I'm a Bad Aunt, But Not an Aunt

I'm a very bad, naughty aunt. Now before you get the wrong idea, that's only half-true; I'm not really an aunt. My very close friend, Jen, married a wonderful, handsome man about a decade ago. Along with marital bliss came a step-son named Tommy. Tommy was a slightly rotund, cute little boy with chipmunk cheeks, hazel eyes, sandy blond hair, and a slight bulge around the waist. He also stammered around me whenever he tried to speak. I shrugged it off to shyness and awkwardness and thought it was adorable. I instantly became Aunt K and took delight in signing Holiday cards as such.

Not too long after that, Jen and her beau moved some hours away. I got married, myself, and our subsequent move increased the distance considerably more. After my divorce I increased the distance between Jen and myself the better part of another hour's worth of travel. As the physical distance between us grew, we spent less and less time in each other's company. The magic of the internet kept us close, if not in proximity. In pictures, I saw Tommy grow into Thomas. The little pudgy cherub grew into a fine, handsome, lean young man with chiseled features. When his first serious romantic relationship fell apart Aunt K helped to console him via Email. When he hit his first home run on the baseball team in High School Aunt K was there watching on video chat. When Thomas left for college, Jen cried on my virtual shoulder. Because Jen's husband was a little older, Tommy was barely more than ten years my junior. When you're in your twenties and he's a little kid one tends to view them as much younger. Even seeing the man he'd grown into through the pictures shared over the years didn't change my opinion of my young nephew being a little round waif.

Then came the question. Jen asked me to do her a favor, a 'solid' in her own words. Thomas had finished up college; with a degree in his hands he wanted to gain some experience to pad his future job seeking. Thomas had been accepted into an internship in the city not far from where I live. Jen asked me if I'd be willing to look for a place for Thomas to stay for a month or two while he interned. I immediately decided that we would have none of that. "I have this huge house all to myself and I would be delighted to have him stay here with me," I exclaimed. I also thought that it would be nice to have a male around the house again, even if said male was my young nephew. I hadn't had a man in my life in any real capacity, except for casual dating, for several months. I thought I had found a serious beau, but after a couple of year together either his attitude towards my wild streaks soured or I had changed. I don't like to think that I change, except maybe for the better. I should have known things were heading south when he chimed in with, "Are you really going to wear that out?" He didn't even notice that it was the very same outfit I was wearing when we first met.

Anyway, I felt that it would be fun to have my adorable little nephew around the house for a while. I could be the doting aunt and try my hand at baking. It would be exactly what I needed! Little Tommy could stay with me and I could give myself a break from my usual routines. I was excitedly looking forward to his visit. But then the day of his arrival came. He grabbed a ride from the airport to take him, and his luggage, out and arrived just at sunset. I had to force myself to not scamper out to meet him. I managed a slow hustle, feeling that I looked very aunt-like in casual shorts and a loose flowy top. I had my red hair tied back and chose light and smoky makeup rather than my usual sultry vixen look. I told the image in the mirror that she looked very wholesome. I even went through the torture of donning undergarments. Granted they were lacy and alluring, but undergarments nonetheless.

I still held the image of that cuddly little cherub in my mind, despite having seen how he'd grown. He was leaning into the front window of the car, his back to me, as I approached. Instinctively I noted that his legs were quite tan and muscular and the way he was bent into the window as he spoke to the driver showed off a very well-toned behind. What the pictures hadn't shown me was the fact that he had a very trim waist, broad shoulders, and that even from behind I could see the swell of his biceps as he gestured casually. I stopped in my tracks. I knew, academically at least, that he had grown into a young man. It had never occurred to me until I saw him in the flesh that he had grown into a fine, sexy, thigh-scorching hunk. My mind immediately raced along with my pulse and I had to mentally chastise myself. I was thinking naughty thoughts and the justification of "he's not really your nephew" thundered in my mind.

