Now That Daddy's Gone Ch. 02

Aunt and nephew pawed, scratched and ground against each other attempting to illicit every scintilla of pleasure from their bodies.

Millie felt Peter's cock swell up inside her and then begin to convulse and quiver as he shot a load of hot semen deep inside her cunt. She ground against writhing in pleasure as her orgasm wracked her body. Peter crushed her lips with his to muffle her cries as he jackhammered his cock in and out of her cunt, rivulets of his semen ran down her thighs and soaked into her nylons.

When Millie had finished writhing and howling like a banshee Peter held onto her and she clung to him, her hair dripping with sweat, her cunt sopping with her vaginal juices and her nephew's ejaculate. Their kisses became less demanding, softer, almost sweet and tender. Peter kept her cradled in his arms and carried her to her bedroom and lay her on her bed.

He kissed her softly on the mouth.

She looked up at her nephew with new found respect and endearment. He was no boy; he was a better man than his father and she wanted to tell him so.

"We'll talk tomorrow," he whispered.

He closed the door to Millicent's room and saw that the bed lamp was on his mother's room.

Peter sighed and went into her room and closed the door. He smelled his mother's perfume before he saw her bundled under the covers shaking with rage and crying.

He strode over to the bed and ripped off the bedclothes.

"Stop that blathering, put on your stockings and heels and service your son. Do your duty as a devoted mother should," he ordered.

Meg stopped crying and looked up at her son standing naked in the moonlight, his muscles taut, his handsome face, his mighty cock still hard even after two orgasms.

She opened her arms and Peter dropped onto the bed and kissed his mother deeply.

"Put on your stockings and heels like I said. I need to feel myself inside you. I need to show you that I love you more than anything," he whispered, stroking her cheek.

The next morning things were tense at breakfast and little was said. Peter made Millicent get out of bed early and get dressed and join them.

"You're coming with me today Aunt Millicent," Peter said authoritatively.

Before his mother could whine Peter cut her off.

"This has nothing to with last night mother; I need to talk to my aunt alone," Peter said firmly.

Both women knew who was in control; who was the man of the house. Deep down both of them liked it; they wanted a man who behaved like a man, taking what he wanted but treating them with love and respect; protecting them.

Peter drove Millicent across the fields of corn and down the dusty track to the copse of trees where his father's beat up pickup lay rusting and slowly disintegrating. He pulled away the branches that covered the cabin of the pickup and Millicent shivered when Peter pointed to the mound of dirt beside the rusting wreck.

"This is what happens to a man who can't control his drinking and loses the love of his wife and the respect of his son," Peter said gravely.

"Now that daddy's gone I am the man of the house the farmhouse is my house and no one else's; do you believe me Aunt Millicent?" Peter growled.

Millie nodded.

Peter took her by the shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes.

"There is room on this farm for another, if she is willing to behave appropriately and in the manner necessitated by me understand?"

Millie nodded again.

"I'm no yokel Millie. My mother educated me well, I'm hard working and I'm a good businessman. You can live comfortably here with mother and me. There would need to be some arrangement of course, but nothing that you two sister's couldn't sort out between you," Peter stroked her cheek.

"Or you can leave but you can never tell anyone what you saw here today. I showed it to you so that you know how much I trust you," Peter kissed her softly.

"Come on. Let's get out of here. I'll drop you back at the farmhouse and I'll get back to work," he began to throw the branches back over the mouldering truck.

As they drove past the creek Millie, who had been sitting demurely contemplating, sidled up to Peter and lifted his hand and put it on her leg. She put her hand down into his crotch and whispered in his ear.

"What kind of arrangement where you thinking of," she playfully nipped his earlobe.

Peter pulled over and helped Millie out of the truck and tossed a throw rug on the grass under the shade of a big tree right beside the creek bank.

Millie tried to undress but Peter pulled her down on the blanket and hiked up her skirt.

"No time for shenanigans; I've got work to do. This will have to be quick," he grunted as he nudged her legs apart and opened his flies.

Peter fell on his aunt and she wrapped her arms and legs around his as he poked at her crotch, easing aside her panties and ripping open her nylons.

He thrust himself in and out of his aunt as she hung onto her nephew, enjoying the rough, vigorous fuck. He came quickly and she came with him, kissing him passionately and holding him tight as she quivered with passion.

When they got back to the farmhouse he escorted Millicent to the door and pushed her inside where Meg was standing, arms folded.

"You women need to come sort of arrangement. I'll be home when I've finished work at six and I expect to get what's coming to me as usual," Peter turned on the heels of his cowboy boots and walked out the door, closing it softly behind him, a smile began to grow on his face.

Should it be continued?