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Click hereForeword
A quick mature aunt/nephew piece from me. I had other stuff to get on with and only had time to push this out before the deadline expired, so apologies for the errors remaining.
Adamās Aunt Barbara has come to stay in his big house during a personal crisis. Theyāve always been flirty, but then it gets worseā¦
I hope you get some pleasure out of this meagre offering. Feedback would be good if you have time/inclination.
Thank you for reading.
GA ā Oxford, England ā 6th of September 2015.
*
Sheās doing it again ā the flirting. It makes me uncomfortable, but also gives me that sweet thrill of the taboo. Part of me doesnāt want her to stop, especially my cock, which has thickened and grown and is now pressed in down there in such a way I canāt focus on much else.
Itās the look on her face and the tone of her voice.
The atmosphere crackles between us.
Weāre on the Kettler furniture out on the patio, with the afternoon sun beginning to tame. Sheās showered and changed into a light cotton dress, which is a relief for me because I couldnāt stop looking at her body when she was in the bikini.
Sheās up in her mid-fifties, but claims to be forty, which is believable. Her pampered lifestyle is so far removed from her humble beginnings sheās got the time and the money to look after herself. My aunt is one of those extremely attractive mature ladies who only seem to get sexier as they get older. If sheās had any work done, then itās money well spent, because I canāt spot any signs of nips and tucks ā and Iāve had plenty of opportunity to examine my auntās ripe, voluptuous figure for a goodly part of the day.
The corner of her mouth twitches when Barbara eyes me over the rim of the glass. I get the sense sheās messing me with, just having some fun in her own twisted way, and I want to confront her head-on, but I darenāt. I might be three beers in but donāt have enough of the brave-juice inside me to actually say what it is I want to say.
āGod,ā she breathes, stretching her legs while admiring her colour. āWhat a beautiful day. My tanās coming on nicely. Thanks for letting me stay.ā
Iām trying not to gawp at her thighs as the hem draws up higher. The pressure inside my shorts is already approaching painful levels, and looking at her legs will only make everything worse. So I gulp at my beer and awkwardly climb to my feet, doing my best to mask my predicament as I go.
Iām already turning away as I say, āMore wine, Aunt Barbara?ā But the look on her face tells me sheās noticed
My aunt drawls out a distracted, āMmm? What? Wine? Oh, yes please, Adam,ā and my cheeks warm as I scurry away.
In the kitchen I take stock, wondering why I invited her to stay in the first place. Sheās loaded, she could have found somewhere else to hide during this latest divorce.
I take my time uncorking the bottle and pouring a fresh glass. I need a little time to allow the hard-on to deflate and my burning cheeks to cool down. Finally, after leaving it for at least five full minutes, I take a deep breath, pick up her wine and my beer, and dare to venture outside.
Sheās on the single-seat chair with her feet tucked beneath her when I make a reluctant appearance. āThanks, Adam,ā she purrs, leaning to take the glass out of my hand, and whether by design or by accident her dress gapes at the neck, the deep crease of her cleavage drawing my eyes.
My aunt sips and then says outright, āDo I make you uncomfortable, Adam?ā
Which is my opportunity. I could suck it up and be brave. I could be a man and confront the issues face-on, but, after myriad thoughts have tumbled about in my head, I opt for a decidedly weak, āNo, not exactly.ā Then I shrug and add, āMaybe sometimes ā¦ Just a bit.ā
I canāt look her in the eye when she uncurls from the mermaid pose and places the glass on the low table. And suddenly Iām not perving at her tits any more. I know sheās caught me looking and I feel my face burning again.
āOh, come on, Adam,ā she sighs.
I hear the exasperation, like she canāt be bothered playing games any more while I avoid her eyes by frowning at the swimming pool. I can feel her stare lasering into me, then see the movement from the corner of my eye, and when I swivel my face towards her I see Aunt Barbara shaking her head, a moue pursing her lips before she says, āWeāre both adults here. You and I both know whatās been passing between us.ā
She lets me dangle while gazing intently into my face, the silence stretching along with my nerves. Itās been almost a week in getting to this point, and Iāve had just about all I can stand, but, as I stand here and try to figure out an appropriate response Iāve also got this little voice in my head whispering about how I sort of hoped things would come to a head during her visit.
Deep down I want this to happen.
