head, a moue pursing her lips before she says, “We’re both adults here. You and I both know what’s been passing between us.”
She lets me dangle while gazing intently into my face, the silence stretching along with my nerves. It’s been almost a week in getting to this point, and I’ve had just about all I can stand, but, as I stand here and try to figure out an appropriate response I’ve also got this little voice in my head whispering about how I sort of hoped things would come to a head during her visit.
Deep down I want this to happen.
“And,” I hear my aunt saying, her voice sounding like it’s coming at me down a very long tunnel, “while I understand you might be reluctant to put a voice on it, I’m quite enjoying the way things are between us.”
I have to gulp down on what feels like a beach ball lodged in my throat while simultaneously experiencing a sneaky slide of the illicit deep in my core. The delicious shiver ripples along in that vague, indefinable place where dark urges come from, the sexual arousal I feel for my aunt a hot burst of desire which drags at my insides.
“Aunt Barbara,” I croak, her name coming out clotted with need. “I don’t … You shouldn’t…”
But I want her to. I want my aunt to say it all out loud. Just like I also want to get her out of that dress and bury my face between her considerable breasts. Having her cavorting around the periphery of the pool in her bikini for most of the afternoon has wired my libido. I’m so worked up I’m going to have to crank at my cock ‘til it spits very soon. It’s masturbate wildly or I’m going to lunge for my mother’s sister. I’m getting close to the point where, in my mind’s eye, I can see myself shoving my shorts to my knees and cranking my dick right in front of my aunt.
And the thing is, I get the impression she might just sit there and smile while I do it. Which is a completely insane notion, but it seems to me we’ve been heading to this showdown for a few years. Even before the band hit it big and I became a household name – as far as a certain demographic is concerned – my aunt has been slightly over the top in the things she says and the way she says them to me.
I’m more than a little confused and aroused while Barbara holds me captive with her eyes and her smirk.
“What shouldn’t I do?” asks my aunt as she stands and sips from her glass. She looks at me, apparently waiting for some kind of response, head tilted to one side, eyes going wide.
There’s nothing from me except for a gulp, the seconds stretching while my cock reminds me it’s there, the erection resurrected because of the things I can see us doing together but which I’m too afraid to initiate.
What if I’ve got it all wrong? What if it’s only my hyped up sexual need trying to convince me my aunt would be up for a tumble? There are made-up stories about me in the newspapers often enough as it is; if it ever got out I made some kind of move on my own aunt…?
Just thinking about the aftermath of such a huge error of judgement sends me cold, and while it might be a hot afternoon, I actually shiver in terror.
Then it seems like I’ve stretched my aunt’s patience to the limit because Barbara tuts and rolls her eyes before saying, “I’m disappointed, Adam. Don’t you trust me?” She gulps the rest of her wine in three or four swallows, looks towards me again, and then pulls a face. “You think about it,” says Barbara, leaving me out on the patio.
My first inclination is to follow my aunt into the house. And I take two or three steps towards the open French doors before realising I don’t have a clue what I’d say. So I stand for a few seconds while it all bounces around in my head. It takes a little time, but I eventually decide I’ll be better off sitting down and really thinking things through instead of rushing in to confront her.
So I do. I settle down on the two-seater sofa to sip at the beer while attempting to make sense of this thing with my aunt.
When I do eventually go inside it’s one of those balmy summer evenings just made for a pub beer garden. I can imagine people sitting outdoors enjoying themselves without a care in the world, and I’m envious that they can do so. What a reward after a day spent at work: sunshine and laughter and a cold drink or two, with the promise of a sunny weekend ahead. Not that I’d know much about the nine-to-five gig, my hours are much more haphazard. Tours, studio-time and PR meetings are more my forte, with dodging the paparazzi in there as well. And there’s no way I could enjoy a quiet pint under a sunshade in the back garden of a pub by a river. It would be mayhem in under a minute.
I pass through the kitchen, placing the empty bottle on the counter with the others before considering another out of the fridge. I’ve got the buzz and think one more won’t hurt. So I pop the top off a bottle and go in search of my aunt.
Barbara’s face turns towards me as I enter the living room, which is probably my favourite room in the house: contemporary minimalist, yet warm and inviting. I’ve spent a lot of money putting the house together, blown a fortune on designers and shoppers who have made their suggestions and then been set loose with my approval and money. My aunt doesn’t say a word when I enter, just looks at me, her inscrutable demeanour making me gulp. I pause, hesitant and unsure about what to do and what to say. There’s so much which needs to be said, but, again, I’m afraid to start anything in case it’s all one huge misreading of signals.
