Aunt Jean

*

They were both gasping breaths. She knew her skin was moist, and Ron was sweaty. She had her arms wrapped around his neck. She kissed his cheek and pulled him down. She grinned. He kept getting better and better at making love, so was she. She had just had her second orgasm. First he licked her pussy to orgasm, then he made love tenderly to her, lovingly, slowly, with an underlying passion. They usually got wild, they both loved that too. She was so surprised that sex, making love, making lust, was even better without being drunk. "C'mon, Ron, lie down all the way on me."

He chuckled softly. He kissed her neck, then her temple by her injured eye. She was finally letting him do that without cringing. He pushed up higher with his elbows and grinned as he gazed into her pretty blue eyes. "Whenever I put all my weight on you, you always tell me I'm too heavy and you can't breathe."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah... you do."

"No, I don't. Go ahead. I want to feel all your weight on me."

Ron was tempted not only to lower his weight but push down. His grin grew.

Her eyes opened wider. "Don't push down, just lie down."

He laughed. She was getting to know him. He lowered his chest to hers. He loved feeling her nipples standing at attention against his chest. He slid his arms on the mattress forming a circle around her head. He kissed her temple again. He did like having all his weight on her.

Her brow pinched, then she kissed his neck. "Ron?"

He was stroking his face into her brunette hair. Flowers and sweet herbs. "Uh-huh?"

"Could you... um... get off me. I can't breathe." She started giggling.

He laughed. "You're kidding right?"

"No." Her giggle turned into laughter. "I'm... not."

He raised his chest off her using his elbows again. "As soon as my cock slips out, why don't you lie on me." He gave her soft, perfect, medium lips, not too thin, not too thick, a warm kiss. During it, her felt her pussy and abdomen clench, and his softened cock popped out of her snug, slippery, pussy. They both burst out laughing into each other's mouth. Their faces separated. Ron gazed into her eyes, as his hands pushed under her shoulders followed by some of his forearms. His fingertips acted like combs as he moved her soft hair behind her ears. It was absolutely perfect being with her, in bed, out of bed, and now even out of the house. They had fun after leaving the restaurant. They went for ice cream instead of cappuccinos. They sat at the little tables outside, talking and watching people walking past on the sidewalk. She hadn't been worried about anyone looking at her. At least it had seemed that way to him. It was perfect being with her. He hoped it was the first day of the rest of her life not worrying about people staring at her scars.

He smiled softly. She mirrored it. He gave her face a half dozen soft kisses, then gazed into her sparkling eyes again. His voice was soft and low, "Jean, you're so beautiful."

Her smile vanished and moment later her face scrinched up. She seemed to shrink under him and then her face turned into his neck. "You... you didn't have... have to say that." She tried to hold it back, but she started crying softly.

He felt like an ass. Obviously she wasn't over it. It had been stupid for him to think she was. "Jean... I said that because... because it's true. I... I can see it, on... on the... the exterior of you and... and your inner beauty. Quit... quit crying... I meant it. I think it. I feel it. Look at me." He tried to move but she held him tighter with her arms. "Jean... look at me. C'mon."

"Why... why did you have to say that?" She swallowed and got her tears under control.

His voice was raspy, "Jean... Jean, you're choking me."

She loosened her arms. "Oh... Sorry."

"Jean, c'mon, look at me."

"I need... a tissue. I have to blow my nose."

He almost laughed. She had a way of interrupting him every time he was about to say something important. He knew he should stay quiet, but maybe he was always being too nervous and serious when she cried? He went with the way he was feeling, and he'd be himself. He half smiled. "Jeez... you're a real pain in the ass."

She slapped his shoulder lightly. "Shut up. I am not." She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. And she knew she really was a huge pain.

He chuckled softly, then leaned to his side letting some of his weight on her and reached for a few tissues on the bedside table.

"Urrrhhh.... I can't breathe." She made a fist and lightly pounded his back. She felt like she was on an emotional roller coaster. The entire day had been like that. Again she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Ron started chuckling. He rolled off her and handed her the tissues. His laughter died away. "You know, I... I thought that was... not only the truth, but... maybe even a little romantic. I meant it, Jean. Please don't start crying again, but... I really do think you're beautiful, hot, and wonderful inside and outside."

