In Awe of a Young Man Ch. 02

Richard gave me the worryingly, exciting news that evening when he got home from work around nine, his usual time.

"Yes it will be over the weekend as well" he'd said after telling me he would leaving for New York on the coming Thursday for five or six days. This wasn't anything that unusual for he always had a heavy travel schedule, but it concerned me greatly because Grant my eighteen year old nephew from Canada was staying with us and I knew it would be difficult being alone with him for that time. "You'll be alright," he'd said laughing as he added. "You've got Glenn to keep you company," startling me with the way he said that for it sounded almost as if he guessed something had gone on between us. I felt a pang of guilt because something had gone on.

I'd argued about him having to be away over weekend but he'd insisted it was essential for the deal, his normal reasoning. I knew that both the Saturday and Sunday would be more R & R than real work and felt, maybe unreasonably, that he should have declined, but possibly that was a defence mechanism about being in the house alone with my nephew.

We'd rowed again that evening when we got to the bedroom and once more I stormed out and went to my study at around eleven thirty. This time, though, when I logged on none of my friends were on-line. I went into a couple of chat rooms and followed, without joining in, several conversations that became more and more lurid and graphic. I hadn't the motivation to join in for my mind was on the events of the afternoon.

Sitting in the big office chair clad just in my robe, I hadn't worn my teasing thong tonight, I ran over what had gone on.

I was trying desperately, as I had been all evening, to get my head round what was happening to me. I usually have a fairly analytical mind and apply sound thinking to problems to come up with logical solutions. This though was beating me. That I was attracted to a younger man I could understand and accept. Lots of older women have such feelings and more and more nowadays, from film stars to ordinary people, women have toyboys. So the principle of having sex with an eighteen year old did not theoretically worry me too much and even morally I was fairly comfortable. The fact of going outside my marriage for affection did worry me though. I was intellectually ok with 'playing away' to gain sexual excitement and fulfilment, but to need to get affection, tenderness and love, even, that way really did concern me. I could reconcile the need to seek sexual pleasure on the basis that Richard was driving me that way. I'd been there before when I had both my straight and my bi affair with Amanda that, incidentally lately, was beginning to be rekindled in the conversations and e-mails we were exchanging. It was so hard and complicated to accept that I would go with anyone to gain affection, but that was what I seemed to be seeking from Glenn, as well as of course frequent, hard sex.

Also it was, of course, the fact that Glenn was my nephew and that, therefore, we shared blood and thus it was incest that most worried me. It was the most taboo of all taboos, wasn't it I asked myself time and time again? That my sister, who I loved dearly, had entrusted her son to my keeping, albeit that he was eighteen, also weighed heavily on me; I was in danger of betraying her trust. And of long term concern was the future. How would I be able to visit Phillipa? How could I lookher in the eye? How could I ever be in the company of her and Glenn knowing that I'd committed incest by fucking her son? I didn't, somehow, have the same concerns of being with muy husband and my potential young lover, odd!

I went to the kitchen to get a glass of wine. As I walked down the hall I saw myself in the mirror. I stopped and looked, feeling rather horrified that I was thinking 'What would Glenn think of my body?' The top of the robe had parted and most of both of my full breasts were clearly on view. The skirt part had fallen away from one leg. I pulled the other side away. I also pulled the lapels away so that the only part of my front that was covered was that where the tie went round my waist. My legs, my pubes, my tummy, my chest and my breasts were all on show. 'What would he think?' I asked myself imagining Glen staring at me. 'Shit what the fuck is going' I wondered?

I was pleased with my body. At nearly forty and after two children it was, I knew, still quite good. My stomach, due to the strict regime of exercises I'd undertaken after both children and my regular exhibitionism at the gym, was flat. No swell or bulging at all I noticed sipping my wine. My waist was as trim now, well almost, as it was before the children and my hips had a pleasing swell to them giving me what Richard often called 'a rounded and very feminine look.' My eyes ran over the rest of my body. The largish patch of tawny pubic hair, this was before landing strips and the suchlike, protecting my mound and guarding the my clit and my pussy, the shapely, lithe thighs and long slender legs that I knew looked their best in dark, lacy topped holdups and mid height heels.