It seems to go for quite some time, this me gawking at my Aunt Barbara while she just sits there with a face carved out of stone.
But it’s me who breaks first when the silence grows deafening.
I eventually blurt, “Aunt Barbara, what’s going on?” and she lets me suffer some more, prolonging my agony by staying perfectly still, her lips together, eyes fixed on my face.
Then she blinks two or three times, face softening as she pats the seat next to her with the flat of one palm. “Sit down,” Barbara invites with a smile. “Let’s talk.”
I take a tentative seat on a sofa the size of a barge. We’re three feet apart, with her in one corner while I’m wedged up against the opposite arm, a no-mans-land of chocolate-brown leather between us.
“What is it you want?” I ask on a whine. I can’t take much more, just being close to her has brought my cock to a raging tumescence.
“Well, Adam, I think you could have figured it out for yourself by now.”
I’m in turmoil. I’m sure I know what she’s talking about, but can’t bring myself to say it out loud. How can I? She’s my mother’s sister, for crying out loud.
I swallow the beach ball again, lust dragging at my vitals as I croak a faltering, “I … I-uh-think so.”
Barbara’s eyes go wide as she leans in towards me and murmurs, “And how do you feel?”
And isn’t that just the question to ask!
One I’ll have difficulty answering, too.
I blink and gawp at my aunt, then suck in a huge draught of air while shrugging and saying, “Oh God, Aunt Barbara, I don’t know what to say.”
“You could put it into a song,” quips my aunt with a grin. But then she turns serious again and continues by asking, “Are you shocked, Adam? Are you disgusted?”
Her last question goes some way to convincing me I’m wrong in reading the signs, and while I’m still wholly sure, I say, “No, Aunt Barbara, I’m not disgusted.”
To which she replies, “Then what is it you feel?”
“I don’t know, really. It’s awkward talking this way. I mean, come on, you’re my aunt. If we … If you…” I’m floundering, out of my depth, going under, but my aunt throws me a life-line.
“Oh, I know that,” she says, chuckling. Barbara offers me a rueful grin and goes on with, “You think I haven’t analysed this to death this past week? I understand how massive this is … And I’m also aware of the dangers. You’re so well known, Adam. If anything went on between us and word got out it would cause ructions. I can’t imagine the scale of the scandal … And the family…?” She pauses and studies my face, then goes on to say, “Not that I’m trying to say we shouldn’t do anything. If you’re feeling anything like I am you’ll know something has … developed between us. We can either submit to it or keep well away from each other. In my mind it’s as simple as that.
“The question I have for you now, Adam – given those choices – is what do you want to do?”
My snarling libido takes over. “I-uh-I don’t want to have to keep away from you, Aunt Barbara,” I stammer.
She nods slowly, then sighs. “Me neither,” my aunt whispers.
I realise she’s somehow shifted across the divide because her hand goes onto my leg, to the bare skin of my thigh, way up high, her touch sending a jolt through me.
My heart leaps around in the cage of my ribs; it’s difficult to breathe and suddenly very hot in the room. I feel the wave of reckless need wash over me as I look down at her fingers, across to her precipitous cleavage, and then up into her face.
Barbara’s voice is low and narcotic when she asks, “You know what we’re going to do, don’t you? You know what it’s called?”
I swallow the beach ball again, nodding while gazing into her eyes. “I know,” I manage to say, my voice nothing more than a hoarse rasp.
“It’s incest,” she tells me, putting the word out there and making it real. “And I know I must be mad for wanting to go so far with you, I mean, it’s about as bad as a person can be – don’t you think? But I’ve been over it so many times in my head I can’t think anymore. It’s simple really,” she shrugs, “it’s just sex with someone I love. Okay, yes, you’re my sister’s son, my nephew, my family, and the world would condemn us. But nobody has to find out. Nobody ever has to know.”
Her hand has gone higher as she’s said it. My aunt’s fingers are on the soft flesh of my inner thigh. Another inch or so and she’ll be right inside the leg of my shorts and on top of my cock.
“Are you willing to go that far with me, Adam?” she murmurs. “Are you capable of committing the sin?”
It’s peaceful out on the patio. Water tinkles as the pool pumps do whatever it is that they do, their mechanical regurgitations as soothing as any wind-chime. It’s just past the gloaming and the mood-lights have come on, their sensor set to notice the fading light as the day draws to a close.
