My Sister's Wedding Pt. 05

It was the day of my sister's wedding, and my aunt was giving me trouble.

She looked up at me with her purplish eyes, batting her beautiful eyelashes with a striking effect. The summer dress left most of her arms bare, and the rest of it, with a floral pattern, was very elegant. With her thick brown hair in curls, with her wide straw hat, she could have walked into one of the Queen of Britain's garden parties.

But she was dead now, wasn't she?

The dreams we have of a beautiful aristocrat seducing and using us until we are nothing but an empty shell would not have seemed out of place with my aunt as the main character.

"Please?" she repeated. "Follow me to the store?"

I had to say something. My mom stood right there, waiting.

I swallowed. "Sure, auntie ..."

"You sure?" she asked me. "You don't look so sure."

My cousin had told me that her mother and my aunt was some kind of sadistic monster that wanted nothing less than to rape me. But when she smiled like that, fluttered her eyelashes again, I had to think that my cousin had made everything up, like my mother had made everything up to suck my cock in the car. She hadn't really needed to use the restroom.

People lied to get what they wanted from me. Maybe it was my magical cousin that was the sick fuck? And somehow, it felt worse to say no to her and my mother than to imagine the possibility that it would all turn out horrible. If I behaved rudely, I wouldn't hear the end of it, especially at my sister's wedding.

"No, I'm sure," I said. But I lied.

My god, what took them so long? Why weren't they married already? The priest didn't waste no time, I knew. Now we had all this time to go shopping too!

"Take my car," mom said. "It's already adjusted to him. Long legs and all."

"Yes," my aunt said, smiling, "my car is much smaller than yours."

Forcing myself to laugh with the two sisters I walked with them to the parking lot. On our way I saw my cousin. She was glaring at me. I tried to tell her with my eyes that it wasn't my fault, and by the way, if she wanted to help, she could probably do something with her bloody ... But by then we were well past. If I wanted to say anything else, I had to break my own neck.

Meanwhile, my aunt never stopped touching me. Neither did my mom, and it lulled me into a false sense of security. Nothing could happen when I was between them, or alone with either of them, even if my mom sometimes, recently, turned into some kind of cock-whore. And to be honest, I could probably adjust to that, given time. It was unorthodox, sure, but on the other hand her mouth felt amazing.

I stiffened in my tight pants as my mom rubbed my arm one last time before she closed the door to the driver's seat. My aunt slipped into the shotgun seat. I had to tear my eyes away from her well-formed chest as the seatbelt went over it. I accidently rubbed myself when I put mine on.

"Ah!" I shouted.

"What did you say, dear?" she asked.

"Nothing, I must have hit a nerve."

"Be careful, please. We wouldn't want anything to happen on your sister's wedding now, would we?"

"No," I said, and we laughed together. She seemed to mean every word of it.

In fact, it all seemed terribly normal. As I drove along, we talked about family stuff, about what my other cousins were doing. Nothing much. She didn't touch me, or insinuate anything. In fact, I got a little disappointed. Here we had a clearcut case were both lust and taboo met, and nothing happened!

Maybe it has to be with someone I don't want to have sex with, I though as I signaled to turn right, to the supermarket.

"No," she said and gripped my arm.

"Why?" I asked.

"I remember, I have a couple of bottles at home, non-alcoholic stuff," she said dreamingly.

"Oh," I replied and turned off the signal.

Cars honked behind me, but never mind. The longer we stayed away, the shorter amount of time I had to step on my toes to avoid anyone I really didn't want to have sex with. Besides, this was nice. We listened to the radio. She smiled. Fuck, I thought, she's beautiful. I risked a glance at her legs.

The neighborhood my aunt lived in was nicer than ours, with plenty of green between buildings. She waved to one of her next-door neighbors, explained what we were doing. Then she unlocked the door and I followed her in.

"The drinks are down here," she said, leading the way down the basement stairs, turning on a flickering light on her way.

I saw a couple of cases, but apparently that wasn't it, because she made me follow her even further, to a massive door.

"I keep the best stuff in here," she said over her shoulder.

Her summer outfit, her elegant makeup, made her ghostly in the dim and dusty corridor. I wanted to reach out and touch her, but before I had a chance, she opened the door and dragged me into a deep darkness.

I couldn't see a thing, and then she locked the door behind us.