I stared at my breasts. The breasts that seemed to draw so much attention, which I, along with most big breasted women part enjoy and part hate. I stared at my bare, large, but not udder-like, nicely shaped C to D cup breasts. They were capped by the dark pink, rather too protruding nipples that always gave me so much trouble when I wore tight tops. They frequently embarrassed me by standing to attention at the most inopportune times and God were they sensitive!

And as I gazed at my breasts I recalled Glenn's hands on them this afternoon. Every detail of him pressing me back against the large fridge, our mouths clamped together as his hand slid up my body and cupped them one at a time came into my mind. I recalled him squeezing and kneading them as I frantically, almost, ruffled his hair, stroked his neck and cuddled his body to mine. First, his hands were outside my blouse, but then quickly they were inside it right on my thin bra. I recalled how, with absolutely no resistance from me, he'd pulled both boobs out of the cups, squeezed the soft flesh of each tit and had pinched both nipples almost to the point where they hurt but, in reality with exactly the right pressure needed to inflame me even further. In retrospect I could hardly believe he was only eighteen! Walking back into the study the open robe flapping around my nudity I flopped down into the big, easy, recliner chair I often sat in when reading. I flipped the foot rest up so that I was laying almost flat in the semi-darkness. Closing my eyes I let my mind run riot as my mind was filled with what we had done earlier.

I thought of how the kiss had immediately been intense and so very passionate. How almost as soon as we had started kissing we'd struggled my blouson off and how his hands had, with no inhibitions at all, gone to exactly where both of us wanted them to be, on my breasts.

Laying there in the darkness my hands found those breasts. But as I cupped and stroked them it wasn't me who in my mind was doing that. It wasn't my fingers that were pinching and pulling at my nipples. It wasn't my hands that were sending such deliciously arousing sensations through my entire body. No, my mind was filled with an image of Glenn. My thoughts were imagining that it was his hands doing that just as they had this afternoon as he crushed me back against the large fridge. Just as he'd, almost, torn at my shirt, ripped the buttons open and plunged his hands inside. Laying in my big, leather office chair as my hands and fingers worked harder and faster on the soft flesh and puckered nipples so it was his mouth I remembered sucking my teats, just like my own son had done all those years ago.

I was shuddering as I recalled the forceful way he'd yanked each breast out of the flimsily, expensive lace bra. How he'd pinched them and sucked them more fiercely than I was used to. How I'd assumed it was just that he was so worked up and how that had acted like a chain reaction arousing me even more.

As my hands slid down my body I thought of how his had done that. How they'd slid across my lower chest and how he'd wiggled them inside the belted waist of my jeans. How, finding that too tight, he'd then pushed them between my legs that I'd found myself clamping tightly around his hand and whimpering in his ear as I felt the pressure right on my pussy. The pressure similar to that I was feeling now. I recalled vividly how my body had reacted to his hand for it was just as it was reacting to my hand right now.

As I stroked and caressed my pussy fumbling my ultra-sensitive clitoris from its protective hood so my mind and body exploded with sensations and emotions. Just as we had earlier in the kitchen when he'd pushed me backwards until the back of my legs were pressed against the large pine table. He pushed more so that I fell back flat on the table my feet off the ground and my legs hanging over the edge, slightly open. They'd continued exploding as one of his hands had roughly rubbed between my legs while the other pinched and squeezed my breasts so hard he made me wince with pain, but also gasp with pleasure.

