Incestory: Reunions

"Perhaps you've had enough!" he argued. "And I'm old enough to know that we can't marry."

"Perhaps ... I have had enough," she said quietly relinquishing the bottle to him.

He smiled wryly at her.

She couldn't resist the temptation and kissed him lightly on the lips to wipe away the grin.

"We can still ... enjoy each other's company, can we not?" he ventured.

"Chancer!" she squealed in a high-pitched voice, like she was chastising a small child. "And you should be kinder to your Mum ... you resemble her more than a little."

"As do you!" he laughed.

She rolled off of him abruptly, found the cork, and stopped the bottle.

"Is that why you pursue me?" she asked over her shoulder, her eyes taunting him again.

"The lassies in my family are particularly ravishing!"

"Hah!" she laughed, "You've been found out, Scoundrel!"

He bowed in defeat: "You have me now!"

She sensed he was staring at her again.

She looked at him sideways and smiled nervously: "Why do you keep staring at me like that?"

"I want you - even if I can't marry you," he stated emphatically.

"What? You're mad!" She laughed nervously, "I'm your Aunt!"

"I want to be with you ... whenever I can, I don't care what I have to do," his eyes held a longing that she'd seen in many a man's eyes but it shocked her to realize that, this time, it was her own Nephew professing his love to her.

"Charlie ..."

"I've been waiting a year to see you!"

"Enough!" She barked at him and he froze, a flicker of anger replacing the lust in his gaze.

He jerked away from her and tried to stand - she grabbed his wrist to stop him and he relented; letting her pull him back to the soft earth at the base of the tree.

"Forgive me; I've been a Tart," she admitted, handing him back the wine, "Tis only a stepmother would blame you."

The Cicadas began their song again and Mary used the chance to run her fingers through his sandy-brown hair ... to soothe him until the Cicadas exhausted themselves.

"Would you?" he asked her, "If you could?"

"Marry you?" she asked.

He looked down to avoid her gaze; she put her forehead to his. Her scent was intoxicating, exotic, and something Continental - it only made her closeness seem more unbearable.

"Not this year," she admonished, realizing as she did, that she'd just made a reply he might perceive as an offer.

"To Next Year!" he toasted, throwing back his head and gulping from the bottle.

She considered rescinding but stopped herself ... perhaps letting him have a fantasy about her would be okay? It thrilled her a little to think it might.

He offered the bottle to her to share in the toast - to seal the pact.

She hesitated for a moment, indecision gripping her, then she took the bottle from him and gazed into his eyes as she drank.

Perhaps, she thought to herself, he wasn't the only one who needed the fantasy.

She set the wine down in the grass and laid her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly - like a lover.

"You're done with school then?" she asked meaningfully, as if it mattered.

He ran his fingers through her hair in his turn, admiring the ratios of the shades of light brown, blonde, black, and bright red strands that blended together into her exceptionally rich auburn.

"I've been considering going to University," he replied. "There's been some interesting breakthroughs ... a whole new field has developed in Biology recently. I'm sure a man could find great success in such pursuits."

"A man who would see an end to our dear Cicadas?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes," he replied, admiring her hair again. "I believe I find humanity's biology much more interesting these days."

*****************************

He was reading a science journal in the backyard, the sky was cloudy and threatening rain but he ignored it, too engrossed in the minutiae of scientific concepts he hoped would someday be his field of study, to notice.

His Mother strolled into the yard through the French Doors behind him. He turned in the lawn chair to see her.

She wore a sunhat and sundress very similar to the one Mary had been wearing the first time they'd reunited. She wore gardening gloves and carried a small pail filled with various gardening implements.

She caught his gaze and smiled.

"Don't catch flies," she warned.

He turned back around abruptly and attempted to resume reading his journal but found he'd suddenly lost all interest in it. He tried to read the words and symbols over and over but their meaning jumbled into a meaningless mess compared to the rush the adrenaline coursing through his veins at the site of his Mother in a sundress caused him.

"What's gotten into you, Charlie?" his Mother asked, a concerned tone in her voice.

"What?" he stammered, and sat up on the chair so that he was at least partially facing her as they conversed, "What do you mean?"

She set down the pail and put her gloved hands on her wide hips.