Not that I’m in much of a mind to notice the sounds or soak up the mood. I’m too anxious and edgy to focus on much of anything for long. The waiting is agony, a razor-edge of anticipation keener than anything I’ve ever experienced. Stage fright is nothing compared to the anguish I’m suffering.
A sound from the kitchen brings my head up. I hear the tap-tap-tap of high heels pecking at the tiles a few seconds before I hear my aunt’s voice. “Can you turn those lights down?” she calls out.
My throat is tight, constricted with the surge of emotion and anxiety, so my reply comes out as not much more than a rusty, “There’s a dimmer switch just by the doors.”
The overheads fade to nothing and leave the pool and decking now suffused with the soft rosy glow from the uplighters set around the periphery of the patio, and the gentle ambience is apparently to my aunt’s satisfaction because, at last, she chooses to make her appearance.
“I don’t want to rush this,” she’d said once our incestuous intent was out in the open. “This is too big a deal for us to just get right down to it here.” My aunt had pulled her hand from my leg and then risen to her feet. “Give me half-an-hour,” she’d said, more than an hour ago.
The peck of her heels continues when my aunt steps onto the patio. “Will I do?” she asks me, pausing while framed in the French doors.
It’s the first sign I’ve seen she’s as nervous as I am. So far Aunt Barbara has been confident and cool, composed as she laid it on heavy with the flirting, but she’s looking at me with this expression on her face like she’s scared about something.
I think she looks absolutely fantastic. My aunt is gorgeous, stunning in fact, but I can’t get the words past my teeth and I’m boggling at her while trying to believe it’s all really going on. She’s wearing this satiny kimono dressing gown affair, which, although covers her from throat to the soles of her shoes, still manages to hint at the very feminine shape of her body beneath. Barbara has arranged her ash-blonde hair in a seemingly careless arrangement on top of her head, the wispy tendrils at her temples framing her subtly made-up face while Pearl drop earrings dangle from each of her lobes, the jewellery trembling like strands of jizm hanging from a porn star’s chin whenever my aunt moves.
My aunt must interpret my continuing silence as a potential rejection, because she chews on her lower lip for a moment before saying, “Adam, say something, please.”
Of course it isn’t any such thing. I’m not considering a rejection at all. I want to say something to reassure Barbara, to let her know I’m still aching for intimacy with her. But it’s difficult to bring the words up from within while I’m still trying to process the reality.
Finally I manage a croaky, “You’re beautiful.”
“Do you honestly mean it?” she breathes, her voice so quiet I can only just make out the words over the gurgling of the pool water. “You must know some extraordinarily lovely young women. I’m almost thirty years older than you.” Barbara’s expression shifts towards the anxious as she voices these self-doubts. “Oh God,” she mutters, “what the hell am I thinking…?”
I’m up on my feet when it dawns my aunt might be on the verge of bolting indoors. “I mean it, Aunt Barbara,” I say. “You’re lovely.”
And it’s like coaxing a stray dog. My aunt looks at me with a degree of suspicion, as though examining me for any signs of a lie. “Honestly?” she asks. “You’re not just saying it?”
I’m confused by her attitude. She was happy enough to strut around in her bikini and tease me with her tits, but here she is decently covered up and she’s suddenly all weird.
“I mean it,” I say in reply, then add a concerned, “What’s wrong Aunt Barbara?”
Still framed by the doorway, my aunt replies with, “Like I said, Adam, I’m so much older than you. I’m not as … firm as I once was. You know,” she says, pulling a face. “And I’ve read things about you in those gossip magazines. They say you’ve been seen with some stunning young girls. I’m sorry,” she shrugs, “I’m not as confident as I was when it wasn’t so serious between us. It was a laugh before, but now we’re here … Like this…”
Barbara pauses while blinking and chewing her lip, then finishes with, “I’m scared all of a sudden.”
“You don’t need to be scared.”
She looks at me, time stretching before she starts moving towards me. Excitement surges when, after sucking in a lungful of air, my aunt’s heels tap at the patio. I gaze at her as she approaches, the moment surreal. I think, Is this really my mother’s sister? Are we actually considering a sexual liaison?
Aunt Barbara arrives, her eyes level with mine because of the shoes. “I’ve also read you leave the girls happy,” she breathes. “They say you’re quite a swordsman…” her eyes flick to the front of my shorts “…and that you’ve got a big cock.” When her attention come back up to my face, Barbara smirks. “I saw the bulge down there earlier on. I don’t think they were lying.”
