The Mom Memories - Chapter 17 - Alwayswantedto - Literotica

 The Mom Memories Ch. 17

by alwayswantedto©

All characters are 18 years or older.

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I reviewed the video for the whole morning. It started with Mary walking down the hallway with my mother, presumably after finishing their morning coffee together. Mom entered her room while Mary walked on and walked into my old room, now occupied by my father. Almost as soon as Mary disappeared, Paul appeared and quickly slipped down the hall and into Mom's room.

She was waiting for him, holding her arms out as he now leisurely sauntered toward her, bending into her embrace for a long morning kiss. It seemed familiar, like the scene had been played before. As Paul continued to kiss my mother, she pulled her knee back until her foot was dangling just over her thigh, near her butt, and draped a silk scarf over her lover's shoulder. Paul slowly wound the scarf around her thigh and her ankle, wrapping it in a figure eight several times before he tied it, securing her foot firmly to her thigh.

They kissed again. A long, slow kiss. Afterward, Mom pulled her other knee back and Paul a similar scarf, laying on the bed, to similarly secure her other foot to her remaining thigh. Again they kissed but this time Paul fondled Mom's bare pussy, continually rubbing and stroking. She was glistening when their kiss finally ended.

Gently, Paul lifted Mom's hand and laid it near her tied ankle. Mom held it there while he searched for another scarf on the bed. A minute later her hand was bound too. Another long kiss and contemporary manipulation of Mother's slit. When the kiss ended, Mom's free hand was tied to her leg in the same fashion. She was now laying with her knees pulled far back, ankles tied down to the back of her thighs, and wrists ties to her ankles. Her pussy was, bare, shaved, open and wet and her eyes sparkled with anticipation.

Paul got up and left.

Fifteen minutes passed before he returned. Amazingly, Mom's pussy was visibly soaked. Her eyes were still sparkling but the message they conveyed was more need than anticipation. She was breathing quickly.

Paul calmly walked over and sat next to her on the bed. For several minutes he did nothing. Then he rested his hand lightly on her left, upturned buttock and began moving it is a slow circle, then stretching up to stroke the back of her thigh all the way to her knee. Eventually, he crossed, past Mom's pouting pussy, to caress her other thigh. Before he got up he quickly inserted his fingers into her wet hole, and then he was gone again.

His return was longer in coming this time and Mom was panting, her eyes desperate. He walked quickly to the bed, picked up a feather and held it high for Mom to see, before lowering it toward her waiting, quivering genitals.

Smack! Mom gasped aloud. Paul had dropped the feather and spanked her exposed butt cheek. Smack! Smack! He repeated his open hand slaps. Mom's gasps were similarly repeated.

Now the feather stroked over her pulsing pussy, tenderly, caressing, loving. Up her thighs, first one and then the other, then over her begging lips, her wet lips.

"Ohhhhhh, you do that so well."

"Shhhhhhh, now. Just enjoy it. Don't talk or you're ruin it."

The feather traveled up and down Mom's thighs and between to caress her breasts, her stiff nipples, and then on to slip across her mouth before playing over the rest of her face before retracing its path down to her throbbing sex.

Paul picked up the long white cylinder I had seen earlier. Suddenly, it began buzzing. He lowered it between her legs, almost to her pussy before flicking it sideways against the inside of her thigh where he let it throb against her leg. Up, he lifted the vibrator so Mom could see it clearly and then down again only to once more teasingly bump against her other leg. Carefully, he set the vibrator down, below Mom's upturned ass, almost touching her. He got up and walked out.

Paul appeared in the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. Mary appeared from Dad's room and glanced at Mom's closed door, a slight frown crossing her face. She must have heard the vibrator. She joined her son in the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee, drinking while preparing some medicine destined for my father, chatting to Paul. Paul waited for several minutes after Mary left, quietly finishing his coffee as he read the morning paper.

Mom was beside herself when he came in. She had be trying to get to the vibrator but only succeeded in settling her tailbone on its tip which must have exacerbated her need without proving much fulfillment.

Paul sat down and pulled the vibrator away.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Then the loving touch. Gentle, loving, caressing. He bent over to rain light kisses on the back of her thighs, nibbling, coming close to her craving pussy but never touching it. Again, he trailed the feather up and down her thighs, over her tits, all around her face and then down and over her pussy, again and again.

He held his hand up as if he was about to slap her ass again, swooped down, slowing at the last moment to push his fingers inside, pushing far into her and then shaking and vibrating his hand, almost lifting Mom off the bed. She was moaning now, trying to lift herself from the bed, to impale herself further on his invasive hand, goading him, almost begging to be reamed even more.

Paul kept working his fingers inside her. Twisting and thrusting, way in. Was he preparing her for his large, bulbous cock? Just when he almost had his whole hand inside, he suddenly pulled out. Mom lay gasping, waiting, as if she'd expected it. The vibrator returned but this time brought electric ecstasy directly to Mom's quivering quim. Deftly, he played my mother like he knew exactly how and when to move the shivering stick to extract the maximum appreciation from her longing body. But before she could come, he pulled it away and shut it off.

He watched as her craving subsided, as her quivering thighs relaxed. Buzzzzz, the vibrator came back to life. Gently, he laid the buzzing love stick directly on Mom's pussy, lining it up to lay between her nether lips, passing the handle into her hand, waiting until she had it firmly in her fingers. Again, he got up and left.

Downstairs, Paul had lunch with his mother. He ate a sandwich while she had a salad. They both drank another cup of coffee before Mary prepared a tray with lunch and more pills for my Dad. Paul carried the tray upstairs, Mary again glancing at my mother's door. Paul was saying something about heading off to school but when he exited Dad's room he went straight into Mom's room.

Inside, he disrobed. Completely. His odd-shaped cock wobbled between his legs as he walked toward my mother, in the desperate throes of who knows how many orgasms. She watched at him all the way. Or rather, she stared at his weird cock, too weak to hold up its enormous head. As Paul placed his knees on the bed, Mom dropped the vibrator and tried to twist herself toward him. She needed to be fucked.

Paul grasped her feet and turned her up and toward him, immediately pushing the massive head of his deformed cock against her soaked and raw pussy. He pushed. Even after this much preparation, there was resistance, like the first push into a woman's ass. He persisted, pushing steadily, gaining slowly, until the head disappeared into her cunt. Mom's mouth was wide open, her head bobbing with the effort to accommodate him.

She looked delirious as he started to fuck her. Not hard, not fast. Just slow and steady, untying the scarves as he rocked into her, increasing his pace. When she was finally free, he lifted her ankles high in the air and slid his hands down the outside of her legs until he was gripping her thighs just above her butt. Mom locked her ankles around his neck.

"Fuck me," she whispered intensely. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me."

Her words seemed to drive him as he thrust harder with every expletive demand.

It became frenetic until they were frantically moaning and groaning with every thrust. It wasn't long before they were in a desperate clutch, exchanging fluids, pushing and rubbing hard against each other. When he pulled out he was still dripping even though his cream oozed out of her full pussy. He trailed up her torso, dripping over her tummy and onto her tits.

"I can't believe how much you cum," Mom said. "It's unbelievable."

She looked up at him as he squeezed the last drops onto her neck.

"Call her in. Show your mommy how much her son can cum." She laughed out loud.

Paul walked away from her without saying a word, picked up his clothes and dressed in silence. He took his time and when he finished, he walked out.

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I felt like I'd seen too much of my mother, that I no longer wanted her. I took a break.

Later in the day, I visited the locker and retrieved several boxes filled mostly with letters but there were also some old VHS tapes. I couldn't watch them until I found an old VHS player but I did begin searching through the letters. I was thrilled to see letters from Grant, Jack, Mark, Craig, William and Evan. I picked up the one from Grant whom I told you about in Chapters 5 and 11.