"You've been like this since the Reunion," she walked to him and knelt beside him. The dress slid above her knees and her large alabaster breasts threatened to pop her buttons, "What've you been up to?"

He set down the book on the chair and looked down at his hands.

"Charlie ... Dear?" his Mother said quietly, "You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right?"

"No," he replied, "I can't."

She balanced herself by placing her hands on his knees.

"I know you've been ... been talking to my Sister," she said accusingly, "despite my instructions."

"Yes," he responded, "What of it?"

"Charlie, you really need to understand that she's a bit mad! And she's done terrible things -she's a right Tart ...!"

"Shut your mouth!" he barked at her.

She jerked back in shock and surprise at the ferocity of his reaction.

"She's not mad!" he countered, "Maybe it's you and Father - and all of the rest of the fucking geezers in this ..."

He saw the fire in her eyes a moment before she struck him, he never had time to react, and the blow was so fierce it nearly knocked him from the lawn chair.

Though he was far superior to her physically, he had no wish to strike her back, he'd have let her bludgeon him to death first - but he wasn't about to let her insult Mary without defending her.

"Striking me doesn't change a thing!" he spat.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" she cried out and stood so that she seemed to tower over him, "You mean to be her lover?"

Charlie looked up at her in shock - just as surprised at the obvious truth of her words as she.

"I do love her!" he admitted.

His Mother buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

"Get out of my sight!" she screamed at him "Go to your room!"

*****************************

Charlie watched his Mother through the dirty window of his bedroom as she worked in the garden just below him.

From his vantage point he could see most of her large freckled breasts filling the top of the dress and most of her thick white legs as the dress bunched around her wide hips.

Before he realized it, he was reaching into his trousers, caressing his hardening knob, watching her as she struggled with replacing the weeds that had sprouted along the foundation of the house with flowers.

He slowly increased the speed of his hand up and down his shaft, imagining his Mother was as naughty and free spirited as her Sister, imagining himself planting himself between her generous fat tits, imagining her white gloved hands wanking him as he came on her face.

She turned her attention to another bed of weeds along the trellis directly below him and now he could see the contours of her wide bottom jiggling beneath the clingy material of her dress.

He imagined fucking her, mounting her, burying his cum deep inside her.

She turned her head up and caught his gaze through the glass just as he came in his hands - images of his Aunt blending with the images of his Mother in his mind as his cum overflowed his palm and dripped onto his leg in thick streaming globs from between his fingers.

*****************************

"Hello, Aunt Mary!"

"Hello, Little Vagabond," she called to him. "I've been expecting you!"

She wore tight white Capri trousers and a button-up blouse tied up to bare her sexy flat navel.

She struck a pose; her hips canted, long gorgeous red hair flowing over her shoulders, the button-up shirt all but unbuttoned so that he could see nearly all of her breasts - all but the nipples.

"You have?" he asked.

"Aye, as a matter of fact."

He let his eyes trace the contours of her thin alabaster abdomen and the curve of her hips, the lines of her long legs, the sexy sandals with straps that wrapped around her ankles.

"You haven't complimented me yet?" she admonished.

"You look wonderful, beautiful, utterly amazing!"

"Charmer!" she clapped and giggled, happy that he'd demonstrated that he still wanted to play their game.

"Join us at the party," he insisted.

"I'd rather not," she stated.

"Alright, then," he waved and turned as if to leave.

She folded her arms across her chest and pouted: "You can't be serious!"

He stopped and smiled back at her.

"Alright," he said as if in resignation, "Then I'll have to miss the party too."

She ducked behind the tree, emerging from the other side with a gigantic bottle of wine cradled under her nearly bare breasts - a wicked smile on her lips.

*****************************

She sat in his lap on the swing, the half-full wine bottle between her knees. Charlie held her face and kissed her, finding her willing, her soft tongue yielding to his.

"I don't think that a woman of my age," she protested as he ran his palms over her sexy abdomen, "should be consorting with such a young man."

"It's immoral," he whispered into her ear, "You shouldn't!"

She guided his other hand between her legs and swirled her hips so that his palm pressed into her.

"I am wrong to let you do this."

Charlie pressed his fingers into her engorged mound as if he was willing to tear the Capris to get at her.