I gasp and swallow heavily when her palm presses against the hard ridge I’m sporting inside my shorts now she’s so close.
“Will you show me?” my aunt asks, head canted sideways.
It’s all a bit vague as I go for the shorts. I’m aware of what’s going on, but it’s as though I’ve been drugged. I pull them down to my thighs, and hear Barbara gasp.
“Oh my, yes,” she says with an appreciative chuckle. “Dear God, my beautiful nephew. If I’d known about this divine cock I’d have fucked you this afternoon.”
Hearing my aunt speaking in such a crudely candid way is a bit of a shock, which is ridiculous when I consider what’s going on between us, what’s about to happen.
“Cuh-can I touch it?” she stammers, throat working as she stares at the inflamed length.
I whine, “Oh shit,” which my aunt takes as an affirmative.
“It’s thick,” she murmurs when her fingers close around my girth. “Are we crazy for doing this, Adam?”
All I can focus on in that moment is that I’m crazy with need and desperate to come. I groan and fuck into my aunt’s fist, my hands going to the front of her gown.
“My tits?” Barbara gasps as her gaze comes back up to my face. “Is that what you want?”
I gulp and gasp out a needy, “Everything, Aunt Barbara. I want all of you.”
Her response matches my enthusiasm when she jacks at my cock and growls, “I want all of this thing inside me. Oh God, oh fuck,” whines my aunt while I squeeze her breasts through the kimono. “Is this actually going to happen between us?”
It’s full dark on a warm summer night when I tear at her clothing. My aunt’s breasts spill forth, jiggling and swaying while her kimono stays loosely belted at the waist.
Barbara lets go of my dick and steps back a couple of paces. “Get out of those shorts,” she instructs me. “I want you naked.” Then she loosens the robe and lets it slip from her shoulders, and what I see has me gaping: my beautiful Aunt Barbara in heels and stockings, totally magnificent and proud.
“You like me, don’t you,” she says while pointing at the obvious. My aunt smirks and nods, pouting while eyeing my length, sparks of devilment flashing when she grins into my face. “God, Adam,” she sighs. “Are you as excited as I am? I’m so bloody horny, babe…”
I crank at my dick and try to soak all of her up through my eyes. My need is so desperate I can’t help but tug at myself, gaze raking all over her body. “I mean it,” I groan. “You’re so lovely, Aunt Barbara. So fit…”
My aunt lets out a burst of ebullient laughter while moving in close. “You’re so kind to say so,” she says while critically examining the front of her body, chin on her chest. “I thought I’d wear the hold-ups and shoes.” Her eyes come back up and she studies my face. “Men seem to like me dressed up this way.” A wry chuckle follows with a shake of her head when Aunt Barbara finishes with, “All of my husbands were quite keen!”
I’m caught up in the madness of lust, only vaguely aware of the scale of the sin we’re about to commit. A reckless insanity descends, a cloak of yearning so deep and irresistible I’d still have to experience her pussy tight around my cock even if the world was watching us at it. The potential consequences mean nothing. I’m too hot for that body to consider anything else.
“Your husband was an idiot,” I grunt, meaning the one she has now – the soon-to-be-ex number four.
Barbara nods but responds with, “I don’t want to think about any of that now. I’m here, with you, and that’s what I want.” Then she looks at my hand and says, “You’ll pull that off if you’re not careful.” She takes control of my hard-on, stroking my length as she squeezes one of her breasts. My aunt mewls and murmurs about loving me while I maul at her tits, desire bringing a low growl from my throat. “We’re really going to do this, aren’t we,” she whines, robustly cranking my dick. “Oh God, Adam, it’s really going to happen, isn’t it?”
Then I’m grunting and fucking her hand, the first burst rushing from the eye of my cock. Barbara yelps as the hot stuff jets from me, heavy drops of my cum spattering onto the flooring, a stray splash catching my aunt across her thigh while the outflow continues, groans coming out of me as Barbara squeals in apparent delight.
“That’s it, babe,” whispers my aunt. “Let it all go.” She works at me for a little while longer, milking my cock before adding, “God, just look at the mess.” Then she smiles into my face as the deluge subsides, and I swear this is where I start loving my aunt.
