Stuck Tales: Aunty Elle

Stuck Tales: Aunty Elle.

You know, guys, being eighteen - nineteen sucks! I know because, until yesterday, I was eighteen. Now I'm nineteen and nothing changes! Old enough that your parents and other so called 'adults' expect you to act like them, i.e. 'mature' (read: boring!), but your asshole parents won't let you make any damned decisions for yourself. Of course, being the youngest of four doesn't help, especially when your three elder siblings are all girls. Luckily, all of them are married now and living with their husbands.

So, that was my life--University in the morning, I was studying to be a Phys-ed/ math teacher, and being treated like a child at night. I even had to do chores. I mean, how demeaning, right? What was worse was that because my parents made so much money, I wasn't entitled to get any help from the government to study, and my parents refused to give me an allowance.

Then, with doing a double degree, I couldn't have a regular part-time job because there wouldn't be enough time to study. I worked at the local takeaway Fri - Sun nights, six hours a night for fifteen bux an hour, so at least I had some money to spend. But working until ten p.m. every weekend night meant that taking a girlfriend out somewhere wasn't on the cards.

Oh, I do alright with the girls. At high school, I was a jock, in American terms, though we don't use that here in Australia. I played centre for the school's rugby league team and was often featured on the top step during the medal ceremonies at the summer swim meets. Therefore, I had my pick of girls to date.

Maggie Johnson relieved me of my virginity at the appropriate time, and I've banged her and quite a few other girls since that night. The problem is that girls my age, if you're dating them, want to be taken out at least one night during the weekend, and I didn't finish work until ten or later if it was still busy.

So, being the low man on the totem pole meant that I had no say when Mum announced that her sister, Elle, was coming to live with us. Aunty Elle had been in and out of rehab for years. She'd get out and be okay for a time, but then she'd start back on the alcohol, which led to pot and then to harder drugs like cocaine or crack. Mum would eventually hear that she was hooking again, go and find her, and then stick her back in rehab.

Dad had adamantly refused to allow Aunty Elle to live with us before because, as he said, "I like my precious things to stay where they are--in my home. Not pawned for drugs." But, for some reason, he'd agreed for her to stay with us after she got out of rehab this time. I tried to object but was told that it was 'none of your business', and if I didn't like it, I could always apply to the dorm rooms for somewhere to live.

Anyway, despite my objections, one Friday afternoon, I came home from uni to find Aunty Elle ensconced in our spare room, already smoking up a storm. She hadn't even bothered shutting the door or opening a window.

I didn't bother saying anything, even though smoking was banned in our house, because I knew Aunty Elle would just laugh at me and grab her groin or boobs as she always did.

The problem with Aunty Elle doing that was that, despite being skinny from not eating and taking drugs, she was as hot as fuck! Before she fell into a deepening spiral of alcoholism and drug abuse, Aunty Elle was a funny, witty companion to hang out with. My mom is nearing fifty, but Aunty Elle is barely thirty-five, being one of those 'tail-end-Charlie' babies you hear about. My grandma, Mom's mother, was nearly Mom's age now when she had her. I shook myself as the image of my parents having sex and making a baby played in my mind.

Aunty Elle barely makes 152 cm (5-ft.), but she has massive D-cup breasts that sit surprisingly high on her skinny frame. Then she has a tiny waist that flares to generous hips. Her bottom, like her boobs, is still amazingly firm. Mum says it's from all the 'street-walking' she did.

Look, I'm trying to be sympathetic towards my aunt. I know she had an abusive husband who took delight in sharing her with his friends and beating her if she didn't do so willingly, enthusiastically, even. Still, I just don't understand how you go from being abused to self-abuse. I hope one of the courses in my degree covers it. It seems like it should.

So, anyway. Things travelled along reasonably well for a few weeks, and I kind of got used to Aunty Elle being there. Other than her incessant smoking in the house, ignoring Dad and Mum as she did, she wasn't really a problem. That was true all the way until, unthinkingly, after my afternoon run, I walked past her room to the shower, wearing only a towel.

Aunty Elle gasped as I passed her door and jumped off her bed to stare at me. "Drop the towel, sexy!" She called, and embarrassed, I rushed to the bathroom and locked the door.

