Aunt Max Comes Home Pt. 04

Bill got out of the driver's seat of the pick-up truck and reached behind it to pull out his.22 rifle. He inserted a round into the chamber, checked to make sure the safety was still on, and slowly closed the truck door.

Robbie, meanwhile, was hoisting his own rifle over his shoulder and slamming the passenger door. So much for stealth, Bill thought.

They headed down the path through the scrub woods, closer to the levee. Bill's heart was heavy. This was a confrontation that he didn't want to have, that he had been dreading. But he had to do it. He had promised his aunt. Aunt Max, who he had been fucking.

They had grown up fighting, he and his 18-year-old brother. Harmless punching and kicking and scratching, back when they were just wiry little boys. They hadn't got into a swinging match for at least two, probably three years now. There really hadn't been any reason to. At this point, as long as they didn't fuck each other's girlfriends, nothing else could justify broken teeth and broken noses.

They reached a clearing and settled down on their knees. Robbie was scanning the trees for squirrels.

"Robbie," Bill began, clearing his throat.

"Yeah?" Robbie responded, quietly. He was into hunting mode now.

"Aunt Max told me you hit on her."

Robbie looked at his older brother, a shadow of concern crossing his face.

"I told you you couldn't say anything."

"I didn't," Robbie murmured.

"She said you came on to her."

Robbie looked away. "I gave her a backrub," he responded. "I didn't say anything."

"Well, that was stupid. She knows why."

"Is that why you brought me squirrel hunting?" Robbie asked. "So you can get me out here and shoot me?"

"If I was going to shoot you," Bill scowled, "I wouldn't do it when you were armed, too.

"And I wouldn't use a.22."

Robbie grinned, more out of relief than humor.

"You're an asshole," Bill grumbled.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. She's just so damn hot. And..."

"And knowing that she fucked me, you just had to take a shot," Bill hissed.

Robbie couldn't make eye contact with his big brother. "Yeah... I guess..."

"Fuck you," Bill spat. "You fuckin' let her know." He paused. "She told me I had to make sure you never said or did anything again."

Robbie let out a long sigh. "Okay."

"Okay's not good enough," Bill continued.

"Okay, all right? I won't do it again."

They knelt in silence for a minute.

"Tell me what she's like, then," Robbie said.

"What do you mean, what she's 'like'?"

"What she's like in bed, man. What do you think I mean? C'mon, throw me a bone."

Bill stared at his little brother in disbelief.

"Is she tight?"

"Robbie."

"C'mon. I'm curious. She's just so fuckin' beautiful."

Bill kept staring. But he started to feel a twinge of sympathy for his brother. And not a small swell of pride.

"I mean, Jesus. It's just so hot. You fucked mom's little sister," Robbie babbled. "I can't stop thinking about it."

Bill just grunted.

"I mean... I don't know," Robbie stumbled onwards. "I've never fucked a mom before."

"Yeah. Well, I have."

"Before Aunt Max?"

"Yeah," Bill said, thinking it might be a good idea to direct his brother's curiosity away from their aunt.

"Who?"

"Bess Riley."

"Bess? Tommy Cavinder's big sister?" Robbie asked, wide-eyed. Bess Cavinder was two or three years older than Billy, a former homecoming queen. She had was probably pregnant when they put the crown on her head, because she married Joey Riley at Christmas. And had another kid since then.

Billy just nodded. Yeah, he had fucked Bess between her two kids. Was the second one his? She hadn't said anything, but he had always thought it was possible.

Fortunately, that's not where Robbie's questions were going.

"What's it like? Is it different? The pussy, I mean."

Billy sighed. This was so wrong.

"I mean... it goes in pretty easy. But... Well, they do these exercises afterwards. Or at least Bess had. So she could squeeze."

Robbie groaned.

"And Aunt Max?"

Bill scowled. He shouldn't say anything more, he thought. But it seemed like his brother had conceded. And damn, he wanted to tell someone.

"I think Aunt Max has done a lot of them."

This time instead of groaning, Robbie whined. But Bill suddenly wanted to keep going.

"So, it's like she's got a grip. She's not always tight, but it's like... like her pussy has multiple settings."

"Oh, Jesus," Robbie moaned. "How about blow jobs? Does she give good head?"

"Shit, Robbie."

"C'mon, tell me. You're telling me this is all I'm gonna get... at least let me have this."

Bill sighed. "Well, yeah, in a way."

"In a way?"

"Well... it's not like she's suckin' the chrome off a trailer hitch.

"But... she's got moves."

"Moves?"

"Yeah. And she's got names for 'em."

"Names?"

"Yeah, 'butterfly' and shit. I guess she read a book or somethin'. She really seems to like asking me, 'Do you like this?' and 'How about this?'" Some of 'em actually kind of tickle."