Oh, I love her already, of course, but this isn’t the dutiful love expected from a nephew towards his aunt. What I feel in the moment is a romantic, sexually-heated emotion which swells in my chest and prompts me to pull her towards me.
My affection for Barbara balloons into the first stages of real love when we kiss for the first time, when we’re joined as lovers with our tongues sliding and writhing and I gasp the last of my climax into her mouth.
“I want this inside me,” murmurs my aunt, giving my shaft a squeeze. “I want to feel us together, Adam, skin-on-skin, no horrible condoms.”
And in the seconds before we kiss once again, I think about bare-backing my aunt, about squirting my seed into her body, desire burning within me, my yearning barely diminished.
I get my aunt there with my fingers and tongue. I’ve got her scrunched up on the sofa, bent double while I force her knees back to her shoulders, the heels of her shoes hooked in the webs of my hands between my fingers and thumbs. Aunt Barbara squeals at me to lick her, then tilts her pelvis so I can get at her opening. She babbles and groans while rolling her eyes and slapping four fingers down against her vulva, the scarlet flesh hot and swollen and glistening.
“My clit,” squeaks my aunt, splaying labia tacky with need. “Suck it, Adam,” she groans, eyes glazing over. “Do it to me, baby.” Barbara chews on her lip while her eyes implore me to do as she asks. She’s squirming around and rubbing her bean, making all kinds of bestial sounds while I gawk at her sex, a sight I never imagined I’d see, let alone taste.
It’s a surreal time out on the patio, with the familiar all twisted and strange. It’s my aunt’s voice I can hear, but the words are like nothing she’s uttered in my presence before, and it’s the same when I look at her face. Barbara’s features are contorted into a mask of agonised delight, her mouth hanging open while she gazes at me with a feral expression I’ve seen on some of the women I’ve known – which, again, I never thought I’d witness on her.
“Lick me,” snarls Barbara as she fucks two fingers into her opening. “My cunt,” she whines, hips working hard, her free hand mauling a breast. “Get at me, you bastard.”
I’m stunned by the obscenities and surprised at the vehemence with which they’re delivered. This is my Aunt Barbara laid there spitting the epithets at me, my mother’s sister bent like a pretzel, her pussy squelching around her own fingers.
It’s the second I truly recognise just what it is we’re doing. This is incest, the ultimate familial taboo. If I taste my aunt’s sex the next step will be the pair of us fucking. And once we’ve done it, we can never go back.
I pause and look at her face, her eyes locking on mine as she seems to sense the epiphany. Barbara’s breasts shiver and roll while she gazes at me and sucks at the air, her fingers still buried up to the knuckle inside her.
“Do you want this?” I ask, meaning more than just the physical act.
“Yes please, Adam,” Barbara replies, throat working. “I do.”
Then she groans low and long when I ease her fingers from her body and lean in to take the first lick at her pussy.
“Not here,” gasps my aunt as the juddering tapers. “I want our first time to be memorable, something to look back on with pleasure.”
I think I can look back on fucking my aunt by the pool quite happily, so I crank at my dick and ignore what she’s said.
“No, Adam – please,” she says, squirming away while placing a hand over her sex to stop me from simply having my way. “Let’s go indoors. I want to make love.”
And I want to fuck into her body. I’m not really interested in anything tender and soft. The urge is upon me, carnal desire so desperately urgent I don’t care if we’re on the central reservation of the M25 motorway.
“Aunt Barbara,” I growl, jacking my length while rising up to aim the head at her body. “Just let me put it in.”
There’s a bit of a tussle. I’m keen to get at her but she’s adamant it isn’t going to be next to the pool.
“Adam, no,” Barbara eventually gasps while rolling to safety. “Look at me, babe,” she continues, poised ready to flee if I lunge, although how far she’d get in those shoes is debatable. “It’ll be so much sweeter in comfort,” my aunt coos, her tone soft and lulling. “We can kiss while we love. You can touch me all over … I’ll suck your cock, too.
“We can do all of it, darling,” she finishes on a sigh.
My aunt turns and hip-sways away, her shoes pecking the floor while I stare enraptured at the feminine roll of her buttocks. I’m hypnotised by the shape of her, and I’m just stood there gawping when Barbara pauses and throws a look back at me over one shoulder. “Which bedroom?” she purrs.
To which I somehow find the wherewithal to croak, “Mine.”
Then I’m following her swinging rump through the long hallway.
I’m staring at her legs as my aunt climbs the stairs.