"It's really dark in here," I said to lighten the mood.

"Be careful," she said. "There's a lot of stuff in here. Here, take my arm."

I reached out, and I actually yelped with pain as she used her pretty hands and nails to hold me steady. She seemed to know her way around, because she didn't stumble once as she led me to a comfortable, straight-backed chair. Leather, I thought. Something went over my wrists. Her hands, I imagined, before I tried to lift them and found that I couldn't, in the dark, and suddenly I couldn't sense her anywhere.

Something clamped my ankles in place!

"Auntie?" I asked, shifting nervously.

"I'm here, dear," she said.

"What happened to the lights?" I asked.

"Nothing wrong with the lights, just sit tight."

Crisp, white light came on suddenly, and I blinked against the pain. I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks.

A pretty mouth gasped with excitement. "Are you crying?" my aunt asked.

"No, it's just the light."

"Oh," she said. "Never mind."

Clearing my eyes, I finally saw her standing in front of me, everything the same except for a couple of shiny latex-gloves that went over her elbows. Also, the hat was gone, comfortably lying on top of a black leather bench of some kind. At first, I thought it was a gym. Then I thought, oh ...

Trying to tear myself away from the chair I saw my beautiful aunt take a couple of steps in the dungeon, stroking some of the furniture like an old lover. She looked tiny next to the heavy, leather-covered wood and steel, but she smiled down at me like anything but.

"Summer dress and latex gloves," she mused. "Who would've thought?"

I tried to smile. "We're going to be late for the wedding."

"Nonsense," she said, walking a couple of steps in my direction. Her heels barely sounded on the latex-covered floor. I could hear myself panting. "We've got all the time in the world, my dear nephew. There's a quiz."

She crouched in front of me, sliding her black latex-arms up my tight thighs, making me feel her strength. One of her hands slipped over my bulge and she smiled a pretty smile when she found me ready and thick, already dripping in my pants.

I couldn't stop myself from moaning. I was so sensitive.

With comfortable motions she unbuckled my pants and never hesitating she dragged them and my underwear off, down to my firmly locked ankles. I was standing before her and she drugged herself with the sight of it. Somehow, I was even bigger than the last time, but at the same time bruised and battered. Her eyes widened with lust.

But before she did anything with it, she opened my shirt, tore the tie from my neck and hung if over the back of the chair. Her shiny fingers tickled my belly and chest all the way up. She stroked my face. The friction from her gloves made me wince.

Standing up, she looked me over, seemingly impressed.

"Who left you in this state?" she asked.

"It's a long story," I answered.

"I bet. You've been a bad boy, haven't you?"

I couldn't answer that. I simply hung my head. But she nodded with agreement.

Turning away from me, unwillingly, she went to a wall-mounted chest. Searching through it she hummed to herself, until she said, "Yes," with a deep and sultry voice.

It was a giant butt plug, with a battery of some sort hanging from it. She held it in her hands, close to her chest, like a parody of a bouquet.

"Please?" I begged of her.

"Good boys get their pleases, but bad boys please me," she said, moving towards me.

She moved to one side, and turning something underneath the chair I suddenly felt cool air flowing down there. Something squirted, and then I felt her fingers penetrating me.

"Auntie!"

"Yes, dear?" she said. "Do you want more lube?"

"Yes, please," I said, my voice quivering.

"Such a good boy," she said, and while her fingers where still inside of me she leaned on my buckled arm and kissed me on the cheek with her sweet lips. Her breath smelled of flowers and champagne.

Using what felt like a gallon of lube she finally stretched me enough for her taste, but I still felt it when she forced the butt plug inside of me, and then securing it somehow, because I couldn't even move my hips anymore. Flipping a switch with what I guessed was her clean hand, I felt a ...

"Oh, my god, Jesus ..." I moaned as a torrent of pleasure started vibrating against my prostate. My cock answered immediately, started to drool like a politically incorrect word. And it grew even bigger. I almost pushed my eyes out of their sockets. It grew so much it hurt.

My aunt couldn't speak. She was staring as intently as me, but with a domineering lust instead of panic. Not thinking about it she wiped herself clean on my shirt.

"Oh, no ..." I said. I didn't have any spare.