He turned and faced me, smiling. His boyish cheeks had toned into high cheekbones and a strong chin. His hazel eyes sparkled and his slightly plump lips rose into a thigh-melting smile showing off very white and straight teeth. I recalled his mid-teens when he hated the braces. I bet that he's happy he got them now! His sandy blond hair retained its color and was now cropped slightly long and random giving him a roguish mien that accented his facial contours nicely. He wore a simple aqua tank top that showed off his muscular torso quite well. Looking at him made me instantly wonder if he had a surf board stowed away someplace. The frumpy little boy of barely thirteen was long gone and had been replaced by a man very well-suited to pursue a career as an underwear model.

"Aunt K," he said. His voice was deep with an almost sing-song tone. He put so much emotion into just those two syllables that it was almost hypnotic to me. I just paused and smiled at him like a giddy little schoolgirl. At least I had the decency to not run my eyes up and down his torso. He held out his hand as if to shake it. I gave in to my whims and scampered the remaining few steps up to him and embraced him. I had forgotten all about wanting to pinch those cheeks again and was fighting the thoughts of wrapping my legs around those cheeks instead. To cover this all up I embraced him and hugged him tightly. His body was hard and just as muscular to feel as it looked.

"Tommy!" I sighed out. I wanted to sound matronly but it came out more like a mid-orgasm sigh.

"Please, Thomas." He pled through a laugh as we hugged. "Call me Thomas."

I broke out my reverie and started babbling like an idiot. "It's been so long, my how you've grown into a fine young man, how's your mother, Jen, are you hungry, I've cooked," all came out of my mouth in a verbal onslaught. Meanwhile I could feel my body reacting on a primal level. Yes, guys, we ladies also react physically to people that we find sexy; we just don't usually let it rule our minds and behavior. Usually, that is. Myself, when I get in the mood I let the beast run wild; this time I was trying to keep it locked up in its cage. My body wanted him just by looking at him. My mind was reminding me that this is my nephew, and my best friend's stepson.

My ex-husband wasn't exactly the body builder type and my last boyfriend had that rugged rock and roll bad-boy look about him, but he was merely toned, not a statuesque Adonis like Tommy...I mean Thomas. I insisted on paying the driver and Thomas went to the back of the car to unload his luggage. The driver's stare told me that my nipples were hard and I smiled to myself and made sure to give him an eyeful. I felt my entire body tingle at his attention and I was thankful that I decided to wear panties for a change. Thinking that the innocent driver would be an outlet for the lust I felt boiling up inside of me, I made sure to 'accidentally' brush his arm with my breast as I handed him a cash tip. I don't know why I thought that! Every time I think that just doing something naughty will quell my desire it only serves to fan the flames more.

The driver drove away leaving me and Thomas alone at last. The late spring setting sun highlighted his hair. He held three of his large bags in one hand and a bottle of wine in another. I could see his arm muscles bulging and his sinewy tendons straining with the weight. I looked him over in what I hoped was a neutral manner and noted that his waist no longer bulged as it did in his early teens. Now a handsome man in his early twenties he had a very nice bulge slightly lower than his waist.

"Mom says you're still into wine?" He questioned rhetorically. "This is from the vineyard owned by one of my favorite singers," he said.

It seemed that the tables had turned and it was now my turn to have a stammer. "Let's get you settled in first. Then we can pop your cork over dinner and you can tell me all about your life over the past seven years."

If you're wondering, I didn't bake. We did, however, grill some salmon and vegetables I had started. While it didn't pair well with the strong red wine Thomas brought, it was still lovely. The warmth of the dying day gave in to a cool night. Thomas gave me a condensed version of his life and I found his personality and demeanor to be overwhelmingly charming. He also enjoyed wine and mentioned that he a took a wine class as an elective "pretty much to just meet girls". However, he enjoyed wine to the point where I took him down to my wine cellar to let him pick out the second and then the third bottle. My wine cellar is really just a small room in my basement that houses a few mid-grade bottles and some of my grocery-store favorites.

