tagIncest/TabooMy Nephew

My Nephew


This started awhile ago _ and is on-going. I've always been naughty, but now, in my early thirties, I find myself giving in to my sexual urges, and acting out my fantasies, more frequently ... actually, much more frequently. This is proof.

I'll never claim I didn't know better _ or that I shouldn't have let any of it happen. But it couldn't have happened unless I wanted it to, unless I participated, unless I took the initiative. It would have stayed naughty, maybe, but innocent.

This thing with my nephew actually started fairly innocently. My nephew is young. But not too young. He is a typical teenage boy. He often stays with me on weekends. His father, my brother, is often on the road because of his work. Sometimes, on the weekends, my sister-in-law joins her husband _ and, for years, when that happens, he stays at my house. I live only a few blocks from their home. This way, he isn't alone, but he also isn't far away from his friends.

Until very recently, it never even occurred to me to wonder why he never balked at staying with me. He's certainly old enough to be on his own for a weekend, but he not only has never objected, he has always seemed so eager I never gave it any thought.

I'm divorced and live along. I am bi-sexual. I have a slight preference for women, actually, but I do date men _ so I am NOT unfamiliar with the way they are. In fact, if my ex-husband had been willing to accept the fact that I simply need another woman every once in awhile _ and I told him this before we were married _ then we probably would still be together. To make it easier for him, I even told him I would be willing to share whenever possible. He couldn't handle it.

But that's another story.

My nephew is ALWAYS trying to look down my blouse, up my skirt. The things a boy that age often does. In fact, the very things most men I have dated try to do. I had been aware of it for awhile. I just didn't give it a lot of thought. I probably should have, but I didn't. Bad me!

He is young enough not to be terribly subtle. Pretty typical, I think, for a high school senior about to graduate. But it also is obvious he has been sheltered. He is a young 18, not terribly worldly _ and I would bet money, lots of it, that he still is a virgin.

At first, I was a little shocked, and tried to be very careful around him. Dressing rather demurely, sitting carefully, that kind of thing. I kept reminding myself: You are his aunt. He IS your brother's son.

But he was so predictable it became amusing to me. But I have to admit, at least to you and myself, that it also began turning me on, the way I would catch him looking at me. Not at first, not right away. But the more conscious I became of it, the more I became aware of his sexuality. And as I suddenly became more aware of his sexuality, the more it turned me on.

Somehow, at some point, and I don't really know when or how, I found myself fantasizing about the possibilities. Maybe just daydreaming, initially, but it didn't stop there. I was shocked, maybe even appalled, the first time I found myself fantasizing about him walking in on me while masturbating. I was thinking of something else, and suddenly, in my perverted mind, it was him watching me, he was naked, touching himself, and I came ... God, did I have a climax. The aftershocks seemed not to want to end.

As naughty as I have been, I don't think I was prepared for that reaction. I had never even consciously thought of it going any further. Ever. But suddenly it had happened _ I had crossed a line, and the result was an earth-shaking climax.

The following weekend, from the moment he arrived, I was painfully aware of his every glance. And, for the first time, I found myself teasing, just a little, and paying very close attention to the reaction.

I could have worn jeans, or shorts, as I normally would on Friday night, but, instead, I never changed out of my work clothes: A skirt. A relatively short skirt. I knew it caught his attention right away. And I undid two buttons at the top of my blouse, knowing, because I checked in the mirror, that it would afford a teasing view ... Why? Because I wanted to turn him on. Just like he had turned me on. I thought it would be exciting, fun, and I would go to bed and have a marvelous time later with my Rabbit.

After all, it was just a fantasy. And nothing was going to happen. I knew that, because, after all, I was in control.

Good theory. But almost immediately, he was looking. And I didn't have to work very hard to catch him looking. I knew right away it was turning me on. And while serving dinner, at one point, I leaned across the table, leaning forward, knowing I was giving him a very good look down my blouse.

I didn't even try to be demure. Now, I WANTED him to look. I wanted to see his reaction. And by the time I got around to serving dessert, I could SEE his reaction. Oh, yes. It was an obvious one, when I looked down at his jeans.

I had picked up a couple of movies for after dinner, something fairly common when he was over. I took the couch, knowing he would take the chair opposite me. I flashed a lot of leg, and thigh, during the movie. I know he spent more time watching me then he did watching the movie. Neither of us would have passed a quiz on it. But I was very turned on. And very aware of his efforts to keep me from seeing the bulge in the front of his jeans. I just didn't let him off easy, making him get up in front of me as we said our good nights. He was very embarrassed _ and I pretended not to notice. I took a perverse pleasure thinking he would be going to his room jerking off to thoughts of his auntie _ while his auntie was just a short distance away masturbating to fantasies of him.

I was just so unbelievably horny. I came three times wondering what he was doing in the other room. And, in the morning, I was appalled by my actions. Why? Because I didn't want to be "good" anymore, I wanted to be naughty. I wanted to tease him mercilessly.

I waited until dinner, and changed into a low cut tank top, no bra, and made it a point to lean over _ a lot _ while serving him. His eyes were glued to my breasts. My nipples, as I got more and more turned on, got harder, and were quite noticeable through my top.

He was too young to be subtle at all. And I was too turned on to give a damn.

By the time I served dessert, my panties were soaking wet, and I had seen his hard-on bulging in his jeans _ again. It was bigger than I had expected _ and that only excited me more.

That evening we watched some TV, or I should say, I watched TV. He watched me. I was wearing a skirt again and I was back on the couch. My skirt was even shorter than the night before _ so I was showing A LOT of thigh. He had trouble looking away. And that only turned me on more. When I decided it was time to go to bed, I made it a point of giving him a quick panty flash. You wouldn't have believed his face. I pretended not to notice.

It took three more climaxes to calm me down.

Until Sunday. When I went in to strip the bed. I know cum stains. I've seen more than a few. It was clear he had had a series of mighty explosions after going to bed. I was so turned on, I stripped naked and masturbated right there, on the sheets he had cum on. It REALLY turned me on knowing he left me and probably jerked off thinking about me.

But I will tell you the truth: The experience shocked even me, a little more than I expected, and I decided that I needed to cool it before it got out of hand. I spent the entire week telling myself that. And it lasted until I went into the room he used to put the sheets back on the bed Thursday after work.

That's when I got a huge shock. As I lifted the mattress to put on the fitted sheet. And discovered a pair of my panties under the mattress. Used panties. And someone had cum on them. And I didn't have to guess who.

My panties.

Somehow, at some point, he had gotten into my bedroom, into the master bath, into my hamper, and come out with my panties.

It didn't take long for the shock to give way to something more familiar. I can't even begin to tell you how turned on I was. I don't know when he did it, but I sure wondered what turned him on more, my panties, or the fact that I had worn them, my girl smells, I had no clue, but I was really, really turned on now.

I knew right then the game would continue. Friday night. If anything truly shocked me, it was the absolute knowledge that I didn't want the game to stop. I wanted, needed, to know how far it, or I, would go.

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