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Mom was cooking something on the stove. I'm not sure what and I didn't look as I shuffled past to the coffee pot, mumbling "morning," not yet quite awake. The past week had been uneventful and I was resigned to waiting at least a few weeks before having another chance at her. I added milk, spilling some on the counter and walked over to sit at the table before getting something to eat. As I sipped my coffee, my eyes wandered to my mother, to her big fluffy slippers, up her bare calves and to her behind, or at least what I could see of it covered as it was by her thick terry cloth housecoat. Still, it moved interestingly as she slowly stirred the pot on the stove. My ears perked when she began talking about Dad.

"Come over and keep me company while I cook this," she said.

Grumbling, I got up and scuffed my way over, leaning against the fridge and drinking my coffee while she continued to talk. She was talking about the time she finally managed to still Dad's wandering eye.

"... and that was it," she said. "One day I just happened to wear a pair of slacks that was too tight around my butt. Well, your father was beside himself. All the way home he was on about how he had sat on the bench in the middle of the mall and watched guy after guy staring at my butt when their wives weren't looking. Even the young shop boys looked he said."

Mom stopped stirring and laughed, looking up and away as if watching a recording of the scene from long ago. She stared to stir again and continued, "It was a good thing you and your sister weren't home. He was in such a rush, he bumped into me on the way up the stairs and I dropped all my bags but instead of helping, he started pulling my pants down. By the time I crawled to the top he had them off and he was on me."

Mom fell silent but she continued to stir.

"That was the first time," she said in a lowered voice. There was a long pause while she continued to stir silently.

Sensing that she might be getting into a mood, I gently prodded.

"The first time ..."

She didn't respond and I was about to nudge her again when she whispered, "He took me from behind."

I almost dropped my cup. Recovering, I quickly finished my coffee and walked past Mom to set it on the counter, returning to stand behind her, the blood already rushing to my genitals.

Mom's spoke again, her voice resuming its normal tone. "It was a regular thing after that, shopping at malls all over town, even other places, just so Dad could follow and watch men look at my butt. I had to wear pants that emphasized my ass, especially anything that would divide my cheeks no matter how uncomfortable. But he didn't have eyes for other women, so I put up with it."

Mom kept stirring, adding some spices to the pot now and then.

"And then one day, he didn't want to go out anymore. He always found a way to pat me on the ass when you kids weren't looking, or he'd get you to go out and play so he could play with my bottom, especially while I was cooking, like this."

"Really?" I asked, stepping closer so my pajamas brushed lightly against Mom's terry cloth robe, placing my hands on her hips.

"Yeah. I'd fetch something that I had to bend over to get and the next thing you'd know, he'd be right behind me." Mom laughed softly. "Sometimes I teased him terribly." She pushed her bum back, bumping me lightly on the front of my pajamas. "Like that," she laughed louder. "It never failed."

Mom's voice lowered again. "But then he started getting fixated. He wanted me to walk around in my panties when you kids weren't home. And then he wanted me to just wear an apron. As soon as you were out of the house on the weekends, I had to put on the apron and pretend I was cooking while he stared at my bare butt and touched it until he got really worked up and I'd run upstairs and he'd try to catch me like that first time."

Mom stirred for a few more minutes without saying anything. This time I was afraid to disturb her reverie lest I derail her from the path I hoped she was following. I had managed to pull her back a bit to nestle against my pajamas but I didn't dare push in case I interrupted her train of thought. Please go on, I thought.

With a tiny extra push, almost a rub, Mom began speaking softly.

"Then, one day, he started doing strange things. He'd been hugging me, you know, standing behind me, kissing my neck and stroking my back. Oh he did that so nicely, you know, running his fingers up and down my back." She paused. "Gosh, it's hot in here." She began to fidget.

No, don't stop, my inner voice was shrill. Please don't quit.

"I think I'm getting a flash. I'm so hot." She was wriggling around now. "Baby, help me get my robe off."

Quickly, I reached around and undid the belt on Mom's robe and pulled it from her shoulders, pausing to let her get each arm out, one at a time so she could keep stirring the pot. After draping it over a kitchen chair, I turned back to see Mom stirring the stove, dressed only in a thigh-length nightie cut in a deep U shape that bared her back. The material was so thin I could see a long shadow defining the divide between her cheeks. My boner stiffened markedly. Why wouldn't Dad be fixated on her butt? I stood behind her but made sure my eager member didn't touch her bottom.

"Thanks sweetie."

Mom continued to stir but was silent for a long time. I kept myself busy staring at the smooth womanly skin of her back, the swell of her buttocks, and the bulge of her breasts at her side. At some point, I began stroking her back, lightly dragging the fingers of both hands up and down, following the edge of her nightie from her shoulders until they met at the base of her spine. Over and over, as soft as I could manage. When she still didn't speak, I couldn't help prompting her.

"So, Dad was doing strange things?"

"Yes," she said quietly, staring into the pot.

"Like what?" I matched her quiet tone.

"Well, he put his fingers on my butt. He was always patting it, but this time he slipped his fingers between, you know, like, between my cheeks."

Mom shuddered.

"It felt so weird," she whispered.

I hazarded a touch on Mom's bottom, thrilling to the free feel of her loose cheeks.

"No," she said. My hand froze.

"He was always doing that. It was right in there, you know, in between."

I moved my hand toward the middle of Mom's ass, lining its edge up with her crack.

"Yeah, like that," she said. "Except, since it was your Dad, and I was only wearing an apron, he pushed his fingers right into my bare ass."

"Oh," I said, not sure what to say or do.

"And then he did it," Mom said.

"What?" I whispered.

There was a long pause. I let the edge of my fingers push deeper between her cheeks, pinching her nightie in.

"He spit on me," Mom whispered.

"He spit on you?" I was incredulous. I couldn't imagine my father treating my mother badly. I knew he loved her.

"Yes. It shocked me, but before I could react he did it again. But this time, it was more like a dribble. I could his spit running down my back. He spit again, a wetter one, and it pushed the rest faster down my into my bum, running into my crack like a little river. He grabbed my cheeks, one in each hand, and pulled them apart with his thumbs, I guess to let his spit get right in there. I could feel it oozing through my crack. Then he spit again, almost gobbing, right at the top of my ass. It ran slower, like hot toffee, flowing like hot lava into my ass."

Mom stopped. She was panting, gasping for air. I was having difficulty breathing myself. I pulled her nightie up to her waist and held it there, staring at her bare ass. She was oblivious.

"Then he ... oh god ... when it dripped down, he smeared it all around with his thumbs. It was so strange. Nobody had ever touched me there. It felt weird, but good, and that shocked me. And just then, he pushed one of his thumbs inside. I don't which one, but he poked it right inside my bum." Mom followed up with a few short gasps, each followed by a quick intake of air.

I leaned down, put my mouth near the top of Mom's ass and went for broke. I squeezed out a large stream of saliva, opening her cheeks to let it drool down her crack. As it neared her little hole I moved my right hand below, stopping the flow with my fingers, forcing it to pool around her crinkly brown door. I could hear her panting quicken. Was she thinking of Dad that day or reacting to me?

I drooled out another mouthful of saliva, moved my mouth lower and used my tongue to urge the goo along. Was that moan for me? No matter. She was ready. I slid my finger inside and quickly moved it back and forth as I discovered how easily it slipped through her dark little entrance. A second finger followed. I shoved them both in and out several times. She's getting fucked right here, I thought, desperately trying to pull my pajamas down with one hand. Mom must have realized what I was doing because she suddenly lurched forward off my impaling fingers and stumbled out of the kitchen, catching me completely off guard.