But I couldn't really focus on the future. I had never felt anything like it. I had never had a prostate examination before, but I couldn't believe this was what that felt like. It felt like a mixture of small orgasms and a need to pee constantly coursing through my cock, making me babble like an idiot.

Wait ... Could you still say idiot?

My eyes started to blink uncontrollably. My IQ dropped with every pain-pleasurable pulse.

I barely even felt it when my aunt started to stroke me, her hands dripping with lube. But after I noticed, I couldn't stop thinking about it, stop seeing my summer party aunt stroking me with latex-covered hands. Not even when I closed my eyes. I could still see her. If I died right now, I knew this was what heaven would look and feel like. Or hell. My aunt doing this to me for eternity.

When I was able to open my eyes again, I saw my aunt licking her shiny, red lips, opening her soft, pink mouth, swallowing saliva like the shiny strands of precum down the side of my cock between her hands. Every time she came close with her lips, she backed off again. Sometimes she was close enough to almost touch it. I could feel her warm breath on me!

My horror was real. I could barely stand what was happening right now. It was too much of everything. Still, I wanted nothing more than to feel everything my beautiful aunt could do to me.

And she opened her mouth, spreading her lips wide, leading the way with her tongue. It swirled in the air before it caressed the tip of my cock and --

"No!" I screamed, but my aunt shut me up with a tight grip on my cockhead, making me cry with pain. She was listening to something.

"What is it now?" she muttered and picked herself up off the floor. Slowly she tugged the gloves off her. Underneath the skin was red and covered with sweat.

I turned my head from side to side. "Please, I can't stand it. Please, auntie?"

"There is someone at the door," she said and opened the door to the rest of the basement, and then I could hear the bell too. "Won't be a moment," she promised as she closed the door behind her.

After the shock, I flung my head against the back of the chair, feeling my tie gliding to the floor. But after I was done with my internal screaming, I once again had to adjust myself to the unyielding sensation coming from the butt plug. It teased me now, nothing more, and I longed for my aunt to come back and put me out of my misery. I could feel my precum collecting under my testicles, smearing me all the way to my plugged asshole. Which I still couldn't move. It felt like torture, sitting still like this. Because it was the only part of me that I could move I continued to smack my head against the back of the chair. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump ...

"Is someone there?" I heard someone asking from the other side of the door.

"Yes, please!" I shouted. I didn't care if it was a noisy neighbor, didn't worry about the police investigation that was sure to follow. "I'm in here, behind the door."

"Okey," the voice said, hesitating, but eventually I could hear the other person wiggle the door-handle on their side, and whoever it was finally opened the door.

"Mom?" I shouted. "What are you doing here?"

She walked through the door, and closed it behind her. She kept turning an eye on the rest of the equipment. I could understand that, but I desperately wanted her help and attention right now.

"What is going on down here?" she said, finally looking straight at me. "I waited until she went around the house to look and then I sneaked down here. I followed you from the ... But ..."

"I will explain," I promised. "Just get me out of this chair. Please!"

"Why?" she asked, edging closer. "How did you ..." Maybe she hadn't really looked before, but now she did. Her eyes, my cock, they had a life-long and passionate love affair over the span of two seconds. "Your aunt ..." she finally said. "Did she do this to you?"

She made it sound like something entirely different from what she had been doing earlier. And maybe it was. I didn't know anymore. This curse had thrown my sense of proportions out the window. Still, the tone of her voice made me blush, as if it was my fault.

"I'm so sorry, mom ..."

"But why?" she said, coming even closer. She could almost touch me with her outstretched hand.

"I don't know," I said, looking at her, filling my eyes with the familiarity of her, not really but almost managing to ignore the buzzing butt plug.

She rubbed at her sky-blue hips, flicking a lock of blonde hair from her forehead. Throwing herself down on her knees she grasped my naked thighs. I flinched.

"But why?" she repeated. "How could she leave you like this?"

Her eyes left mine, focusing on my cock instead. It twitched, as if it was happy to see her.

"You're so tense," she mumbled.

"Yeah ..." I said, and leaning my head against the back of the chair I finally gave up.

Her hands walked over my bare flesh, walked until they found my stiff cock. Then they started to explore it like a miracle, like a new toy. Slowly, she fingered my throbbing and leaking shaft, slipped when she happened upon a stream of precum.

"Oh my!" she said and collected a sample between her fingers. She sucked it between her lips. Moaning she looked up at me.