The entire night, at least outwardly I hoped, I was merely friendly and acting like a family member. Inwardly my mind began to wander. When we sat on the patio he noted a bent leg on one of my chairs and just squatted down and bent the steel back into position: I imagined his strong hands rubbing my body up and down. When he dripped some marinade on his chin his tongue shot out, long and lithe, and deftly licked it off his flesh. I desperately wanted to pour the marinade all over my body and make him lick it off. When we finished eating he got up and grabbed the plates and sidled past me, saying that he promised 'mom' that he'd earn his keep, his crotch was right at eye-level in my seated position. I envisioned myself grabbing his obviously large package and seeing if it felt as long and thick as I imagined. I restrained myself...barely. It wasn't until I prodded him about all the women he probably seduced in college that some of the old Tommy showed back up. He blushed in that peculiar way that is so sexy and told me that while he had "a few" girlfriends, he didn't meet anyone that was "the one". I teased and prodded but he remained bashful and some of his old stammer came back for a fleeting moment. I suspected, or at least fantasized, that my quasi-nephew was a real Lothario, but I kept my mouth shut for once as my mind played out my sexy houseguest giving girl after girl a night to remember.

When I followed him into my kitchen I noted how his shorts molded the shape of his ass to the point that I could see the outlines of his muscles with every step. I wanted to spank him; I wanted him to spank me. I wanted to grind my now-dripping mons over those tight buttocks until he was begging me for more. "You're AUNT K," I reminded myself.

It was eventually time to show him to his room. I grabbed one of his duffles and struggled with it. He deftly plucked it out of my arms with a single hand and just asked me to lead him. Picturing me dressed in all-black leather and leading him with a leash, I couldn't help but smile as I brushed past him. My master bedroom suite is at the far end of the hall. I had set up another bedroom at the other end. It was, according to the realtor, a guest room. The main bathroom is between the two. Medium sized, but still spacious with a half-bath it would do better than any long-stay motel would have. Thomas looked it over and smiled. I wondered how many women had fainted when exposed to that smile. I bumbled through helping him get settled in and told him that I stocked the main bathroom with fresh towels after he mentioned that he wanted a shower before he lies down.

"Will you still need your aunt K to tuck you in?" I tried to joke. I chastised myself again. I had allowed far too much of my naughty thoughts towards him come out in the way I said that. Thomas seemed nonplussed and laughed that he was a big boy now. 'Big in more ways than one,' I thought to myself. So I bade him a good night and told him that I was going to finish my wine out on my gazebo before I retired.

I just had to get out of my confining underwear first. As soon as I led him to the main bathroom and heard the water start I took a single step towards my own room and then my feet froze in place. I had the almost-overwhelming temptation to open the door and see if he looked as good nude as he did when clothed. I paused with my hand on the doorknob, even twisting it to find it unlocked. I could feel the heat swelling up inside of me but right before I pushed the door open I reminded myself that even though he isn't really my nephew, it is too close to a relation for me to fool around. I told myself that the city is also a campus town and I could easily find a substitute young buck and take out my frustrations on him. I then hurried to my own room, not even bothering to close my door, and almost tore my casual auntie grab from my body. My panties were soaked and my body was on fire. While I attributed my hard nipples to the cool night air my pulse knew different. I left my clothes strewn about the floor and grabbed a very feminine flannel button up dress to cover myself. My hands rubbed up and down myself as I imagined what his hands would feel like on my burning flesh.

I saw my impassioned face and flush body in the mirror and noted that I still look at least as good as any coed. I then pushed such naughty torrid thoughts from my mind by lecturing myself that Jen and I had been friends since the seventh grade and that he was strictly off-limits. I forced myself to cover my nudity with the dress, but only managed to button a few in the mid-section. It was enough to cover if he happened to jump out. I headed back down the hall but paused in front of the bathroom door that separates our rooms. I could hear him moving about a bit and the water still running and though I heard him sigh and grunt. Fighting down the naughty thoughts, again, I marched determinedly down the hall then took the steps two at a time to remove myself from temptation. My half-full wine glass was still where I had left it and I grabbed it in one hand and taking the almost-empty bottle with the other and strode out to my gazebo. As I walked up I recalled how badly I had teased the poor guys that built it for me. They weren't off limits, though. Thomas is off limits, I reminded myself.

