His Futa Auntie Pt. 03

"UHHh..... UHH..... Uhh......"

There, things seemed to be slowing down, he thought, a lump in his throat as he imagined what poor Clark looked like right now.

"Uuh..... Uhhhh-HUH!......UHHH-HUHHH....!"

He whimpered as the pace picked up again, and the boy's poor, sodden moans began to increase in volume again.

Surely not...?

He couldn't help thinking of the boy with his trousers down, settled over the work bench, a huge hand on his neck as he was piledriven by that huge bulge nestled within that terrifying woman's shorts.

"NUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

A long scream made everyone's backs go straight, a cry of pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

It was combined with a huge grunt, and a few follow up grunts of lessening vigour alongside the whimpers of a young man on a long come-down from heaven, each sigh and shiver crystal clear, until finally the sounds lowered in volume to a point that whatever was happening was inaudible to those at the bar once more.

Mr Laverman let out a long breath, adjusting his paper. There, it was over....

A few soft clinks of metal, perhaps the subtle shifting of pots and pans on the floor.

"Uhn.."

"Good boy, ya take it like a champ... shame yeh didn't quite scratch my itch but..... thanks for the epipan... the epiph.... Gah fuck it, thanks for makin' me think straight."

Mr Laverman blinked and realised sweat had run into his eyes, wiping it away with a sleeve as if he just had run a marathon.

*BANG*

The door flew open, slamming against the wall. The woman emerged, sweat stains all down the front of her top and gym shorts. It took a moment for Laverman to realise that the stains running from her bulge on one side were not at all sweat related.

On her shoulder was young Clark, limp and lifeless, his pants bearing huge stains from inside. It looked like she'd put them on him backwards.

The smell of them reached him seconds later.

John coughed, covering his mouth at the incredible stench of semen and sweat which spread to all corners, the air almost becoming humid.

In the corner the two women bristled, looking like they might be sick as they glanced over at the pair emerging from their coitus.

The woman-mountain walked forwards and dumped the whimpering, semi-lifeless form onto the counter, one leg hanging off. A wet, cloying fart from inside his pants made John sob as he beheld what remained of their bartender.

Despite being barely conscious, what didn't go away was the clear erection in the front of Clark's pants. Sheila grabbed it like a joystick.

"Huh.. boy's got stamina."

Mr Laverman looked at the way she jerked his cock through his pants whilst the boy lay drooling on his back, eyes lidded. It looked like whatever stamina he possessed had been utterly exhausted by the huge woman, who raked her fingers through her buzzcut blond hair, before throwing a five dollar bill into the tip jar.

"Nice service... if he stayed awake, mighta tipped ten."

She moved away from the aching, slumped form of Clark, slapping the bar and grunting at Mr Laverman.

"Better tell the owner their bartender's gonna be a little under the weather for the next few days...."

"Oh... I-I'm sorry.... I don't work h-"

He realised quickly that not a single word was being heeded, Sheila already looking back at the boy, the stain in his pants spreading slowly.

She flexed, the muscles in her bicep exploding, before smirking.

"Ah fuck it... better to stay concentrated."

She walked back, popped him on her shoulder with one arm, and carried him out in an effortless fireman's lift.

"Make that a week," she grunted over her shoulder.

***

"Shnoogums!"

The prettiest, bluest eyes imaginable blinked open to the sight of his mother smiling at him.

"Wakey-wakey! I brought you breakfast in bed; I thought you might need it..."

James sighed, pushing himself up weakly from the sheets, glancing around the pristine white walls of his parents' room which he now slept in each night, his own room having not been opened for weeks (his mother had taken one look inside, shut the door, and gone to pray for an hour before locking it permanently, looking slightly ill).

She proffered a spoon with porridge to his lips.

"Come here..."

He moaned.

"Mooommmm I-I... I can feed my.. myself...."

"Nonsense," she stated, her tone sharpening, before returning to a rosy, but slightly unhinged tenor, "now open wide angel!"

She pushed the spoon into his mouth, and James gave in, as he always did, sucking in the porridge, sitting dolefully as she placed every portion delicately into his mouth, humming as she worked.

As James accepted another spoonful, he thought he heard rustling downstairs, which meant that his father had probably woken up (upon hearing of his wife's intentions to keep James in their room permanently, Graham had decided that enough was enough and now slept on the sofa, Tammy replacing him with James next to her in their bed).

Once they had finished, she rubbed his cheeks with a napkin.

"Good boy.... GRAHAM, there's porridge on the counter!!"

"M-mom... can I use the bathroom..."

She tutted.

"You've been using the bathroom a lot after meals.. is your stomach alright? Are you feeling peaky?"

A hand began to press his stomach and forehead.

"MOOmmmmm s-stop it....!"

"I'm sure there's something not quite right there..... Maybe you should rest."

"I rested yesterday as well! Can't I do some exercise?...."

Her lips thinned.

"WELL I don't think that's wise, you'll just injure yourself, and then where would we be?"