The bottle tumbled to the ground and rolled a few yards away.

"The wine ..." he started to say but she silenced him with a passionate kiss.

"More concerned with wine than your woman, Vagabond?" she laughed.

"Weren't you asking me to stop?"

"Yes ... you must stop!" she purred into his lips.

Charlie noted the remaining wine didn't spill out and relaxed enough to resume kissing her back.

She swayed and moaned with the movements of his hand. The rhythmic swirling of his fingers pushing and pulling the tenderest part of her in different directions.

"I'm sorry," she put her hand over his again. "I can't let you!"

She guided his hand into the top of the capris. She was trimmed, her short dark-red hair a guide for his hungry fingers.

"You shouldn't put your hand there!"

She squeezed her legs together as their probing digits worked their magic on her throbbing clit.

"Don't touch me like that," she whispered, "or put your fingers in me!"

She pushed his middle fingers into her cunt.

"I love you!" He sighed.

She turned her face to his and kissed him urgently as she swirled her hips to his thrusting hand.

She could feel his cock pressing into her and if she had to guess, she'd guess that it was as large as she'd hoped it would be.

They found her spot together and she guided him in the art of pleasuring a woman.

After a few more moments she was shivering in the throes of a small trembling orgasm.

She let his hand loose from between her locked thighs and pulled it to her mouth, kissing and licking each finger in turn, until they were clean.

Charlie ground into her bottom, eager to find his own release.

"Don't make me do this, Charlie!" Mary murmured as she slid off of his lap and onto the grass so that she was between his knees. "It's just too wicked!"

"Mary," he gasped, "I really do love you!"

She looked up at him with a satisfied grin.

"I mean it!" He looked down at her with a serious expression, "I've never been with anyone but ... I'm still a virgin!"

"Hah," she laughed.

"What?" he asked in sudden embarrassment.

"Tis irony, is all!" She looked up at him, barely restraining herself, "I'm Marry and you're the bloody virgin!"

"Not for long I hope!"

She unzipped him and discovered that she had trouble freeing his enormous rock hard knob from his shorts. She lost patience and yanked them down, freeing him, grabbing him to guide the tip to her lips.

She took him in her mouth and smiled.

He leaned back in the swing, dug his heels into the grass, and moaned as the primal sensation of a hot warm mouth and probing wet tongue around his dick for the first time overcame his senses.

The fact that she was his beautiful aunt only made his balls swell more.

She wrapped two fingers around him to wank him into her mouth.

He pulled her head away from his cock and into his lap, sliding his less sensitive shaft over her lips to try to hold back a few more moments.

"I can't stop!" he gasped.

She looked up at him, catching his eye as she ran her tongue from the base of his balls back to the tip of his twitching penis.

When she put her lips on the tip of his cock, she squeezed his shaft and tugged, forcing a generous glob of precum out of him and onto her lips before she whisked it away with her tongue.

He gaped at her and moaned in pleasure.

"Are you sure you can manage this?" she asked, a warning tone in her voice.

"Since I was old enough to toss off," he replied.

"You did not!" she laughed and kissed his tip again, catching another small spurt of precum on her lips.

He just nodded and smiled.

"You are really going to enjoy this then!"

"Are you sure you won't mind?"

She smiled wickedly and took him slowly back into her mouth, spreading the precum on her lips around the head of his cock to lubricate it.

"Aaaaah!" he grunted as the cum surged out of his nuts, filling her mouth so fast that her cheeks puffed before she could swallow it.

He lunged with every squirt, she caught each in her mouth as he bucked and rolled his hips in ecstasy until eventually, the spurts wound down to a trickle. She continued to wank on him until he was completely drained.

She looked him in the eye and opened her mouth to show him the creamy pool of cum she'd collected.

He could only stare in amazement at the display.

She tipped her head back and gulped the load of cum down like an oyster, wiping her chin dramatically with her long ivory tipped fingers.

"Cor!" Charlie gasped, sweat pouring down his face. "Where'd you learn that?"

He realized his error immediately ... even before anger twisted her features.

"Bastard!"

She pushed him away, forcing him to stand up or fall out of the swing, and turned her face away from him in shame.

"I'm sorry!" he blurted, "I didn't mean ...!"