From that time on, it seemed every time I walked past Aunty Elle's room, the door would be open, and she'd be lying on her bed with her knees pulled up. Sometimes, her pussy would be exposed, and other times, she'd be playing with herself. Of course, I'm a teenager, so having an attractive, nearly naked woman who isn't your mother showing me her 'bits' had me in a constant state of arousal. It didn't help that Aunty Elle resembled that chick from Big Bang Theory. Well, at least in her body shape and dimensions. Aunty Elle has a pretty face, huge tits, a narrow waist, generous hips, and long (for her height), shapely legs with delicate ankles and feet.

After seeing Aunty Elle's naked pussy and her playing with herself, my entire fap fantasies centred on her. I mean, Jaysus! If it were possible to pull your own dick off, I'd have had to have mine reattached many times in the weeks after she began flashing me.

Aunty Elle confined her teasing to when we were home alone for the next few weeks, but when I didn't respond, she began ramping it up. She started sitting beside me at the dinner table, and when she wanted something, she'd turn so her tits rubbed on my arm to ask me to reach it for her. Of course, that meant that I spent all of our meal having to hide my erection. But as if that wasn't bad enough, Aunty Elle would stand out of sight of Mum and Dad and cup her tits as if offering them to me. Either that, or she'd turn and shake her barely covered ass at me.

I was in a constant state of unrequited desire, masturbating every chance and anywhere I could. I was so horny that I even had to duck out to the loos during my lectures to rub one out lest my throbbing cock spunked into my trousers. What was worse was that none of my usual go-to girls when I needed some relief, wanted to go out on weeknights or wait until eleven o'clock on a weekend night before I picked them up.

And, lawd, as if all of that wasn't enough, Aunty Elle started brushing up against me whenever I was in the kitchen making coffee or getting something to eat. I'd be at the sink filling the kettle, and Aunty Elle would ease past as if there wasn't much room, her large tits rubbing across my back as she did. Then, when at least one of my parents was in view, she began hugging me at every opportunity. Of course, with a parent watching, I couldn't rudely shove her away and storm off.

Aunty Elle especially began hugging me from behind when my parents were on the other side of the island bench from us. Those times, Aunty Elle would let her hands wander over my bum or surreptitiously, she'd run her hands over my aching knob.

Next, Aunt Elle started wearing low-cut or deep Vee tops and dresses. As if to emphasise her massive cleavage, Aunty Elle would wear necklaces that sat perfectly between her enormous norks, drawing my attention to the deep valley between them. The necklaces always had a double loop--a tight one around her slim neck and then the deeper one nestled between her exaggerated fun bags. It got so bad that all I did was hide in my room and study. I guess it had some benefits because my GPA jumped two points with all the extra study I was doing.

Then came the fateful weekend. Mum, who had just gotten a job promotion, needed to attend a branch manager symposium. It was in Sydney, and Dad and she would be gone for the week. Of course, that meant I'd be alone with Aunt Elle for that week. Thoughts of being mercilessly sexually teased for a week and having rubbed my poor cock off by the time Mum and Dad returned ran through my mind as I tried to think of an excuse to stay elsewhere. However, other than Dad's brother, my Uncle Kurt, another abusive wanker, there was no one I could conceivably stay with for the week.

Resigned to my fate, I agreed to drive my parents to the airport on Friday afternoon and pick them up on the morning of the following Friday.

All went well for the first two nights because, with my weekend job, I didn't get home until 11:00 p.m. both nights. But when I woke up Sunday morning, Aunt Elle started. I'd dressed in my running shorts and shoes with a light singlet on, ready for my morning run. It was winter, so swimming was out of the question, and running was good for my aerobic capacity anyway, so now that I wasn't playing rugby, running was my winter exercise. I was in the kitchen, filling up on water before beginning my run.

"There you are!" Aunt Elle exclaimed, walking around the island bench in my direction. I gulped and gaped, my thick cock immediately straining against my shorts. Aunt Elle was completely starkers, her enormous tits bouncing delectably as she stalked towards me. Plus, her tightly trimmed cunt hairs seemed wet and silky in the early morning light.

"Oh, shit," I muttered, bolting for the bathroom before I lost my load into my nylon silk running shorts. I managed to get my shorts down and I sat on the commode before I ejaculated into it, but it was a close run thing. Of course, Aunt Elle's mocking laugh from outside the door didn't help. I waited until I was sure she was gone before I left the loo and went for my run.

When I returned, Aunty Elle was nowhere to be seen. Happy with her absence, I grabbed my towel and went to the bathroom to shower. I'd just stripped when I heard a muffled shout from the laundry. I listened intently, trying to figure out what I'd heard, but the sounds were so distant that I wasn't sure what they were. Shrugging, I wrapped the towel around my slender hips and followed the sounds.

