Aunt Jean

He looked a little higher. Her tits weren't bad, nothing to write home about, but her nipples were fantastic, big, pink raspberries, or like those movie theater gumdrops. He thought about sucking them as hard as he could then giving each a few good nipping bites. There were two scars, nearly parallel running diagonally from the side of her breast up across part of the top of her left breast to the center of her chest near her collar bone. They were noticeable but not deep ugly scars, just 1/4" wide, slightly raised, streaks of whiter shiny skin. There were more noticeable ones on her right side ribs, four or five, a couple deep and short, the others longer, four inches long or so. There was another three incher at the spot where her right arm joined her shoulder, and three low on her abdomen to the side, two pretty long and one that was a good 8 inches long and wide. That looked more like a surgical scar though, the same with one on her abdomen.

He looked at her face. Except for the freaky eye, it wasn't Aunt Jean, it was some... some extremely hot mom... no, she looked hell of a lot younger than any of his friends' moms... more like that young couple with the baby down the street, that chick was very hot too, no... no... Jean looked like some hot college chick, yeah... a very hot, slutty college chick. Oh fuck! Oh jeezuz! He felt the urge to shoot his wad. He shut his eyes and just squeezed the head of his dick. He waited a few moments then opened his eyes. Aunt Jean was trembling now. He looked at her ass again, her cunt, her tits, then her face. Probably from a jerk of her head, her hair was covering her freak eye again, and the good one was locked on his cock.

Ron shoved his jeans and underwear down to his thighs then began giving himself slow squeezing strokes. He didn't want to shoot yet. Jean's panting grew faster, louder. He looked at her face again. She licked her lips, then her eyes shut tightly for a moment as she shook then twitched three times. He gazed at her cunt and asshole. Her fingers shoved deep, then slowly twisted side to side. At her cunt three fingers were now swirling on her clit and slit. Her pink labs were glistening wet, as was her relatively small patch of very thick pubic hair. It looked like fur.

Jean's eyes shut tight again. "Mm... mm... mm... uh... OH!" Her head flew back, arching her neck. She felt her body go out of control. "OHHHHH! UH! MMMH!" Her fingers kept twisting in her ass, the ones at her clit were rubbing frantically. It was a blur of motion.

Ron's body went rigid. "ARRH.... FUCK!" His cock surged, the tip began spewing a half dozen streams, arcing up then landing on her bed sheet. The second shot sent the most jiz out, it landed less than a few inches from Aunt Jean's ass. He still gripped his cock and it stayed hard while he watched Aunt Jean peek.

"ARRH... ARRH... AHH!"

Ron gazed at Jean's body convulsed for ten seconds, then her hands slowed, the fingers in her ass pulled out and the ones at her pussy slowed, then only one finger slowly stroked her clit and labia. Her arms shifted and her legs unfolded, she moved on the bed, then rolled onto her tummy. Her body was still trembling as she gasped deep breaths. Her arm move under her. Her head turned to the right, her hair still hiding the disfigured eye. Ron stood there stroking his softening cock just staring at her pouting, perfect, apple ass, and glancing now and then at her finger barely showing between her legs, still playing little slow circles around her pink gem. It did look large. He stayed there for a few more minutes until her hand pulled out from under her. Her body shifted. She pulled up the top sheet and covered herself. She inhaled a deep breath and sighed. It looked like she was going to go to sleep.

Ron took his hand off his cock pulled up his underwear and jeans. In a near daze, he turned off the TV but forgot the VCR, then went to the dresser and switched off the tea lamp. He closed her bedroom door and walked down to his room. When he turned the light on he saw the bottom drawer of his chest pulled open. Two sweaters half hanging out and three of his copied porn vids were laying on the floor. He didn't give it any thought, undressed, got into bed and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Chapter 3

When he got out of bed the next morning he saw the bottom drawer of his chest was closed. He opened it and the sweaters were back inside and all ten of his pirated porn vids.

As with the previous week there was no change in Aunt Jean. They spoke as much or as little as they always had. And as with the previous week the only changes that he noticed were in him. He hung around the house a little more. Whenever he could without her noticing, he'd steal glances or longer looks, or just plain stare at Jean. He was trying to see the hot chick under the dork clothes and behind the big dumb glass frames. He couldn't even imagine how her usually pony tailed hair could be the wild, disheveled, windblown, totally sexy hair of the girl who finger fucked herself in the guest bedroom.

