Copyright (c) 1997   BillyG.   ALL Rights Reserved.

            This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit
            without the written permission of the author.  This story
            may be freely distributed with this notice attached.



                         AUNT PEG'S VISIT   

                                  by BillyG (hayden@mindless.com)


                  Looking at my mother and her younger sister, it was
            hard to imagine that they were separated in age by ten
            years.  My aunt, recently divorced from her very
            successful and work-addicted attorney husband, was an
            exceptionally youthful-appearing 34-years-old woman.  My
            mother, soon to be 44, had the same tawny hair and blue
            eyes, the same slim feminine figure, toned by tennis and
            aerobics.  The family resemblance was striking.  That they
            were sisters was not questioned, but that they were
            ten-years apart was remarkable.

                  We'd picked up Aunt Peg at the United Terminal at
            SFO this morning. While my aunt and my mother were
            emotionally close, they'd not had the chance to spend much
            time together in recent years, each pursuing separate
            careers on opposite sides of the country.  In some
            abstract way, mostly from snapshots, I knew Aunt Peg as a
            good-looking woman but I wasn't prepared for the vivacious
            lady who walked with us to the Baggage Claim area. After
            the crushing greeting Mom and Aunt Peg gave each other in
            the Arrivals Area, she'd turned to me and, grabbing both
            my hands, held them out and looked me up and down frankly
            for a moment before saying, "Billy! God, you're a grown-up
            man!"

                  I heard my mother comment, almost as an aside, "They
            rarely ever grow *smaller*."

                  Draping one arm over my shoulder and sliding the
            other under my arm, she gave me a full-body hug...a long
            one.  I was acutely aware of her body.  I could feel her
            breasts against my chest and her pelvis against mine. I
            looked over her shoulder and saw my mother watching us
            with a broad, approving smile on her face.  If Mom only
            knew!  She'd probably not be so approving if she could
            read my mind.  My thoughts were anything but innocent.
            Quite the contrary, my thoughts were mostly lewd and
            lascivious. Looking into my mom's eyes -  as I felt the
            slim body of her younger sister, a near-carbon copy  -  I
            was remembering that I had been secretly turned on by my
            mother for several years and this was the closest I'd come
            to feeling her body.

                  Embarrassed at the sudden lurch in my groin at
            feeling my aunt's body, I pulled back.  Aunt Peg held to
            me a moment longer and almost stumbled forward when I
            stepped away.  I could feel the heat in my face and hoped
            that neither of them would notice my blush or my
            tumescence. Geez...this was my deep, dark secret and my
            body was betraying me.

                  Mom and Aunt Peg were beaming at each other and
            appeared not to notice my discomfort.  Yet, I knew my mom.
            She missed little, but in her kindness and sensitivity,
            often chose to ignore it for the moment. Later, however,
            she'd let me know that she'd noted whatever it was I was
            wishing she hadn't noticed.  She always shared with me her
            thoughts and insights, both of herself and me, and always
            in a gentle, loving manner and never with moral judgment.
            She was a particularly accepting woman who loved me
            without qualification.  Still, I was capable of being
            embarrassed at my own thoughts.  They'd turned to a strong
            sexual interest in Mom in the past few years, ever since I
            was fifteen or so. And now, with the added closeness of
            these weeks of vacation before my last year of college, I
            was even more aware of her.

                  In the five or six years since their divorce, I'd
            spent time with both my parents without need to choose
            between them.  Because my dad traveled so much, there was
            never any debate where I'd stay finishing high school or,
            more recently, college.  Mom's house was the natural
            choice.  We became good friends...even buddies.  Our
            relationship changed.  It matured.  She had gradually
            shared much of the emotional feelings about my dad.  It
            was clear that she still loved him on some levels, but had
            come to accept their diverging paths.  She dated
            infrequently...obviously, her choice.

                  I was aware that Mom accepted my sexuality as well
            as her own in a forthright manner that I didn't think my
            buddies had experienced with their mothers.  For instance,
            when I first started having wet-dreams, I was mortified
            that she'd find out, but it was inevitable.  She didn't
            ignore the soiled sheets and pretend nothing was going on.
            Rather, she found ways to let me know that she knew and
            that it was normal.  I can't recall how she did it, but in
            oblique ways she let me know that it was a desirable
            masculine trait. Once, holding up a cum-stained sheet, she
            smiled at me and said, "Aren't you lucky?"  I didn't
            really know what she meant, but I got the message that it
            was okay to have sexy dreams. And another time, picking up
            the Jockeys that I'd forgotten, she fingered the stiff
            crotch and observed, "I understand, Billy.  I used to have
            the same problem."  That gave me a jolt!  What problem had
            she had?