"No, the children. They'll be home soon."

What? The children? What the fuck was she talking about.

I stumbled after her, dragging my pajamas off as I went. Mom was halfway up the stairs by the time I passed through the doorway, discarding my pajamas on the floor. I caught her near the top but she struggled up to the landing before I pushed her onto the carpet, kneeing her legs apart and pushing my cock against her butt.

"No! The children."

"Fuck the kids," I yelled, my cock nudging against her slick anus. I pushed and the head popped inside.

"Uggggh," Mom responded.

I pushed, forcing myself in, slowly widening her.

"Ohhhhhhhhh," Mom moaned, and then, "ugghh, unnghhhh, unnggghh," as I stared pumping into her ass, nudging her along the hallway.

We reached her bedroom doorway by the time we came. She fell flat to the floor and I collapsed on her. A few minutes later, she pulled herself ahead away from me and stumbled over to the her bed, falling face first onto the mattress. I struggled up and followed her, cum dripping from my half hard cock.

I scrabbled up onto the bed and straddled her thighs. Spreading her cheeks with my hands I stared at her asshole, my cum oozing out. My cock stiffened so fast I thought it would snap. Guided it down into the pool of white goo, I pushed in, relishing in the loud grunt from my mother's lips that my effort produced.

"Oh, god. I love it," she cried as I started our second ass fuck that morning, a long one with lots of moaning and grunting. It exhausted us. I'm surprised we even heard my sister coming in the door with her kids. I ran to my room.

Mom was downstairs in a dress when I arrived, also fully dressed. My sister Wendy was chiding Mom about leaving laundry layout around. My pajamas had been picked up and placed on top of Mom's housecoat, still draped over the chair. My sister and her kids stayed for lunch, long enough to fulfill her duty visit before she drove home in the next town. I managed to pat Mom's ass several times without getting caught. Mom seemed shocked and then angry at first but warmed up and seemed to be enjoying the game by the time Wendy was ready to go.

As soon as my sister and her kids were out the door, I pinned Mom up against it, holding her there with my body while my hands reached around to grope her tits. Mom was looking through one of the long vertical window slits in the door as her daughter leaned in the back seat on the far side of the car to strap one kid into their car seats. As she shut the door and walked around to do the other kid, I dropped my hands to my jeans and undid my belt. As my sister leaned in to do her daughter, her behind facing us, I lifted Mom's dress and pushed myself against her, ready to rub myself against her panties until my sister was gone.

I was surprised when my cock mashed against Mom's bare ass. She wasn't wearing panties. Well, I guess she hadn't had time to put any on. Watching my sister's well-defined behind as I rubbed Mom's, my cock hardened to pure steel.

"Look at that," I whispered. "Like mother, like daughter."

"You keep your eyes to yourself," Mom reprimanded me.

"Do you think Don does her like this?"

"Stop it, Grant."

"No, I don't think so," I went on. "He's too much of a wuss."

"He is a wuss," Mom agreed as my cock slipped between her thighs and I slid my hands up inside her dress to take her bare tits into my hands.

Wendy finished strapping my niece in and closed the back door, turned to wave at the house, and got into her car.

"I hope she doesn't get frustrated and start looking around," I whispered, sliding back and forth between Mom's legs as my sister began backing down the drive, smiling and waving at the door where she could probably see Mom.

"No," Mom said. "We don't want her to stray."

My sister had backed onto the street and her car started moving forward.

"We should keep her busy in the family," I whispered, pushing into Mom's pussy for the first time in my life. She was surprisingly tight but I managed to get the door rattling before Wendy's car disappeared. I didn't let her off the door until I was finished. She seemed to like it. She loved it the rest of the afternoon, too.

We were graced with several visits from my sister after that. Almost every weekend. I had been visiting Mom's bed every night so it wasn't too much of an interruption except that it stopped me from having her during the day on the weekends. Still, I looked forward to her visits because I couldn't get the thought of her behind out of my mind since I first mentioned it to Mom.

I was so keen on looking at my older sister, who I had fought with like cats and dogs for years, that Mom had to ask me to leave so she could talk to her. She suspected that her daughter was trying to tell her something and needed time alone to work herself up to it. That week, Mom confided in me.

I guess Don wasn't satisfying her too well and she was getting bored and antsy. She was at that age, almost thirty and married six years, where she wanted some excitement and Don wasn't it. Mom was terrified Wendy was going to have an affair. I guess one of her and Don's friends was flirting with her when his wife and Don weren't around. And Mom thought Wendy was weakening. Evidently, this guy had got Wendy into online chatting with him during the day and late at night and had sent pictures of himself to her and pointed her to a website with video clips of sex that was more exciting than the not even weekly missionary position excursions she engaged in with her husband. Mom thought that confiding in her was a desperate attempt to stop herself because she was about to give in.

On Saturday, Wendy arrived for another visit. Mom was petrified that she was about to reveal a tryst with their adventurous friend and that two marriages were now in jeopardy. Just a matter of time. I took the kids out for the afternoon so Mom and Wendy could talk. As it turned out, nothing had yet happened but they were closer than ever. Evidently, Wendy's trips were more to avoid the inevitable than to seek counseling from her mother. Mom thought Wendy might not visit the following week, and was desperate to do something.

Wendy wanted to leave right after supper but Mom insisted she and the kids stay, promising the kids that I would take them to the local fair the next day. After that, it was impossible for Wendy to get the kids to go home. Mom insisted that Wendy have a relaxing bath after supper. She came downstairs in the velour robe Mom had laid out for her. Mom insisted the kids go to bed early and shooed them upstairs with a promise to come up to read them fairytales from her big book, the one with the scary stories unlike the safe vanilla ones offered up these days. Wendy usually hated for Mom to read these stories to her kids but she didn't complain tonight.

As soon as the kids went upstairs Mom dragged out her large exercise pad and covered it with white towels. She lit the gas fireplace, turned out the lights, and pulled a surprised Wendy onto the mat, instructing her to lay face down and relax. Mom went into the kitchen and returned with a large metal mixing bowl filled with warm oil. Now I began to get an idea about why she had insisted earlier that change into my robe while Wendy was in the bath.

"You need to relax dear. Now, I'm going to go upstairs and look after the children until they're asleep and you're going to lay her and enjoy a massage from your brother. He's been taking a special course in relaxation therapy and it's done me wonders since Dad passed."

This was pure malarkey. I hadn't taken any course in relaxation therapy and didn't know the first thing about how to do a massage. Wendy began to protest but Mom insisted she wouldn't take no for an answer from either of us. She turned to me.

"Now you do the best job you can for your sister. God knows, you owe it to her for all the years you were nasty to her." Facing Wendy, Mom said, "Just let Grant do his thing. He has a real talent, and you need it."

Capitulating, Wendy laid her head down in her crooked arms and waited. Mom smiled at me, a knowing smile, capped by a slight twist of her face and a concerned look that kind of said, "She's in your hands. Save her."

As Mom padded away and up the stairs, Wendy asked, "So can are you really learning how to do massage and practicing on Mom?"

Picking up from Mom, I answered, "I was the top student and the instructor said I was a natural, the best she'd ever had. You can see how much it helped Mom, I can do the same for you."

I smiled to myself when I said that. If only.

Wendy sighed and said, "I'm all yours."

That was an exciting thought but I didn't dwell on it. I squatted on the floor and moved the large bowl of hot oil down beside my sister's feet, picked up a foot, dipped my fingers into the oil and rubbed some onto her sole. Though I took my time, it was only a few minutes later that I set Wendy's foot down and picked up the other.

"Mmmmm, that does feel nice," my sister murmurred.

