Aunt Max Comes Home Pt. 05

Standing in her living room at 3:45 on a November Thursday afternoon, Maxine Reynolds was aware of two sensations -- the tickle of a rivulet of semen trickling down her inner thigh, and sheer panic setting in.

She looked at the young man who had deposited the sperm that was now dampening the gusset of her panties. He had just tucked his softening but still impressive penis back into his faded white briefs and was pulling up the jeans which had remained around his calves while he had pounded her into the sofa just a couple of minutes ago. He had a self-satisfied grin on his handsome face, which stayed there as he plopped down and spread his long arms across the back of the sofa.

Well, of course he looked self-satisfied, she thought, quickly transferring her panic and anger from herself to him. He had all the arrogance of a good-looking, incredibly well-built 20-year-old man; and he had just shown up unannounced at her home and within five minutes had backed her up against a wall and had her sucking his tongue; and within ten minutes had her legs wrapped around his waist as he inseminated her.

And of course, there was the fact that she was thirty-five years old and married. And she was his aunt.

And worse than that, it wasn't the first time she had let him penetrate and fill her. In fact it was the memory of their past intense liaisons that caused her to abandon herself to his unexpected arrival; his brusque but not unwelcome ... intrusion.

But worst of all, in the suddenness with which it had all happened, she had not even thought about birth control. Her diaphragm was in the other room, in its case in her top dresser drawer. And her nephew's semen was swirling around her cervix. And her son would be home from school any minute.

"Billy!" she hissed.

"What?"

"I've ... I've got to ... I've got to run a bath."

The young man cocked his head. "Right now?"

"Yes, right now," she said, moving quickly toward the bathroom.

"Okay, well ..."

"Look, when Danny gets here, just tell him ... tell him what you told me. You're stopping by on the way to deer hunting. Then ... talk about deer hunting!" And she shut the door abruptly behind her, thinking about how weird her son would find it, to come home from school and find the older male cousin he barely knew in his living room, and his mother off taking a bath in the middle of the day. Well, there was nothing to be done about it, she thought, turning on the bath water. She had to get her private parts submerged in water -- ah, probably better that it be as cold as she could stand -- and try to flush herself out, before another million of her nephew's potent sperm cells wriggled through her cervical mucus.

Surely, though, her younger son would never put two and two together. It would never occur to him that his cousin had just had his penis up inside mommy, or that mommy was taking a bath at 4 o'clock to wash his cousin's sperm out of herself before one of them impregnated her.

Good thing her older son was at basketball practice. He was innocent, too, but he was terribly intuitive.

She lowered herself into the rising water, already uncomfortably cold -- with three inches in the tub, the pump was already drawing water straight from fifty feet down in the earth. She winced, but she seated herself on the bottom of the tub, opened herself with her forefinger and ring finger, and used her middle finger to start shoveling water inside herself. That wasn't very effective. Better to just use three fingers to spread herself open and let the water find its way.

She sat there, shivering, and stewing with anger. She knew she should be angry with herself, but it was easier and less painful to be angry at someone else. She was angry at Billy. The audacity, the sheer unmitigated gall, to show up unannounced at her new home, during her Bible study no less, and expect her to just spread her legs for him! Except, that's just what she had done.

She was angry at Judd. For creating this situation. Knocking her up when she was 19, dragging her around the country to climb the short rungs of an unimpressive corporate ladder, taking her away from her sisters, leaving her to play house in cold new ranch after indistinguishable cold new ranch, for 15 years now, a relationship utterly lacking a sliver of the passion she had felt in three fleeting afternoons with her rough-hewn, virile nephew.

She was angry at Steven, her oldest boy. Intellectually, she knew he was blameless, but she was thinking with her boiling blood, not her brain. She knew that his existence was the only reason she had married Judd. She knew it wasn't fair to him to feel this way. But she couldn't help it, and couldn't escape it. And she had spent 15 years ignoring everything she couldn't escape.

She was angry at God for making all these rules that she had broken so rarely for so long; and then allowing her a taste of what she had been missing, knowing it would send her to hell.