                  I'd been aware of her sexy body since I was a young
            teenager.  The years we'd spent alone together had allowed
            a growing intimacy.  My interest and her increasing
            casualness provided many opportunities for me to "check
            her out." While I'd never seen her completely naked, I had
            seen almost all of her body at one time or another.  It
            never ceased to thrill me, but I could never talk about it
            with my friends, and I'd die of shame if I thought she
            knew. Despite her openness and nonjudgmental stance, I
            remained guilty about my licentious desires.  I hadn't,
            and couldn't, talk about my thoughts with Mom.  But when
            Aunt Peg arrived, several years of suppressed imagery came
            boiling to my conscious.  I was simultaneously thrilled at
            the vague possibilities and horrified at my "dirty mind."

                  "Aunt Peg..." I started to say at the same time my
            mom said, "Peg..."  We both stopped, waited and then
            laughed.  I nodded to my mom to go ahead, but Aunt Peg
            spoke first:

                  "Billy...may I call you Billy?...I'd be much more
            comfortable if you called me Peg or even Peggy.  Right now
            I don't want to be an aunt...I don't want to be all grown
            up. I just want to hang out with you guys and let you take
            care of me.  Okay?"

                  "Sure, Aunt P...uh...Peggy," I replied as Mom took
            her arm and added, "My sweet sister, Peggy...we'd be
            delighted to take care of you. You've no idea how Billy
            and I have been looking forward to your staying with us.
            Our house is bigger than we need and with Billy home for
            the summer and me at work each day, you can keep each
            other company. Can't she, Billy?"

                  Not waiting for a reply, Peg grabbed my arm and off
            we walked, three abreast, to the Baggage Claim.  "Abreast"
            is an apt description. Hugging my right arm against her, I
            was keenly aware of the swell of Peg's breast against me.
            Her summer dress outlined her breasts and nipples, plainly
            visible as they moved to her stride.  As she turned her
            head to talk to Mom, I dropped my glance into the loose
            top of her dress and saw flashes of the upper swell of her
            right breast and the lacy, scanty cup of her bra.  The
            strap must have inserted on the side of the cup, for I
            could see a flash of areola when she burst into laughter
            at some comment of Mom's.

                  "Well...do you *want* to, Billy?"  Peg's voice
            brought me back to the moment and I looked up to see both
            of them looking expectantly at me. Peg and Mom both smiled
            at my discomfort, for my staring down the front of Peg's
            dress had been blatant. I was caught, red faced.  This was
            going to be a long summer.

                  "I said," Peg continued, "would you like to baby sit
            me this afternoon? Mary  - that was my mother's name, Mary
            - Mary says the hot tub's been fixed and I'd just like to
            kick back.  But I don't want to be alone.  Will you stay
            with me my first day?"

                  I'd already broken a tennis date with a friend when
            I had heard we were going to pick up Aunt Peg.  "You bet,"
            I replied, "I'd been expecting that we'd visit this
            afternoon and..." looking up at the sunny California sky,
            "with weather like this, the sun deck calls out to us!"

                  "That's my son," Mom said.  "You can count on his
            enthusiasm when it comes to soaking up UV."

                  Looking across Peg at Mom, I was again struck by the
            resemblance of these two women.  They both looked younger
            than their ages and so good looking my chest swelled with
            pride.  I imagined every guy in the place was envious of
            me.

                  After we'd loaded Peg's numerous bags in the car,
            both in the trunk and the front seat, I asked her, "What
            do you carry for a weekend... a single steamer trunk?"

                  "Quit whining, big boy!  I thought I was invited out
            for the whole summer?  Bikinis take up a lot of room!"

                  "I can sure tell that you and Mom are sisters!
            Remind me not to travel with both of you at once, won't
            you?"

                  The ride back from SFO, down I-280, was fast and
            pleasant. Glancing over my right shoulder from time to
            time, I watched Mom and Peg in animated conversation that
            was punctuated with frequent laughs and squealing
            outbursts. Catching my eye in the rear-view mirror, Peg
            smiled and gave me a broad wink when Mom said, "I hope you
            two don't argue the way we used to."