I opened the laundry door and saw Aunty Elle on her hands and knees with her head in the dryer. "What on earth are you doing?" I asked.

"What the fuck do you think I'm doing?" She snarled in response.

Sick of her constant taunting and teasing, I snapped back, "Trying to commit suicide, I suppose. But your drug fucked brain hasn't figured out that's a clothes dryer and not a gas oven!"

"Fuck you!" Aunty Elle yelled back.

"No, no," I chuckled. "Stuck like you are, it's fuck you! Now, if you want my help, tell me what the fuck you're doing."

"I put my only pyjamas in to dry after I'd washed them, and when I got them out, I noticed they were missing a button."

"So you climbed halfway into the dryer to find a button?" I asked and then sarcastically added, "Yeah, that makes sense. So, why are you still in there?"

"Because my fucking necklace is stuck!" Aunty Elle yelled.

"Well, take it off then," I suggested.

"Do you think I wouldn't have already done that if I could find the fucking catch?" Aunty Elle bellowed.

For the first time since I'd entered the laundry, I metaphorically stepped back and examined what was before me. My bitchy, teasing aunt was stuck with her head in the dryer, and either she was too stupid to figure out how to undo the catch or unwilling to pull back hard enough to break the necklace chain and free herself. Either way, she was at my mercy.

I checked out her taut, shapely ass encased in a tiny tight pair of white shorty-shorts. The shorts clung so tightly to her toned ass and perineum that I could identify her camel toe and bulging fuck button through them. Above her shorts, Aunty Elle had on a midi top that barely covered her braless breasts. The top had ridden up, and Aunty Elle's tit treats tantalising showed above her top's hem.

Trying to ignore the sudden fantasy I had of kneeling behind her and grabbing those swaying nork nubs, I knelt beside her and tried to find her necklace's catch. I couldn't see it anywhere, and of course, I couldn't twist the necklace around to find it.

"Stop staring at my tits and help me get unstuck," Aunty Elle snarled from within the dryer.

I'd had enough, so I moved so I could reach around her skinny back and grab both of her breasts. Pinching her thick nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, I dismissively said, "These old, saggy things? Maybe some desperate sucker might pay you fifty bucks for a tit job, but I'm not one of them."

"I swear, Johnny Murray, when I get out of here, I'm whipping your ass with your daddy's belt!" Aunty Elle screamed as she shook her body, trying to dislodge my hands.

"Yeah?" I derisively sneered as I kneaded Aunty Elle's giant tit melons. "You and whose fucking army? Besides, my name is John, I fucking hate Johnny."

"Oh, little Johnny Murray," Aunty Elle needled. "You're a real man now? You're still a child and couldn't handle a real woman like me!"

"Fuck you, Aunty Elle!" I yelled, letting go of her overripe teetahs and smacking her taut ass as hard as I could.

"Is that it?" Aunt Elle sneered. "The best you've got, huh? Meh, you hit like a girl!"

Enraged, I reached around and undid Aunty Elle's shorts and ripped them down, exposing her hairy cunt and rosebud. Whack, whack, whack, I hit her tight ass buns with my palm and the back of my hand. Aunt Elle giggled and waved her ass about sexily. "Is that still all you can do?" She disdainfully asked. "If you're wanting to make my cunt wet, you'll have to hit harder than that!"

I was furious and had even decided to see if I could find one of Dad's belts to take to her sexily rounded ass, but then I got a whiff of the distinctive smell of a woman's arousal. I disbelievingly glanced at my Aunty's cunt and saw that her vulva was literally seeping arousal fluids. The slimy, clear liquid oozed from her fluttering pussy, down her spread-open labia and onto her flushed red, engorged clit.

My throbbing cock and my aching balls, neither of which had stopped doing that despite my rage, instantly reminded me how long it had been since I'd had anything but hand relief.

Aunty Elle, who must have intuited my overt sexual reaction to her exposed nether regions, shook her shapely rear before she challenged, "So, little Johnny Murray, what's a 'real man' going to do about his cheeky, disrespectful aunt?"

Suddenly, I knew why Aunty Elle had acted like she had. She wanted me to discipline and then fuck her. Even though her ex-husband was abusive and went too far, Aunty Elle liked being disciplined. What's more, is that Mum has completely misunderstood why her sister continually fell off the wagon and returned to her hooking and drug-taking ways. Aunty Elle was rebelling against being mothered. She didn't need mothering. Instead, she required strict discipline to control her because she lacked self-control. I now knew that, and I was certainly going to discipline her today!