"Huh," Robbie considered. "So, she talks during sex?"

"Yeah... she talks a lot."

"Huh," Robbie said, again. "That's hot."

"It's kind of cute, actually," Billy confided. "Like, she doesn't know how good she is."

Robbie groaned again. "I'm sorry," he acknowledged. "I'm just so fuckin' jealous."

"Look, I'm only telling you all this because she asked me to tell you to fuckin' stop,"

Bill said. "You're not supposed to know. No one can know. So you gotta shut up and drop it."

"So... you're buying my silence. Instead of threatening me for it."

"I guess you could say that."

"So I'm not going to get a piece of Aunt Max."

"Robbie, it's not my call. It's hers. She says no."

"Yeah, but... why do you care? Jesus, Billy, you're not, like, in love with her or something?"

Bill snorted out a denial. In love? Fuck, he thought, that would be stupid. Aunt Max was a trophy. A hell of a trophy, and one that he wasn't going to pass around. No, he preferred to think of her as a fresh kill... a sleek and spritely antelope that he had brought down on his own, and now he wanted to devour her. Without sharing.

In love. Sheesh.

"So... if she changed her mind... and did want to fuck me... it'd be okay with you?"

Billy looked at this younger brother and furrowed his brow. "No," he said, finally. "I'd still have to shoot you."

***

It was mid-November. Maxine was still getting settled into her new house. Judd had picked it out three weeks ago while she was back in Plainville, without telling her, as usual. But it was a nice house, and it had been empty, so they had been able to move in immediately, and it was better than the apartment.

And so today she was hosting her first gathering of the women in the Bible study at

the church they had joined. The six of them had finished the "study" part of the afternoon and were all just chatting and joking over coffee. When the red pick-up truck pulled into the driveway.

Max almost panicked. What was Billy doing here?

She excused herself and went to meet him on the front porch. "Billy!" she hissed, unpleasantly. "What the..." she dropped her voice and continued, "hell are you doing here?" She didn't want her new friends to hear her swear. Let alone know that she was talking to the young man she had been fucking, outside her marriage.

"Hey, Aunt Max," he grinned, looking like he was bursting with false bravado. "Yeah, I'm on a... road trip."

"Billy!" she repeated, in a hushed voice. "You can't be here!"

"Relax," he told her, mirroring her whispered tone. "I told everyone I was going deer-hunting up in Michigan."

"God, Billy," she muttered. But she couldn't deny she was feeling herself get wet between her legs.

"So, are you going to invite me in?" he grinned, swiping his delicious curl off his forehead.

"Oh, God," she replied. "I guess I don't have any choice." She held the door open, realizing a second too late that she could have dismissed him, explained to her friends that it was some workman who had the wrong house.

She led him into the kitchen and introduced him to the five thirty- or forty-something women around the table. "Hey girls," she said, brightly, "This is my nephew, Billy."

"Hi, ladies," Billy said, brushing his forelock back off his brow with one hand, confidently.

"Hello, Billy," several of them responded, non-plussed.

"Billy is on his way north," Max explained, "On a hunting trip."

"Oh!" Marianne Jamison said. "Well, it's nice to meet you."

"Hello, Billy," added Norma Manfred. "Come, join us for a cup of coffee."

"Um... okay, sure," Bill replied, advancing toward the only empty seat at the table, which had been Max's.

Marcella Reardon cleared her throat, and said, "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but it is about that time. Kids will be getting home from school soon."

Maxine nodded as all her friends began to gather their things. She was torn, between being relieved that they were leaving, and being paranoid that they had figured out why they should leave. The latter was nonsense, of course.

Max walked them all to the door, as they offered their thanks to her and their "It was nice to meet you's" to Billy. Norma paused at the front door and whispered, "Your nephew is a hunk."

Max's eyes went wide, but then she faked a laugh.

"He reminds me of a young Elvis," Norma continued. And as she turned to go, Marianne made eye contact with Max and nodded vigorously, in agreement.

Good Lord, Maxine thought, as she closed the door behind the last of them. Every thirty- and forty-something woman she knew was just as much of a slut as she was. Even the ones that came to Bible study.

Then she turned to face Billy, who was leaning up against the arched doorway into the kitchen.

Five minutes later she was on her back on the living room sofa, her naked thighs wrapped around Billy's pistoning lower torso, her arms up underneath his flannel shirt, palms flat against his shoulder blades. His jeans were still around his ankles; her polyester slacks were in a pile on the floor, along with her white cotton panties.

And his cock, his glorious cock, was gliding effortlessly in and out of her.

She couldn't take him into her bedroom, into Judd's bed. And they certainly couldn't do it on one of the boys' beds. And anyway, they didn't have time. The school bus would be here in fifteen minutes, and her youngest son with it. Which just added to the frantic, desperate thrill of this unexpected, illicit encounter.

