Diana's Tales - Tennis Pt. 04

Disclaimer -- All characters are 18 or older.

Author's note -- This story was written in collaboration with Diana R. This is the final chapter of a 4 part story.

*****

Sunlight streamed through the spaces between the slats on the blinds, waking me up on Saturday morning. As I opened my eyes, the sound of pots clanging and conversation arose from the kitchen downstairs, my husband's and Carol's voices carried through, although I couldn't make out the conversation. My husband was off work this weekend, and I knew we planned to go out somewhere, although I don't think we decided yet where to go.

I was groggy, still recovering after my late-night excursion with Will in the sunroom. As I went to the bathroom to freshen up, I saw the teddy and dress I had worn lying in a small pile on the closet floor. I remembered sneaking back into my bedroom and hurriedly changing back into a nightgown before crawling into bed with my husband as he lay soundly asleep the whole time.

I felt my age that morning, all 53 years of it. What was I thinking, running around late at night for a secret rendez-vous, thinking I could keep pace with a literal teen and hide it from all the other adults in the house. It sucks getting old. Your bones creak, and the encroaching white hair and wrinkles serve as a constant reminder my youth has long since passed. I didn't feel old, though, even if it's harder to recover from those late-night activities. There was the outline of bags under my eyes, but it wasn't anything that a light touch of make-up couldn't hide, and my grogginess wasn't anything that a strong cup of coffee couldn't fix.

I hung the dress back up in the closet and folded the teddy back in its drawer to avoid my husband possibly asking any questions why I'm wearing my sexiest lingerie if it's not for him. The small handbag with the toys I took to Will last night was in the closet corner, and I picked it up to put it away properly. I pulled my vibrator and dildo out of the bag and put them back in my bedside nightstand. I fingered the Ben-Wa balls I'd promised Will I'd wear today as I surveyed my closet for an appropriate dress to pair with them. I cursed under my breath as I remembered I'd also promised Will I'd continue wearing short dresses with no panties. I shook my head in soft regret that I'd let things get so far out of hand. Here I was, a 53-year-old woman, dressing for the sexual whims of her 18-year-old nephew. I sighed; a promise is a promise, though, and decided to go through with it. I knew my action were inappropriate, but, truth be told, I enjoyed my time with Will as much as he did with me, so, the search for a dress continued.

A lot of my shorter dresses were more formal evening wear, but I stumbled upon a casual sun dress that should do the trick and slipped it on. The dress fit snugly over my top, my nipples noticeable protruding without a bra. The hem of the dress was loose and reached halfway up my thigh. Typically, I wore it with tights underneath to protect my modesty, but today I was striving to avoid any modesty, so I left my tights in the drawer. I picked up the Ben-Wa balls again and took a deep breath. I couldn't believe I was really going through with this.

I had worn the Ben-Wa balls while going out and about before, but it was always my little secret. Even my husband didn't know I occasionally used them, but they served a dual purpose. On one hand, I'd use them to do kegels and strengthen my pelvic floor, but when I moved, they made me become easily aroused as they jingled and jangled inside my pussy. This time, though, Will knew I was wearing them, and he promised that he would check at some point to make sure I had followed through on my commitment. I felt my pussy already starting to moisten at the thought of Will inspecting my pussy later today to make sure I had kept my promise.

I slipped the first ball inside me, watching in the mirror as it disappeared inside. A few seconds later, the second Ben-Wa ball was consumed by my pussy. I smoothed the front of my dress, and felt the balls inside me, my pussy already tingling from the realization that I'd spend the day with them inside, and no one except Will would have any clue they were even there.

A few minutes later, I joined Carol and my husband for breakfast. Carol had made some bacon and scrambled eggs, and I put some on my plate and sat down to eat. I felt the Ben-Wa balls inside me as I sat down. When my body is still, I'm aware the balls are there, but they don't really do much to me. On the other hand, when I'm walking or moving around, the balls rub together, and I become easily aroused.

We got to talking about what we should do that day. We settled on going out for lunch and then spending the afternoon in the museum downtown and touring the outdoor gardens. It felt strange sitting between my husband and Carol as they breezily conversed, knowing I was cheating on my husband with Carol's son. They were so blissfully unaware of my affair with Will. I tried to hide any guilt I harbored, however, I was subdued for the whole conversation.