"Try not to talk. Just feel," I replied. I was playing this by ear but it seemed that Wendy was impressed with my fake massaging of her foot. I didn't want her to talk because that would keep reminding me that I was her brother. I wanted her to drift off, to lose herself in feeling. I had been presented with a wonderful opportunity to touch up my married sister's body and I wanted to make the most of it. "Shhhhh," I tried to soften my instructions.

With a single index finger, I repeated the sensuous stroking that worked so successfully on the other foot. I lightly traced the bottom of her sole, over her instep and around her angle, down each side of her Achilles and back up to her arch and then down to her toes, slowly inserting my finger between each toe and dragging it through. I stopped several times to dip my finger in the oil, keeping her foot slick and warm.

I was acutely aware of her other foot laying across my folded knee. I had shifted closer to her to make sure it dangled across and outside of my thigh. I didn't want her coming into contact with my boner and stopping the show. I set her foot down and picked the first one up again. I tickled my finger across the base of her toes above the balls of her foot and then traced a line along her sole with a detour into her instep, over her heel and then down the back of her calf to the hollow behind her knee where I circled several times.

"Ohhh, that's wonderful," she sighed.

"Shhhhhh," I admonished in a very soft voice.

Dipping several fingers into the bowl, I spread oil liberally over the muscles in her lower leg. I took my time stroking, squeezing, scratching and tickling her leg and foot, and then did the same with her other leg. She was definitely relaxed when I finished.

I took her hand and gently massed it the same way I had done her foot. Whispering that it was time to do her arms, I gently tugged on her sleeve until she shifted her weight and helped me slide the sleeve of the robe off her arm, leaving one shoulder half uncovered. Again, I took my time working on her arm, from fingertips to shoulder, working my finger between hers, tracing through her palm and over the back of her hand, swirling a curving trace around her forearm, behind her elbow and along the delicate skin of her upper arm. The other arm was a similar treatise and both shoulders were bare when I was done.

Kneeling behind her again, I shifted her knees slightly apart as I whispered that it was now time to finish her legs. As delicately as I could, I folded the robe up to the middle of her thighs and began spreading the oil above her knees, on the backs of her legs. After a while, I folded the robe again, onto her bottom, leaving her legs mostly bare but not yet exposing her buttocks. I spent a lot of time stroking her legs, making sure to lift her knees so I could spread oil on the front of her thighs too. Then I moved to her back.

I folded the robe down from her shoulder the same way I had folded it up her legs. The first fold I laid across the small of her back, exposing only her upper back, but to do so, I tugged the robe out from underneath. Without a sound, Wendy lifted her weight to let me slip the material from under her chest. When she laid back down she kept her arms tight to her sides but a few minutes later, as she luxuriated in my back massage, she curled her arms above her head. Now the sides of her breasts squished out from the sides of her ribcage. Oh, how that sight sent a tickle from my balls to my tip.

A few minutes later, I folded the robe once more. Now it lay in a band across her bottom and the sway of her back, centered on the groove rising up to her buttocks, caressed my eyes. Using both hands, I dripped oil until it pooled in the small of her back and then spread it around with my trembling hand in widening circles until my fingers dipped over the edge of her waist and fluttered up the rising swell of her hips and across, approaching but not touching her still covered buttocks. I vacillated between light, feathery stroking and kneading her flesh, pushing down and up her back, forcing her tummy and chest down to the floor, rubging her against the towels underneath. Reluctantly, I eventually stopped and moved to kneel above her head. I whispered again, very softly.

"Now I'm going to push the tension down your back to your center. Let it flow, don't resist."

Wendy didn't respond. She could have been sleeping except for her breathing which signaled how much she was enjoying the massage. I started pressing down on her shoulders with flat palms, squeezing toward her waist. I kept this up for several minutes until I was brushing along her sides, over the bulging swells of her squashed breasts, down her waist and along the outside of her hips under her robe, her bare hips. For the first time, I realized that my sister wasn't even wearing panties. My cock strained against my gaunchies under my robe. Moving onto the center of her back, I pushed into the hollow and up the rise to her buttocks, stretching my fingers a couple of inches under the robe again.

I leaned back because my robe had loosened and was threatening to drag on her back. As I started to cinch it tight, I changed my mind and instead removed it completely. Since her eyes had remained closed, I thought, what the hell.

I whispered, "This is the hardest part. I'm going to pull the tension up from your legs. Keep your eyes closed. It will help you concentrate."

I set the bowl beside Wendy's hips, dipped my fingers in and dripped oil onto the back of her thighs, repeating until her legs were slippery with oil. Leaning further forward, I grasped each leg just above the knee and pulled toward me, squeezing her flesh between my widely stretched thumbs and fingers. Again and again I stroked, leaning forward and pulling back with my whole body.

On each pull, I pushed the bunched up robe higher. Soon, I was able to push it above the crest of her buttocks and down the slope until it was stretched across the small of her back. My hands were now dragging oil up and over her bottom, pressing her cheeks down as they passed. If my sister was aware that I was running my oily hands all over her slippery ass, she didn't let on or complain.

As I realized what I was getting away with, I became more liberal with my touch, switching from massage to caress. I was no longer kneading and squeezing but stroking, pulling her cheeks apart to reveal what her secret crease had been hiding, enjoying the meaty resistance of her flesh. Applying yet more oil, I dipped my fingers between her legs and dragged them through her cheeks, right over that dark little spot my mother enjoyed so much.

Wendy pulled away on that first stroke but didn't otherwise object. On the next stroke, her butt lifted the tiniest amount toward my advancing fingers, increasing their access and allowing them to remain in contact for the briefest extension. It was a telling sign and a few strokes later I allowed them to pause for a little circle before continuing on their way. Like mother, like daughter. I don't know if my sister knew it or would admit it but her asshole definitely liked being touched. Soon I was circling on every stroke, oiling her rim, even venturing brief dips, tiny probes into what I now hoped the future held.

And then I had my accident. I stretched down to grasp her calves at the bottom of her muscles, intending to launch a long, sensuous pull all the way up her legs before trying a more obvious poke into her hole. But I had to lean forward so far that my gaunchies contacted Wendy's face, pressing into her cheek as her head lay to one side. I froze, my body rigid, my swollen gaunchies pressing at the side of my sister's mouth. I pulled my hips up, still clutching her lower legs just above her ankles. She didn't move.

Slowly, I pulled up her legs to her ass but didn't try the probe. Instead, I stretched down to grasp her lower legs again. Pausing, I lowered my hips until my bulging gaunchies pressed into her cheek again. No reaction. This time, as I pulled my hands up I tried to keep my gaunchees pressed against my sister's face. Since no objection was raised, on the next few strokes I tried to keep my gaunchies pressed on her face with mixed success.

I lowered myself to rest on my elbows so I could more easily brush my gaunchies against Wendy's cheek. My cock had hardened so much it was straining the confines of my underwear and the tip was trying to escape through the gap on the left side. I dipped my right hand into the bowl and began to stroke between Wendy's cheeks but this time, after circling her little hole, I stayed there.

I circled and circled, slowly increasing the pressure, pushing in until suddenly, my finger inserted until my fingernail was covered. Without pushing further I wiggled my finger in a little circle. I was fingering my sister's ass! Unbelievable.

My cock grew enough to escape through the gap between my leg and my gaunchies. I looked down at my knees stretched wide apart over my sister's head and the white bulge of my underwear almost touching her face, the head of my cock sticking out the side. Fascinated, I lowered myself slowly down, down until the head of my cock grazed my sister's face and then down a little more to put to dent her cheek. Amazingly, after a few seconds Wendy's head turned slightly, up, toward me. The corner of her mouth dragged across my throbbing cock and past, leaving me poised in front of her open cavity. She waited. With great trepidation, unsure if this was an invitation, I lowered the head of my cock into my married sister's open mouth. Her lips closed over me.

