One Page - 9. John's Erections

Side by side on the couch they let him catch his breath.

"Lesson two," she said, "Lick your come off of me, then eat me out. I bet you'll be hard again before I orgasm." He got on his knees between her thighs and grinned at the view; his aunt, wanton and happy, splayed before him and dripping his semen. Eating his own batter was a small toll for getting to taste hers. So he began by following the drips and trails across her breasts, teasing his way to her nipples. The cum burned his tongue. He hefted his aunt's heavy melon tits as he licked, pinched the berries between his lips just as she directed, lingering when she said how good it was, moving on when she pushed him downward.

Gloria unsnapped the skirt and pulled it aside. There it was, the hot, slick, shaved vulva that his fingers knew so well. He drew in the funky smell of her and buried his nose in her sex. She laughed and pulled up on his curly black hair. "You think you can lick it like I told you?"

On his knees, a hand on each breast and his cock rising again, he did his best. He worked slowly toward her center, laying long trails up her thighs, finding the creases from her hip bones to her mons, pressing his tongue along each side of her labia, peeling apart the large, plump ones from the little, meaty ones, tasting her bittersweet juices, feeling the clamp of her legs on his head when he hit a good spot, zeroing in on her pearl where he settled in for a long, tender meal of woman.

All the while aunt Gloria sighed and groaned and quivered, holding his mouth to her twat and rising up to meet him. She told him what was good. She pressed him down, pulled him up, let him lick and lick and lick as she rose toward her release. Her body arched until she had her shoulders back on the couch and her feet on the floor, her hips in the air and jammed against his face. He pinched her nipples and pressed her breasts firmly into her chest. She crested, cried out, clamped onto his head and ground on his mouth. It was hard to breathe.

Slowly she melted. "Let's go to the bed now," she panted and took him by the hand upstairs to the bedroom. John hardly noticed the carpet or the curtains or the Ikea furniture. She lay down on top of the comforter and pulled him beside her. He lay on his back, boner thrumming as she kissed him. "You want to use your power over a woman to make her feel safe. She wants to open to you."

Gloria raised a leg over his and pulled him to face her. "Let's do this together," she whispered and pulled his hand down to join hers on his shaft. She wormed her hips around until he felt the heat and the wet on the tip of his cock. Their eyes locked when he eased himself forward into her. She inhaled sharply. He groaned. John saw in her eyes passion and affection, a tender vulnerability that he hadn't seen before. It felt like love.

They rocked together, John curling up into her, Gloria spreading herself. They found a rhythm. She said, "Your mouth got me to my first plateau, darling man. Your cock will get me to my second. Just keep it moving."

She arched her back as they coupled on their sides and he got a nipple in his teeth. They laced fingers and her heel pulled insistently where it pressed against his butt.

"I feel your ass bunching when you thrust...your lips on my breast...your cock so deep and tight...mmmmm," she sighed, picking up the pace slowly, smiling into his eyes. "Let's get you on top now." She lay back and he slipped out of her. He rolled up onto his elbows, holding himself above her rigid, clumsily thrusting and missing his target.

"I want you in me!" She pulled his mouth down for a kiss. With the other hand she grasped his massive cock as he came forward over her. Deftly she aimed him and brought them together. His knob sank into her soft center and he hunched. Gloria clawed at his shoulders, pulling with her heels against his ass and screamed a new peak as he sank deep. He let his body tell him what to do. Pushing her deep into the mattress he began a long, slow pounding. Gloria wrapped her legs around him and they found a longer, deeper rhythm. Sweat slicked them, mouths kissed and bit, muscles flexed and trembled. She rode him, pulling herself up along his plunging cock, hungry for him.

"Yesss, just let your body tell you what it wants," she sighed. "I want you to fill me."

John, beyond speaking, only grunted with each thrust, trusting she knew what he meant. Their bodies were conversing, exchanging information, learning from each other.

He felt it start in his teeth, it seemed like. He wanted to bite her hard all of a sudden and that lunge to sink his teeth in her shoulder was mirrored by a pulse of power down his spine. His testicles buzzed, his hairs all stood up, his toes curled, he dropped his hairy chest down on her soft breasts and pinned her to the bed, a bolt of liquid lightning shot out of him and deep in his aunt's pussy.

She ground on him, shouting out her joy again. And again and again together with his pounding, spurting firehose of a cock. He bucked and she gasped over and over and over. His entire body burned with the explosions. He'd seen a guy paralyzed by a live electric wire. It must feel like this, his body convulsing without his control, thrashing and hard and mindlessly guiding the tip of his cock to meet her deepest, hottest softness with finesse. His body knew how to do that. He was along for the ride.

After the peak they came slowly back into their heads, their eyes again searching the other's, finding gratitude and compassion there, finding peace and trust. Slowly her pussy milked him as his rocking slowed and he softened. The comforter was tangled and wet with their sweat and sex.

"Keep it in me, please, John," she whispered. He lay curled over her small, soft body and she clung to him. He might have slept. After some time he felt her clasping him deep inside and his cock stirred. It swelled again. Gloria smiled widely. "Your erections just keep coming, don't they?"

"It's you, aunt Gloria. It's all you." He began moving again.

"John, you've restored my faith in men." And she moved against him.

********

His memories of that summer were not of the broken leg and his confinement, but of his passage to manhood in his aunt's bed. Eventually she'd moved to Italy and another adventure and he'd tried Princeton, dropped out, found his heart in construction and his talents appreciated by a calendar full of hungry cougars like his aunt. He restored them, too.

So maybe he would change the name of the business. He'd discovered that he really was by nature a tool user. John's Restorations was more about what he could do with his tools, not the tools themselves. He'd go on restoring beautiful houses and beautiful women. John's erections would persist and he'd be remembered for the beautiful work they left behind.