                  "C'mon, Mary...you just remember me as a little kid.
            I'm *much* easier than I used to be," Peg protested.

                  I thought I heard Mom murmur something like, "If
            you're any *easier*, Billy's in for it."

                  "What's that?" I asked.

                  "Oh, nothin', you nosey kid," Mom spoke up.

                  "Your Mom's referring to my...uh, several
            relationships since the divorce," and turning to my
            mother, she said, "Isn't that right?"

                  Mom appeared flustered for a moment, a rare
            phenomenon and then apologized in a rush, "Oh, Peg!  I'm
            sorry.  I didn't mean...I mean, that was cruel of me and
            I'm truly sorry."  Then to me, "Billy, I'm ashamed of
            myself.  Your aunt's a grown woman...not my kid sister
            anymore...and she has a right to live her life any way she
            chooses. Whatever it sounded like, I didn't mean it that
            way.  I love her and whatever she does is okay with me."

                  That last, I think, was directed more toward Peg
            than me, but I chimed in anyway: "I'm really glad you're
            so young.  It'll be like having a big sister."

                  What "relationships" I wondered.

                  The moment of tension had passed and the last leg of
            the 45-minute trip from the airport was made in a relaxed
            silence.  As we drove up the driveway to our home in the
            hills behind Stanford University, I spoke for the first
            time in the last little while: "You'll really like our
            home, Peg. I know you've seen pictures, but they can't
            capture the beauty and peace of the place...huh, Mom?"

                  Before she could answer, we entered the circular
            drive in front of our long, ranch-style redwood house
            framed by a couple of huge redwood trees. Tami, the
            half-lab, adolescent hound came bounding out to greet us.
            "The biggest danger of Tami is that she'll slobber you to
            death," I cautioned as we all piled out.

                  Peg, screening her eyes, looked at the surrounding
            hills.  While we're located on less than ten acres, the
            adjacent open-space lands to the south gave the illusion
            that our place went on forever.  "Nice digs," she
            observed.

                  Mom gave Peg a hug and a peck on the cheek and
            explained again, "I'm sorry to hug and run, but I've got a
            hot deal cookin' and I need to be at the office,
            especially today and probably tomorrow.  Forgive me, won't
            you? Billy, you take care of your new 'sister', hear?"

                  We both waved her off and then I turned to Peg and
            said, "Well, it's just you and me, kid!"

                  "All right!  Let's get the luggage in and where's
            that hot tub?"

                  We both made several trips and piled Peg's bags in
            one of the guest rooms closest to our rooms.  Mom has the
            big master bed room and I have a smaller room, down the
            hall, separated from her's by a walk-in closet and, next
            to that, the master bath.  Actually, I shared the master
            bath with Mom, even though there was a second bath on this
            floor and a third upstairs in the guest wing of the house.

                  "You can use any of the bathrooms, Peg.  Just make
            yourself at home."

                  Looking right, then left, with a quizzical
            expression, Peg said, "Just point me, Billy!  I've gotta
            take a leak."

                  How blunt, I thought.  Nothing shy about this girl.
            My mother might have asked to use the restroom, but I'd
            never heard a woman profess a desire to 'take a leak'.
            There was something honest, unpretentious, earthy and even
            sexy about Peg wanting to take a leak. Raising both hands
            and pointing in opposite directions, I said, "Your
            choice."

                  "Be right with you," she said as she ran off to the
            master bath. Then louder, "Tell me again.  How long have
            you and your mom been in this house?"

                  "More than ten years," I shouted, expecting to hear
            the bathroom door slam.

                  Over the sound of her peeing, she said, "Would you
            give me a tour of the place?   In a minute that is," she
            added, laughing.

                  In my mind's eye, I could see her next door, just on
            the other side of that wall.  She flushed and then washed
            her hands, adding, "Let me change first, okay?  I showered
            this morning, but it seems like yesterday."

                  She rounded the corner and walked into my bedroom
            where I'd been looking, unseeing, out the window,
            listening to the bathroom sounds she had made.  Bending,
            she looked between the blinds into the sunny, south-facing
            canyon and said, "Golly, every direction has a nice view!"