I groaned. She moaned. I pushed my finger deeper, deeper, deeper, until it was all the way in and began wiggling it around, then pulled it in a out. I looked back to watch my cock struggling to get further into my beautiful sister's mouth. Her hand moved, fingers slipping into the gaunchie gap, pulling and freeing my cock, letting more of it slip into her. My gorgeous sister tilted her head and pulled, filling her mouth with my cock. I pushed, and pushed and pushed.

A minute later, on the verge of coming, I pulled out.

Scrambling around, I kneeled behind her, pushed my gauncies down to my knees, dipped my hand in the bowl and cupped a liberal amount of oil all over my cock which seemed ready to explode. Wasting no time, I pushed down and lined it up with the nickel sized hole and struggled to push it in.

Oh, god, the moans. You wouldn't believe the way she moaned. As soon as I started shoving it in. She loved it. I thought my mother liked getting fucked in the ass but my sister was made for it. I knew on the third stroke, when I was able to get fully inside her, that my sister would never deny me, that I would have a woman's ass for the rest of my life.

I leaned over her head and grabbed her wrists, resting my face in the crook of her shoulder.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I know," she whispered back.

I slipped my hands back to tilt her head up, gently stoking her throat.

"I love you," I repeated.

"Then show me," she said hoarsely

I did my level best.

When I finished and we were gasping for breath, we noticed Mom sitting on the couch. We hadn't seen her come in. I was was surprised at Wendy's muted reaction.

"The kids are sleeping," Mom said. Wendy nodded.

"Do you feel better?" Mom asked. Wendy nodded again.

"Let's go upstairs to my bed. I need him now."

Mom and I went at it while Wendy had a shower. She joined us just as I rolled off Mom.

"You have to get up and to go your own bed before the kids get up," Mom warned.

Wendy nodded, looking at my long, flaccid cock lolling around on my stomach.

Seeing where her daughter was looking, Mom laughed and said, "Don't worry. Knowing him, you'll wake up with it in you before dawn."

I did wake before dawn. My cock was embedded in a warm, wet mouth. My sister's mouth. She finished what she'd started the night before and kept sucking long enough to get me to half mast again. Then she quickly kissed me and lay between Mom and I with her face on the mattress, ass in the air.

"Fuck me," was all she said.

As it turned out, Mom took the kids to the fair so my sister and I could fuck our brains out the next afternoon. Wendy left late, and she was back every weekend for the next few months.

We didn't manage to save Wendy's marriage. She didn't have an affair with that guy, or anyone else, but she and Don were divorced within the year. All Wendy's doing. Nobody thought anything of it when she moved back home to stay with her mother. 

And brother.

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It looked like Grant's story was done. I was ready for a new story now so I picked up one from a new guy named Gerry that Dad had marked with a yellow sticky note that Dad had drawn a star on. Something he thought was special, I guess.

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It looked like Grant's story was done. I was ready for a new story now so I picked up one from a new guy named Gerry that Dad had marked with a yellow sticky note that Dad had drawn a star on. Something he thought was special, I guess.

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I sent this letter after hearing about your group even though it's about my Aunt Janice. Aunt Janice is my Mom's younger sister by about five years but you can definitely tell they're sisters. Janice has darker hair than my Mom's lighter red, almost blonde color but they're quite similar other than that. Both women are pretty and have slim figures that are well endowed for their frames which makes their waists seem narrower than they really are.

Aunt Janice lived alone with her son. Mervin was slow and men just didn't want to be tied up with him even though she would make some guy really happy, at least that's what I overheard my mom once say to my Dad. Mom went on to say that her sister had given up on men, considering them more trouble than they were worth, and certainly not worth the disruption they caused in her and Mervin's life. So my Aunt and my cousin lived alone in the city.

Mervin was different. He was quite slow, always had been, but he was also very good natured and happy. He was a nice kid to be around but he had some odd behaviors which we tolerated as family but Aunt Janice's men friends couldn't handle it, just Mervin's father who had run off so many years ago.

I always liked it when Aunt Janice came out from the city to visit us but I wasn't all that thrilled when Mom suggested I stay with her while I went to college instead of commuting fifty miles a day. It would save gas money, be cheaper than living in the dorms, and help Aunt Janice out, Mom said. I couldn't really argue. Mom's mind was made up.

So I ended up staying with Aunt Janice and Mervin in the big old house that Mom and she had grown up in. It was one thing to visit, another to live together. I wasn't happy. That is, until I discovered that several nights a week Aunt Janice changed into turtle neck shirts in the evening, with nothing underneath.

The best part came when I found out why Aunt Janice, or just Janice as she now insisted I call her, preferred this kind of clothing. I had started to fantasize that she was flirting with me since she didn't dress like that when she was out during the day. I remembered Mom saying it wasn't healthy her shunning men for so long. Maybe she was lonely, and being in close proximity to someone more manly than Mervin was affecting her. But alas, my nigh time fantasies were just that, dreams.

We had been watching Mervin's favorite show on TV after a nice roast chicken dinner, with mashed potatoes and mashed turnips and carrots, a favorite of mine. Mervin was ready for bed, dressed in his pajamas, which he had to do or he couldn't watch his show. I had put on pajamas too at Aunt Janice's request so Mervin wouldn't make a fuss. During the last half hour of the show, Mervin shocked me by turning to his Mom as soon as the commercials started and touching her breasts.

Though stunned, at first I stared as he playfully poked at her loose breasts, but then I became embarrassed and looked away when Aunt Janice's face reddened as she pushed Mervin's hands away.

"Mervin," she whispered, "we talked about this. Now stop it."

Mervin laughed and batted at her ample breasts, giggling when they jostled about. He was focused on a new toy and I knew Aunt Janice's protests were futile, as I'm sure she did too. Nevertheless, she kept trying to keep her son at bay.

"Mervin. It's not polite to play this game in front of guests." Aunt Janice whispered intensely but quietly and directly to Mervin, reminding her son of a pact they had made but also trying to keep it between themselves. But I overheard.

Mervin's pestering stopped as soon as his show started again and he showed no further interest in his mother's assets. But I did. I couldn't help looking out the corner of my eye at Aunt Janice sitting on the couch between us. Looking at her chest, that is. I tried to be circumspect but I think my aunt was aware of my attention. The two of us sat in uncomfortable silence while Mervin enjoyed his show.

During the next set of commercials, Mervin renewed his game. This time, I kept my eyes averted, which may have contributed to Aunt Janice's new tactic of silently suffering through his antics instead of fighting him off. Perhaps she figured this would draw less attention or he would lose interest. It was partially successful. Mervin giggled less but he still played with his mom's breasts, in a childish fashion, until his show started.

I couldn't help but notice, through sneaking peeks as we watched the TV, that Mervin may have been playing a childish game but Aunt Janice had reacted. Her chest was rising and falling more rapidly, possibly due to her displeasure about her son putting us in such an awkward situation, but the two now prominent points poking through her turtleneck suggested another explanation.

The implications turned over in my mind until Mervin's show ended and he began complaining about having to go to bed but Aunt Janice soon had him on his way with a promise to come upstairs and tuck him in. So after a quick hug for me, Mervin bounded up the stairs.

Aunt Janice turned sheepishly to me. "I'm sorry about that, Gerry. I've tried to make Mervin stop doing this but he doesn't understand. I never should have let him start but he was quite so a last year and it was the only thing that made him smile. I thought he'd tire of it, like everything else, but he hasn't yet."

"That's ok, Aunt Janice. I don't mind." I was still a little embarrassed, though mostly because I was still acutely aware of my aunt's chest, and the way it now seemed to fill her shirt so strenuously.