She leads me along the corridor and into my bedroom, the cheeks of her arse jiggling while the swish of her stockings reaches my ears.
“Does it bother you that this is so wrong?” asks Aunt Barbara while wrapping her arms round my neck.
My hands go to her waist as we kiss, her fist slowly caressing my cock. I reply with the truth as I see it when we eventually part, my response not much more than a groan. “That makes it better,” I tell her, gulping when lust surges inside me. “Us being related … It’s so dirty, Aunt Barbara. And I know we shouldn’t really be this way together, but I don’t care. You’re so lovely…” Then we’re kissing again. Which, for me at least, feels like such a more serious transgression than fucking is going to be. Her tongue in my mouth is so intimate, an expression of love in my case.
My aunt goes to the bed and perches her rear on the foot after kicking off her shoes. “I’ll dress up for you again,” she tells me while peeling the stockings from her legs. “Another time. But now I need to be naked.” Barbara stands up and looks at me, expression enquiring, head tilting towards her shoulder as she asks, “Do you really not mind I’m so much older than you? My body–”
“Is so fucking sweet, Aunt Barbara,” I say, interrupting her slide into another crisis of confidence. “I fancy the arse off you. You’re absolutely gorgeous.”
And then I move in to prove it.
People will usually do anything for me. Those employed by my manager to take care of my every whim, that is. Some of the fans would as well, given the opportunity. In fact the fans might be as accommodating as my Aunt Barbara and more, but I don’t love them like her.
She comes out onto the deck with a cold beer. “Here,” she says, handing it over.
I take the bottle and watch her settle on the sun-lounger, the sight of her sending a ripple of arousal through me again.
“Isn’t it lovely out here,” breathes my aunt, telling rather than asking.
Without comment on the weather, which is absolutely glorious and perfect for lazing around next to the swimming pool, I lever myself out of my own lounger and squat alongside hers.
Barbara’s face swivels towards me, her huge sunglasses half-covering her face. “What is it?” she asks, smirking at me.
“You’re naked,” I say.
She says, “I’m very naked,” her grin getting wider. My aunt sighs and then giggles when I slide a palm over her skin. I start at her brisket, moving up to gently caress each breast in turn before sliding south. “Again?” she groans, thighs going wide. “I’m a bit tender down there.”
I split the folds with the tip of one finger while leaning in to kiss Barbara’s mouth. Despite being sore her response is to ease her hips up off the bed. Barbara grabs at my wrist to hold my hand steady, rubbing her pussy over the expeditionary digit.
She gasps and whines, “Are you going to fuck me again?”
“I want to,” I say, the satiny texture of her skin causing a ripple of desire through my core.
Barbara turns serious and asks, “Where are we going with this?”
I know she’s really talking about us. My aunt is asking about our new and very exciting relationship, but I make light of it by replying, “I thought we might do it out here. It’s a beautiful day. But if you want to go inside…”
She pushes my hand away, laughing to take the sting out of the gesture. “Us,” she says. “Me and you. Is this going to be a regular thing between us or just a snapshot of time? When I leave, Adam – is it over?”
“I’ve been thinking,” I say, smoothing her hair away from her forehead. “You could always hide out here until you get the divorce settled. Then, if you wanted to…”
And I’m nervous all of a sudden. This is huge. What I’m about to suggest is a commitment which will affect both of our lives.
“What?” urges my aunt as she rolls onto her side. She shoves the sunglasses up like an Alice band, weight on one hip and an elbow. “What were you going to say?”
The sight of her breasts rolling and swaying stiffens my resolve as well as my cock. I gulp down on that now familiar beach ball lodged in my throat, then say, “Well, you could sort of move in. Don’t worry about the papers and all that,” I add in a rush. “We can make up some shit to tell them. The important thing is you can stay here. And when we’re together … Well, you know…”
Barbara boggles at me. Her jaw actually drops, eyes like full moons. “Move in with you/” she eventually murmurs.
“We can talk about it more later.” I’m sliding my hand over her body again, going for her clit. “I know you’ll come up with hundreds of reasons why it’s a bad idea,” I continue. “And I don’t have a clue if it’ll work or not. But I’d love to do this with you whenever…” I lean in to suck on one nipple the size of a pebble. “I’d love to be able to fuck you all night, every night.” Then I’m kissing her, my tongue in her mouth as passion ignites.