                  Again, I was aware of the touch of her breast on the
            back of my arm and glancing at her, my heart stopped.
            Bent slightly at the waist, her dress had fallen away and
            I had an unobstructed view of her bra-clad breasts.  Zap!
            My mind disengaged and for the second time, Peg caught me
            looking down her dress.

                  Laying a hand on my arm she said, "I'm pleased that
            you like me, Billy!"

                  "I'm sorry," I said. "That was impolite of me."

                  "Billy, Billy, Billy!  I may be your aunt, but I
            feel more like your big sister, and we're going to be
            living together for months, right?"

                  I nodded, dumbly and she went on, "Well, you're
            probably going to see more than this, so let's just agree
            not to get embarrassed with each other. Okay?"

                  "Gee, Peg..." I faltered and then didn't know what
            to say.

                  "Can we be frank with each other?   She asked,
            turning to look at me.

                  Motioning her to the seat by the window, I sat on
            the end of the bed and said, "Sounds serious."

                  Throwing her head back and shaking her tawny hair,
            exactly like Mom does when she's dismissing the importance
            of something, Peg replied, laughing, "Well, only a little
            serious, guy.  Actually, it's more about me. When I came
            out here I knew I'd talk with you about it...just came up
            sooner than I planned is all."

                  I hated "serious" conversations.  I always felt as
            if the other shoe was going to drop.  One of the scariest
            things is when someone says, "I want to talk with you
            later."  More often, it's nothing of consequence, or they
            want to thank me for something, or ask some trivial
            question...but my mind makes it into a big deal.  With
            more calm than I felt, I replied, "Shoot."

                  Peg slipped off her shoes and pulled one foot under
            her other knee, then leaned back in the chair, looking at
            me. She started, "Mary tells me that you're a very mature,
            levelheaded guy and that she trusts you with everything.
            That right?"

                  I detected no direction to this conversation, but it
            seemed safe to reply, "I think I'm level headed.  How
            mature I am is arguable.  Whether Mom trusts me with
            *everything*...why, I don't know."

                  She leaned forward and wrapped her hands around her
            bent knee, balanced for a moment, and then slowly allowed
            herself to rock back in the chair, still holding her knee;
            this pulled her leg up and suddenly I could see high up on
            one thigh.  The late-afternoon son, which had me in
            shadow, illuminated her legs and lower body.  Shit!  How
            could I listen to her and not stare under her dress?

                  "No matter.  I *do* know my sister and I trust her
            judgment.  She told me I could trust you, so I do.
            That's it.  Okay?"

                  "Okay with me, but what's that got to do with
            anything? I'm not certain where this is headed."

                  Peg hit her thigh with her fist and said, "Rats!
            I'm beating around the bush and making this into something
            it isn't...in any event, it's no big deal. I'll get on
            with it."

                  Pulling her leg up again and rocking back allowed
            her summer dress, already short, to fall back into her
            lap, showing off even more of her thighs. Another inch or
            two, I thought, and I'd see her panties.

                  "Did you know that our parents  - your grandparents
            - were occasional nudists?"

                  "Yeah.  Mom mentioned to me that when she was a kid
            she got to go to some camp with them but I thought they
            didn't do it very much later on."

                  "Yes, that's right...but when I asked  - years later
            - if I could try it out, they said, 'Sure, go ahead.  We
            think you'll like it.' And I did," she added in a rush.

                  "Did?  Try the camp, you mean?"

                  "No.   I didn't go to the camp, but I did start
            sunbathing in the nude in our backyard by the pool.  It
            was a very private place."

                  Still not getting it, I said, "So?"

                  "So, I never stopped.  I still like to sunbathe in
            the nude.  In fact, I like to spend a lot of my time
            around the house with no clothes. Mary knows about
            it...she always has...and when I asked her about
            you...whether it would upset you...that's when she told me
            you were mature.  Are you?"

                  Cripes no, I thought to myself.  "Uh, yeah...I'm
            okay with it . . . with anything...but," and here I
            trailed off, leaving unsaid the vision I had of myself,
            crouched over, hiding a boner that I knew would jump out
            if I saw any naked girls...particularly her.

                  "Billy, what's the 'but' you left hanging out there?
            But what?"