"No, it's not right. I'll speak to Mervin about it." Aunt Janice started to get up from the couch but I put my hand out to stop her.

"No, Aunt Janice. Mervin shouldn't be uncomfortable in his own home. It's ok with me and I won't say anything to anybody. It isn't their business." The intensity in my voice surprised me.

Aunt Janice relaxed and smiled. "You're such a good boy." She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and then a hug which I very much enjoyed, especially the feel of her loose breasts pressing against my left shoulder and breast. She pulled away and smiled again, "I told you to call me Janice." Then she was up and gone to tuck my cousin in bed.

I watched her walk away, for the first time noticing how her hips flared out from her narrow waist and how well the black material of her slacks molded over her still shapely buttocks.

Nothing happened the next night which was disappointing because I had been looking forward to it all day. Evidently Mervin only played this game during his favorite show, and it was on only three nights a week. I found this out the next night when the show came on and Mervin began to play as soon as the first set of commercials started.

At first, I kept my eyes averted but then turned to look. I thought Aunt Janice would be embarrassed or angry but she simply put her hand down by her side on the couch to grasp mine, squeezed it and smiled, her face wearing an apologetic expression, mouthing a silent, "Thank you."

I was surprised. My aunt clearly appreciated my effort to not disturb their life, at least, not to disrupt Mervin's life, and evidently felt slightly indebted. I lost my shyness in watching Mervin play. Over the next two sets of commercials, I openly watched as he giggled and pushed his mother's breasts around. In between, I even took longer glances at my aunt's breasts, not bothering to hide my looks. Aunt Janice didn't seem to notice but she must have been aware of my gaze.

During the last set of commercials, Mervin got a little carried away. In his excitement, he pushed his mom's breasts around quite roughly.

"Mervin," I rebuked my cousin loudly. "Be careful with your mom. Be gentle."

Surprised, Mervin immediately settled down and started to lightly nudge Aunt Janice's breasts instead of mauling them.

"That's better," I said. "It isn't fun for your mom if you play too hard."

I reached across Aunt Janice to pat Mervin on the shoulder but as I withdrew my hand he grabbed it and pushed it directly onto the breast nearest me. Shocked, my hand rested there a second or two before I tried to jerk it back but Mervin held it there, pressed tightly on her breast.

"Don't fight him, Gerry. It'll just make it worse." Aunt Janice's soft voice calmed the panic rising within me.

I relaxed and let my arm go limp. A few seconds later, Mervin pulled his hand off mine. I was about to pull my hand away when Aunt Janice said, "I hope you don't mind just playing along for a minute. He'll forget pretty quick."

Mind? Was she kidding? She had just asked me to touch her breast to make her kid happy. I was certainly happy to keep my hand there as long as she wanted, as long as I could. Mervin didn't pay any further attention to my hand but I didn't volunteer to remove it. Instead, I left it there, unmoving, as if it was frozen on my aunt's breast. When the show started its final segment, Mervin kept his hand pressed against the side of his mother's left breast, perhaps because mine was still resting on her right. So I kept mine there as the show played on.

After a few minutes, my hand 'thawed' and I became began to enjoy the fantastic sensation of my hand fitting like a glove over my aunt's tit and though I tried desperately not to move, my breathing nevertheless caused some motion. I turned to look at my aunt but this time she didn't meet my gaze. She just stared at the TV.

I too focused on Mervin's show. At some point, I became aware of something poking into my palm. Her nipple! Aunt Janice's tit was tightening under my loose grip and her nipple was stiffening into the tender skin of my palm. The tip of my cock tingled and excitement raged through me. I was just getting up the courage to react, to maybe squeeze her breast, when the show ended. Aunt Janice rose quickly and chased Mervin up to bed ahead of her. She didn't come back down that night.

The next two days passed as if they were epochs. I couldn't wait for Mervin's show to come on and yet I dreaded it too. What would I do if Mervin didn't invite me to play?

I waited anxiously for the first set of commercials to start and was crushed when Mervin seemed content to jostle his mother's breasts around on his own. He was gentle, providing me with no excuse to interject for his mom's protection. I was depressed through the next segment, wishing Mervin would get overexcited again during the second set of commercials.

But he didn't. He started quietly nudging Aunt Janice's left breast. My eyes wandered to the kitchen and I was about to get up to make some hot chocolate when I felt a tug on my arm.

"He doesn't want to play, Mervin," my aunt said. "Just play by yourself."

But Mervin, as always, was persistent, tugging harder on my arm.

"Mervin, leave him alone." Aunt Janice's voice grew stern.

Mervin ignored his mom and kept pulling at me. I turned toward Aunt Janice.

"You don't have to Gerry," she said, not looking at me.

"I don't mind, Aunt Janice," I replied, reaching over and depositing my hand lightly on her breast, half afraid she would push it away and half afraid she knew how eager I was to touch her.

Happy, Mervin continued lightly nudging his mother's breast, watching me for a minute but then losing interest. His hand went still as soon as his show started, barely brushing my aunt's breast. But I kept my hand resting heavily on Aunt Janice's breast and after a couple of minutes I let my hand change its shape until her tit was enclosed in my grasp, filling my hand. I turned to look at my aunt. She was staring at the TV.

Slowly, so slowly, I tightened my grip, applying the slightest pressure but still purposely squeezing my aunt's tit. Almost immediately, I felt her nipple poke into my palm. Using as much restraint as I could muster, I gently kneaded Aunt Janice's tit. At one point, she looked over at her son, who was oblivious and focused on the show. Satisfied, she returned her gaze to the TV. She didn't look at me.

I continued my subtle manipulation, relishing in the feel of her stiff nipple poking at my hand, and even began pushing my palm against it, bending it off to the side a few times as I pressed too hard. Aunt Janice never protested but she did look over to see if Mervin noticed twice more and then returned her eyes to the TV when she saw that he hadn't. My cock was rock hard by the time the show had ended. I was glad I'd worn my jeans and not changed into pajamas like the other nights. I felt a little guilty when the show ended and started to mumble an apology about getting carried away when she and Mervin stood up.

"Aunt Janice, I ..."

She leaned down and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"You'd better call me Janice if you're going to do that," she whispered.

I was too stunned to reply and simply watched her body sway as she walked away, not able to focus on any particular feature. She didn't come back downstairs that night which both surprised and disappointed me.

The next night was Saturday. Mervin's show wasn't on until Monday but he was keen to watch another show. As usual, Aunt Janice asked him to get into his pajamas beforehand and asked me if I would help by doing the same, which I did. I wanted to be helpful in any way I could, hoping for a repeat of Friday night on Monday, which seemed an eternity away.

When I came downstairs, Mervin was already seated and sampling the snacks Aunt Janice had laid out on the coffee table. I sat down at the other end of the couch, leaving just enough room for my aunt. Munching on a cookie and sipping from one of the mugs of hot chocolate, my ear was tuned toward the kitchen, waiting for signs of Aunt Janice's imminent arrival. The show started while her seat remained empty. After several minutes and still no Aunt Janice, I noticed there were only two mugs on the table, the one untouched in front of Mervin, and mine. There had also been no sound from the kitchen. Deflated, I realized that my aunt was probably not joining us tonight.

Then I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Turning, I saw Aunt Janice dressed in flannel pajamas walking quietly toward us in bare feet. She stopped to turn off the kitchen and hallway lights leaving only the lamps on the tables at either end of the couch lighting the living room. My aunt looked so soft and feminine as she moved and my eyes stayed on her. She smiled at me as she negotiated the coffee table and sat down between us, the warmth of her thigh delighting me as it's softness pressed against mine.