There was another change in him though. His usual getting hard-ons for 50% of his waking hours, increased to 90%. The thing was, he really didn't want to beat off unless he was watching Jean do it too. By Tuesday though, he didn't think he'd make it though the day. After lunch, Aunt Jean drove off to run some errands. Ron had started up to his room to whack the blueness out of his balls, then stopped. He thought about trying something. It was a shot in the dark. He went the kitchen and pulled out one of the tall blue glasses. He set in the center of the kitchen table. He then got his trail bike from the garage and went for a long ride.

He stopped at the vid store to talk to Josh who was working, and rent a couple new porn vids, but the manager was there, so Ron just browsed the racks, even the older DVDs, trying to use up time before going home for dinner. He pretended to read the blurbs on every box he picked up. In his mind he was seeing Aunt Jean, playing with her big pink clit, or fucking her ass with her fingers, or the vision of him doing those things and more with his cock. When he mounted his bike to ride home and his blue balls pressed against the seat, he thought they were going to explode. When he finally reached home and walked into the kitchen, Aunt Jean was pulling a pan of chicken breasts out of the oven. He looked at the table and frowned. The blue glass was gone.

"You came home just in time, unless you're just stopping in to change clothes or something."

As usual she didn't face him to talk. He looked at her ill fitting bluejean shorts. "No, I'd like to have dinner here, if that's all right."

"Sure. I'll make up a tray for you. Cranberry juice, water, or soda?"

"I'll get it." He looked at her hair. "And uh..." His eyes went back to her ass. "I... uh..."

"Yes?"

"You... uh... eating in the kitchen?"

"Yes, I am."

"I... I'll eat at the table too tonight. If... if that's okay."

"All right. I won't get a tray out." Jean moved to check the potatoes. They were done. "It'll be a few more minutes."

*

He forked a piece of chicken into his mouth. Her good side was towards him as usual. She looked across the table to the empty chair for the most part. "This chicken is really good." It was. She made great meals. He realized he should have told her that a lot more often.

"Thank you." Jean took a quick breath. "This fall you'll been eating in the dorm, won't you?"

"Yeah, Dad thought it was worth it. Room and board."

"When I was in college, it wasn't split up, one price for both."

He kept looking at her good profile and he started to see a hint of the girl on the bed. "How did you like college?" He saw her look down at her salad. It only had a few cut strips of chicken on it. Most of her meals were salads. His brow pinched. She wasn't answering, just lightly poking her leafy greens with her fork.

"It... it was all right I guess."

"Dad said he had a lot of fun, made some good friends, even now stays in touch with a couple guys. I met one of the guys when he was passing through the city on business. Was it fun for you?"

Jean moved two chicken strips to the side of her bowl. "I really enjoyed my classes. I had a good professor in the Ed Department. She really got me interested in teaching at the elementary level."

Ron knew he wasn't the most perceptive guy around, but he realized that answer was a lot of words meaning: No. He wondered if he could just get her to look at him. "Aunt Jean?"

"Uh-huh?" She pushed the tines into a piece of chicken, tomato and spinach. She raised it to her mouth.

"You like salads a lot, don't you?" He watched her chew and there was just the tiniest of smiles on her lips, which was a very rare event. She swallowed and the smile wasn't there.

"Yes, I do. I like to eat light. I eat other things too. Meat, vegetables, the variety. I like fruit a lot. During summer, salads just seem right to me. I guess it's the heat of summer. You eat salad too."

He realize that this was turning into the longest conversation with Aunt Jean since he was a little kid. "Yeah, salads are good." He wanted an answer to a question that popped into his head on the bike ride but didn't know how to do it without her thinking he was talking about her freak eye. "Today riding, I realized that stuff I looked at in the distance was a little fuzzy. I may need glasses. From seeing my friends wearing contacts, that just looks like such a hassle. I hope I'm wrong and don't need glasses. I imagine glasses would be a real hassle too, losing them, that sort of thing."

"You... you just have to be careful."

