One Rainy Saturday with Aunt Bea

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I have to admit that I am the product of a single parent mom who does quite well by me. She has the help of her sister, Beatrice, and between them I am one pampered c***d if you want to consider late teens in the c***d category. To add to these unique circumstances, both my dad and Aunt Bea’s husband were casualties of the Vietnam conflict. Much to my misfortune I never met either of these men so yours truly, Roger, was raised from birth by these two lovely and wonderful women. Behind two lovely sets of boobs I had a mother and father, and an aunt and an uncle.

For example, my mom has finally started dating again after all these years, and despite the fact that I am a grown man by any standard she feels better if I spend time with Aunt Bea when she plans to be away overnight. This weekend she and her new boyfriend are going to Aspen for a ski outing. Aunt Bea prefers to refer to the event as a two day fuck fest. They are probably both right in their beliefs.

As luck would have it the weather sucked. It was raining very hard eliminating any activity Aunt Bea and I might consider. I had pulled over an easy chair in front of the bay window in the living room, and was staring into the miserable weather and genuinely feeling sorry for myself.

“Poor baby,” the soft sweet voice of my aunt broke the silence, “God must hate you. Why else would he let this happen?”

“That may be true,” I said pensively, “but if it were, then I wouldn’t have you and mom in my life. I think I’m pretty damned lucky if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Why should I mind, you foolish boy. I agree!” We both laughed at the gist of our conversation. And then my Aunt Bea opened a door to conversation that we all three tried to avoid at all cost. “What can I do, Roger,” she said sympathetically, “to make my baby cheer up a little?”

“If I told you honestly what was on my mind, Auntie,” I said with some hesitation, “you would toss me out on my butt in this God-awful weather and lock the door.”

“Oh really, now,” she replied in mock astonishment. “I thought you and I could handle anything that came our way? Come on; spit it out, Mister.”

“I can remember back when I was eleven or twelve years old that you and Mom both stopped letting me take baths with you, and I have since figured out why.”

“And . . .”

“It was because I was beginning to notice my arousal at the sight of naked women. Considering the two beauties in my life, that shouldn’t have been hard to understand at all. My erections were beginning to embarrass both of you. Right?”

“Go on,” Bea said softly.

“I was upset at first, but whatever you or Mom said was the law. I stopped having so many erections because my primary incentive had been removed. I did continue to get hard ons like any developing teenager, and finally Mom showed me the proper way to jack off. I liked that a lot, but she stopped helping once she was sure I had developed a technique of my own. To this very day I think back on those days, and what it might have been had you and Mom not shut me out.”

“We didn’t shut you out, Honey. We were protecting ourselves as much as we were you. Your mom and I have been unattached for quite some time now, baby, and that makes it more difficult to resist any temptation that comes into our lives. Seeing that young tool of yours brought back too many wonderful memories of before the war. It had nothing to do with you.”

“So the two of you love still love me?”

“Oh, God, yes!” She had kneeled at my knees as we talked, and with my last question her eyes grew wider.

“Would you do me a favor?” I asked.

“Anything, Roger,” she gasped, “just name it.”

“For years now I have wondered what your breasts looked like out in the open, so to speak,” I said as I paused to gather the nerve to continue. “Would you show them to me? No one is around so it can be our secret. Please,” I begged.

“Remember, Roger,” Bea said quite soberly, “that I am your aunt and we shouldn’t be doing things like this under any circumstances.” She spoke softly and evenly, but I also noticed that she had begun to toy with the buttons on her blouse. “That’s the aunt side of me speaking, nephew,” she said bringing more cheer back into her voice, “but as a woman I would be lying to both of us if I didn’t admit that I have had my thoughts about you as well. Especially when I notice the bulge that frequently appears in your pants.” She had the top two buttons of her blouse open now, and her cleavage was beginning to appear as was my erection. I could feel my pants leg getting tighter, and I knew she was watching the same thing. Another button gave way. I got harder.

“You know the old saying, don’t you, Roger?”

“Which old saying is that?” I asked. The last thing that was on my mind at this moment was some clever old saying from days of yore.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Her smile was breathtaking, and so was the view as she loosened the last button and her blouse fell open. She was wearing one of those push-up bras. My eyes focused on two lovely mounds of breasts, and my cock began to throb.

I’m sure the startled look on my face at the sight of her magnificent boobs amused her somewhat. She smiled broadly.

“Aren’t you going to show me yours?” She wiggled her titties playfully.

“I’m afraid if I touch it I’ll have an accident. I’ll be humiliated.

“Nonsense,” she huffed. “If you don’t have an orgasm somewhere along the line, I’ll be the one that is humiliated.”

“Your breasts are beautiful, Auntie Bea,” I stammered.

“Thank you, Roger. Now, show me,” she demanded indicating the bulge in my pants.

I fumbled with my zipper, and after a brief pause she took charge. She zipped down my fly, reached in and struggled to set my cock free.