I knew that laying on that on my kitchen table my blouse undone, my breasts pulled from my bra and with Glenn's hand between my legs that I'd started to cum. Just as I was starting to cum now. Whether it was that or the somewhat sordidness of being half undressed on the kitchen table or whether it was realising the enormity of what was happening as Glenn tore his belt open and started pushing his jeans down I didn't know. But from somewhere I found the resolve to stop him. I pushed him off, sat up and said that we had to stop. The look on his face scared me a little as he said that he couldn't. But I managed to insist, somehow. He tried hard to persuade me to continue. He crushed me in his arms, pawed at my breasts and tried to undo my belt. He pressed my hand against his rigid erection and told me how much he "wanted to fuck me." It had been a tremendous effort on my part, but I managed. I pushed him off and got off the table. He again took me in his arms and pressed me back against the wall shoving his knee between my thighs and his erection into my stomach; it felt so good I nearly succumbed to him as his hands pinched and kneaded my breasts. He was tearing at my belt trying to undo the complicated Gucci clasp that fortunately didn't give way too easily. I was telling him to stop, albeit probably rather half-heartedly for deep down a goodly part of me didn't want him to; like many woman I have a fascination for forced sex, near rape if you want. He kept on. I managed to break away and started to leave the kitchen but once more he grabbed me this time from behind. The feeling of his cock pressing right against my arse in the tight jeans thrilled my, but I didn't want it to. His hands around me, one on my tits the other rubbing my down my stomach, onto my mound and slightly between my legs had excited me so much I nearly gave in, but again I fought, amazing myself at my resistance given just how much I wanted affection and needed to be fucked. He was just too powerful though and he'd pushed me forward against the work surface so that I was bent over with my chest squashed against the granite surface, my boobs feeling the coldness on the bare flesh. All the time I had been saying we had to stop, that it was wrong, that we shouldn't do it as all the time he had been pleading for me to let him undress me, let him make love to me and saying that there was nothing wrong with it really. As he again tried to undo my belt I had begged him to stop and suddenly he did. He apologised saying that he'd just got too excited and had been carried away. I'd smiled in understanding as, with him looking on, I had rather embarrassedly eased my boobs back into my bra, done up the buttons on my blouse and tucked it back into my jeans. "Don't worry luv, I do understand" I said very truthfully half withing now that I hadn't stopped him. God how this was messing with my mind and body.

All those memories flooded through me as I lay in that chair with my hands between my legs. My fingers became Glenn's cock. The long, hard, young cock I'd felt through his jeans. The cock that had pressed deep into my belly and had so thrilled me when it was pressed against my bum. The cock that at that moment I'd like to be inside me. Yes the cock of my young nephew that I was imagining was fucking me. It wasn't my three fingers that were pumping in and out of my cunt, but Glenn's hard, youthful cock. And in my mind it wasn't my fingers that brought on the shuddering climax but Glenn's dick that was fucking me hard and deep. As I climaxed so wonderfully I was thinking two things: 'Incest in these circumstances isn't too bad, is it?' "Wouldn't it be wonderful if Glen walked into the study right now?'

*

Glenn had gone to his room immediately after we had eaten dinner almost in silence.

"Early start tomorrow," he'd explained, "lots of studying to do."

"Hope it goes well," I' had replied. "Sleep tight."

"Oh I don't think I'll do that."

"Oh. Why?"

"I'm sure you can guess why," he replied rather gruffly.

"Look Glenn I'm sorry for this afternoon I should never have let it go that far. It was my fault and I apologise."

Ever since the episode in the kitchen I had reprimanded myself for letting him start anything, for my enthusiastic response and for letting things get out of control. What had happened in the back of the car was bad enough, but could just about be blamed on the booze; there was nothing I could blame for what I had let happen this afternoon. I knew that in a way I'd led him on and I realised how hard it is for men to stop when we've gone as far as we had. I was the older, more mature and experienced of us, I was his aunt and it was my responsibility to set and apply standards. I had failed abysmally.

I continued. "Can't you see how wrong it is Glenn? Phillipa, your mother, my sister has entrusted you to my care. How can I abuse that responsibility? How could ever look her in the eye again if we made love? I don't know how I'll be able to now even."

"But I want you so much Cat," he replied taking my hand. "And I know you want me, you said so."

"Please Glenn don't let's go there again. Please just let's stop now."

"OK I'll stop but I know you want me and one day I'll have you. I'll be there when you're ready for me."

After that Glenn had gone to his room and had missed Richard's announcement about going away.

In his room Glenn thought of little else than Cat. He'd come so close to making it with her this afternoon and the fact that he hadn't only served to make him want her even more. He'd always had a big thing for older women and in the few years he'd been sexually active he'd been lucky several times. He'd had four older women including one that he paid for, one he'd met on a plane, one that he worked with on a vacation job and one that was one of his mum's best friends. He was sure that Cat was going to be the fifth.

As he undressed and showered his mind also ran over the events of the afternoon. He tried to think whether there was anything he could have done differently. Whether perhaps he could have been more forceful?

