A Deal with the Devil Pt. 03

Lance advances on her slowly, ignoring her pleas to stop. She backs around the coffee table before dashing toward the open door of the bedroom with him in hot pursuit.

He chases her around the bed once before he finally gets close enough to make a diving leap. They end up sprawling onto the large bed in a heap of laughter.

Lance, the chase only enhancing his already out-0f-control behavior, tries to aggressively undo her jeans. Gwen frantically swipes at his hands before managing to kick herself free.

She just manages to escape his grasp and is to her feet once more, heading for the door, when, in one swift move, he leaps off the bed, and grabs her from behind and easily picks her up. After twirling her around once, obviously showing off, he tosses her onto the bed.

She hits the bed with a thump knowing now he is too fast, too strong, and too agile for her to ever hope to escape. Besides her strength is waning as the initial rush of adrenaline is wearing off.

Nothing left to do now but beg for mercy. "Please, Lance, honey, no more." He crawls up onto the king size bed, advancing toward her slowly with a most mischievous smile stuck on his handsome face, as she sits, facing him, scooting away on her butt. Reaching the edge of the bed, she is trapped, especially since he is between her and the doorway.

"Pleeeassse, Lance."

He stops, the smile disappearing. "Fine. I will stop long enough, to negotiate your surrender, Auntie Gwen." He pauses, extending a hand to her. "Truce."

"Truce accepted," she says formally. "But can we discuss this back on the couch." Being alone with him on the bed is too close to the danger zone for her comfort.

He generously allows that they can negotiate back in the living room. As he helps her to her feet, Gwen smiles, secretly thrilled she can illicit such aggressive behavior from him.

They sit back down on the couch. "I will give you a choice . . . A or B of which way this goes.

"So tell me my choices sweetheart and try to be generous OK."

"Calling me 'sweetheart' I like that. Trying to butter me up, Auntie Gwen?" He refills her glass with champagne.

"I think I have had enough."

"Nonsense, drink now or I resume hostilities," he tells her flatly.

"Fine, fine. You are a tough." She takes a hearty swallow of champagne before speaking again. "So tell me these choices."

"Choice A . . . You submit willing to a nice, sweet massage. No tickling, I promise . . . but you have to totally surrender to me. No trying to swat my hands away, no running away, no verbal protests. In other words, no acts of aggression either verbally or physically."

"Complete surrender in other words," she says before finishing off her champagne.

"Yes . . . complete."

"OK so tell me about choice B."

"Oh that is simple. Choice B is simply you denying Choice A, and I resume hostilities immediately."

She watches carefully as he drains a fresh glass of champagne in one easy gulp while understanding the drunker he gets the more likely he will become even more playfully aggressive with her.

"Well it seems I have no choice but to take A, but can you give me a minute or two to think it over."

"The offer expires in 30 seconds and then I resume hostilities. Clock starts now." He starts counting down in a loud whisper.

"OK if I accept I have a couple small terms myself that you must agree to."

"Tell me. 25 seconds to deadline expiration."

"OK, number one. You have to promise me no more trying to undo my bra and number two, no more trying to undo my jeans. Those guarantees must be . . . ironclad."

"Fine I give you those two guarantees, but no more. Only 10 seconds before the deadline expires."

"OK, I accept," she giggles loving how serious he is taking their "negotiations".

"Now to seal the treaty we both must partake in a bit of smoke from the peace pipe."

"Really, a peace pipe. I don't smoke and I don't see a pipe."

He gets up, striding over to his gym bag sitting in the corner of the living room. Smiling at her, he pulls out a large purple bong and a bag of weed.

"Really, Lance, your damn pipe is a bong. I have not smoked pot since college," she replies wondering just how high he plans on getting her.

Two massive hits later the question is answered emphatically—pretty damn high. She is floating especially after downing yet another glass of champagne to sooth her burning throat.

Lance carefully gives her a nice massage being mindful of his promises to her. She also keeps her promise and does nothing even as his hands glide off her lower back and come dangerously close to her sweet little ass.

Lance, kneeling on the floor next to the couch, uses his strong hands to carefully work his way up and down her back. He feels emboldened when she does nothing after his probing hands come so close to her butt. He is feeling brave enough, or maybe drunk enough to really test the boundaries of their brokered peace.