"I'd hate to have to wear them all time. Do you have to wear yours all the time?" He watched her look at her wide, shallow, salad bowl. She lightly poked at it again.

"No... not all the time."

"Could I try them on?" Ron saw her freeze.

"Um... I... I don't... don't like doing that. I... Someone... someone accidentally broke them once. You should... you should get an eye test, then look at frames the optometrist has on display. Mine wouldn't fit you correctly anyway. I... I don't want the... the temple hinges bent." She stabbed more spinach and tomato. She put it in her mouth and turned her face to the right a little, away from Ron.

So much for that idea. He bet they were just plain glass or plastic lenses, joke glasses. "What grade do you teach? Second grade?"

"First grade."

"I guess you like doing that, huh?" He saw another one of her very rare smiles, just a slight curve on her mouth. He stared at her profile.

"I love teaching. The kids are always amazing at that age. So... so accepting of... of differences in other kids, and... and older people. They're open, frank, in your face with a million questions, and when you hear some of them, you can't do anything but grin from ear to ear before answering. To see the expression on their faces when they finally understand something, they just light up, especially reading is... is... um... well, it's just wonderful to see. I love all my kids, every year, and.... almost cry at the end of the school year, but I don't because I know there'll be a new group in the fall who I'll end up loving just as much."

Jean picked up more salad, chewed it slowly then swallowed. Her eyes swiveled towards Ron for a moment, then looked at her salad plate. She poked the leafy parts. "You're... you're really talkative tonight."

He didn't want her asking him questions, he wanted her to answer his. "Really? I don't know. Yeah, I guess I don't talk much."

Jean held her breath for a few moments, exhaled, took a slow deeper breath, poked her salad a little more, then started getting some onto the tines. She took another deeper breath. "Do... Do you have a girlfriend?" She raised the fork to her mouth, got the greens off the fork and started chewing faster than before.

His gut tensed. "No. No girlfriend." He shoveled a glop of mashed potatoes on his fork and ate it.

"Maybe... you'll meet the right girl in the fall, at college."

He didn't see how he'd figure out how to get his head together enough to talk to any girls he liked and wanted to date and get to know. He didn't know if he'd ever get it together. Even if a miracle happened and he could talk to them without sounding like an idiot, and asked some girl out, that didn't mean she'd say yes. He glanced at Jean and suddenly wondered if she was making fun of him. He quickly ate the last of the chicken. She was the weird one, not him!

He pushed his chair back and went to the sink, scraped his plate into the garbage disposal, turned it on as he rinsed his plate off. He shut off the water and disposal and laid the plate on the countertop. "See ya later. I'm going over to Tom's." He didn't wait for her to respond, but heard her, "All right," as his hand grabbed the knob on the door to the garage.

He was bored as hell at Tom's but they shared a few beers leftover from the party. They drank out in the backyard out of sight while Tom's parents were inside watching TV. They didn't talk much. At 9PM, he said he was splitting.

He drove home, figured he'd beat off after watching some TV. As he slowed at the house, he saw the family room light on. He entered from the garage, going through the laundry room and into the kitchen where the ceiling light was on. He didn't hear the TV or music playing. He looked at the counter and checked the sink. No blue glass. He went into the family area. Aunt Jean wasn't there. Her car had been in the garage and he couldn't remember the last time she had gone anywhere at night. She read books all the time. She did that in her room sometimes at night when he was watching the big TV. He thought about turning that on. He knew before he did anything he'd have to walk upstairs, and check to see if her door was open, which, he realized might mean she was reading.

He left the lights on in the family room and went upstairs. Her door was open, light was spilling into the hallway, not much. He couldn't remember how much light came into the hall when she read. He stepped down to her door. He stopped a foot from the threshold.

Aunt Jean was on the bed, pillows propped up against the headboard, she was sitting, more like slouching, but not as much as she was the other night. She had the blue glass in her hand and she was taking a drink. Her other hand was between her legs. Her legs were folded, knees towards the ceiling, the soles of her feet flat on the bed sheet. She was naked. From the angle he couldn't see her hand but he assumed her finger was again playing with her cunt. He looked at her face. She was still sipping. She wasn't wearing her glasses. Her hair was mussed up, but he saw both her eyes, the half closed one within the disfigured eye socket, and the other good one.