āAnd,ā I hear my aunt saying, her voice sounding like itās coming at me down a very long tunnel, āwhile I understand you might be reluctant to put a voice on it, Iām quite enjoying the way things are between us.ā
I have to gulp down on what feels like a beach ball lodged in my throat while simultaneously experiencing a sneaky slide of the illicit deep in my core. The delicious shiver ripples along in that vague, indefinable place where dark urges come from, the sexual arousal I feel for my aunt a hot burst of desire which drags at my insides.
āAunt Barbara,ā I croak, her name coming out clotted with need. āI donāt ā¦ You shouldnātā¦ā
But I want her to. I want my aunt to say it all out loud. Just like I also want to get her out of that dress and bury my face between her considerable breasts. Having her cavorting around the periphery of the pool in her bikini for most of the afternoon has wired my libido. Iām so worked up Iām going to have to crank at my cock ātil it spits very soon. Itās masturbate wildly or Iām going to lunge for my motherās sister. Iām getting close to the point where, in my mindās eye, I can see myself shoving my shorts to my knees and cranking my dick right in front of my aunt.
And the thing is, I get the impression she might just sit there and smile while I do it. Which is a completely insane notion, but it seems to me weāve been heading to this showdown for a few years. Even before the band hit it big and I became a household name ā as far as a certain demographic is concerned ā my aunt has been slightly over the top in the things she says and the way she says them to me.
Iām more than a little confused and aroused while Barbara holds me captive with her eyes and her smirk.
āWhat shouldnāt I do?ā asks my aunt as she stands and sips from her glass. She looks at me, apparently waiting for some kind of response, head tilted to one side, eyes going wide.
Thereās nothing from me except for a gulp, the seconds stretching while my cock reminds me itās there, the erection resurrected because of the things I can see us doing together but which Iām too afraid to initiate.
What if Iāve got it all wrong? What if itās only my hyped up sexual need trying to convince me my aunt would be up for a tumble? There are made-up stories about me in the newspapers often enough as it is; if it ever got out I made some kind of move on my own auntā¦?
Just thinking about the aftermath of such a huge error of judgement sends me cold, and while it might be a hot afternoon, I actually shiver in terror.
Then it seems like Iāve stretched my auntās patience to the limit because Barbara tuts and rolls her eyes before saying, āIām disappointed, Adam. Donāt you trust me?ā She gulps the rest of her wine in three or four swallows, looks towards me again, and then pulls a face. āYou think about it,ā says Barbara, leaving me out on the patio.
My first inclination is to follow my aunt into the house. And I take two or three steps towards the open French doors before realising I donāt have a clue what Iād say. So I stand for a few seconds while it all bounces around in my head. It takes a little time, but I eventually decide Iāll be better off sitting down and really thinking things through instead of rushing in to confront her.
So I do. I settle down on the two-seater sofa to sip at the beer while attempting to make sense of this thing with my aunt.
*
When I do eventually go inside itās one of those balmy summer evenings just made for a pub beer garden. I can imagine people sitting outdoors enjoying themselves without a care in the world, and Iām envious that they can do so. What a reward after a day spent at work: sunshine and laughter and a cold drink or two, with the promise of a sunny weekend ahead. Not that Iād know much about the nine-to-five gig, my hours are much more haphazard. Tours, studio-time and PR meetings are more my forte, with dodging the paparazzi in there as well. And thereās no way I could enjoy a quiet pint under a sunshade in the back garden of a pub by a river. It would be mayhem in under a minute.
I pass through the kitchen, placing the empty bottle on the counter with the others before considering another out of the fridge. Iāve got the buzz and think one more wonāt hurt. So I pop the top off a bottle and go in search of my aunt.
Barbaraās face turns towards me as I enter the living room, which is probably my favourite room in the house: contemporary minimalist, yet warm and inviting. Iāve spent a lot of money putting the house together, blown a fortune on designers and shoppers who have made their suggestions and then been set loose with my approval and money. My aunt doesnāt say a word when I enter, just looks at me, her inscrutable demeanour making me gulp. I pause, hesitant and unsure about what to do and what to say. Thereās so much which needs to be said, but, again, Iām afraid to start anything in case itās all one huge misreading of signals.
It seems to go for quite some time, this me gawking at my Aunt Barbara while she just sits there with a face carved out of stone.
But itās me who breaks first when the silence grows deafening.
I eventually blurt, āAunt Barbara, whatās going on?ā and she lets me suffer some more, prolonging my agony by staying perfectly still, her lips together, eyes fixed on my face.
