Aunt Catherine

I tiptoed in, and stood still, maybe six feet away. As I watched, wondering how those testicles don't get crushed by guys as they move about and eyeing his in the process, almost suddenly his penis grew! And grew! Without any prompting by him, it surged to its full size and like a fat snake, swelled and straightened. I was mesmerized, never having seen how that happened on its own, with him still asleep! Feeling I was seeing something so private I had no business seeing, I backed off, tried to ignore it, but couldn't suppress my fascination, so snuck back to hallway. I turned back to the still-partly-opened door and just watched. For several minutes, I gazed, seeing it bounce a bit on its own.

I realized I'd pressed my hand against my crotch, just as his own hand moved to grasp his erection, holding it, then starting to stroke. Was he awake, deciding on a morning masturbation? Maybe he was still sleeping, a dream leading his hand? In either case, I was split between shock and embarrassment, fascination at his cock and the scene versus realizing I was invading his privacy in no uncertain terms. My conscience took over and I backed off, tiptoed to the kitchen, and calmed my beating heart and heaving chest by making breakfast. I think I managed not to be too flustered by the time he appeared.

Steve, back:

Catherine was in the kitchen again, coffee ready, a batch of muffins cooling on a rack, still warm and smelling great.

"'Morning, sunshine!" she said cheerily. "I was going to wake you so you could get a muffin straight out of the oven, but, ah,... (and she paused)... I decided to let you sleep in," she said. As she brought me a muffin on a plate, I could tell she was blushing, and agitated.

Oh damn, I thought. She came to wake me, saw me naked on the bed and came back to the kitchen without closing the door! Shit, I hope I hadn't grossed her out - and what if she came up while I was jerking my stuff?! Fuck, no won der she's blushing! How to handle this - act like nothing happened? Maybe nothing did. Apologize? Again, for what?

I decided to go with the nothing happened option, and that seemed to work. We finished breakfast and she said she wanted to do some gardening, so I volunteered to help, and we went and changed into grubby clothes to work in the dirt. I didn't have much of a gardening wardrobe, so just put on some running shorts I didn't care about and a t-shirt, with hiking boots - from a fashion perspective, likely comical, but we weren't going to do fashion, or comedy. She came out in denim cut-offs (you could tell they were real cutoffs from well used jeans, not bought that way), cut pretty short but shy of intentionally hot, with a halter top that tied behind her neck, leaving her shoulders bare and promising nothing underneath. I was happy to work with her and to check out whatever cleavage might present, and we got to it.

The day was already warm when we headed outside, and without much thought, I tossed my t-shirt aside, knowing I'd be getting it dirty if I didn't. I realized at once that she was checking me out and hoped that she didn't think I was stripping for her benefit, or, more like I hoped that she did think that.

"You've been working out," she said, standing with her hands on her hips, clearly taking in the scenery, smiling. "Whenever you get around to that relationship thing, you're liable to be making some young lady very happy."

Well, that's a bridge crossed, I thought. She was practically flirting with me!

"I don't know about that, but I'd say the same for whoever is in that pool whenever you decide to get back in," was the best I could come up with - lame, but returned the compliment, and got another blush - great thing about blondes with pale complexions that they blush so visibly!

We worked well together, her directing since she knew what she was doing (and I didn't), but both of us ending up dirty and sweat-soaked. I can report that she, in dirt and sweat, was gorgeous. Her breasts pressed against the halter top, which I wished had been light colored and thus sheer, but alas wasn't - something of a bandana pattern. When finished and tools stowed, we rinsed off our feet and dried them with old towels she'd put out, then proceeded inside and showered, also alas, separately, meeting again in the kitchen once cleaned up, for cold beer. The rest of that day was unremarkable, but I was smitten, horny, and couldn't clean up my dirty thoughts, yet had no business, or maybe hints of business, maybe.

That night, I intentionally left my room door open a good foot or so. I knew that a direct line from Catherine's bedroom, connected to her bath anyway, to the kitchen would not take her past my room. If she watched, it would make it easier on her. If she wasn't, nothing ventured, nothing gained. The next day was a national holiday, so I canceled my wake-up alarm.