Slowly, she calmed down. She had done everything she could to mitigate the potential damage. "Damage." She frowned, and felt tears in her eyes. "Damage?" The damage of conceiving a child with the young man who had treated her with more passion and desire than she had ever known?

She got up out of the cold water and looked down at her body, taking particular note of the erect, thimble-sized nipples at the tips of her outsized but firm breasts. Billy loved those nipples. She loved the way he drew them into his cruel, cupid-bow lips and sucked on them. And he was just down the hall, and unless she insisted that he leave, he would be here tomorrow, when she could spend an unimaginably luxurious eight or nine hours with him.

***

She was amazed at how well the rest of the evening had played out. Steven must have been surprised to have been picked up from basketball practice by his cousin, but he didn't seem to be suspicious. Judd was surprised to come home to find his nephew there, but he didn't seem to question the deer-hunting story.

She had pulled a frozen lasagna out of the freezer and prepared an evening meal. She had expected dinner to be awkward, but after a few minutes, Judd and Billy had stumbled across a common interest -- TV cop shows -- and that carried them through the evening.

Later the five of them had watched Ironside (rather than Kung Fu, much to her older son's consternation). Judd sat in his recliner and she sat in a side chair near him, across the room from where Billy sat with his younger cousins on the sofa. Occasionally she would look over at him and catch him grinning at her, slightly lasciviously; but he avoided doing anything alarming. Gradually, her awkward discomfort with the situation began to fade, and was replaced by a little tingle of illicit thrill.

By the time Judd went to bed and she got her two boys situated in the twin beds in Danny's room, she finally had her first opportunity to talk to Billy alone. She showed him into Steven's room and had him help her put on fresh sheets.

He pushed the door to, but didn't fully close it. She was relieved to see that; at least he had enough sense to realize how suspicious that would look if Judd or one of the boys got out of bed and went to the kitchen. But with the door cracked open but obscuring the view into the room, Billy could finally take her into his arms. And she let him, and opened her lips for his probing kiss, although she kept her arms up between them lest their embrace become total.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes," she acknowledged. "I'm okay ... now." And she was feeling much less anxious than she had been a few hours ago during her emergency bath. Of course, that may not have done the trick; it may have already been too late and she may already be on the way toward a life-shattering pregnancy; but at least she had done what could be done. And at least she had navigated the evening with her illicit lover spending time with her husband and children, and no one was the wiser. With those hurdles cleared, she was beginning to consider the allure of spending several decadent hours tomorrow finally abandoning herself to the greatest passion she had ever known.

"So what was that all about, anyway?" he whispered.

"What was what all about?" she replied, equally quietly. "The bath?"

"Yeah."

She gawked at him. Could he really be that dense? "Billy ... I wasn't wearing my diaphragm."

"Oh." He paused, but he didn't look shocked or worried. "You're not on the pill?"

"No," she answered. She didn't feel a need to explain that she didn't like what she had heard about the pill's side effects. Or, for that matter, that the diaphragm had worked fine for years now, and she didn't really need it all that often anymore.

"Huh," he grunted. Then he squeezed her, and while her forearms kept him from smashing her breasts against his chest, she could feel him thrusting his pelvis forward, coming into contact with her belly.

He was rigid inside his jeans.

Oh, God, she realized. The thought of getting me pregnant has him aroused.

Oh, God, she realized next. The thought of him getting me pregnant has me aroused.

Not really. For hours now, that thought had her sick-to-the-stomach terrified. But ... the idea of him being aroused by the thought ... that was having an effect on her.

"Look," she said, her heart pounding. "You need to get in bed and go to sleep. I need to go back to my husband."

He arched an eyebrow. "Quick blow job?"

"No!" she hissed, slightly off-put by the suggestion and the coarse description of the forbidden act. Although not by the idea of the act itself. She actually rather liked doing it, especially with Billy.

"You sure?" he insisted, glancing down.

Oh dear. She hadn't even realized she had dropped one hand and was stroking him now through his jeans. He was so hard. So very, very hard. She pulled her hand away.

"I'm sure. I'll see you tomorrow."

"All day?" he asked, with a gleam in one eye.