I sat in my private sanctuary enjoying the chill contrasting with the warmth of the wine and the heat radiating off my flesh as I relived my teasing escapades. While I mused my fingers idly caressed the neck of the bottle and the wineglass stem. Those fingers soon started touching my body as well. I opened my thighs and the cold air sent shivers up and down my body. My gentle self-exploration soon became needy and wanton. When my fingers began tracing the wetness on my lips and all over my thighs I saw the light in Thomas' room flick on and noted that I had left my bedroom light on as well. Knowing quite well that he could not see me from his vantage point—if he happened to look out, that is—I unbuttoned the single button that had kept my breasts barely on the modest side and stopped teasing my hot pussy long enough to start teasing my nipples. While I honestly began with only reliving my past experiences and multiple fantasies in my mind, I soon began to fixate on my not-really-related houseguest. I imagined myself dominating him, him seducing me, him just grabbing me in his strong and muscular arms and tearing what little clothing I had on right off of me and bending me over, taking me like a savage. I imagined him in bed stroking himself over me. That brought me close; so close I had to force myself to stop to prolong my orgasm.

I forced myself to calm down. I tried once more to lecture myself about him being the stepson of my best friend. The thought that it was not technically immoral but still taboo just turned the bonfire between my legs into and inferno. Plunging two fingers inside of me and hearing the sloshing sounds as my other hand alternated between my now-exposed clit and my breasts I got within one second of exploding and then forced myself to stop again as I draped one leg over the wall seat. As I laid there panting I adjusted myself, my draped leg helping me keep my balance and my other thigh splayed outwards with the moonlight glistening off of it. As my lust began to subside just enough to back me off the edge once again I marveled at how quiet it was. The insects hadn't yet sprung fully to life to sing their night-songs and the road is way out up front. I can barely even hear the big trucks go by at night. It was like I was the only person for miles. But then I heard it! I heard a ruffle and shuffle of leaves. To me it sounded like footsteps disturbing the foliage.

I keep a fairly neat yard and I have a yard service on hire. However, not all the post-winter fallen leaves had been mulched yet so there were still some of them about. I paused and listened, not bothering to cover myself up. A breeze wafted through the gazebo and I heard a few leaves rustle in the air. I listened some more, mostly convinced that I was still alone. Then my lust-filled imagination fixated on Thomas. I imagined that he was so horny from being around me that he crept out to spy on me. If there's one thing I love, it is being watched. While my mind immediately told me that he just views me as Aunt K, I let the fantasy play out.

I caressed myself imagining that he was watching. I pulled my nipples into rock hardness thinking about his strong hands on his throbbing cock as he voyeuristically spied on me. I attacked my clit with my fingers as I looked towards the source of the original sound, smiling with lust and passion. When I couldn't take it any more I grabbed the wine bottle and poured the remaining few drops over my chest wishing his long tongue was licking it off. Because it was in my hand, the neck of the bottle found its way to my soaked and steaming pussy and I plunged it in as I laid back and let myself go.

Thinking about Thomas spying on me was far too much and my orgasm came in intense waves, one after another. For a moment I thought my contractions were so strong that I would break the bottle I had buried a few inches inside of me. I kept up the pace on my clit but withdrew the neck of the bottle. The sensation of it sliding out set me off again in a smaller mini-orgasm. Still my mind was in overdrive. I kept on stroking my clit and let my other hand run up and down my soaked lips, letting the bottle fall. Luckily it didn't break that time either! My juices had been pouring out of me and I used the natural lube to plunge a finger into each of my holes while I imagined Thomas cumming while watching me. That set off my third orgasm which was almost as strong as the first. Finally sated for the moment, I felt guilty over my own thoughts and just sat there. I was both glowing and ashamed.

I just sat there, splayed out, panting, covered in shimmery sweat from my endeavors until my mind and body receded from the clouds. I wiped the wine off of myself, licking it off my fingers and tasting my own sex-juice mixed in. I picked up the bottle and licked my orgasm residue off the neck while my other hand idly played with my nipples. Not bothering to button my dress back up I walked back into the house enjoying the moonlight. It was my home after all. If my nephew doesn't want to see me naked he should be asleep in bed like a good boy!