Aunt Janice watched the show intently though she could hardly be more interested in its silliness than I. My eyes roamed over her pajamas, especially her chest. The flannel was soft, like her, but it performed a more capable job of confining her womanly assets than the turtlenecks Mervin, and now I, preferred. Still, the way her breasts rose and fell with her breathing managed to enthrall and I was surprised by my bold observation and her accommodation.

The commercials started and we all sat and watched. Mervin and his mother the TV, and I her. Nothing happened. Mervin knew this wasn't his special show but I almost sensed that Aunt Janice was waiting for something. Maybe it was just the tension in the air but I convinced myself it was so. During the last commercial before the show started again, I playfully nudged the side of my aunt's breast. She didn't respond but Mervin looked right away. Again, I bumped her breast but this time a little harder, visibly jostling it even through the cover of the thick flannel pajamas.

Mervin answered with a corresponding bump on the other breast. Several more bumps followed, accompanied by a couple of mild rebukes from my aunt, "Boys, boys."

When the show started a moment later, Mervin quit and glued his eyes to the TV but I kept my hand pressed to the side of Aunt Janice's right breast. As the show continued and Mervin's attention became ever more riveted, I opened my hand and slipped it further onto her breast, though still approaching from the side. My fingers cupped the underside, taking full measure of the weight of her meaty swell while my thumb coursed over the top of her stiffening nipple which I could just feel rising beneath the flannel.

"Boys and their toys," Aunt Janice sighed.

Mervin didn't seem to hear her, and she didn't look at either of us, but I read it as a signal that I was free to play. I wasn't shy about applying light squeezes to her tit and rubbing my thumb back and forth across her hard nipple though I tried not to attract Mervin's attention. I didn't want this to descend into a silly game. I wanted my aunt to enjoy my touch as the caress it was, to revel in it as much as I.

And so I changed the game. When the commercials started, I quickly slipped my hand away. Without a prompt to remind him, Mervin didn't renew his attack on his mother's breast. After all, this wasn't the special show to which his mother had limited him, probably so that she could control when his inappropriate behavior occurred.

But as soon as the show started and I could see Mervin immerse himself in it, I slipped my hand back onto my aunt's tit, quickly renewing my squeezes and rubs, and the slow dragging flicks of my thumb across her engorged nipple. I really wanted to fondle her other breast but I was afraid that Mervin would see and want to play too.

They say the grass is always greener on the other side of the hill and I guess the male exploring gene can't ignore the urge to find out if this is true. Anyway, I pushed my hand across to Aunt Janice's other breast, but higher up on the swell of her chest so I could slip in and hide under her flannel pajamas.

Aunt Janice didn't object. Ecstatic that I was able to touch her bare breast without censure, it wasn't long before I tried to slip my hand lower to feel her bare nipple. But the buttoned pajamas prevented me from reaching my goal. Slowly, so I wouldn't catch Mervin's attention, and tentatively, in fear of rejection from my aunt, I moved my hand to mid-chest and fiddled with the top button of her pajamas.

Time seemed to move in slow motion. Aunt Janice's beautiful chest swelled up and down under my hand with her breathing while my eyes were intensely tuned to any sign of attention or rejection. Finally, after an eon, the button slipped through and I felt the lapels loosen. Pulling my hand back a few inches, I immediately slid forward again, underneath, my hand gliding over soft, bare tit.

God. It was exquisite! To feel her turtleneck or pajama covered breasts was fantastic but this was truly divine. The rub of her stiff nipple in the crook between my thumb and finger, the tension of the skin covering her breast, were sensations I never wanted to end. Her tit seemed to throb in my hand. Oh, god. I closed my thumb and finger, pinching her nipple, rolling it between, pulling it back toward me. Fuck, this was so hot. I wanted Mervin to leave. When would this show end? No, it couldn't end. Aunt Janice would go upstairs to bed, like she always did. Please don't end.

The commercials started and I had to stop, though I was reticent to do so. They seemed to drag on forever, probably because it was the mid-show set at the half hour but they went on and on. Mervin never noticed that his mother's shirt was open at the top. He watched the commercials intently. I focused on more important concerns. Could I get another button undone? How could I get Aunt Janice to stay downstairs? 

Just before the commercials ended, I turned off the lamp beside me. Aunt Janice kept her eyes on the TV, as she had all along, but Mervin quickly looked and then turned his lamp off too.

"Like the movies," he laughed.

Seconds later, under cover of darkness broken only by the flickering light of the TV, I slipped another button undone. Although I was by no means adept, Aunt Janice watched the TV as if nothing untoward was happening. I slipped my hand inside her shirt and had my way with her tits. I retreated during the next set of commercials but quickly resumed my attack until the show was over, doing up my aunt's buttons to cover my tracks near the end. I was glad the room was dark. My pajamas did little to hide my huge boner.

"Lights on, boys. Time for bed," Aunt Janice ordered, stretching and yawning. "Come on. Upstairs, Mervin."

I picked up the remote and displayed the movie listings as Aunt Janice and Mervin started up the stairs. "There's a good movie on," I said. "Do you want to watch it?"

"I'm going to bed," Aunt Janice replied.

"It's a chick flick," I called out.

"I'm too tired," she said, shuffling up the stairs behind Mervin.

Though momentarily crushed, elation soon returned. What an incredible night. I was sure I could repeat this Sunday night. No need to wait until Mervin's show. In fact, it would be better to avoid his show so I could play with Aunt Janice all on my own. I just needed to get her to stay downstairs after he went to bed.

I was watching the start of the movie and about to touch myself when I heard her coming down the stairs. Was she just getting some tea for bed? Had she forgotten something?

If my boner could have become harder, it would have. I was again glad for the darkness when Aunt Janice sat down on the couch, beside me. Not at the other end now that Mervin wasn't there, but right next to me.

"Is it any good?" she asked.

"Yeah. I think it's a good one," I answered, putting my arm behind her on the couch.

"I don't think I've seen this one," she said, nestling into the couch and even snuggling my way a bit.

I didn't answer. I didn't want to talk. I wanted her to settle in and watch, leaving me to my own interests. She seemed happy to do that and before I ventured to continue our little game, she reached behind her left shoulder and pulled my hand tighter around her neck, expelling a satisfied sigh as her eyes intensified on the screen. I slipped my free hand down to her front and began undoing her buttons, making no attempt to hide my action. I continued right away to the second and then, with a little trepidation, I unfastened the remaining buttons.

I stopped to enjoy the sight of her shirt completely undone, slightly parted all the way down the middle to reveal her skin underneath in the flickering light. She lay there waiting, chest rising and falling smoothly, moving in concert with the smooth oval of her navel riding on her small but almost forty tummy. I slipped my hand inside.

Within five minutes I pushed the pajama lapels back, exposing her breasts in the twilight, nipples stabbing up, reaching for more of the twisting, pulling, rubbing attention that they had experienced more of in the last two hours than in the previous ten years. Her only move in response to my lowered head was to stretch her neck up and to the side so she could keep watching the movie. I sucked her nipple in, a long worshipping suck, squeezing it against the roof of my mouth and then pushing it out with my tongue. Oh, the sweet sound of my aunt's moan, the exciting sense of her acceptance.

I sucked and sucked her tits, right through the commercials. Her eyes closed when the commercials started and didn't open when the movie started again. Eventually, while sucking her nipple deep into my mouth, I let my hand wander down over her tummy, over her deep navel, and onto her flannel pajama bottoms. I followed the dip into her pelvis and then the rise of her pubic mound. Resting my hand there, unable to proceed further because of her tightly closed legs, I let her tit fall from my mouth, leaving only a fine strand of saliva to connect us.

"Open," I whispered.

Her thighs squeezed tighter and her knees rose as her toes pushed her heels up from the floor, tensing the muscles in her legs.

"Open," I gently commanded.