                  She unhooked her legs and then re-hooked them the
            other way, momentarily lifting and parting her
            legs...giving me a clear but brief flash of bikini
            panties.  Printed on my visual cortex was the flower print
            of the panties as they disappeared under her butt.

                  Using her ploy, I countered, "Can I be frank with
            *you*?"  I wasn't at all sure what I'd be frank about, but
            it served to turn off the heat for a moment. Or so I
            thought.

                  With an impish grin, she challenged me:  "It's about
            sex, isn't it? That's okay.  I'm cool with it.  You can
            talk with me," she answered in four separate bursts and
            then smiled at me as if to say, "Gotcha!"

                  "No!  I mean, yes...well...kinda.  I mean, I wanna
            be open, but I've never talked about this stuff before."
            I looked at her for a clue. She just nodded and smiled
            again.

                  "You see, I don't mind if you...ah...sunbathe
            without any clothes...but I'm afraid that you...uh...you'd
            be upset with me...if..." I stalled again.

                  "You're afraid I'd be upset if you got an erection,
            huh?  Is that it?"

                  "Well, sure...it'd happen, I know...and then I'd
            have to...well, you know."

                  "I hope it would happen!  I'd be upset if you didn't
            respond to me, Billy." Then, tilting her head, she paused
            and then softly asked, "And then you'd have to what?  Jack
            off?"

                  I could believe she said that!  How'd she know?  It
            may have been my red face, or perhaps the furtive look in
            my eyes, looking for a way out...I don't know, but thank
            goodness, she didn't leave me hanging. Reaching out, as if
            to touch me sympathetically, she said, "Don't worry about
            it.  All guys think that's what's going to happen, but
            it'll go away, I promise."

                  Still embarrassed, I retorted, "Yeah.  A lot you
            know!"

                  "Billy, it's okay with me.  Really.  It's just okay
            if it does or if it doesn't. I understand."

                  What was going on here?  I couldn't believe this
            line of conversation. Here I was, talking about my woodie
            with my aunt, my mother's look-alike, as if were the most
            natural thing in the world. And all the time I'm
            scrunching down, further and further...both to hide my
            boner as well as to try to see under her dress.  My mouth
            was dry and my heart was pounding in my throat and I was
            never so horny in my life. And she was telling me it was
            okay.  Hah!

                  Peg suddenly dropped her foot to the floor and,
            sitting up, jammed her skirt between her legs.  "Anyway,
            it's important for me that you know who I am and that I am
            honest with you.  We're both human. Moreover, we're both
            adults and we know how to act properly, don't we?"

                  Suddenly I could see the humor in it and I replied,
            "My head knows how to be a proper adult, but my body
            doesn't always listen.  But if you're okay with that, then
            I'll try to be too."

                  With a tone of finality she said, "Good!  I'm going
            to put a few things away and then you promised me a sunny
            California afternoon on the deck if I remember."

                  "You change and I'll uncover the hot tub.  It's
            already hot, so I'll turn on the Jacuzzi jets."

                  Having something to do helped calm me a little.  By
            the time I'd set up the chairs and uncovered the hot tub,
            Peg stepped out on the deck wearing a shortie terry-cloth
            robe. Her bare thighs flashed as she walked toward me. She
            smiled and with erotic slowness, began to loosen her belt.
            As the belt dropped, she held the front of the robe
            together for a moment before turning away.  She stepped
            into the tub and, in the same motion, dropped the robe to
            the deck.  For a brief two seconds, I saw her bare back,
            the narrow waist and a surprising flare of her hips for
            such a slim girl.  More as an after image, I saw the
            cheeks of her ass as she slipped into the bubbling water.

                  Submerged to her neck, she turned and appraised me.
            Unsmiling, she looked me up and down.  I felt good about
            my chest and shoulders; I'd received those parts of me as
            my father's genetic gift.  But I felt my legs were too
            skinny...another genetic inheritance.  Still, all those
            considerations faded at the thought of taking my clothes
            off right in front of Peg.  You see, what was really
            bothering me was my dick . . . or how I felt about my
            dick.  I thought it was either too small  - when it was
            soft  -  or shamefully too-erect when hard.  I just
            couldn't win.

                  Sweeping her arm through the water in a welcoming
            gesture, Peg said, "C'mon Billy.  Join me.  Please.  I
            don't want to soak all alone . . . and you promised."  The
            last bit was said with a petulant, little-girl tone.

