Aunt Angela’s Nightmare

And then we kissed again, slowly and deeply, running our mouths over each other's faces and kissing cheeks and noses and ears. And as we did this my hand went slowly down Angela's prominent ribcage and abdomen and across her satin knickers where I cupped her vulva in my palm and gently squeezed and stroked and squeezed. I could feel her pubic bush and labia through the silky material and I could feel her hot breath on my cheek.

'Don't stop,' she choked out and I responded by slipping my hand under the waistband of her knickers and stroking her hairy cunt, slipping a finger between her outer labia and sliding into the sopping velvet depths. I had worried about lubrication. Some women, I knew, don't lubricate well after the menopause and I had come prepared with a jar of Vaseline in my wash bag. But that clearly wasn't required. My aunt arched her back as my middle finger entered her and placed one of her hands over mine, pressing down, urging me further inside. I added another finger and she moaned and bucked her hips. Her vagina was soaking with juices and she was clenching her muscles against my intruding fingers. The experience was erotic in the extreme and I was aware of my erection, uncomfortable in my boxers, and leaking fluid into them.

Taking my hand from inside her knickers and rolling away from her, I stripped off my shorts and my erection, unfettered, sprang into the air. I knelt up and took the waistband of her panties in both hands and Aunty Angela raised her bum off the bed so that I could pull them down past her stockings and discard them on the floor. She stated at me from the bed, her legs parted and her hands on her breasts, ready and willing. I parted her legs further and knelt between them, lowering my head to her juicy, hairy snatch. The scent of bath salts mingled with her musky, meaty secretions and I lapped her juices up and sucked on her labia and drove my tongue as far into her as I could get. Angela was almost crying, her fingers tweaking her breasts, her hips moving up and down, pressing her cunt against my face and sliding it up and down. I sought her clitoris, licking her inner lips and finding the little nub in its delicate hood. I touched my tongue to it, then gently rasped my tongue up and down and Angela came, her head thrown back, her mouth open, trying to suppress a great scream of pleasure.

I didn't wait for her orgasm to subside: taking my cock in one hand and supporting myself over her with the other, I found her vagina and thrust all seven inches of my rigid meat inside my aunt's cunt. She screamed again, her breath ragged, saliva at the corner of her mouth.

'How does that feel?' I asked, softly, looking down at her.

'It's big, David' she gasped.

I started a slow in and out movement, going down on my elbows and kissing my lover's lips and neck. She hooked her calves over mine and flexed her hips to meet my thrusts, her hands on my shoulders, the nails digging in harder than ever.

I could have slowed right down and made it last longer but we had the whole night ahead of us so I kept up my rhythm and felt the tendrils of climax snake through my testicles and creep up my spine. The orgasm, when it hit, was so intense I almost forgot where I was and what day it was. Wave after wave of almost excruciating pleasure wracked me and I spurted my hot spunk five, six, seven, eight jets into my aunt's sopping pussy. Then I was done.

I lay on top of her for a while, still on my elbows, getting my breath back and regaining my senses.

'Was that ok, David?' she asked, quietly.

I took a deep breath. 'That was the most intense sex I've ever had,' I said, simply. 'It was unbelievable.'

'You made me come twice,' Angela said, shyly.

'Twice?'

'Yes, I came when you did but I don't think you noticed. I didn't scream or anything that time. Oh God, you don't think anyone heard us do you? We're supposed to be an aunt and his nephew. Goodness knows what people will think if they hear me screaming like that.'

'Nobody can hear us up here,' I reassured her.

'Was it really that good?' My aunt was touchingly insecure. It was an hour or so later and we'd had a nightcap from the mini-bar and got under the duvet together.

'Yes, really.' She snuggled up to me and we kissed and I felt my penis harden and after a few minutes I said: 'I want you again, Angela.'

And she said: 'You can have me again, David.' So we made love again, slowly and tenderly, stroking and exploring each other as I penetrated her and slid my rock-hard cock in and out of her. My Aunty Angela had a remarkably tight cunt for a woman of her years, at least, I assumed it was remarkable, one experience doesn't make me an expert in middle-aged lady's vaginas. So I didn't last very long the second time either and that was a recurring theme in our future lovemaking: unless I slowed down to a crawl, the whole thing was over in a couple of minutes. Not that Angela complained. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We didn't make love for the whole night, as might have been reported in a lurid novel. We both slept, and Angela didn't have her nightmare either. We did make love in the morning and that was wonderful because as I fucked her I could look down on her thin face in the early morning light with its full lips and protruding teeth and feel a great wave of love sweep over me, just in advance of my third orgasm.

Later that morning I drove Angela home and we spent Sunday afternoon in bed, aunty surprising me by taking me into her mouth and sucking me until I was close to a climax. She was showing signs of an insatiable sexual appetite which both thrilled and intrigued me. Why hadn't she found herself a bloke in the last ten years? When I asked, she didn't really have any answer for that. Lucky for me, I suppose. And that's about the end of the story, really.

Epilogue

This all happened in the late seventies. I'm sixty-five now, and a proud grandfather of five. Rightly or wrongly (and it's pretty certainly wrongly, from a moral standpoint) Angela and I continued our physical affair until she was seventy-nine and sex became a bit uncomfortable for her. We had more than twenty years of the most fulfilling and breath-taking sex imaginable. We tried everything! Well, almost everything. Angela never found anal sex very comfortable so we didn't indulge, but she adored bondage and spanking! It's amazing that no one ever found out about us, or even suspected; I was just the devoted nephew. And it wasn't just sex. We were both very much in love with each other. A couple of years after the events in this story I used two of my obscene annual bonuses to buy Aunty Angela's bungalow and gift it to her. I also paid for the utilities and had a phone installed. So for the first time in her life Angela had a bit of money to spend on herself. And the nightmares stopped, suggesting that they were linked to financial insecurity. And in case you're wondering, yes, Angela's still around. She's ninety-five now and in a care home but she's still pretty sprightly and she's got every one of her marbles. I still visit once or twice a month and we chat and I take her out for coffee. And looking back, over the years, if I had my time again, I wouldn't change a thing!

The End