"Fuck off!"

Tears welled in his eyes and he felt like he would literally die.

"Mary, please!"

She put her hand on his chest but still wouldn't look at him.

"Please!" he begged again.

He sat stiffly in the swing and pulled her chin up so that he could see her face. She kept her eyes turned away defiantly.

"I am very sorry ... how can I prove it to you?" he begged.

She sniffled and a tear ran down her cheek.

"Please, tell me!"

She finally looked back at him.

"Kiss me then," she challenged, "If you truly love me."

He leaned in and kissed her with every bit of tenderness and love he could muster. He could taste his salty hot cum coating her tongue but he persevered, determined to prove he would do anything for her forgiveness.

She put her thin hands to his chest and pushed him away gently.

"Well done, Little Vagabond," she said and stood, "I shall forgive you this once."

*****************************

His Mother was leaning against his car in the car park when he emerged from the wood.

He'd left a few hours before they were due to leave so they'd travelled to the Reunion separately - and he'd failed to make an appearance.

She'd come looking for him.

She wore a simple but elegant one piece sleeveless dress that fell about mid thigh, with a thin belt and plain sandals. The dress emphasized her breasts but hid the rest of her form down to her thick thighs.

Her hair was in a loose updo that seemed ready to fall at a moment's notice.

Her eyes were steady and appeared calm but her jaw was clenched in anger.

"Mum," he acknowledged.

"You're drunk!" she observed.

He held up the bottle for her to see.

"To yer health!" he drank from the bottle and offered it to her.

Her eyes flicked from the bottle back to his eyes and back again a few times before she finally reached out to take the bottle from him.

"We need to go somewhere," she stated and tipped the bottle, "to have a talk."

"I don't want to talk about anything," he protested.

"You will," she promised.

*****************************

He sat on the hood of his car; his Mother leaned into him, her back to his chest, between his legs. He rested his chin on her bare right shoulder and combed her beautiful red hair over her left with his fingers while she watched the moon set over the moor and bared her soul to him.

She was nearly as pissed as he was, the wine bottle now empty and discarded.

She'd told him about her childhood ... and Mary's as well.

Her words were slurred and the more she drank, the thicker her accent became, nearly to the point of unintelligibility.

Despite the alcohol, she'd managed to tell him how her Father had taken a liking to Mary when she was very young. How his Mother had put herself between the man and the child to protect her youngest sibling.

She'd sacrificed her dignity - and her virginity - to protect Mary's maidenhood.

She wasn't enough for him. He'd been insatiable, and when Mary had come of age, he'd taken her too despite her best efforts.

Mary enjoyed being their Father's favourite just as she had. She'd reveled in the attentions and the gifts he'd proffer for her services.

After Mary had shared his bed, he never rewarded Charlie's Mother with anything more but a rough shagging, bending her over his chair or pulling her into his lap and tossing her aside when he was finished ... but Mary ... well, Mary was treated much differently from then on.

"She was the one he loved," she pulled Charlie's hands around her soft thick waist so that her full breasts rested on his arms.

"He told me that she was the one that they'd been tryin' for ... the one with all the right qualities - I didn't understand."

"I don't understand," he admitted.

"I wasn't good enough for him," she sobbed, "I wasn't what he wanted."

She put her face in her hands and cried softly.

"And the worst of it is ... I wanted to be the one he wanted more than anything!"

Charlie held her more tightly to himself in an attempt to calm her.

"She took him from me and now he's gone and ...," she wiped her eyes but the tears wouldn't stop, "Now, she's gotten at you."

"Mum," Charlie said softly into her bare white neck, "I want you ... and Mary."

She tensed and gripped his arms.

"I know, Charlie," she admitted, "Don't think I haven't noticed ..."

He abruptly pulled her over his leg and onto the hood of the car beside him, rolled on top of her, spread her legs with his body and gently kissed away her tears.

"I need you," he said with an intensity she'd missed seeing in young men's eyes.

"Just this once," he kissed her full pouty lips tenderly, "This one night - you and I."

She gripped his face in her hands and kissed him back hungrily for a moment before pulling his head away enough so that she could speak.

"Just this once?" she asked, "Will you swear an oath to me?"

His heart pounded and sweat formed on his brow.