"Do you remember the fun we used to have, when you were little, when we played with the Italian meringue."

"Mom, that was this morning."

"Was it?" she asked. "Oh, but should we play that game again?"

"Yes, please."

Her hands started to stroke me up and down, using my precum as lube. She didn't ignore the head like my aunt had. Mom wanted everything to feel good. She was very nice that way.

"Um!" I moaned as her head reached up and swallowed me whole, every dripping, shaking inch of me. Of course, she couldn't take me completely, and after a while she gagged as I felt myself push against the back of her throat.

Pain and pleasure. Everything was pain and pleasure. I almost felt like a feeling but inanimate object, like a part of the chair. I didn't think I needed to eat, or drink, or sleep. Everything I could do was to sit here and feel 100 percent of what people did to me.

That was the reason I didn't protest when she stopped, raising her head and gulping down a mouthful of precum. She cleaned her lower lip with her finger.

"I think she's back," mom whispered, begging my pardon with her deep blue eyes. "But I'll be back. Trust me. Just ..." She couldn't help herself. In the middle of her worry, she stroked me a couple of times. "Hang in there, son."

Throwing herself off me she hurried to the door. She sneaked out and closed it behind her. She seemed to find another door out there, maybe behind the bottles, because she disappeared, and when I heard my aunt's high heels walking down the stairs, I didn't hear her shouting at my mother. She was safe. Me on the other hand ...

"I'm sorry about that," my aunt said. "I thought that we had an uninvited guest on our hands. My brown-nosed neighbor perhaps."

She gave the latex gloves a look, before shaking her elegant head. Her arms had recovered and were back to her milky-clean color.

"Now, where was I?" she asked herself, and smiling like a hunter she resumed the same position as before, unknowingly following my mother and her sister.

But this time, her hands, kneading my flesh like dough, made me feel every turn of her fingers over the butt plug's prostate massage. And this time she used the lube sparingly. She didn't really need it without her gloves. She paid extra attention to the head of my cock, feeling it like a connoisseur feeling a ripe and juicy plum. She bared her teeth like she wanted to take a bite right out of it. Instead, she only played with her white enamel over the sensitive tip, sliding the tip of her tongue between them just to give that extra glide. But she hadn't taken me into her mouth, not jet, and my whole body felt like nothing had happened since she had stopped herself, before my mother walked in.

I thought I was going insane.

At my most desperate she took me in her mouth, opened up her secrets to me. But not like my mother, not in a greedy, cock-hungry way, no.

I got a vision of all the other young men she'd had strapped to this chair, how she'd used them, taught herself on their flesh, for this special moment. Because, unlike my mother, she used the butt plug's vibration, used the sensation, matched it with her tongue, her lips, her hands. Even her teeth, teasing me, testing me. One of her hands fondled my balls, going under them to the pool of precum at their base. She even went beyond that, until her caresses moved around the base of the plug. Shaking it, she made me groan as a thick wad of precum forced itself between her lips.

My arms, legs, wanted to strike and kick the air, but I couldn't.

I could hear the other men crying, I could taste their tears on my face.

My aunt had this thing that she did, were she opened her pretty mouth up wide and put her tongue out. She glided her wet tongue down the back of my cockhead until her lips couldn't stretch anymore. Then she sucked on me, hard, and the pain was exquisite.

Maybe I was dead? Maybe I had died at the church, under the priest. She fucked me to death, and for my sins this was my punishment.

"Please, god," I prayed. And I was earnest too.

I don't think that my prayers were answered, because she stopped, and her drool dripped from her mouth on top of my pulsating cock. Because, just before she stopped, I had felt myself coming to an end.

She wasn't pleased either. Whatever this new thing was it spoiled her fun too.

She steadied herself by gripping the base of my cock, reminding me that I was just a piece of furniture. Then she swore to herself, she barely looked at me, before rushing to the door.

Immediately when she opened it, I knew something was wrong. Smoke came pouring in. No fire-alarm, though.

"Fucking hell!" she swore and hurried up the stairs. She didn't even close the door. I could hear her searching for the fire extinguisher, the kick of it as it got the release I so desperately needed.

With the door open, I saw my mother returning. She sneaked down the stairs, looking over her shoulder the entire way, before closing the door until just a peak was left open.