Slowly, she relaxed, her pelvis seeming to spread but her legs didn't open.

I waited, patiently, my hand poised above her closed crotch. I remained silent.

Like creaking doors to an ancient tomb, her thighs gradually parted. I didn't move until they stopped and then slowly, confidently, I pushed my hand over her mound and pressed my fingers into the damp flannel covering her pussy.

Aunt Janice moaned loudly. My mouth closed over her tit and sucked her nipple hard, pulling it deep into my mouth. My hand began to move, following an oval path, tracing her pussy lips, fingers pressing, rubbing. Little by little, I increased my pace, following the same ground, pressing in harder, pushing the wet flannel between her pussy lips, pressing the heel of my hand down hard onto her clit. Soon, I was rubbing her aggressively and she was moving her hips frantically, thrusting against my hand, thighs clenching, moaning loudly.

I dropped her tit from my mouth and tried to kiss her but she was too far gone. I hugged her, pressing my cheek to hers as her arms flew around my shoulders, pulling me tightly to her, incredibly tight. Her legs were now clamped around my hand and my movements were pulling her whole pelvis around. I could feel her fucking her pussy at me, desperately seeking release. Finally, it came, in one long spasm that I thought would break my wrist. Then she fell, limp into the couch, almost like she had passed out.

The movie continued. My breath, and hers, returned to normal. I alternated between listening to her breathing, to the movie, and for any signs from upstairs that would signal we had disturbed Mervin.

Aunt Janice didn't speak. Was she waiting for me to go so we wouldn't have to face each other? Perhaps, but I didn't want to leave. She was so beautiful, laying there, her shirt apart, breasts heaving and nipples still hard, legs open with my hand flopped between, draped over her covered pussy. Aunt Janice kept her eyes closed.

I was still incredibly horny. My cock was super hard, pushing up against my pajamas hard enough to form a circus tent. I looked down at my hand and slowly dragged it up, over her now wet flannel. She pulsed against me as my hand scraped by, still sensitive. My palm reached the bare skin of her tummy, followed by my fingers. I paused there, loving the feel of her warm skin.

Then, abandoning the course I originally intended to pursue, to play with her breasts, I slipped my hand downward again, but this time my fingers dug underneath the flannel pajamas and moved quickly across her increasingly warm skin, over her wet mound and back to its original position, cupping her pussy.

"No," my aunt whispered.

I didn't move.

"No," she repeated.

I twiddled my fingers, just barely.

"Don't," she said, more quietly.

My fingers continued to move, gently, slowly, inserting themselves between her soaked lips. Moving, rocking, side to side and just a little bit up and down.

There was no sound from my aunt.

More quickly now, my fingers loved her pussy, taking command, not afraid of the squishy liquid sounds that rose above the low, approving moans now emanating from Aunt Janice's throat.

There was no objection when my fingers first dug inside, exploring the wet, pink hole within. I pressed my lips down to her mouth. This time, her face reached toward me, her arms encircling my neck to pull me down. Her body arched up in ecstasy as my tongue filled her mouth and my fingers dug further inside her pussy. She went rigid as my hand began moving, my fingers frigging her cunt.

When the kiss ended, she slumped back into the couch, surprising me when her eyes opened, looking up first to my excited face and then down to my equally excited cock poking up beneath my pajamas. My aunt reached across with her left hand, squeezed under the elastic of my pajamas, and took hold of my almost bursting hardon. Her wild eyes returned to my face as her hand began jerking my meat, demanding a response, her small fist closing tightly over my shaft. Quickly, we both increased our pace, panting loudly, gasping for air, somehow matching our strokes. I twisted my torso, slipping my cock between her tits, her hand still yanking as my spurts burst onto her chest, splashing on her neck and the bottom of her jaw. I groaned, only dimly aware that she was moaning too, cumming for a second time.

We kissed, and hugged and nuzzled for awhile. Nothing was said. We just stayed close. After awhile I got up and we both walked upstairs, holding hands, and went to our respective beds.

The next night, after Mervin went to bed, Aunt Janice came downstairs to watch a movie with me again. I had turned the lights off, which Mervin hadn't copied me on this time, and was waiting, my eyes on the TV. I was surprised when she sat down next to me, right beside me again, but wearing a full length robe. What was this?

As Aunt Janice started to watch the movie, I tentatively moved my hand to her robe, a little unsure of myself. But she didn't object as I tugged the belt loose and I almost cried aloud in glee when I parted the robe and found my aunt beautifully naked underneath. The unkempt bush that I had assaulted so long the night before was now neatly trimmed and I couldn't help ignoring her tits and moving directly there to cup her bare pussy in my hand. She laughed, amused by my eagerness, my lack of guile.

"Like that, do you?" she asked huskily, smiling as her hand reached into my pajamas, slipping over my head and down my rigid shaft.

My head lowered to suck her tit into my mouth as my hand rubbed her pussy. In response to her long, sighing moan, I whispered, "Like that, do you?"

After that, we were busy. Her stroking, me stroking, me sucking. After she came, I continued to kiss and suck her nipples, my outstretched hand having never left her pussy. Her hips once again began to react in time to my digging fingers and my own cock reached toward her chest, as if in anticipation of last nights spillage through her tits. Aunt Janice used her free hand to pull my pajamas down over my hips and ass to my thighs. I twisted more toward her, reaching toward her breasts but was surprised when she ducked down and took me into her mouth.

I couldn't help thrusting. In and out. It looked a little uncomfortable for her but I couldn't stop and I was relieved when she adjusted herself to somehow accommodate me better. I pulled back suddenly when I felt I was about to explode, partly because I was afraid to loose a blast right into her mouth and partly because I didn't want this to end yet.

Looking down at my fingers shoved into her pussy, I used my free hand to push her leg up. Aunt Janice pulled her other leg back in a matching movement. I dropped my hand down to manipulate her clit while I continued pushing the other in and out of her, working further and further inside her slippery lips. Soon, I hand several fingers inside her cunt and Aunt Janice had closed her eyes. She was holding her legs back, hands behind her knees, to keep herself spread and open for me.

Looking down, a new idea popped into my head. Kneeling against the couch, I lowered myself until my cock was near but I didn't move until I suddenly pulled my fingers out of her pussy, grabbed my cock and quickly shoved it into her cunt. Her eyes flew open as I pushed into her surprisingly tight channel. She was tight deep inside. When was the last time she'd been fucked?

She didn't say anything to stop me. I was already in, after all, but I knew she hadn't wanted things to go this far. But she didn't say no or don't or anything, or even try to impede my progress. It was just the look on her face.

That changed after I finally got all the way in and started to fuck her. She closed her eyes again and I could tell she really loved it. I sped up and really had at her until I felt like I was about to come. Slowing, I pulled out and twisted her to lay lengthways on the couch, more comfortable for her, then pushed her legs back and tilted her ass up toward me, entered and again really started down on her. Our first incredible fuck. I slowed to a stop several more times before having at he again until eventually I loosed my seed inside her with a huge gasping groan.

After recovering, I gathered her robe about her and pulled on my discarded pajamas, turned off the TV and followed Aunt Janice up the stairs. She seemed to understand when I followed her into her room. She simply closed the latch she used so Mervin couldn't wake her up too early in the morning. When she came out of the bathroom I was laying on my back in the middle of her bed, cock standing straight up. That faint smile played across her lips as she walked calmly toward the end of the bed, climbed on and walked deliberately forward on her knees, straddling me until she was poised above my cock. Her smile widening only sightly, she lowered herself down, slipping like a tight glove over my cock.

I fucked Aunt Janice every night for the next two weeks. She was the most awesome woman I had ever been with in my short sexual career by a long, long shot.

Then my Mom came for an unannounced visit.