Jumping to my feet, I ran to my room and got my leather belt. Racing back, I knelt behind Aunty Elle's shapely ass and snapped the belt, letting her know what I held in my hands. Sucking in a deep breath and hoping I was right, I firmly stated, "Aunty Elle, I find your behaviour unacceptable. Your slutty, whorish ways are an embarrassment to me and my family, and they will stop immediately. To remind you of the consequences of further misbehaviour, I will use my belt on your ass five times. You will count and thank me for each strike."

To my shock and excitement, Aunty Elle submissively said, "Yes, Sir. This girl is sorry that she has caused you to discipline her."

Excited to the point of having adrenalin shivers, I nervously but firmly brought my belt down across her seductively curved ass. My strike raised a beautiful, bright red welt across both of Aunt Elle's ass cheeks. She shuddered before intoning, "One, thank you, Sir."

Relieved, I struck my aunt four more times in quick succession. After each strike, Aunty Elle moaned and shook before dutifully intoning the strike's number and "Thank you, Sir."

After I'd completed her punishment, I realised that my aunt was close to an orgasm. Plus, disciplining my mother's sister had me hotter than the furnaces in Hell, so throwing caution to the wind, I said, "You will thank me for punishing you by offering your cunt or ass to use for my reward."

"This slut is willing to take your cock in either or both of her holes, Sir. Please, may I ask you to take her roughly because her needs are raging like an inferno?"

Jaysus! Does it get any better? Imagine being allowed to fuck Bernadette Rostenkowski in either of her fuck holes. What male in their right mind would turn that down?"

To tease my aunty, I rubbed my throbbing cock along Aunty Elle's soaking slit, across her fuck button, and then up and down her ass' cleft. "Hmm," I pretended to wonder. "Ass or cunt first? Hmm, ass or cunt, hmm."

Then, pulling my foreskin back off my glans, I lined my rampant cock up with my aunt's cunt and rammed it into her. Of course, given how horny I'd been since Aunty Elle began teasing me, I lasted about three strokes before my first orgasm claimed me, and I filled her surprisingly tight cunt with cum. But, for the same reason, my dick hardly wilted at all, and I could ignore my climax and continue fucking her as hard as I could.

I dug my fingers into Aunty Elle's firm ass and ripped her back as I smashed my hips forward. Before long, Aunty Elle screamed, "I'm cumming!" and spurt her cunt juices over my tight balls.

I've fucked several women, but my Aunt Elle was the first squirter I've encountered. Feeling her cunt drenching my ball sack with her violently expelled fluids tipped me into another orgasm. But, hey, I'm nineteen, right? My todger didn't bend at all as I continued fucking my slut aunt.

Aunty Elle bathed my balls again as another orgasm swept over her. By now, I had my need under control, so I slowly pulled out of Aunt Elle's sopping cunt and shoved two fingers into her instead. Then, satisfied my fingers were wet, I transferred that wetness to her ass ring. When her starfish felt slippery enough, I shoved my thumb into her butt. Aunty Elle accepted that okay, so I swapped my thumb for two fingers.

My cock isn't all that long, but when it's swollen with my need, it's thicker than others I've seen in the porn I've watched. Therefore, I was worried if my aunt could comfortably take it in her ass. To ensure that I didn't hurt her, I forced my fingers apart, widening Aunty Elle's gape.

When I was sure that Aunty's sphincter had spread wide enough to accept my throbbing cock, I shoved it into her rudely and fucked her cunt as hard as I could until she gushed her cum over my balls. I had myself under control, so without pausing, I pulled out of Aunty Elle's cunt and rammed it into her tight ass. Aunt Elle screamed as my cock parted her dark fuck hole, but she was soon pushing back at my invading cock.

My aunt creamed over my balls several times before she pleaded, "Master, please. I cannot go again. Fill your slut's ass and let her rest."

Happy to oblige, I released all of my restraints and let my desires pick me up and carry me away. Then, roaring like a male lion taking his mate, I spat my cum into my aunt's tightly gripping colon. I wasn't satisfied, so I pulled out of her and used a cloth from the washing machine to clean my still throbbing cock. Slapping Aunty Elle's taut ass, I jammed my dick into her dripping cunt, fell forward onto her back, grabbed her bouncing teetahs, squeezed them as viciously as I could, and fucked her as hard as possible. Despite her mouthed complaints, Aunt Elle climaxed three more times on my thrusting todger before I filled her sopping cunt with my seed.