Then she blinks two or three times, face softening as she pats the seat next to her with the flat of one palm. āSit down,ā Barbara invites with a smile. āLetās talk.ā
I take a tentative seat on a sofa the size of a barge. Weāre three feet apart, with her in one corner while Iām wedged up against the opposite arm, a no-mans-land of chocolate-brown leather between us.
āWhat is it you want?ā I ask on a whine. I canāt take much more, just being close to her has brought my cock to a raging tumescence.
āWell, Adam, I think you could have figured it out for yourself by now.ā
Iām in turmoil. Iām sure I know what sheās talking about, but canāt bring myself to say it out loud. How can I? Sheās my motherās sister, for crying out loud.
I swallow the beach ball again, lust dragging at my vitals as I croak a faltering, āI ā¦ I-uh-think so.ā
Barbaraās eyes go wide as she leans in towards me and murmurs, āAnd how do you feel?ā
And isnāt that just the question to ask!
One Iāll have difficulty answering, too.
I blink and gawp at my aunt, then suck in a huge draught of air while shrugging and saying, āOh God, Aunt Barbara, I donāt know what to say.ā
āYou could put it into a song,ā quips my aunt with a grin. But then she turns serious again and continues by asking, āAre you shocked, Adam? Are you disgusted?ā
Her last question goes some way to convincing me Iām wrong in reading the signs, and while Iām still wholly sure, I say, āNo, Aunt Barbara, Iām not disgusted.ā
To which she replies, āThen what is it you feel?ā
āI donāt know, really. Itās awkward talking this way. I mean, come on, youāre my aunt. If we ā¦ If youā¦ā Iām floundering, out of my depth, going under, but my aunt throws me a life-line.
āOh, I know that,ā she says, chuckling. Barbara offers me a rueful grin and goes on with, āYou think I havenāt analysed this to death this past week? I understand how massive this is ā¦ And Iām also aware of the dangers. Youāre so well known, Adam. If anything went on between us and word got out it would cause ructions. I canāt imagine the scale of the scandal ā¦ And the familyā¦?ā She pauses and studies my face, then goes on to say, āNot that Iām trying to say we shouldnāt do anything. If youāre feeling anything like I am youāll know something has ā¦ developed between us. We can either submit to it or keep well away from each other. In my mind itās as simple as that.
āThe question I have for you now, Adam ā given those choices ā is what do you want to do?ā
My snarling libido takes over. āI-uh-I donāt want to have to keep away from you, Aunt Barbara,ā I stammer.
She nods slowly, then sighs. āMe neither,ā my aunt whispers.
I realise sheās somehow shifted across the divide because her hand goes onto my leg, to the bare skin of my thigh, way up high, her touch sending a jolt through me.
My heart leaps around in the cage of my ribs; itās difficult to breathe and suddenly very hot in the room. I feel the wave of reckless need wash over me as I look down at her fingers, across to her precipitous cleavage, and then up into her face.
Barbaraās voice is low and narcotic when she asks, āYou know what weāre going to do, donāt you? You know what itās called?ā
I swallow the beach ball again, nodding while gazing into her eyes. āI know,ā I manage to say, my voice nothing more than a hoarse rasp.
āItās incest,ā she tells me, putting the word out there and making it real. āAnd I know I must be mad for wanting to go so far with you, I mean, itās about as bad as a person can be ā donāt you think? But Iāve been over it so many times in my head I canāt think anymore. Itās simple really,ā she shrugs, āitās just sex with someone I love. Okay, yes, youāre my sisterās son, my nephew, my family, and the world would condemn us. But nobody has to find out. Nobody ever has to know.ā
Her hand has gone higher as sheās said it. My auntās fingers are on the soft flesh of my inner thigh. Another inch or so and sheāll be right inside the leg of my shorts and on top of my cock.
āAre you willing to go that far with me, Adam?ā she murmurs. āAre you capable of committing the sin?ā
*
Itās peaceful out on the patio. Water tinkles as the pool pumps do whatever it is that they do, their mechanical regurgitations as soothing as any wind-chime. Itās just past the gloaming and the mood-lights have come on, their sensor set to notice the fading light as the day draws to a close.
Not that Iām in much of a mind to notice the sounds or soak up the mood. Iām too anxious and edgy to focus on much of anything for long. The waiting is agony, a razor-edge of anticipation keener than anything Iāve ever experienced. Stage fright is nothing compared to the anguish Iām suffering.