Will came down a half hour later and joined us. His hair was a mess, and I recognized the same athletic shorts and tee shirt from our hook up last night. I don' t know why, but my nervousness increased with Will in the room. Maybe I was afraid a look or glance might tip-off my husband or Carol that there was something more than an aunt-nephew relationship between us, but it made my pulse race, and I felt my pussy becoming even more aroused. I remembered fucking Will last night, and moved my crotch to shift the Ben-Wa balls inside me and remind myself how it felt with Will filling up my pussy.

As Carol was doing the dishes, Will innocently asked, "Aunt Diana, do you have a pair of tweezers?"

"Yes ," I answered, unsure if Will really needed one or had some trick up his sleeve.

"Great, can you show me where they are?"

"is something wrong, son?" Carol asked.

"I just caught a small splinter on my finger from under the table, Mom," Will explained. "Stupid me. But I can get it out pretty easily with a pair of tweezers. Your hands are all soapy, Mom. I can take care of it."

"Come on, follow me," I offered, unsure what I was getting into.

Carol resumed washing the dishes while my husband opened the morning newspaper and started thumbing through. Will followed me back to the master bathroom and locked the bathroom door behind him.

"I guess that answers my question if it's a real emergency or not," I whispered.

"Are you wearing them?" Will inquired.

I smiled and lifted the front of my dress. Then I pushed out the first ball just enough so it protruded from my slit.

"Satisfied?" I asked.

Will got on his knees and held my dress up.

"Are you already turned on?" he probed, my moistness evident.

"These have that effect on me," I confessed.

Will spread my labia and licked me, his tongue fluttering on my pussy.

"Son, are you alright in there?" Carol called over. I panicked. There was no good reason why I'd be locked in the bathroom with him.

"It's fine, Mom. I'm almost done pulling the splinter out," Will answered.

"Is Aunt Diana in there with you?"

"She's not here now. I think she said there was a package on the front step delivered to the wrong house, and she went to go walk it over to her neighbor."

"Ok, dear. Just let me know if you need anything."

"I'll be back down in a few minutes."

Will continued working my pussy the whole time. The sensations from the Ben-Wa balls inside me already had me on edge, and adding Will's tongue to the equation was quickly pushing me over that edge. The knowledge that Carol was right outside sent my arousal to overload, and I struggled to stay silent as I came, my hands cradling Will's head as he finished eating me out.

Will stood up, a goofy smile on his face; he was clearly pleased with me that I had followed through on his request and pleased with himself that he made me cum so easily. I hit him across the chest, "I can't believe you just did that," I complained.

Will just laughed in response.

"Now go take a look outside and make sure your mom isn't there to find me coming out of the bathroom with you," I ordered him.

"I can get her and uncle to the back of the house so you can sneak out and then come back in the front door," he offered.

"It's ok. Just go downstairs first. I'll come down in a few minutes."

Will opened the door just an inch and peeked out. "Coast is clear," he whispered over, before he opened the door fully. As Will headed down the stairs, I went over to the guest room and dropped the attic door and ladder. A few minutes later I headed down the stairs.

"Diana, I thought Will said you ran next door to return a package," Carol asked as she saw me descending the stairs.

"Oh, that was yesterday. Will must've gotten things mixed up. I was just grabbing some old photos from the attic," I said, as I placed some dusty albums on the kitchen table." I figured the old albums would sidetrack Carol and my husband, and I was right. Soon, they were reminiscing on their childhood, and my trip upstairs with Will was quickly forgotten.

******

We carried on through lunch and then prepared to go to the museum for the afternoon. Before leaving, I ran back upstairs, ostensibly to grab a small handbag. While there, I quickly traded out the Ben-Wa balls for a small egg-shaped object in my pussy. I saw the egg while I got dressed this morning, and I figured Will wouldn't mind the slight change in plans.

As I headed back downstairs, my husband and Carol went out to go warm up the car while Will and I were still slipping on our shoes. I took the opportunity to shove a small object into Will's hands.

"What is this?" Will asked.

I put my fingers to my lips to signal silence. "I'm wearing a remote-controlled vibrator," I whispered. "And that's the remote."

Will's eyes perked up as the words sank in.