Having done that, it seemed to take forever for me to get to sleep, my thoughts running from one fantasy scenario to another, all involving her at the door, then her seeing me naked and aroused, then her coming into my bedroom, with various antics resulting. When I finally drifted off, I guess it led to nice dreams, because I woke up the next morning, a Sunday, naked as usual, my hand already around my engorged pole, the remnants of a dream receding where I was being hand-stroked by Catherine.

I stopped my hand, not wanting to mess up the sheets and surreptitiously opened one eye just a tiny bit. I thought I could see a shadow in the dark hallway. It was just at sunrise, so it was only shadows, and maybe my imagination anyway. If I was imagining, and she was still asleep or even already in the kitchen, there was no harm in quietly calling out. If I was right, I might even get company!

"Come on in, I won't bite," I said in a voice loud enough to be heard in the hall but I hoped not so loud as to wake or disturb.

Suddenly, there was a clamor in the hallway, then a crash of furniture or something! I leapt out of bed and ran to the door to find Catherine sprawled on the floor face down, a small table that was always next to the wall near my door toppled next to her. She was in that t-shirt nightgown thing, the hem of it up to her waist, exposing her thighs and ass, and as I took it in, the rest of her! Naturally, I looked, who wouldn't, but I was worried, too, despite her legs looking great and her pussy barely visible but amazing, framed by the comic sprawled posture.

Worried she might have actually hurt herself, my thoughts of seduction vanished, and I knelt down to her on one knee, touching her shoulder, asking "Hey, are you ok? Does anything hurt or feel broken?"

"Only my pride, she said, rolling over toward me. The result was she looked up and saw first my now down to two-thirds-hard cock, above its ball sack, swaying or whatever in the breeze. Above that was my worried face looking down at her from my kneeling crouch.

We both froze at that point. She was busted - apparently my calling out spooked her looking in, she'd spun to flee, and crashed into the table. I was naked, pointing my still pretty hard dick at her face - hardly a proper appearance by a guest boarder and nephew. And to top that off, she was naked from ribs on down, and having turned toward me, I couldn't help but look down and see the downy light brown curls between her thighs. Seeing my gaze, she realized what the shirt hem had done and struggled to pull it down to a modest level. That done, there was nothing either of us could say that would make the embarrassment of the moment go away. I was still kneeling as she leapt up and fled to the kitchen.

Catherine, as in mortified:

Later on, Steve and I had taken in a movie, passed an evening chatting over wine, and worked in the garden, all uneventfully. I got the opportunity to check him out a couple of times - in his sweatpants one time, and working in the garden in shorts. I knew, but it was exciting to be reminded, of that member he carried around, and soon I was thinking about it every time I saw him.

I thought I was just having an innocent fantasy and that it would have no real effect, and was even getting a little flirtatious. No harm done to anyone - we were turning into good friends in the bargain.

Then on that Monday morning, I didn't know if he had to work or not, due to the holiday, so I went to wake him in time to get there. His door was open a good bit, and there he was again, that big cock emerging from his fist, but the fist not moving and his head facing me with eyes closed, his breathing even. I've heard about wet dreams but don't know if they happen if a guy is self-stroking in his dream, or if they can come on (so to speak) without any added friction. I was fascinated to see what would happen next. Would he start stroking, or in his sleep just roll over and end the episode, or maybe even he was awake after all, just enjoying the erection and getting ready to spurt, a sight I definitely wanted to see.

Whatever, that thick appendage was several inches above his fist and looking purplish, and I was rooted to the spot - again so to speak, I guess. As all that was going through my mind, he said softly, "Come in, I won't bite." I freaked, caught in the act, ashamed, and panicked. I started to run, I guess, as I turned, and had forgotten about the small table in the hallway. My spin took me across the table, scattering its nick-nacks and resulting in my lying face down on the floor, the table somewhere, I wasn't sure.

Still panicked and out of ideas, I froze. It was only seconds before Steve was at my side, his hand on my shoulder, asking if I was all right. I was mortified. I rolled over to say that I was ok - I was anything BUT ok. And found myself inches from his penis in front of my face as he knelt to my aid. He was still naked, of course, and I think his erection hadn't had time to detumesce. I on the other hand was getting what I started after - a really good look at his privates! I just looked, not moving, seeing the tip of that big thing mere inches from my face, and I recall I was tempted to reach out to it and - what? hold it? kiss it? take it into my mouth? That impulse was so strange and foreign, but the sight of it was primal and beckoning. On the other hand, my rational self was mortified and screaming flee, flee!