A sound from the kitchen brings my head up. I hear the tap-tap-tap of high heels pecking at the tiles a few seconds before I hear my auntās voice. āCan you turn those lights down?ā she calls out.
My throat is tight, constricted with the surge of emotion and anxiety, so my reply comes out as not much more than a rusty, āThereās a dimmer switch just by the doors.ā
The overheads fade to nothing and leave the pool and decking now suffused with the soft rosy glow from the uplighters set around the periphery of the patio, and the gentle ambience is apparently to my auntās satisfaction because, at last, she chooses to make her appearance.
āI donāt want to rush this,ā sheād said once our incestuous intent was out in the open. āThis is too big a deal for us to just get right down to it here.ā My aunt had pulled her hand from my leg and then risen to her feet. āGive me half-an-hour,ā sheād said, more than an hour ago.
The peck of her heels continues when my aunt steps onto the patio. āWill I do?ā she asks me, pausing while framed in the French doors.
Itās the first sign Iāve seen sheās as nervous as I am. So far Aunt Barbara has been confident and cool, composed as she laid it on heavy with the flirting, but sheās looking at me with this expression on her face like sheās scared about something.
I think she looks absolutely fantastic. My aunt is gorgeous, stunning in fact, but I canāt get the words past my teeth and Iām boggling at her while trying to believe itās all really going on. Sheās wearing this satiny kimono dressing gown affair, which, although covers her from throat to the soles of her shoes, still manages to hint at the very feminine shape of her body beneath. Barbara has arranged her ash-blonde hair in a seemingly careless arrangement on top of her head, the wispy tendrils at her temples framing her subtly made-up face while Pearl drop earrings dangle from each of her lobes, the jewellery trembling like strands of jizm hanging from a porn starās chin whenever my aunt moves.
My aunt must interpret my continuing silence as a potential rejection, because she chews on her lower lip for a moment before saying, āAdam, say something, please.ā
Of course it isnāt any such thing. Iām not considering a rejection at all. I want to say something to reassure Barbara, to let her know Iām still aching for intimacy with her. But itās difficult to bring the words up from within while Iām still trying to process the reality.
Finally I manage a croaky, āYouāre beautiful.ā
āDo you honestly mean it?ā she breathes, her voice so quiet I can only just make out the words over the gurgling of the pool water. āYou must know some extraordinarily lovely young women. Iām almost thirty years older than you.ā Barbaraās expression shifts towards the anxious as she voices these self-doubts. āOh God,ā she mutters, āwhat the hell am I thinkingā¦?ā
Iām up on my feet when it dawns my aunt might be on the verge of bolting indoors. āI mean it, Aunt Barbara,ā I say. āYouāre lovely.ā
And itās like coaxing a stray dog. My aunt looks at me with a degree of suspicion, as though examining me for any signs of a lie. āHonestly?ā she asks. āYouāre not just saying it?ā
Iām confused by her attitude. She was happy enough to strut around in her bikini and tease me with her tits, but here she is decently covered up and sheās suddenly all weird.
āI mean it,ā I say in reply, then add a concerned, āWhatās wrong Aunt Barbara?ā
Still framed by the doorway, my aunt replies with, āLike I said, Adam, Iām so much older than you. Iām not as ā¦ firm as I once was. You know,ā she says, pulling a face. āAnd Iāve read things about you in those gossip magazines. They say youāve been seen with some stunning young girls. Iām sorry,ā she shrugs, āIām not as confident as I was when it wasnāt so serious between us. It was a laugh before, but now weāre here ā¦ Like thisā¦ā
Barbara pauses while blinking and chewing her lip, then finishes with, āIām scared all of a sudden.ā
āYou donāt need to be scared.ā
She looks at me, time stretching before she starts moving towards me. Excitement surges when, after sucking in a lungful of air, my auntās heels tap at the patio. I gaze at her as she approaches, the moment surreal. I think, Is this really my motherās sister? Are we actually considering a sexual liaison?
Aunt Barbara arrives, her eyes level with mine because of the shoes. āIāve also read you leave the girls happy,ā she breathes. āThey say youāre quite a swordsmanā¦ā her eyes flick to the front of my shorts āā¦and that youāve got a big cock.ā When her attention come back up to my face, Barbara smirks. āI saw the bulge down there earlier on. I donāt think they were lying.ā
I gasp and swallow heavily when her palm presses against the hard ridge Iām sporting inside my shorts now sheās so close.
āWill you show me?ā my aunt asks, head canted sideways.