"Oh, my fucking God. This is sweet," he said in obvious excitement.

"You can control when it's on and the intensity," I explained. "Just keep the remote hidden. My husband would recognize it, and I'd have a hard time explaining why you'd have it. But just be kind to me. Have fun with it, but don't embarrass me too bad out there."

We walked out the door and got into the car. We had barely pulled out of the drive when I felt the egg start vibrating inside me. I was seated up front as my husband drove, and I turned around to look in the back, and Will was sitting there, beaming from ear to ear.

The car radio played old 70's rock, and it covered up the buzzing in my crotch as Will played with the controls, varying the lengths of time he left it on as well as the intensity, trying to get a sense of which one elicited the biggest rises out of me. I fidgeted in the front seat with every change in the settings. I tried to play it cool, but I'm sure that Will caught on to every almost imperceptible move I made in response to the egg arousing my pussy. It was a relatively short drive, and he turned it off to give me a break as we parked and walked into the museum.

Once inside, I felt the egg start stirring inside me again. Will had it on a low setting, and it left me feeling good and smiling. I'd liken it to a light beer buzz. At this setting, I felt safe, but the higher settings could increase the stakes. It could become like moving from cheap beer to mixed drinks. By the highest settings the effect on me could be like shooting straight vodka shots. At some point, I'd lose my inhibitions and become unable to control myself, my orgasm becoming obvious to anyone nearby. I also didn't want to end up in a hangover, regretting what seemed like fun at the time but was an obvious folly in hindsight. Unfortunately, this wasn't a drinking game, and this wasn't a light buzz I could control by nursing my drinks. Will held the controls, and I was pretty certain he wanted to test my limits, so I steeled myself for what might come.

The museum was a mix of history and art, with wings dedicated to artwork from various eras from the Renaissance to Modern Art, and then other halls depicted items of local and national historical interest. We were making our way through a restored historical village when I felt the intensity increase. I stopped in my tracks momentarily.

"Is something wrong, Diana," Carol asked, sounding concerned.

"No, nothing. I must've just felt light-headed for a moment," I responded, trying to sound fine.

My husband took me by the arm to steady me, and we continued on our way, but I knew I was no longer nursing a buzz. Soon my pussy was on fire, and I was slowing down constantly, seemingly unable to keep up.

"Are you sure you're alright?" my husband asked.

I was edging, on the cusp of an orgasm. Any increase in the egg's vibrations would make me cum. Will stood off to the side, watching my dilemma in clear amusement. I shot him a quick glance to let him know the effect he was having.

"Let's keep going. I think maybe I just had more wine last night than I realized, but I'll be fine," I insisted.

As we crossed over into part of the art gallery, the egg vibration increased another level, and I knew I wouldn't last much longer. My husband had his arm in mine, and I leaned on him.

"Maybe you should sit down for a minute, honey," he offered.

I smiled weakly and took him up on the suggestion. I wanted to lie down on the bench, raise my dress to my waist, spread my legs out, and then rub out my orgasm, but I couldn't do that in public surrounded by a dozen people, let alone my husband and sister-in-law. Instead, I sat down and crossed my legs. I wasn't wearing any panties, and I didn't want to flash the entire gallery as short as my dress was, but keeping my legs closed just increased the stirring in my pussy all the more. The walls of my pussy were pressed tighter against the egg, and its effect on me was magnified even more. I doubled over and bit my lip. I wanted to moan. I desperately wanted to finger myself, but Carol and my husband sat down on both sides of me, rubbing my back and stroking my hair, trying to comfort me.

"Maybe we should just head back home, Diana," my husband tried to console me.

I raised my hands to my face to cover myself as I orgasmed. I wasn't sure if they'd be able to tell the difference in pain versus pleasure in my face, but I wasn't about to take the chance. I whimpered, almost crying in pleasure, although it can be hard to tell pleasure from pain at times, and I was glad this was one of those times. I snuck a glance, and Will was almost beside himself standing 15-20 feet away. He even flashed the remote control briefly, almost taunting me - the bastard.

As the orgasm subsided, I felt the egg turn down to the lowest setting, and I was able to collect myself.

"It's ok. I think it passed. I'm sorry, I'm not sure what came over me, but let's continue on, please," I pleaded.