Jean blew her nose. She didn't see Ron roll his eyes. She wiped her nose a couple times. She cleared her throat. "You... you don't have to say that, Ron." She put the used tissue on the bedside table. She could feel him turning on his side, she turned on her side too, facing him. She gave him a sad, maybe embarrassed, smile. She herself wasn't sure which it was.

He held his head in his palm on a folded arm. "I think you should shut up and just believe me."

"I think... I think you're a very handsome, sweet, hot, young man... and... and a great lover." She blushed.

His hand moved to her knee. He watched it slide up the outside contour of her thigh, to her hip, then her slender waist. His palm continued to the middle of her back and he leaned towards her. His other hand moved from his profile and went to hers. He kept turning towards her and Jean rolled onto her back. He kissed her lips warmly, then once again he gazed into her eyes. Her eyes began to sparkle once more. An intuitive voice in the back of his mind was shouting at him to keep quiet but he ignored it. "Jean... I lo..."

Jean's eyes grew wide, her hand quickly moved and she gently pressed two fingers against his lips to stop him from speaking. "Don't say that, Ron. We... we can't say that to each other."

His hand moved and held her wrist gently pulling her fingers from his face. "I want to say it. Why not? It's the way I feel. If that's..."

"Ssssh. We... we can't say that word. I... Ron, we... we both know this can't go on."

"I'm not thinking about how long. I'm thinking about right now. I'm thinking about how I feel. Why don't you want me to just say that I..."

Again Jean broke in, "Ron... " Her eyes welled yet again. "Please... just... just don't say it. All right?"

Ron frowned and turned onto his back. His arm rose over his head and lay on the pillow.

She thought she had made him angry. "May... may I put my head on your shoulder?"

All he had wanted to do was tell her what was in his heart. "Yeah, sure."

She moved over, still on her side, she stroked his chest with her hand. She was about to speak when he did first.

"Can I ask you something I've been wondering about that I should probably know but I don't?"

Jean tensed. "What... yes. What is it?"

"How old are you?"

She had been holding her breath. She exhaled as she relaxed. "I'm thirty."

"So... so like Dad was... like... eleven when you were born?"

"Mmmm... yes, or... maybe he was twelve. No. He was eleven. Why?"

"I... I was just wondering."

"Did you think I was older?"

Ron finally smiled. "No. I... I thought you were, a lot younger, but... then that didn't make sense with... you know, Dad being in his forties."

"Are... are you saying... um... I act immature?" She wasn't sure if it was a jokey or real question. She held her breath waiting for his answer.

He almost laughed. She had been acting like a weird chick until today. His brow pinched. Was it too early to feel what he was feeling for her? Had it been creeping up on him for the past couple weeks? What was he really feeling towards her? "No. I... I guess I don't think about age with you."

"I... I guess that's good."

"Could... could I ask you something personal?"

She tensed again. She knew he was going to ask something about the accident. People she let in, usually got to it sooner or later. "Is... Is it about... about what happened to me? The... car accident?"

"Huh? No, uh..."

"Go ahead and ask."

"If... if you don't want to answer, you... well... don't."

Jean was still tensed. "All right... ask." She was sure it had something to do with her disfigurement or scars. She wished he wasn't going to ask. There'd been moments, minutes, even hours with him when she had completely forgotten about it.

"Okay... ahhh... how many guys have you had sex with?"

Jean both giggled and started crying. She felt his arm around her back hug her closer.

"Jean, forget I asked. Sorry. Please... ahhh.. don't cry I'm sor..."

She patted his chest. "No... I'm not really crying." She then wiped her eyes. The tears had been a release of tension about his question. He had surprised her again. "I... I don't know if... if I should answer."

His heart sank. Maybe she was totally different when she was in her own house, town, job. "Was... have there been... a...." He exhaled. He couldn't ask her. It would be as if he was asking her if she was a slut.

"There's been one recently and one a long time ago."

His heart sank even lower. "Are... are you still seeing him? The recent one?"

"Yes. He's you." She wasn't sure she should have told him. She thought it might worry him in some way.

"You mean... I'm the first in a... ahhh."

"You're the first in a very long time, Ron. Don't... um... don't get worried about that." She didn't know what else to say or if it would really matter to him.

"God... Jean... I..." He was surprised, then he wasn't surprised at all.

"I... I never thought making love, and... and how intense we've been... I mean, you're a great lover, Ron. I... I never thought it would be this good."

"You're the great lover, not me."

