Mythology from widely diverse cultures repeatedly tells of incestual sexual relations, frequently between father and daughter, more often between mother and son. Most if not all mythology has some basis in fact. Incest does occur, if not in reality, then most certainly in the fantasies of the human mind. This is borne out by the public's reaction to Freud's early work, the quick leap to the conclusion that the psychiatrist was inferring that all boys crave sexual intercourse with their mothers, and vice versa.
Sibling rivalry is another subject occurring regularly in mythology and one which has been studied extensively by psychiatrists and psychologists. Jealousy between brother and brother, sister and sister. Along with this goes the often studied penis-envy, a yearning of a maladjusted sister, for instance, to have the sexual equipment of a favored brother.
Sibling rivalry, penis-envy, and incest have been studied extensively and have been laid down in psychiatric journals as the root causes of considerable human unhappiness. But from mythological times until quite recently, puritanical censorship codes have kept these human behaviorisms out of the novelist's work. You could read about these things in dry medical journals--if you had access to them--and you could read about them in mythology books--if you could wade through the mystic symbolism in these volumes. But in contemporary fiction, the literature truly read by the public, these human behaviorisms were cautiously ignored. Until recently.
Amid a great many admonitions, along with a huge amount of money spent on legal proceedings, censorship laws were changed and it became possible for the popular writer to include all human behavior in the books he was writing for the average citizen. Of course at first there was a great welter of quickly and poorly written books that dealt in nothing but sexual frankness, books that outdid each other in the number of times they could print the word fuck. These books sold well, for it was a novelty to be able to buy a book with that particular word in it. But they only sold well for a while, because there was very little of substance to connect the string of fucks in these books. Now at last the true impact of the censorship ban is emerging, exemplified by the book you now hold in your hands.
This book does contain the word "fuck", and several other formerly verboten words. It also contains a close look at a fictitious but wholly believable case of double incest, of sibling rivalry, and of penis-envy. The material in this book is not couched in psychiatrist's terms nor is it set in the surreal surroundings of fabled mythology. Contemporary language is used in describing the confrontations between pubescent boy, widowed mother, and libertine aunt. Middle class suburbia is the setting for the explosive actions triggered by the visit of the aunt to the tensely quiet, manless household. Sin, punishment, and salvation is the theme of this work which goes far deeper than a mere showcase for the word, "fuck".
Fresh, sparkling new titles in the Surree Collectors' Series reach your favorite newsdealer or adult bookstore at the same time every month. We will be there waiting for you, along with the Surree Collectors' Series companions, the Rated X books and the HIS 69 gay titles. Serious collectors of strictly adult reading will want them all, side by side on their private bookshelves for definite re-reading and ready reference.
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CHAPTER ONE
Unless Liz was badly mistaken, her nephew Paul was playing with his pecker as he sat across the breakfast table from her. This almost certain knowledge pleased her greatly, for she adored the pleasures of getting a male all hot and bothered and then making the most of his excitement to satisfy the warm desires constantly flowing in her very ripe body. The fact that Paul was a close relative and only fourteen years old did not detract from her pleasure now. Perhaps it even heightened that pleasure, because of the forbidden nature of his excitement, and because he was almost certainly a virgin. Ever since her arrival on Friday, Liz had feared she was in for a very dull two weeks stay with her widowed sister and her very shy nephew, but now, on Monday morning, Liz's panties were getting nicely wet and her whole outlook was brightening. Things would look brighter still once she made absolutely sure little Paul was masturbating while he looked at her.
The boy was hunched over his cereal bowl, apparently intent on reading the message printed on the box of corn flakes that sat on the table between them. His thirty-six-year-old aunt was sipping her coffee as she read the morning paper. In addition to her tight white panties, all she had on was flimsy, flowered housecoat which provided ample exposure for the deep cleavage between her large round tits. It was her tits that inspired most of the lad's excitement. She had brazenly lovely features, lustrously thick black hair, and a creamy white complexion, but her sure knowledge of men and boys told her that Paul's initial excitement toward her was because of her nice big tits.
In spite of himself, he'd been looking at her tits in every way he could ever since her arrival. The shape of them, the size, the way they softly jiggled when she walked, all had combined to keep his pecker so hot and hard and itching that he couldn't keep his hands off it. And so now, at the sunlit breakfast table, alone with his aunt at last, he simply couldn't keep from massaging his burning pecker through the faded fabric of his denim cut-offs. He was being so clever about it that he was sure she couldn't tell what he was doing. He would die of embarrassment if she caught him at it. And his mother would kill him. Still he couldn't stop.