                  "Okay, okay, okay.  Just a minute, will ya?"

                  Turning my back, I slipped out of my jeans and
            undershorts as I thought, "Shit!  Why didn't I take my
            shirt off first...now she'll be looking at my bare ass!"

                  In a sing-song, little-girl voice, Peg chanted, "I
            see Billy's bu-ut, I see Billy's bu-ut."

                  Once again, she broke the tension of my
            embarrassment and I laughed at myself.  Stripping off my
            shirt, I swung around and stepped into the tub, watching
            Peg watch me. Sure enough, her eyes were focused on my
            hard-on as I sat in the stream of bubbles from the
            Jacuzzi.  Then she looked into my eyes and said, "Nice!"

                  I decided to take the offense and said, "Speaking of
            nice butts..."

                  Her smile was dazzling as she responded, "Well,
            thank you, kind sir."

                  "Tell me, Peg...what is it?  I mean, what is it
            about being naked that you like?  Do you like to show your
            body to people...to a guy?  Or is it that you like to look
            at other people?"

                  The water was a little too hot for me, so I sat on a
            higher step, partially out of the water.  Glancing down, I
            could see through the swirling bubbles. My cock appeared
            and disappeared, often looking distorted.

                  "It is a little too hot, isn't it?" Peg agreed and
            slid up to the same step across from me.  The water and
            bubbles ran off her breasts and I could see her entire
            front.  She had no tan lines around her full breasts and
            her nipples were erect and dark.  As they had at the
            airport, they swayed slightly as she ran her hand over the
            water.  My proper upbringing wanted me to look away,
            politely...while my libido had quite another agenda.
            Score one for the libido.  I stared.

                  She continued, "Both actually.  I mean, I like to
            look at other people and I get a real thrill when I know
            someone's looking at me... at my tits for instance...like
            you're looking.  Like 'em?"

                  "Does a bear shit in the woods?  Like 'em?  That's
            not nearly strong enough."

                  "Oh goody!  I'm so glad we can be buddies and we
            can share our inside stuff with each other.  I mean, it's
            not like we're going to have sex or anything, but I really
            like that you like me, that you...uh . . . like my tits."

                  "Peg, I can talk with Mom about anything...or
            *almost* anything. But I've never had a girl that would be
            open with me about . . . well, about sexual things.  If I
            sound awkward, it's because I am."

                  "Billy, we're going to be together all summer.
            Let's agree that we can talk with each other about
            anything...about everything...okay?  No judgment?"

                  "Well, if you're not put off by my...my
            erection...then I'd just love to talk with you
            about...girls' bodies and about... sex.  I must have about
            a million questions."

                  "Yeah-yeah-yeah...me too.  I mean, I was able to
            talk with my ex-husband about a lot of things, but there
            were some things that he got embarrassed about...and that
            made me embarrassed.  Know what I mean?"

                  "It works the other way for me, too.  What I mean
            is...because you're not embarrassed by me or our
            conversation, then I'm not.  Like that?"

                  "Sure.  Just like that.  For instance, I always
            wanted to examine Paul's dick.  Oh, he'd let me look at it
            a little, I guess, but I think he always was a little put
            off and that spoiled it for me.  Even more, I wanted to
            show him my...what shall I call it...my pussy?  Yeah, my
            pussy!  I wanted to show it to him but he really didn't
            want to look at it.  I could tell."  She paused and then
            added a little sadly, "I think he thought it was ugly."

                  "What a jerk!"  That was about the gravest putdown I
            could think of.  "I love pussies," I declared, with a
            fervor usually reserved for the 'niners. "When I was a lot
            younger, there was a girl next door and she let me..."  I
            caught myself.  With eyes wide, I put the pulp of my
            fingers across my lips and said, "Oops.  Don't mean to
            tell tales out of school."

                  Laughing, Peg said, "Yeah.  Me too.  Only the guy
            next door was younger than me!  Like you."

                  In some silent synchroneity, we sat looking at each
            other.  The swishing hum of the Jacuzzi was the only
            sound. I reached over and punched the Off button and
            watched the bubbles disappear, revealing Peg's belly and
            the juncture of her thighs.  Through the clearing water, I
            could see her pubic hair, light brown in color and trimmed
            to a broad vertical swatch.  I couldn't see the lips of
            her sex...just her mons. Again, I could feel my heart beat
            and my dick started to hurt it was so hard.