"You can't be here," she had insisted, five minutes ago. But he had responded by pushing her up against the wall and covering her mouth with his, in an urgent probing kiss that she had returned immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck while his hands came up and kneaded her breasts through her blouse and bra.

"I mean it," she said, a minute later, after he finally broke off their breathless kiss and took her hand and led her deeper into the house, toward the living room and the bedrooms. But she was the one who had made the decision to lead him toward the sofa.

"I don't know what you think you're doing," she had continued, but she had raised her arms as he pulled her blouse up over her head, knocking her headband off and causing her honey-colored hair to spill down over her shoulders. Because of course she knew what he thought he was doing.

"We've only got fifteen minutes," she had said, three minutes ago, as he undid his belt and unzipped his jeans and she wriggled out of her slacks. No time for that wicked mouth to engulf her sex, damn it.

But that only meant that they would proceed immediately to his gorgeous, hard cock finding its way inside her, where she was already completely wet, completely ready for him.

And then they were together again, in that exquisite dance that was unlike anything she had ever experienced before, their bodies colliding and grinding as if they had been doing it forever, as if they had perfected this act.

"Go ahead and cum," she told him. "You can't be here when..."

"Sure, I can," he cut her off. "And I want you to cum first."

"I don't know if I can," she gasped, although she could already feel an orgasm building. Of course, she wanted him to stay, she thought, while her mind was still halfway rational, or at least capable of rationalizing. They had hosted a couple of her older nieces before. None of her nephews had ever visited, alone, but Billy's story that he was passing through on a hunting trip sounded plausible to her. Judd would never suspect. Would he?

"Oh, Jesus, Billy," she cried out, as her orgasm swept over her and she locked her ankles behind his clenching buttocks. She couldn't afford to lose track of time.

Or... sweet Jesus, she thought, as her senses returned and Billy continued to pound in and out of her. She shouldn't have lost track of the chance that one of her friends might have left something here, and come back to get it.

She closed her eyes, unable to bear the thought of Norma or Marianne or Marcella coming around the corner, holding up her Bible in explanation, and staring wide-eyed and gob-smacked at the sight of Billy's taut buttocks flexing and pumping between her wide-spread thighs. His jeans around his ankles, his heavy testicles slapping rhythmically against her bottom. And she, Maxine Reynolds, their new friend and Sunday School teacher writhing underneath him like a heathen priestess in a sinful pagan ritual on the altar of Baal.

Fortunately, that was all in her fevered imagination, she realized, even as her second orgasm rocketed through her.

Also fortunately, Billy seemed to at least be aware of the urgency of the situation, too. She felt him picking up his pace, clutching her to him, and then he was trembling and spurting into her, filling her with his forbidden, twenty-year-old semen there on the family room sofa.

"God, this is insane," she finally murmured, after a couple more minutes, as he began to relax on top of her.

"So good," he muttered in response, drawing her hair back off of her forehead with one hand, and then pulling out of her, all too soon. Instinctively she reached down and cupped herself, to keep from staining the couch with their telltale juices.

"Daniel will be home any minute," she said, reaching down with her free hand to gather up her pants.

"Okay, okay," he said, standing up and pulling his briefs and jeans up from around his ankles.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"I just had to see you again," he stated.

She fumbled her panties back on, one-handed, trying not to leak. She looked around the room, and realized she had time to get dressed again. They had gotten away with it. She sighed.

"I'm glad," she admitted.

"So, can I stay tonight?" he asked. "We'll have the house to ourselves tomorrow, right?"

"God," she replied. They had only been together three times before, including their last encounter in his pick-up truck along the river. Never more than a couple of hours. "I guess so." The idea that she would have her lover in her own house, in her husband's house with him here, had never occurred to her before. But, yeah.

"I've got to go pick up Stephen from basketball practice at six," she said.

"I can do that," Billy offered.

"Hmm. Maybe," she considered. If Judd got home before Billy and Stephen got back, she could casually, cavalierly inform her husband that they had an unexpected guest. Just one of her sister's kids, passing through.

But it could work. It had to work. Judd was an agreeable sort, and he would have no reason to suspect anything was amiss. If anything, he always seemed to enjoy demonstrating his hospitality and his relative affluence to her family. The boys could both sleep in the twin beds in Daniel's room, and Billy could sleep in Stephen's room tonight.

"Cool," Billy said, tucking his shirt into his jeans. "And tomorrow..."

"Shhh," she said, putting her fingers up to his sensuous lips. She could hear the bus pulling up outside.

And just then, for the first time, it dawned on her. Billy's arrival on a nondescript Thursday afternoon had been a surprise; and as soon as they were alone she had welcomed him into her with desperate urgency, just as they had the last two times they had been together. But those encounters had been premeditated. Today, she hadn't even thought about her diaphragm. Until now.