His hands slide down and glide across her tight jeans giving her ass a quick squeeze. He just could not help himself as he has been staring at his aunt's ass the whole time packaged so nicely in those tight as hell Levi's. Her reaction is instant and unthinking. She turns and swats his hands away as they were going in for a second run.

"Hey, none of that!!"

"Oh shit, you just violated the agreement," he cries jumping to his feet.

"But you were grabbing my ass, Lance!"

"So that was never on your 'do not touch' list. I have done nothing wrong to dishonor the peace we made here tonight," he says striking a formal tone.

"But still. You ca--"

He cuts her off swiftly. "Nonsense, you broke the peace now must pay the price."

He falls on her like a jackal, first easily flipping her onto her back, before molesting with untamed malice her vulnerable bare tummy. She is too high, too drunk to defend herself adequately against this new attack.

She stares up at him, reduced to begging once again. "Mercy . . . please show mercy," she cries and laughs all at once. "I'm sorry . . . you caught me off guard."

"I will show you mercy if you sit up and stop fighting me."

Sitting up she cries, "OK, OK, I submit."

Lance gets up marching purposefully across the room. He reaches into his gym bag and pulls out a roll of white athletic tape. Bouncing the tape up and down in his hand, he crosses the room again with a sly smile on his handsome face.

"You have broken the trust. I wasn't finished with your massage and by all rights I should get to finish."

"Yes, yes you should," she answers in a small voice wondering what he might be up to with the tape.

"But you are not to be trusted. I must do something about those disobedient hands of yours. Put them behind your back."

"You will still honor your earlier ironclad guarantees to me Lance if I submit."

"Yes, of course. I am a man of my word."

Against her better judgement, she meekly submits curiously excited about just how far he is going to take this new little game they are playing.

Lance quickly secures her hands with the tape before settling down behind her. Whispering in her ear, he offers her another game of chance.

"Just to show you I am a gentleman I will give you a chance to get out of this even."

"Even? What do mean?"

"Another game of chance. Same as before, but I will give you even more generous odds."

He stands up and grabs the deck of cards and starts to thumb through them. He removes all of the Aces, three of the twos, and three of the threes. "There I have removed ten of your low cards. Last time it was only six."

"And what about on your turn. Are you going to remove some of your high cards? More than last time?"

"Of course. Last time it was what, one each of king, queen, jack and ten. This time I will give you even better odds by removing all four of my kings, three of my queens, two of my jacks and one ten. Ten high cards in all removed compared to only four last time. Accept?"

"Maybe, what is the wager?"

"Your reward is I set you free immediately. No more tickling. I promise. You will be released free and clear."

"And you promise to behave the rest of the night, Lance?"

"On my honor, Auntie."

"That sounds good, but what am I risking?"

"Only the same as last time. I get to finish the massage and then when it's done you must do something crazy and impulsive again of my choosing."

"Oh is that all? God knows what you could ask me to do next."

"Still unsure. I will sweeten the deal even more. I will let you draw twice giving you two chances to beat me. Feeling brave, Auntie Gweny . . . or scared. The odds are stacked in your favor."

"I am not scared. I accept, but how can I draw being restrained."

"Easy I will draw for you. You have let me see . . . 42 cards just tell me how deep you want the cut by exact number and that will be your card."

She agrees as he carefully shuffles the deck while smiling all the while at her. Again, he has that uncanny feeling he will win even with the odds so stacked against him.

She got a six and a nine on her two tries. He got one of his three remaining tens. Again she loses as he cries out, "Ha now I get to finish my massage and then . . ."

"And then what are you going to make me do?"

"Hmm, have not decided yet. Massage first, then we shall see."

He slips behind her, nudging her forward so she is sitting on the very edge of the couch before starting to knead her shoulders back and forth before letting his hands slip down. They dance across her back before slipping around to trace small circles on her bare tummy and then back up her arms.

He is going slow letting the tension build. Over her shoulders, down her back, and then around her tummy his hands stroke her bare skin. They are slowly rising, all ten of his fingers, to the small rise of her breasts. She begins to squirm sure he has no intentions of stopping, but he does stop, almost disappointing her, just bare inches from her bra . . . before beginning to rise again causing a stirring deep in her soul.