"I didn't injure myself before.."

"That we know of!"

He hung his head. It was hopeless arguing with her.

"I'll get a hot water bottle going... need help getting to the bathroom?"

"No, I'm fine, h-honestly..."

He shimmied out of her reach and skittered to the bathroom, locking the door.

James slumped on the bowl.

He didn't need to go, but it was the only time now that his mother wasn't breathing down his neck.

'I thought I had it bad before...'

Ever since Sheila had disappeared...

James thought about his Auntie's constant lessons.

Warmth began to flow south. He bit his lip.

'Maybe... a little sin wouldn't hurt...'

He thought about the feeling of her hardened nipples in his mouth, the metal piercings pressing into his tongue as he slathered them in spit.

"Mmh.."

A hand reached down and began to touch his hardening cocklet.

'It's a sin....'

*Thunk-thunk!*

His heart froze in his chest, jerking his hand away.

"W-WHAT?!... Wh-whooo is it?"

His mother's voice came loud, like she was pressed right up to the door.

"Shnoogums... are you alright?"

"Poogums, I'm f-fine..."

"Are you sure?"

"I said I'm fine!"

"Hmm.... Well if you need me I'll be right here!"

"I d-don't.."

The stony silence that greeted him made him feel so nervous that he couldn't have gone even if he had wanted to. He cast his gaze out the window, to wander for a moment...

Where had his Aunt gone?

And if she had gone... How would he ever become a man?

***

Bill put a wet towel to his head, enjoying the wet coolness on his skin as he sighed in relief.

His wife's voice echoed down the stairs.

"Honey, is the air conditioning on?"

"For the last time YEAH, it's on full blast! We just gotta face it, this heatwave is kickin' our ass!"

He laid back, trying to bring his focus back to the game being shown full blast on the large TV in front of him, but finding his mind wondering as exhausted players fumbled the ball, missed throws or simply just fell over in the outrageous heat that seemed to be sweeping the nation.

Bill turned to gaze outside, looking out through the front window, and stopped at something strange.

A piece of conglomerated trash shaped in what might have been a Cadillac was parked on the opposite side of the road... but it was moving. Bill's eyebrows rose at what was obviously the up-and-down movements of back-seat fucking, and smirked, leaning in to see if he could get any details through the window.

His jaw dropped as he realised the windows were open.

What he saw inside wiped the smile from his face.

A woman who looked like she had been raised in a bull-fighting pit was slamming her humungous ass down on an unseen figure whose legs were in the air, feet facing him which meant he must have been bent almost in two.

Bill couldn't believe what he was seeing, sweat droplets no longer connected to the heat forming on his brow as he beheld a brutalising that was about as far from making love as you could get, sweat pouring off the woman's face and down onto the unseen figure even as she grinned in cruel delight, slamming something large between them...

Bill whinnied.

It was the largest cock he'd ever seen, the tip unseen, always kept buried deep within the figure. He couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman underneath, but whoever it was had to be losing consciousness as minutes passed without the pace slowing.

Bill watched for ten minutes, twenty.... thirty...

"Honey! Are you sure the AC is on???!"

He almost jumped out of his chair, placing the wet towel on his tented crotch before slumping back.

"IT'S ON!"

Bill tried his best to look back at the TV, but the devilish lust on the woman's face wouldn't leave his head.

Outside, Sheila grunted, wiping her forehead, only half-sated by her morning meal.

"Fuuuck...."

As she gazed down at the mess of sweat, saliva and cum that was Clark, she sighed, her blood-rush lessening. It had been a masterstroke keeping him around whilst she attempted to procure her long-term partner....

She took out a pair of binoculars, her cock still inside Clark, shifting his insides a little, bringing a small moan from beneath her as she stared at the Bennet household six houses down.

"C'mon... you gotta leave sometime," she muttered, licking her lips.

Sheila had finally realised... she wasn't settling for second best. James would be the first and last thing on the menu, and she wasn't going anywhere until she had him... parole or not.

As she stared, Clark tried to straighten his legs, impossible of course with Sheila inside him.

"Stop fuckin' strugglin'," she muttered with a hint of mirth, "you'll miss me when I'm gone."

The oscillating of his butthole on her shaft however, coaxed her lust back into being.

"Hnn... okay then slut, y'asked for it."

Clark moaned, not quite sure where he was, or who he was, tensing up as the fleshy pleasure train began to smack into his special place again.

"Uhn-uhn-uhn!-uhn!-UHN!-"

Best to have her side dish with her whilst she waited.

The Cadillac began to rock side to side once more.

Out of the corner of her eye as she was pounding Clark, she watched the Bennet house, curtains closed, cars stationary.

Clark's legs began to spasm as he came again, long ropes of cum covering his face and chest.

Sheila grinned and doubled down, thrusting even harder as he rocked in the throes of his orgasm.

It wouldn't be a hardship for Sheila to wait...

She imagined James' face in Clark's place.

'I'm coming for you bitch.'

###