She sighed but smiled and nodded. What the hell. The damage was done. It didn't make sense not to take advantage of the opportunity now. "All day."

She gave him one more lingering kiss, and left, closing the door behind her. It had already occurred to her that she needed to have sex with her husband. If she was indeed already pregnant, he had to assume the baby was his.

But not tonight. She could wait until Sunday, or even Monday or Tuesday. Put a little distance between the odd coincidence of her nephew showing up unannounced, and the conjugal act that Judd would have to assume had caused her pregnancy. And of course, she would wear her diaphragm. Judd couldn't tell the difference; and the last thing she wanted was to actually become pregnant and then not know who the father was.

And then there was the other thing. She wanted Billy inside her again tomorrow, as much and as often as possible. And frankly, she wanted it to be him. Just for tomorrow. Then she had to stop. She had to stop. But for tomorrow, she wanted Billy to own her. Exclusively.

***

Billy stayed awake for a long time. The day had been a success; and he had planned all along that tomorrow would make it all worthwhile. Obviously, he was right; Aunt Max was looking forward to tomorrow, too.

The evening had been awkward, but he had had days to prepare for it. Gradually, he had grown to enjoy it. He had a wicked secret, and no one suspected, and as the evening wore on it gave him an increasing sense of satisfaction and ... power.

He didn't have anything against Uncle Judd. He was a decent enough fellow. Not particularly interesting; but not a bad guy. He was, in fact, jealous of him now, down the hall, in a full-sized bed with Aunt Max beside him. He hoped she wasn't fucking him right now. He rather suspected she wasn't. It pleased him a little to think how oblivious the man had been; sitting across from him all through dinner and an evening of watching television, never suspecting that his pretty wife was sitting next to him with Billy's sperm swimming around inside of her. Taking her for granted. Not suspecting a thing.

God, he thought, if he could go to bed with that woman every night, he would neverfilling that body.

He was a bit surprised at how he had reacted to hear that she had been unprotected when he had cum inside her on the sofa that afternoon. Of course, he didn't want to get her pregnant; that would be a disaster. But he just really hadn't thought about it. She had never made him wear a condom before; he just assumed that birth control was the woman's responsibility. And he hated condoms.

But now he was rock hard with the thought that he might have knocked her up. He avoided touching himself. He could easily jerk off right now, in his cousin's bed, thinking about it. But he wanted to save every drop of himself for tomorrow.

He knew that what they were doing was called incest, and was wrong. He had never really completely understood why it was so forbidden. It wasn't anything he ever really spent any time thinking about. He had never thought about his mother that way; and anyway, she was old. His sisters were pretty; objectively hot; but he had never fantasized about them either. They were his annoying, bothersome sisters. Ugh.

But Aunt Max. Yeah, she was almost his mom's age; and yeah, she kind of looked like his hot sisters. But she wasn't. And that was part of what was so incredibly exciting about her. A full-grown woman who still had a body that made him hard. Attractive, and smart, and distant, and... unavailable. Until she wasn't.

He eventually drifted off, and slept right through Uncle Judd getting up at 6:30 the next morning and heading to the office. A while later he woke up and heard his cousins in the kitchen, eating breakfast and getting ready for school. He decided to stay in bed until they left. Then he thought about getting up and going out and giving his aunt a good-morning fuck; but instead, just stripped out of the t-shirt and briefs that he had slept in, and got back under the sheets, with his crossed arms supporting his head, and waited with pleasant anticipation for how Aunt Max would greet him.

He didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later, she tapped on the door, and then pushed it open before he could even say "Come in." She was carrying two cups of coffee. She had apparently just finished brushing out her honey-brown hair to a shiny gloss that fell to her shoulders. And she was wearing a sheer red baby-doll nightie that clearly revealed she was wearing black panties beneath -- and nothing else.

"Holy shit," Billy croaked.

His Aunt Max smiled, and set the coffee on the nightstand and sat herself on the edge of his bed.

"Good morning to you, too."

"I'm sorry," he laughed. "You just look ... amazing."