I don't think either of us knew what to do then - we were both busted in a fashion, but me much moreso!

At that point, I realized that he was looking at my legs, and that led me to realize that my shift hem was up around my belly! I squirmed around, managing to lower it to mid-thigh, then scrambled up and fled the scene, leaving him to any cleaning up he needed to do - I was not about to worry about tables and nick-nacks at that point. Getting back to the kitchen, I wheezed a sigh of relief that at least I was not still naked on the floor with something broken. Then, naked? I knew I was panty-less underneath the shift and could guess how much I'd revealed to him while I was sprawled - oh, no! Adding embarrassment to embarrassment, how could I face him? My mind raced through options as I fiddled my way through making coffee and tossing some bread in for toast.

Steve:

Still on my knee, I watched her run toward the kitchen. I wondered how long I'd zoned out looking at her lovely body and considering the situation. Then I realized I was still pretty erect, since the whole episode, from my verbal invitation to her crashing to my kneeling to her running down the hall had likely taken maybe a minute at most, and my crank had apparently maintained its interest throughout that. With that realization, I knew that in my kneeling position, I was pointing straight at her, and I wondered what all that meant - maybe she thought I was "presenting" myself to her, while I was just kneeling to see if she was ok. If I thought I was going to be evicted earlier, I figured I'd really crossed a line now and might as well start packing.

Majorly bummed, I went back to grab some loose gym shorts and a t-shirt and made my way to the kitchen to face my fate.

Catherine was seated at the table, coffee and toast in front of her, and more of the same in front of an empty chair across from her. Thankfully, there was butter and jam as well, which gave me something to do as I sat down, buttered up, and waited.

"Steve, I think we need to talk," she said. I was mildly surprised she said 'we,' rather than just 'get the hell out.'

"Catherine, I'm really sorry. I don't know what to say..." I started.

"No, I'm the one who should be apologizing, Steve. I have been taking advantage, and what I thought was innocent fantasizing got the best of me."

"Fantasizing?" I said, trying to absorb that an eviction didn't seem to be her top priority.

"Yes. When I woke you last Saturday - that day you had your class canceled? - I opened your door, and you weren't under the sheets. You were naked, the sheets had been kicked off, and you were, uh, erect. I covered you up before waking you, but I have to admit that, between the long time since I've had any relationship and your obviously attractive body and, er, well, your erection - with all that, I should have just exited, but I looked, and then I started fantasizing. About you."

"Really? Well, I... " I started, but she cut me off.

"No, let me get all of this out, then you can answer, ok? This is hard on me, and I just want to finish."

I nodded.

"So, then I started peeking in at your door when I thought you'd be about to wake up, and apparently you do kick those sheets off every night, and every morning you wake up with an erection, and I took advantage of learning that, and I just watched, and watched. Today, you were dreaming, and your hand was on your, ah, penis, and I was outside in the hall watching, and then I guess you woke up and realized I was there, and you said whatever, and when I turned to duck back down the hall, I crashed over that damned table, and then you know what happened, and when I looked up, all I could see with you kneeling there was your erection right in front of me, and I wanted to... do things, but I knew I had no business even thinking that, so I ran back here."

She paused and took a deep sigh, seemingly relieved to have spilled those beans.

"Now that I've said it, I assure you I won't do that again," she continued. "I'll mind my own business and leave you alone. The last thing you need when you're working so hard and one your way to that job next year I'll bet, is for your old landlady to be lusting after you and messing up your whole private life.

I couldn't believe this turn of events. My own fantasies were coming true, and she was the one apologizing for having a dirty mind?!

I sat still for a moment, and realized that yet again, she had gotten me starting to get hard, just taking all that in.

Seizing the opportunity, I took the gamble and stood up, walking around the table to stand 90 degrees to where she sat, so close my shorts were almost touching her shoulder, my tented shorts signaling an obvious condition.

"You were fantasizing about this?" I said, nudging it more obviously against she shoulder, feeling it surge more.