“Wow, nephew,” she cried. “You have indeed grown up, haven’t you?”

“Is it okay?”

“I was remembering the little hard ons I saw when we bathed together. Now, standing before me is a fully armed soldier obviously ready for battle.” Her face was flushed, and she was smiling broadly. “You can touch mine, Roger,” she told me, “because I am definitely going to touch yours.” She reached out and gently wrapped her hand around my shaft. The throbbing increased. I knew I was going to shoot anytime now, but I tried to ignore that fact as I reached over and placed both hands on her lovelies.

“They’re so soft and warm,” I mumbled.

“Have you been with many women, Roger,” she asked.

“Not really,” I muttered, and then I continued. Just girls from school. You’re the first real woman I’ve been this close to, Auntie Bea.”

“I think we need to get something straight, young man,” Bea said very seriously. I caught my breath assuming I had done something wrong. “As of this minute,” she continued, “we need to put nephew and aunt in the closet. “Tomorrow we can get back to normal, but since we’ve gotten this far, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Now that the ground rules were in place, Bea shed her blouse, unhooked her bra, and let it fall to the floor. Her breast were even more magnificent without the uplift feature,

“Wow,” was all I could manage for the moment.

“Like them? Then kiss them,” she said gleefully as she lifted and pushed them in my direction. “I’m already hotter than a firecracker, but I want you to make me cum. It’s been quite a while.”

The shock was wearing off and being replaced by raw passion. I leaned forward and sucked a nipple into my mouth. I squeezed both breasts with my hands, and put my tongue to work on her hardening nipples. She moaned. I groaned. She squeezed my shaft and stroked it a couple of times. My courage was soaring by now, and Bea obviously detected my advanced arousal. She stood in front of me and removed her skirt and panties. She looked good in nothing at all.

“Take off your clothes, Roger. I’m going to show you my side of Heaven.”

I had my clothes off in seconds. Bea eased me back into the chair in front of the bay window, and settled on her knees between my legs.

As she leaned forward to take my throbbing cock into her mouth she said, “You can have that orgasm anytime now, baby.” Her mouth and tongue took me to a new dimension.

I was accustomed to hot, sticky sex in the back seat of a car or on a blanket on the beach, but here I am in front of a bay window in broad daylight with a beautiful full grown woman between my legs trying to suck my balls through my cock. This had to be the heaven Bea was referring to a few minutes ago. I felt a new level of excitement racing through my body, a burning sensation in my abdomen, and convulsions as I spurted gobs of semen into my lover’s mouth. She didn’t jump and squeal; she sucked harder.

Eventually the rhapsody of the totally new experience ebbed, and slowly Bea lifted her head and freed my grateful cock.

“We’re going to do this again, Roger,” she said with bated breath, “just to make sure you’ve got the hang of it.” I noticed the big smile on her face as she lowered her mouth over my awe stricken tool for a second performance.

Normally, I would shoot my load, watch my pecker shrink away, and accept the fact that the party was over. Evidently Bea wasn’t prepared to accept this ritual. She was administering magical tongue and mouth routines to my cock with full intentions of pursuing higher levels of pleasure. It was definitely working. My manhood was rejuvenating nicely. As my presence grew more noticeable in her mouth, her intent measured up to the change.

Bea was massaging my balls with a free hand as she continued the oral application to my cock. I noticed small beads of perspiration forming on her shoulders and the small of her back, but this indication of exhaustion had no effect on her performance. She tirelessly bobbed up and down on my pole, and being human, I responded as you might expect a horny teenager to do.

All the symptoms were returning. I knew that a climax was just over the next hill, and we were racing toward that incline with reckless abandon. I was totally unfamiliar with the blissful rapture in which I was engulfed, and I couldn’t believe that Bea would go to such lengths to affect my sexual satisfaction. Strange, exciting, overwhelming, sensational or whatever, my orgasm number two was here and demanding to be set free. I made a generous contribution to the cause, and Bea accepted it willingly and graciously.

As was to be expected, recovery was not instantaneous so when I did come down to Earth once again, I found Bea sitting before me cross-legged Indian style and smiling like the legendary Cheshire cat that had just eaten the canary. Of course, I have never had my cock referred to as a canary before, but who cares. I have never been so at peace with the world as I am at this moment.

Speaking of canaries, I had a bird’s eye view of Bea’s pussy because of her rather relaxed posture. It was drenched, but there was no denying that Bea was elated.

“That was wonderful, Bea. How am I ever going to return the favor?”

“Easy,” she replied very cheerfully. “You’re going to eat my pussy,” she stated rather adamantly, “and then we are going to try to fuck each other’s brains out.”

“Boy,” I cried, “I’m all for that no matter how long it takes.”

“You better get with it, Buster. I’m not feeding you anything but pussy until you have fulfilled your obligation.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied respectfully while launching a concerted effort to holdback my mounting spirit of jubilee. One Rainy Saturday with Aunt Bea

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