Like he had with his mum's friend he recalled his cock hardening as he thought of the rather overweight woman he'd fucked on the floor of her lounge just a few houses down the road from his parents' house. They'd chatted a few times, he'd done some work in her garden and she'd given him a couple of beers. One thing had led to another and a few days later they'd kissed. No more happened that day for her husband was due home, but she had asked if he would cut the grass the next morning. He knew full well the bloody grass didn't need cutting, He knew that it was just a pretence to get him there at a time when her kids would be at school and hubby at work. He was sure he was going to score with his fourth older woman.

She'd tried to say no he remembered when really she meant yes. She'd played at trying to stop him after he'd had his tongue in her mouth, after sh'd let him squeeze her big soft tits and after he'd shoved his hand up her skirt onto her rather chubby thighs. She'd said no when he got his dick out. Said no when he pushed her skirt up round her waist and said no when he turned her round and bent her over the back of a chair. She'd, half-heartedly he thought, tried to stop him when he pulled her big knickers down round her thighs, but he knew she didn't really mean it. She was just embarrassed at a near forty year old wanting to be fucked by a kid so many years younger. She didn't really put up much of a fight when he pressed his cock against her big, round arse. She didn't try to get away, although she did ask him to stop a couple of times when he pressed his rigid prick right against her cunt lips that, he noticed with a smug satisfaction were soaking wet. And once he was up her she soon stopped the dithering and hesitation and she let him fuck her twice in quick succession, almost screaming with pleasure at the multi-orgasms he gave her.

He'd known it would be like that for he was sure she wouldn't cause any rumpus in the small community where they lived on Vancouver Island. How could she explain away why he was in her house? How could she say that she'd asked him there and that she'd let him play with her tits and stroke her thighs?

And that's how it might have to be with Cat he thought as he lay down on his bed and started stroking his cock. If she didn't come across willingly then he knew he'd have her forcibly. After all she wanted him, she fancied him and was turned on by him. It was only the silly old convention of not having sex with relatives and his age that was stopping her. And he determined that wasn't going to stop him. If push came to shove he would have to make up her mind for her! Somehow, he thought as his strokes became longer, he'd have her. Someway, he reckoned as he felt his balls tightening, he'd get her clothes off, get those nice, big shapely tits out, get her naked and fuck her. And it wouldn't be just the once. No the gorgeous old biddy was going to find out just what it was like to have a young stud around. He would fuck her several, maybe five or six times in quick succession, as only guys of his tender years have the stamina to do. She wanted it and needed it. He knew that she and the wet dickhead Richard hardly had a sex life and guessed from the way she had reacted in the car and at first this afternoon that she was frustrated. He was also sure that once he'd fucked her few times in an afternoon or evening then she'd be back for more big time. He was looking forward to the rest of his time with Aunty Cat.

He resolved to himself as his climax built up. 'After all the silly old fart Richard didn't look after her so I will.'

And boy how he'd look after her he thought as he now slowed his strokes on his achingly hard cock holding back his climax. Oh yes he'd fuck her alright he was sure as his hips began to pump up and down on the bed. He'd fuck her so hard and so deep she'd beg for more he knew as he began fucking his hand. And he'd make her cum so hard and often she'd beg for more he thought as his cock erupted and stream after stream of his cum splattered onto his chest and stomach.

*

I didn't see either Richard or Glenn before they left the house the next morning for after my time in my study I'd gone to a spare room and had eventually fallen asleep around 3.30. That had been hard, for my mind was a whirl of conflicts.

The fact that I had reacted so enthusiastically to Glenn shocked me; particularly as it had happened twice. After all I never did that, well not often even though I had with Amanda. But that was different, having sex with another woman isn't cheating it's exploring one's sexuality, I believed or kidded myself. So was it just the sexual frustration brought about by sometimes going weeks between sex with Richard I pondered? My response to both questions had been quite extreme and that worried me as I couldn't really understand it. I'd never been like that in the past and other than the frustration I couldn't think of a reason as to why I should so relatively easily nowadays lose control of myself and become so enormously aroused, seemingly so easily. That it was happening in the chat rooms and with the lurid email exchanges I had with numerous men and women was bad enough, but letting it happen with such a young guy in reality was terrible and that it was happening with my nephew was unforgivable.