Mom, Aunt Clara & My Wandering Mind Pt. 03

Without swallowing, she looked up at me and smiled, then looked at my mother with a look of wanton lust.

Mom's eyes looked glazed over, her eyelids dropping like she was high on some type of aphrodisiac drug.

They seemed to be communicating wordlessly, an extrasensory conversation between sisters, an offer, and an agreement. They leaned closer together and just when my mind was about to register that this could not be happening, it was happening.

Mom's lips met Aunt Clara's and they kissed. Mom groaned. I could tell they were Frenching, their tongues dancing together, though their mouths were completely locked together. And still, I realized, Aunt Clara had not yet swallowed.

They broke their kiss and Aunt Clara leaned back. Only then did she swallow, then licked her lips and swallowed again.

Oh, my gawd I groaned quietly. That's the hottest thing I've ever seen.

Then Mom looked back at me, her eyes still drugged, her mouth still closed, but smirking. She leaned down, planting her lips on mine, then opened them slightly, just enough for her tongue to slip toward mine.

Our tongues touched and I tasted it. Slightly salty, but not unappealing. The taste of my cum, inside my own mouth.

Mom opened her mouth more, and a rush of my semen swelled from her mouth and into mine. Our lips mashed together as some of my seed escaped to my mouth and chin. Our kissing grew sloppy, my face coated with my cum, Mom licking it up and feeding it back to my waiting mouth.

"Swallow," she ordered and I did.

"Yes, Mom," I replied and she started kissing me again.

She found more of my semen, I don't know from where, and fed it to me. I accepted it all, swallowed it all, then resumed our kissing until the only flavor on my lips was from Mom and not me.

We smooched some more, our kisses turning from frantic lust-filled mashing to gentle motherly pecks until she lowered her head to my shoulder and purred into my ear.

"Oh, I love you so much, Andy," she cooed.

"I love you, too, Mom," I whispered as my head fell back to the awaiting throw pillows.

"We still have more to go over, Andrew," Aunt Clara said flatly, reminding me that we apparently hadn't finished going over the ground rules of my 'alternative' therapy.

"We still haven't discussed your obligations to your mother," she said directly. "You're not the only one who will need attention. You must not be selfish. Your mother did not raise you like that and I certainly won't allow it either. You should be a selfless man and a generous lover."

Again, my eyes shot open. Is she saying what I think she's saying?!

"But... I suppose you do need to recover. I'm sure this is all quite a shock to your system despite your problem with obsessive masturbation. This will be an all-new level, I'm sure. Oh, by the way," she interrupted herself. "You're not to masturbate yourself anymore. You can only do so with a caregiver present, and then only if we permit it. Do you understand?"

"Y... yes, Aunt Clara... Yes, ma'am."

"Very good. I believe you've also accumulated eight spankings,"

"Nine, by my count," Mom corrected smugly.

"Is it eight or nine, Andrew?" Aunt Clara asked with one eyebrow raised, making me suspect she already knew the answer and was testing me.

"I... think it was nine, too, Aunt Clara," I grudgingly confirmed.

"Very good then. We'll administer those before you go to bed. In the meantime, just relax and regain your strength. You'll need to build up your stamina for your treatments. We'll work on that, too."

She patted my thigh approvingly. "Now let your mother and I up. We need to discuss a few more things in private in the kitchen."

I must have shown some measure of apprehension on my face.

"It will all be okay, Andrew. As a caregiver, she needs to understand her rights and responsibilities, as well. Now, close your eyes. We'll let you rest... for now."

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A final note to the reader:

Thanks for taking the time to read this installment in the 'Mom, Aunt Clara & My Wandering Mind' series. I hope you're enjoying it!

Now it's your turn and please don't be bashful! Votes are appreciated but feedback means more.

Got a story idea? Pass it on. I won't promise anything, but it's still fun to hear what others think might make for a good story.

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-BizMe