Finally, his fingers travel right up to the edge of her bra before stopping. Moving his mouth to her neck, he showers it with the sweetest and softest of kisses before whispering in her ear.

"You ready to hear the crazy and impulsive thing I want you to do, Aunt Gweny?"

"Yes."

"I want you to put something in your mouth."

"W-what?"

"A surprise. Remember you agreed to this."

"I did," she whispers resigning herself to her fate.

He strides across the room to his gym bag returning with a pair of his spare long red baseball socks.

"What are you going to make me eat your dirty socks, Lance," she asks with a laugh.

"Don't worry they are clean and besides they are not for your mouth but for your eyes. I mean it won't be a surprise if you can see what I am going to stick in your mouth right Auntie Gwen?"

"I suppose not," she murmurs as her vision is cut off by him winding one of the long socks around her eyes.

She thinks of protesting, but knows that is probably just what he wants her to do. She decides instead to surprise him and play along with nary a protest.

He leaves again. She strains to hear where he went. As best as she can tell he went into the kitchen maybe. He is not gone long returning only a few seconds later. "Now on your knees, Auntie Gwen."

She hesitates as her mind makes the connection. Could he? Would he dare? Do the unthinkable. "I said on your knees." He grabs her arm and roughly pushes her off the couch and onto her knees.

"Open your mouth . . . now!!" His voice is rough and tinged with excitement.

Gwen opens her mouth still sure he won't do the unthinkable. But then again this is Lance, who has always been extremely bold and daring, so just maybe he would do the unthinkable. Not knowing for sure just makes it all the more exciting.

Something rounded and moist bumps against her mouth before sliding past her lips. For the briefest of seconds her heart races as she thought it might have been something else . . . other than the innocent banana he retrieved moments ago from the kitchen.

Two can play at teasing she thinks as she flicks her tongue out circling the banana once, and then twice, before sucking it into her mouth. She draws it into her mouth slowly, carefully, before pulling back. Flicking her tongue out, she licks at the banana while making a small moaning noise, and then adding to the fantasy, she twists her mouth around and pulls the banana even deeper into her mouth.

Lance is watching the show—squirming—his cock growing harder by the second when he finally whispers what the hell. She is obviously teasing the hell out of him so why not push the envelope.

He quietly unzips his jeans, and pulls his cock out his eyes stuck on his auntie's wicked tongue circling the tip of the banana.

It's a big banana and Gwen—knowing the effect this would have on poor Lance—takes a good portion of it into her mouth. She moves her head back and forth like the cheapest of hookers giving a world class blowjob taking the banana deeper and deeper into her mouth while adding some exaggerated slurping noises.

Finally, as she can almost hear Lance panting desperately, she bites the banana slowly chewing it. After swallowing it she whispers coyly, "Umm that was good. Are you going to feed me the rest of your . . . big banana, Lance? Please honey . . . I want it sooo bad."

"Oh, yeah," he whispers back. "Open wide."

He moves up closer, slipping his cock up and into her mouth. An unsuspecting Gwen takes it into her mouth before realizing it's the real thing, but by then, it's too late.

Snaking a hand around the back of her head, Lance exerts just enough pressure to keep her head in place. "Come on Auntie Gwen you asked for the rest of my big banana and now you got it."

She tries to move her mouth away, but he twists his hands in her hair forcing her mouth forward while thrusting his hips up. His cock slides deeper into her mouth. By now she only has two choices left: bite it or suck on it.

Her reaction is spontaneous. She begins to suck on it knowing the kind of physical trauma biting would do to him. Slowly at first, with his powerful hand guiding her actions, she is helpless to do anything but play along although there is quite the wicked little plan forming in her mind.

She takes almost the entirety of his six solid inches into her mouth sucking on it vigorously before pulling back.

He allows his cock to just slip out of her mouth for a brief instant expecting she will try her best to resist him sticking it back in. If she does that will be it. He will have taught her a lesson about not teasing.

But then, shockingly instead, she flickers her tongue out, circling the head of his cock three quick times, before she takes him back into her mouth willingly.

The force he was applying to keep his cock in her mouth has all but disappeared as now she appears quite eager to suck on his cock of her own accord.