Barbara returns the kiss, moaning and mewling while I squeeze her breasts and ease her onto her back. Her legs go wide and I get my face down there between them, slurping her pussy while jacking my cock. I go at her for a few minutes, winding her up so she’s squirming and exhorting me on with potty-mouthed fervour, then I climb up in front of her and offer my cock to her tits. Barbara cottons on quickly, enveloping me with that spongy-soft flesh, squeezing her breasts round my shaft and inviting me to fuck them.
“Don’t come on my face,” my aunt smirks, her chest glistening with pre-cum. She grins up at me with her palms pressed against the outer flanks, tips of her forefingers teasing her nipples.
“I never knew you’d be so dirty,” I mumble while looking at my aunt’s face, then add, “I can’t get enough of you,” when it hits me afresh just whose breasts I’m actually fucking.
Barbara eases away from me, sitting upright so she can work my cock with her fist. She examines me close up, then grins once again, winking before licking the dome.
“I’ll tell you a little secret of mine,” Barbara says before swirling her tongue round my knob-end. “I’ve masturbated and thought about fucking you in the past,” she informs me, her hand working hard. “It was always a hot little fantasy to guarantee me a quick orgasm. I never really thought about doing it for real … Not until you invited me to stay.” My aunt winks at me again, a lascivious eyelid dropping onto her cheek as she ends by saying, “But I got more and more carried away with our flirting.”
Barbara breaks off from the confession to purse her lips over the big purple head. She massages me down at my root, her free hand working away down between her legs.
I groan and whine and tell her how fucking gorgeous it is to see her sucking my dick.
She pulls back and slaps her cheek with the keel of my cock. “I went a bit mental,” Barbara continues. “When I saw you’d actually gone hard. I’d turned myself on by parading around in my bikini. I didn’t realise you’d get so aroused looking at an old bird like me … but you did!
“And that really surprised me, Adam. It was all a bit of a joke until then. You know what I was like. You know I didn’t rate myself that high you’d go for me.”
Barbara has slowed with the hand action while telling me all this, and I give a little thrust into her fist to remind her. She laughs and says sorry, rolling her eyes while getting back to it.
“I won’t tell you again, Aunt Barbara,” I growl, leaning in while also pulling her up for a kiss. “You’re so fucking hot. Look at me,” I add, waving my hard-on at her. “This is how high I rate you.”
My aunt slowly nods and gives me a serious look. She eases back and folds her legs at the knees, splaying the petals of her sex with her fingers. “Put it in,” Barbara murmurs. “But make love. Go slow. I’m a bit sore, remember.”
It’s sublime when I ease into her body, my focus fixed on her face to see if I’m hurting her.
“We’re fucking,” my aunt mumbles, like she’s just woken up to find her nephew inside her up to his balls. Barbara’s eyes glaze over while she chews her lower lip. “Oh God, Adam,” she whines, “I can’t get over us doing this together. Go slowly, babe. It feels lovely this way. Just slide in and out.”
The expression on her face and the tone of her voice bring the words from me. I duck in low while holding myself up on bent arms, my fingers curled around the aluminium frame of the lounger. “I love you,” I breathe. “I want to do this with you forever.”
Then we’re moving faster together, Barbara’s hips working while the bed creaks beneath her.
“Let’s go down to the lawn,” my aunt suggests after the sun-lounger shunts over the deck and threatens to give way entirely. Which is how we end up outdoors under a high summer sun, with her on all fours while I’m curled over her back, those large heavy tits in my palms.
Regardless of Barbara’s earlier declaration of being a bit tender down there, she’s soon rubbing her clit while urging me into her deeper and harder.
“Just fuck it into me,” my aunt groans, head lolling loose as she claws at the grass. “I’m so close, Adam – please.”
In the end it’s a close run thing. I manage to hold off long enough for Barbara to sob out she’s coming, her body beginning to judder. I grab at her hips and go deep, emptying all I have into her. Then we’re both grunting and gasping and groaning, the pair of us lost in our own world of pleasure.
After this, when we’ve cooled and the need has receded – for the time being at least – we’re walking hand-in-hand across the lawn towards the pool, the big house beyond. Barbara stops walking and moves in to face me. “Did you say you love me?” she asks.
“Yes,” I manage to croak. “I think I do, Aunt Barbara.”
“I’ll stay for the rest of the summer,” she tells me, staring at me for so long I’m beginning to get worried. “What do you say? We’ll see how we’re getting on in the autumn.”
Which seems perfectly reasonable to me. So I shrug and I nod, and then I kiss her again.