"You're wonderful, Ron, you know you are. And... and you're a wonderful young man, a... a good young man."

"Why do you always have to say 'young.' You're only twelve years older than me."

"Well, because... I don't know, because you're not as old as Frank, I guess."

"Jean... I know I have a lot to... to learn, I'm... I know that."

"It... it seems I've got a lot to learn too."

"I hope... Jean, I... I wasn't being mean tonight. I was... was trying to show you something."

"I know."

He half smiled. "And I was right."

"It's very... very hard for me, Ron."

"It'll get easier with the different things we do this summer, like... well... the party next week, actually more like tens days."

Her entire body tensed. "Party? I... I can't go to a party with you... I... I can't do that, Ron."

He exhaled. "Jean, I proved to you tonight that you can do it. It's just like..."

"Ron! I'm... I'm... I'm your aunt. I can't... we can't go... go on a date to a party!"

He chuckled. "Yeah... well, it's Josh's parents' throwing their yearly 'mid summer' party. Parents... well, they come too, and... so, that means you're going, and... we're going to the mall again. You need a bathing suit, it's a pool party."

"What?! No... Ron, I... I can't. A... a restaurant is one thing, but... I can't go to a party... and... and I can't go swimming, I... I can't do that."

He knew what she meant but he said, "That's no problem, stay in the shallow end if you can't swim."

"That's not what I mean. I... I can't."

"I'm thinking like... maybe an orange bikini, although with your pretty blue eyes... would like light blue be better? Maybe like burgundy? To be different than your eyes? I bet a burgundy would look good with your hair."

"I... I'm not going, Ron. I can't."

"Yes, you are. How late do you think we'll sleep? I like the mornings at the mall otherwise it seems the whole day is shot, but... ahhh... I guess it doesn't matter."

"I'm... I'm not going there either."

"Yeah, you are."

"No, I'm..."

He interrupted, "Turn on your tummy, right now." He held his breath waiting to see if his slightly demanding, yet not mean, tone of voice would still work on Jean.

She felt scared. Things were going too fast. She hadn't shopped in a mall since high school. She hadn't eaten in a restaurant unless it was with a large group where she could be lost in the group and that was only three times. She hadn't been swimming or at a private party for twelve years. Yet so far, with Ron it hadn't been awful. If she had been less nervous tonight it might have been even more fun. Looking back over the evenng, she had enjoyed dinner out for the most part. And now they were making love without drinking and it was beyond wonderful. She rolled onto her tummy. Her mind was reeling. Fear and excitement about so much swirled within her. For some reason her pussy clenched. She felt another tingle.

His hand coursed around her seductive bottom. "Now... do you want a spanking? Or..." He smiled slightly feeling and seeing her buns clench. "... do you want to feel my tongue, then my cock playing around back here." He shoved lower on the bed, he planted a couple moist kisses on her left bun, then his fingers tapped her right cheek. "Hmmm? Spanked because you're being bad about going to the mall and a party? Or my tongue then cock because you're going to be a good girl about it all?" He prayed she'd want his cock this time.

"Tell me... more about the party first..." She felt his tongue drawing wet lines on her bottom. "You... mmh... Ron... Ron? You're driving me crazy with that. We ne... I want to tal..." She felt his tongue slide between her buns. "Mmmhhh."

*

The pleasure was overwhelming any discomfort she had. He had been so slow, attentive, and tender with it so far. She felt the entire length of his lubricated, slippery cock slowly slide passed her hugging anus and probe deep into her rectum. It felt so loving, so hot, so erotic, yet so naughty and weird too. She felt so full of him, even moreso than when he filled her pussy, maybe not more, but filled in a different way. His finger was playing with her clit so wonderfully too. She was taking ragged breaths. "Oh... oh Ron... oh gahhhhd."

He closed his eyes as his throbbing rod finally sunk into her all the way. He knew he'd not be able to last much longer, it just felt too hot, too good. "You like it... my cock... my cock in your hot ass?"

"Yes... oh god... yessss." He had teased her with his tongue on her hot little hole first. He was so good to her, so good. That's what he had called it tonight, her 'hot little hole.'

"It... it doesn't hurt?" His hips swayed, he was still buried to the hilt. Her torrid asshole was gripping tightly around the base of his cock.