Lance looks down smiling as she pulls back once more twisting her tongue now under the rim of his head expertly finding the sensitive underside. She dances her tongue over it again and again before taking him deep in her mouth.

"Oh God, that's it Auntie Gwen, suck on it . . . please." Now he is the one begging for something.

Time for the grand finale, Gweny that will teach him a lesson, she tells herself.

She draws him deeper and deeper into her mouth slurping loudly until she is sure he was about to explode especially when he begins to moan loudly.

"Jesus that feels so good . . . I am going to cumm--"

Without warning, just as he was on the verge of cumming, she spits his cock out of her mouth. Jumping to her feet, she barks angrily at him. "Not in my mouth young man!"

A sudden wave of guilt overwhelms Lance as his lust quickly dissipates. He sighs reaching down into his gym bag. Pulling out a small jackknife, he uses it to cut the tape wrapped around her wrists.

Gwen quickly pulls the sock from her eyes, and puts her blouse back on sure that play time is over. She plops down on the couch rubbing her wrists wondering where their relationship stands now that she had his cock in her mouth

Seeing Lance looking so hurt and confused she pleads with him to talk. Retreating to the bathroom, embarrassed and needing to escape, he ignores her pleas to talk . . . that is until she begins to cry.

Hurrying over to her, he tries putting his arm around her, but she pulls back. "Lance I have to tell you something . . . it's serious." It is time finally knows the truth.

In a tearful confession she tells Lance everything. Almost. She condenses the sexual exploits her and Avery partook in with Michael down to one single act of what she called "mercy sex" between Michael and Avery.

After her confession she looks at him trying to gauge his reaction. So far his only reaction seems to be stunned silence. Finally, she reaches out and uses one finger touching his cheek lightly. He turns his face to look her. Seeing the tears in his eyes melts her heart.

"Lance I am sorry. I should have told you a long time ago. You see now why you can't be attracted to me that way. I am your grandmother."

"It doesn't matter. I'm still attracted to you . . . deeply . . . hopelessly . . . without regret or shame. I love you . . . Nana Gwen. Fiercely!!"

He has questions, of course, regarding what really happened the night he was conceived, but decides this is not the time to ask them. He has other issues on his mind . . . like how he just had his cock in his grandmother's mouth.

"Lance," Gwen says interrupting his thoughts. "Your words touch me deeply, but how can a handsome 18 year old boy like you be attracted to his 52 year old grandmother."

"It doesn't matter. I have always been attracted to you and now that I know you are my Nana, if anything, I am even more attracted to you. Look I gotta go pee and think about this for a moment. Try and get it straight in my head."

"Take your time baby. I will be here waiting for you," Gwen replies softly.

Moments after Lance disappears inside the bathroom, Gwen hears an unusual loud crackling noise coming from the fireplace and leans forward staring intently into the fire. There is something happening inside the fireplace.

There seems to be a figure slowly forming inside the dancing flames. Gwen sets straight up on the couch, blinking her eyes in utter disbelief, as a figure steps out of the flames.

It's the Devil. She is dressed in a loose fitting black satin robe. Her left hand has fire dangling from it.

"You are still on fire, Denise," Gwen says staring blankly at her.

Denise looks down, smiles, and shakes her left hand. The fire goes out with a small hiss. "So I was. Speaking of fire having fun teasing your handsome grandson . . . setting his heart on fire only to turn around and reject him? And, oh my, that tearful confession of yours . . . you should win an award for that!"

Gwen, being in no mood to engage in any sort of back and forth with Denise, ignores the question, instead snapping back, "What do you want?"

"Why nothing much. Maybe just to share in a bit of fun with the two of you."

"This is a private party. I don't think you are welcome." Gwen's anger is rising as she remembers how the Devil tricked her those many long years ago.

"You are not happy with our deal from long ago I take it?"

"My son was supposed to live!!" You promised."

Denise crosses the room, like she owns the place, and sits down next to Gwen. Blinking those captivating green eyes at her, Gwen observes how the ensuing 18 years has done absolutely nothing to diminish Denise's beauty. "First of all, I am the Devil . . . the King of Liars no? And you believed me? Whose fault is that may I ask?"