                  Peg whispered, "Billy, wanna see?"

                  Looking up into her eyes, not certain what she was
            asking, I nodded dumbly.

                  She stood up and the water drained off her belly and
            thighs.  She opened her stance and I could see the water
            running off her pubic hair and pussy lips.  It was like
            she was peeing in the water.  Her lips were bare!  She'd
            shaved the hair from her lips.  They looked like the
            little girl's next door had looked.

                  Now it was my turn.  "Nice!"  I observed, looking
            directly between her legs.

                  In a breathy voice she replied, "Thanks," as she sat
            on the edge of the tub.  She lifted one foot to the edge
            of the tub and rested her cheek on her knee as she swung
            the other knee away, completely opening her sex to my
            stare.  The lips of her pussy opened as her legs spread
            and for the first time in my life I could see the
            mysterious coral tissue of a pussy.  The outer lips were
            tanned and clean shaven.  The inner lips were more
            delicate and pink, connected in a hood at the top of her
            slit.  Her clit was barely seen at first, but when she
            reached down and pulled her lips up and open with the
            inverted-V of the second and third fingers of her right
            hand, her clit suddenly looked larger and very pink.

                  "This is my pussy, Billy.  Have you ever seen
            one...I mean on a grown-up woman?"

                  "No.  Well, yes...but only in pictures.  God!
            You're beautiful!"

                    Unthinking, I began stroking my dick as I stared
            at her, entranced.

                  Peg bent over, looking between her own splayed legs
            and with the forefinger of her left hand, she traced a
            touch from between the cheeks of her butt up to the
            exposed clit. Touching the nubbin of her clitoris, she
            shuddered and softly moaned.  "I think a girl's pussy  -
            or do you call it a cunt?  - anyway, I think that a girl's
            pussy is so intimate.  You know...you can see *into* a
            girl...there's something about seeing into someone that is
            so private.  And it is that intimacy that just thrills me.
            Know what I mean?"

                  She'd buried the tip of one finger in her cunt, up
            to the middle knuckle, and was slowly stirring.  She
            continued, "It'd be like you bending over and showing me
            your ass hole, Billy...or more like you opening up your
            ass hole and showing me the pink inside."

                  She shuddered again and said, "Oh, that makes me
                  shiver!"

                  By this time I was standing close to her, a little
            bent, looking at her finger move through the slit of her
            bare pussy as I was fisting my cock...masturbating without
            even knowing it.  Without knowing it that is, until I was
            suddenly on the brink of cuming...then I knew it!

                  I couldn't move...and I couldn't stop.  I was going
            to shoot and I just couldn't stop.  Looking up into her
            eyes I grunted, "Gotta cum...gonna cum!"

                  "Yes!  On me.  Cum on me, Billy.  Me too.  Right on
            my pussy. Right on my cunt.  On my asshole...oh, cum, cum,
            cum for me, please... PLEASE!"  I could hear her voice as
            it ran on, almost guttural and I could hear the slapping
            sounds of my right hand on my cock.  I could see her
            hands...the left finger fucking herself deeply and the
            right thumb strumming her clit.  Her words ran together
            and became a crescendo scream as I shot ropy bursts of
            white, thick cum over her hands and pubic hair and the
            lips of her open pussy.  My orgasm was so intense, it
            almost hurt in its pleasure.  My legs were weak and my
            head was dizzy. I couldn't stand any more and fell back
            into the tub.

                  My next awareness was Peg's voice saying, "Oh,
            Billy. That was wonderful.  That was so hot.  You can't
            know how much I needed that. Thank you, thank you...oh
            yes, thank you!"

                  Lifting her hand, she looked at her fingers and then
            licked the puddles of cum off her wrist and the back of
            her hand as she looked into my eyes.  "I love the taste of
            cum!"

                  A jolt of searing fear went through me.  Peg and my
            mother were such close friends, Peg would tell Mom and
            then...God, I'd be in deep shit.  I asked, "You gonna tell
            mom about this?  Oh, please don't tell her.  What'll she
            think?"

                  With a nasty little laugh, Peg said, "Billy, your
            mom knows more about you than you think.  She *knew* we
            were going to do this...she'd already given me the okay.
            Said it'd be good for you.  Your mom's a hot lady, don't
            you know?"


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