"Thank you," she replied, as he reached out to stroke her bare forearm, but found himself unable to resist moving straight to one of her full, perfect breasts behind the translucent fabric. Her nipple was already half hard; and it thrilled him to feel it immediately double in size and density against his palm.

Aunt Max cocked her head toward the doorway. "Don't you need to ... go to the bathroom or something?"

Oh yeah, he thought; good idea. Billy didn't think of himself as a particularly smart man, but he felt like he had good instincts about women's sexual signals; and it didn't fail to register with him that Aunt Max was thinking ahead, planning to fuck. She wanted him inside her, and soon, and didn't want to be interrupted once he was there. He liked that idea.

He threw back the covers and maneuvered around her, and noticed the little catch in her breath as his steel bar of an erection popped into view, arching up from his grown until his crown almost touched his stomach. He grinned, and paused long enough for her to reach out and softly caress it with one hand. Her left hand. The one with the little wedding band on it.

God, he thought, looking down at her as he stood and she sat, with her tiny hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. Lick it, Aunt Max. Open your mouth and wrap your lips around it. Those lips that you kissed your husband and your little boys goodbye with this morning...

"Go," she said, releasing him, and reaching for her coffee. Yeah, yeah, right. He needed to empty his bladder, and brush his teeth. Yeah, brushing his teeth was a good idea. His girlfriend always wanted him to do that in the morning. Plus, he would need something to do while he waited for his hard-on to subside enough to pee.

Three minutes later he was back, back in his cousin's little bedroom, where his cousin's mommy was waiting for him in sheer black panties and an even more sheer red baby doll nightie. It registered with him, slightly, that his uncle probably bought that for her. Ah well, tough luck, guy.

She said something to him, made some attempt at conversation, but he was oblivious to it. His brain and his cock were focused solely on the sweet soft fragrant body of his married aunt, waiting for him in her son's bed, in lingerie meant for her husband, but it was his now, it was all his, she was all his, and before either one of them knew it he had her on her back, with her thighs wrapped around his head and her hands trying and failing to grasp the Brylcreem-coated hair on the back of his head, as he tongued her sex through the fabric of the sheer black panties.

And then the panties were gone, and he was in her, deep inside her; well, deep one moment, and then almost all the way out, and then deep again, and out, and in, and out ... she was so wet, so welcoming for him. He could feel her soft thighs moving up and down along his torso and her arms around his neck and her tongue seeking out his as he kissed her -- oh! When had they started kissing?? -- but mostly he could feel a sweet silky pussy that wasn't resisting him before reluctantly yielding; but that rather was pulsating around him in a way that said yes yes yes yes yes yes yes ...

"Billy..."

What? She was talking to him?

"Billy," his aunt was saying to him. "I want to be on top."

He stopped his blind pistoning mid-thrust. Yeah, okay. He pulled out of her, started to roll onto his side, and was startled by the unpleasant sensation of pressing his back up against the cold wall.

Fuck this, he thought.

"There's not enough room here," he said. "Let's go to your bed."

"Oh ... no ..." his aunt reacted. He saw the unease in her eyes. There was something forbidden, something still sacred, about her marital bed. Too fucking bad.

"Oh, yes," he insisted, and then he was standing up, and picking her up, her mature body still just a pillow to be rearranged in his strong arms; still clad in that barely-there nightie, the panties long gone on the floor of his teenage cousin's room, and he was carrying her down the hallway to the bed where she had just slept beside her hapless husband ...

***

A few hours later, Maxine lay on her side, her head on her nephew's shoulder. The sheen of perspiration on his smooth chest had dried now and left him slightly tacky; with her face so near his armpit, she was aware of his masculine scent, a combination at this point of faded cheap aftershave and the sourer aroma of a good workout. She didn't mind at all. She was probably a mess, too.

They were back in her son's bed. They had wrecked her marital bed, where they had ended up over her protests. She would have to wash the sheets, she had argued; she couldn't just change them, that would look too suspicious; Judd wouldn't notice that they were fresh, but he might notice that there was a whole different set on the bed, after a day in which there had been another man in his house. Even if it was just his wife's nephew.