Jean was looking at him over the end of the blue tumbler. Her legs wagged side to side slightly for a few seconds until she lowered the glass and set it down on the bedside table. It dropped to the surface with a - bonk. He could tell she hadn't done that on purpose. Her hand moved to her breast. Her hips squirmed. Her eyes gazed at his crotch. He glanced at the foot of her bed. In the space between the parson's table against the wall with the little TV and VCR on it, and the foot of the bed, there was the wooden chair with the upholstered seat that was usually at the desk. The only light on in the room was the tea lamp on the dresser.

He pushed his shoes off then pulled his tee-shirt over his head. He looked at her face, her eyes were still on his waist or his crotch. He walked over to the chair and looked at her cunt Her middle finger was slowly circling her fantastic large clit. Her other hand was massaging her B minus cup size right breast. Thumb and index finger sometimes tugged her erect gumdrop shaped nipple. Her freak eye was still exposed. Both eyes were on his crotch for sure. He opened his jeans and pushed them down to his knees. His rigid cock sprang out of his briefs. He sat on the chair, and finished getting his underwear, jeans and socks off. He sat up and gripped the base of his cock, then started slowly stroking it as he gazed at her cunt. He noticed an open tube of gel on the sheet at the foot of the bed He reached for it and squeezed some on the head of his dick, then coated his thick member with his slowly stroking hand. Aunt Jean watched.

Her cunt was thickly haired. It really did look like fur surrounding her slit. Her labia were pink and thin, delicate looking. Her thick ankles looked somewhat incongruent with the rest of her slender body but didn't detract that much. He had noticed long ago that her calves were toned and also looked smooth and hairless, not really shaved, but hairless. You couldn't even see pores. He knew she shaved them though, he had seen her take out a lady's razor from a grocery bag last year. The fur was intriguing but he wished it was shaved bald like chicks in porn vids.

He stroked his cock a little faster and she did the same with the two fingers circling her clit. He thought about how her legs were the last time, and he remembered another of his porn vids. A guy at the side of the bed, the girl's ass at the edge of the mattress, the guy folding her legs back, kneeling then tongue fucking her cunt. The girl loved it, after a few minutes she had an orgasm, then the guy stood up, kept his hands holding her legs back, the girl greedily grabbing his cock and pulling it to her cunt, the guy nudging it in, then fucking her so hard her body jerked with each thrust.

Ron slowed his hand and finally just squeezed his rigid prick for a few moments, then let it go as he stood. He picked up the chair by the back and moved to the side of the bed a couple feet from the edge of the mattress. He sat down. His voice was a raspy whisper, "Show me your cunt." He didn't look at Aunt Jean's face. He stared at the spot where he wanted her cunt to be, at the edge of the mattress.

Surprisingly, Aunt Jean started moving, wriggling and sliding on the sheet, her hand dragging a pillow along. She turned so her crotch was in front of him but not at the edge of the mattress. She assumed the same pose she had been in, legs folded, knees up, feet flat on the sheet, her thighs open. Her wet slit and fur patch were closer but not as close as he wanted.

They both kept working their organs. Ron kept staring at her clit. It was as large as the end segment of his little finger. He didn't think a clitoris could be that big until he saw one like it in a porn vid. It was magnificent. He wanted to feel it with his tongue, wanting to kiss and suck it, wanted to drive her as nuts as she had by herself a few days ago. It took him another minute to reach the point where he needed to lick and taste her pussy no matter what. His mouth was actually salivating.

He let go of his throbbing prick and stood again. He moved to the edge of the bed and leaned towards her pushing his arms between the backs of her angled thighs and calves. His hands palmed and gripped the tops of her thighs near her torso. He looked at her face and there was a mix of fear and anger at least in her good eye. Her hands moved and her palms pressed into the mattress to stop herself from moving. In one swift movement he yanked her towards him so her hips were at the edge of the bed, then his hands moved behind her knees. He quickly folded her legs back so her knees were very close to her shoulders as he shoved the chair back with one foot. The chair bounced back and fell over. He knelt down, and a moment later his mouth covered her wet cunt and his tongue was laving over her pink, slippery labia and her firm, incredibly large clit.