"No... it's good... it feels good... naughty... but... but good." She closed her eyes and giggled softly at the incongruity of her words. "Oh god, Ron... this is... this so hot and.... and so intimate." She really did feel the intimacy of it.

"I know... jeez, Jean... this feels... so.... so good." He started sliding back slowly. "I'm... I can't last much longer, it... it... it's just too good."

"That's... that's okay, honey." She shivered from both his sliding cock and his fingers expertly rubbing her shivering clit. "I... I may... peak too. I... I want to feel you cumming in my bottom."

He smiled as he gasped breaths. "Yeah, me too, but... but I wanna last longer too." When just the head was left inside her heat, he slowly pushed back in. Her anus was incredibly tight and hot around his sliding, throbbing cock.

She half grunted, half moaned, "Ohhhh.... oh gahhhd."

He stopped. "Dammit... am I hurting you?"

"No... no, don't stop."

He pushed in all the way, swayed his hips for a few seconds then slowly drew his rod back. When he felt the ridge of the helmet at her sphincter, he pushed in again. This time, Jean pushed back with her ass to meet him. "Oh... jeezuz... Jean... this feels... so good... urrrrh.... Dammit!" Without thinking he shoved the last half of his pulsing cock in all the way. "Arrrh... Jean!" His cock started pumping. He couldn't stop himself from continuing to push and grind his groin really hard against her luscious buns, swaying his prick deep in her ass as it spurted his hot seed.

"Oh god! I feel it! Oh... Oh!" She shoved her hand under her to urge Ron's fingers to restart their rubbing. They had stopped when he started grunting. As she felt the last three surges of his thick cock spewing heat into her bottom, his fingers started moving and a moment later, she peaked too. Oh-h-h-h-h.... OH RON!" Her body started convulsing in freeing, wonderful, erotic delight.

* * *

Chapter 7

It was a few minutes after nine in the morning when Ron rang the doorbell. He had arrived early on purpose.

Mrs. Thompson opened the front door. "Hi, Ron." She smiled. "Come in. I think Josh is still taking a shower."

"Hi, Mrs. T." He stepped into the foyer.

She closed the door. "You can go up if you want. Or... would you like something to eat or drink? We have some croissants."

"Ahh... uh... maybe some juice?"

"Okay. Come on." She led the way to the open kitchen area.

Ron checked out her long toned and tanned legs, then her swaying ass and realized again that Mr. Thompson was a pretty lucky guy. He remembered her in her bikini at last year's 'mid summer' party. His cock twitched.

Mrs. Thompson stopped at the refrigerator and turned her face to her son's handsome friend. "We have orange or apple juice."

"Ahh... orange, please."

"Take a stool at the island. Want a large glass?"

"No, small is fine." Josh's mother was not only very pretty but sort of classy too. He was sure she'd know, which was why he had arrived early.

Mrs. Thompson smiled. "Here you are." She set the juice on the counter in front of him.

"Thank you. Ahh... Mrs. T, could I ask you a... well, it's a..." His mind seemed to go blank. "... a... a girl question, I guess."

Mrs. Thompson blinked. "A... a sex question?"

"Huh? No... ahh... nothing like that. I meant..." He exhaled. Jeezuz. She thought he was going to ask a sex question!

"Just ask, Ron. What is it?" She knew his father was out of town for the summer again, and that his aunt was a little peculiar, at least that's what she had heard from her son.

"It's... it's about, makeovers... ahh... you know, like a girl... a woman going to a... a spa and... and getting a makeover, a... a new hairstyle, that kind of thing. There used to be a commercial on TV a while back, but... well, I mean... do you know what I mean?"

She smiled. "Yes, I know what you're talking about. What... what exactly do you want to know?"

"Do the... haircutters... hairstylists, I mean, if it's a makeover, do they... you know, do they talk about the haircut... the hairstyle with the gir... woman, you know, make suggestions and... and that kind of thing?"

"Mmm... yes, unless the woman has some specific style in mind, I guess."

"Well... I mean, if it's at a spa, wouldn't they... you know, the hairstylist, really... really look at the girl and make suggestions about the style that would look best on her, even if she did have something in mind?"

"I... maybe, yes, I guess the stylist might."

"And... and what else is in a makeover?"

"I would imagine, depending on the spa, or salon, there might be... it might include a manicure, pedicure, sometimes various facial treatments, cometics consulation, and... possibly... if it's a spa, maybe... massages, even mud baths, and the like."