"It's ok, honey. I think you should head home to rest up," both Carol and my husband argued.

"I promise. I'll be fine," I insisted, not wanting to ruin everyone's day on my account, especially when I wasn't actually sick.

My husband and Carol both looked at me in disbelief, but I was adamant, so we got up and continued on our museum tour. As we entered a room full of Victorian era art, the egg started buzzing more intensely again. I shuddered as I felt the vibrations quickly regain their effect on me.

Carol came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. "Diana, are you ok?" she whispered discreetly. "There's a wet stain on the back of your dress? I'm a little concerned. Do you maybe need to clean yourself off?"

Oh dear. My wetness must have seeped down to the bottom of my dress while I sat during my orgasm just a few minutes ago, but Carol thought I was hungover and assumed I had pissed myself. She wasn't wrong in terms of my ability to control myself, although it wasn't a hangover that was incapacitating me. Anyway, I decided to take a moment to collect myself.

"Thank you, Carol. I think I'll run to the restroom to take care of it," I whispered back.

The intensity increased again in my pussy, and my own arousal was rapidly escalating in proportion. I knew I wouldn't last long, and I frantically looked around for a restroom for me to disappear into.

"Do you need any help? Maybe I should come along." I heard Carol's footsteps trailing behind me. I sighed as I scurried along, following the signs to the nearest restroom. I knew she meant well, but that was the last thing I needed.

I turned a corner and finally stumbled upon the restroom, and I marched into the women's side. it was empty, and I went into a stall as I heard Carol come in after me. I locked the stall door and sat down on the toilet. Not exactly a sexy alluring locale, but it would have to do. I raised my legs on either side of the stall and leaned back as my hands starting furiously rubbing my bald pussy. The egg already had me close to cumming again, and I could finally finger myself over the edge the way I so desperately wanted to do earlier.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Carol's voice called from right outside my stall, her voice full of concern. " I can sympathize. It's no shame. I've been hungover myself. We ain't spring chickens anymore, you know. We don't recover like we used to."

Oh God, I know she meant well, but I wished she'd just leave me alone. "I'm fine. Go back out," I shouted, sounding harsher than I intended. "I'll be done in a minute."

I saw her figure hovering through the small cracks between the stall door. God, I hope she wasn't looking in. She'd see me with my legs obscenely splayed and my fingers feverishly working my pussy.

"If it's all the same, I'll just wait out here for you," she calmly replied. "Just in case."

God damn it. I didn't care anymore, though. I was so close to cumming; that's all that mattered anymore. I bit my lip again, trying to keep quiet, but I didn't completely succeed.

"Oh God," I muttered.

"Are you ok in there. Are you heaving? Your breathing is so labored. You don't sound well."

In spite of Carol's interruptions, the dam burst, and my orgasm broke through. The walls of the toilet stall shook as my legs kicked against them to steady myself. I heard Carol's voice asking more questions, but I was lost in the pleasure erupting inside; my body was convulsing, and Carol's voice was just a far-off indecipherable murmur.

I rubbed my eyes as my orgasm waned. What had I let this all come to? How did I end up in a museum bathroom stall, fingering myself to an orgasm while my teenaged nephew fucked me with a remote controlled vibrator and my sister-in-law (his mother) essentially witnessed the whole sordid episode.

I decided I'd suffered enough shame and let the game play out long enough, and I pulled the egg out of my pussy and dropped it in my purse to ensure things didn't get any worse. Then I cleaned myself off and calmed my nerves before stepping out to face Carol again. The wet spot on my dress had dried out, so I was about as close to presentable as I was going to get.

"I'm all better now," I announced as I emerged from the stall. "Whatever it was, I think it's completely passed. I feel refreshed. Energized, even." That last part couldn't have been more true.

I wanted to keep Carol from worrying needlessly, but she obviously didn't believe me. She eyed me suspiciously as we exited the restroom to rejoin Will and my husband.

*****

After we rejoined our group, Carol and my husband insisted we head back home out of concern for me. I figured it was best to play along at this point. Truth be told, I was flattered by their concern, but I felt guilty at my own deceit.

As we walked back to the car, my husband noticed a buzzing coming from my purse.

"Is that your phone?" he asked. "Sounds like someone is really trying to get ahold of you."