She had been staring, frozen it seemed, straight ahead when I'd gotten up, and now slowly turned to see what I was presenting. My cock was, for the second time that day, in front of her face and hard, but this time shielded by the shorts. I watched her lips part just a bit as she gazed at it.

"I said I wouldn't bite, and to come on in. Don't you realize I've been hot for you ever since I moved in, that you're a gorgeous woman, and that I've been erect all those mornings since that first one because of you, just hoping you'd see me? Just hoping we could do more?"

She stayed silent, but continued to stare at my bulge.

"Go ahead, touch it... please," I said.

She reached up tentatively and pressed her palm, lightly, on the outline. A quiet "oh," escaped her lips. I pressed myself against her hand a bit more. She took the invitation, her fingers now tracing the outline of it, and then finally curling against it, holding it. I was enraptured by the light touch, quivering, realizing I'd need to work to stay in control and not just ejaculate my pent-up desire-come-true.

She seemed still in a trance, and so figuring it was up to me to keep taking the initiative, I took a step back, pulled my t-shirt off, and then bent to pull down my shorts, standing back up naked, erect, pointing at her, my clothes pooled at my feet.

"I've wanted you to look. I've wanted to be naked for you and for you to see how much I desire you," I said. "And I've wanted to see you. I will always appreciate that table you knocked over, for giving me that opportunity. Your shift is wonderful, and it teases me with your body underneath. Falling down let me see the most wonderful part of you, and I want to see that again, and to make love to you. Will you show me? Will you let me?"

Never taking her eyes off my staff, she said quietly, "my room." Then she turned and walked out of the kitchen. I followed, naturally, and nakedly.

She stopped at the foot of her bed and turned to face me. The shift confirmed her nipples were still hard. Without further words, she pulled the shift over her head, then holding it in front of her for a moment, maybe of indecision, maybe to entice, she let it drop. She was indeed gorgeous. Her breasts weren't large, but weren't small, and had the desirable heft of a woman, not more. Her breathing was somewhat labored, which gave the breasts a rise and fall that only accentuated their beauty and heightened my desire for her. Her blush was distinct, going from cheeks all the way down to her chest, pinkened between the white globes, highlighted by the whiteness of her complexion otherwise. I drank in her beauty, wanting to memorize every pore, never wanting to let this fade. Her pussy was behind the curls, the curls light brown, the gap a faint shadow beyond, the thighs together, her hips not bloated but generous.

I stood, likely looking silly, my cock waving in the air. I was mesmerized by the sight of her, by my sudden turn of fortune. I wanted to seduce her, but I wasn't sure who was seducing whom, and didn't care about the power but didn't want to blow it, whether she wanted to lead or follow. Wanting to show her my desire, I kegel-pumped my dick, and was gratified to see her shift her gaze from my eyes to it, and to give just a hint of a smile.

"May I?" I said, closing the distance between us. She didn't move as I wrapped one arm around her waist, the other hand lifting to caress her breast, eliciting a faint whimper. Her nipple was already hard, maybe harder even than my cock that was by then pressed into her belly. Finally, I kissed her, finding her lips and opening to my intruding tongue, then finding her tongue eager to duel with mine inside her mouth. I curled behind her teeth and pulled her to me, and she stroked it with her tongue. For a moment we were immersed in just those tongues, nothing else in our worlds.

I figured to take that lead unless she made a distinct move otherwise, so took her hand and led her back to the side of the bed. Putting my hands on her ribs, I lowered her to sit on the bed, right on the edge, then I knelt on the floor and slowly lifted one leg across my shoulder, then the other. It was obvious where I was going with this, and it definitely wasn't rushing toward intercourse. My upper torso provided a block that both kept her from falling onto the floor and gave me the most access that I could manage.

I kissed each inner knee in turn, then worked my way up, alternating, closing the distance to the center of her responses. I never took my eyes off her face, and she in turn watched my progress, her mouth slackened, the breaths coming through it. Getting close, I paused maybe six inches from my tongue tasting her pussy, and used my fingers to separate her lips. I took a good look at the already-shiny flesh, recognizing the lubrication that was present and inhaling her faint, all woman scent. She leaned back a bit, straight-arms-supported, still watching me, then as my mouth found my target, I gave a slow lick from base to top, parting the lips, and hearing her whimper, watching her then lie back and yield to the sensations.