Liz could just see his right shoulder beyond her newspaper page. It was flexing rhythmically, and this was the clue that told her of his excitement. It stopped when she turned a page of the paper mi smiled at him, and it started up again when the newspaper was between them once more. She wondered if there was a picture on the back page of the paper that was arousing him to the point of jerking off, and then she realized it was really her who had him so nicely worked up, and that each time the paper came between them he was looking at her reflection in the window by the table. She had to give her only nephew more to look at than that.
Even in the dimly reflecting window, the woman so close to Paul was a fantastically beautiful, wonderfully sexy one. She had knockers like you couldn't believe, and Paul had jerked off four or five times over the weekend just thinking about those. Her big, sweeping hips and her globular big butt had forced him to jerk off some more times. He hated himself for doing it, but since her arrival he was either jerking off or raising a new hard-on. Now the mere closeness of her was enough to get him going. Her perfume, lightly tinged with sleepy perspiration, the warmth he could feel emanating from her under the table, even her hands that held the paper had him crawling all over with hot, completely forbidden desire. She was big, almost fat, and even older than his skinny mother, and he was miserably ashamed of himself for his terrifically evil feelings toward her. He decided he'd jerk himself off one more time after breakfast, then never do it again for as long as he lived.
Liz set the paper down and stretched, smiling at Paul with her full red lips and her long-lashed, bedroom eyes. Her heavy bosom swelled with her stretching and he bit his lip to keep from staring at her there. "What are you up to today?" she said, and Paul's hot hand trembled on his hotter prick and he mumbled, "Aw, nothing."
"Such a beautiful day," she said, looking out the window to the back yard, "I suppose you'll find a place to go skinny-dipping."
His shorts and tee-shirt were binding to him, all hot and sticky to his body. The thought of being naked made him pant through his open mouth, and he panted again as he looked straight at her luscious big tits while she continued to gaze out the window.
"I used to love to take off all my clothes and go swimming with your mother when we were just girls. It felt so good on a hot day," she said, sensuously hugging herself, lifting her creamy white tit mounds to even more prominent display. "Sometimes the boys would sneak up and watch us through the bushes." He squirmed and she giggled and went on. "One day one of the boys couldn't stand it any more and jumped in with us. Your mother screamed and ran. I stayed, the rest of the boys jumped in, too, and we really had a time for ourselves till your mother came back with our dad. "Whew!" Liz squirmed and rubbed her bottom. "Did he ever blister me when we got home. Ah, the good old days," she said, and lit up a cigarette and gazed on out the window while Paul kept his hot red face turned toward her tits. She didn't need his reflection in the window pane to tell her he was masturbating under the table again--now she could smell it, and it set her mouth as well as her pussy to watering.
Paul's prick was so hard it hurt, and his Aunt Liz looked so soft that he wanted to moan. He was sure somebody had fucked her at some time in her life--maybe one of those boys naked swimming with her?--and the thought of that made him mad. He longed with all his heart to be grown up, but he knew that when he did grow up, his aunt would be an old, old lady. All he could ever do about her was look and jerk off and be in love with her forever. She stirred and brushed his foot with hers and he almost creamed in his shorts. It was agony being so close to her, but it would be torture to leave.
"Excuse me, Paul," she purred. "I didn't mean to kick you."
"It's okay," he squeaked, ready to be trampled upon if that's what it took to stay close to her.
"You don't look well," she said with some concern. "You look as if you might be running a fever," said she, and he shivered hotly all over as she reached out a cool, soft hand and touched his brow, letting her robe fall farther open, exposing still more of the shadowy white velvet globes of her tits.
"I feel okay," he managed to say, as her wonderful hand crept over his forehead and down to his cheeks, over his burning ear and round the sweating nape of his neck.
His eyes were all glazed and his tongue was almost hanging out in his raging desire, and Liz was loving every moment of the torment she was putting him through. She'd love it even more when she'd finished teasing him half to death and started screwing him good and proper.
"You might be getting a summer cold," she told him, as her caressing hand kept his fever raging and her decolletage kept moving before him. "You probably need a tonic, or a nice cool enema."
"It's awful... warm this morning," Paul muttered, squirming his tingling balls in a pool of sweat.
"Would you like your auntie to give you an enema, dear? Would you hold still for that?" she said, eliciting new shivers from him by tracing the outline of his jaw and lips with her fingertip.
"Wh--whatever you say, Auntie Liz," said the lovesick boy, and glanced directly at her tits for a moment, and felt faint from doing so.
She had him stammering and blushing and about to burst with longing for her, but that wasn't quite enough. Smiling warmly, she silently coaxed his hands up on the table and grasped them in hers. She could smell the young cock they'd been fondling under the table and she hoped that cock was itching like fire right now. She felt a sympathy for this bashful virgin boy for he was her sister's son, but she also felt a delightful little cruel streak toward him in the remembrance of all the slights and hurts she'd felt at the hands of males not too much older than he. She also felt her panties getting wetter and wetter as she actually had her hands on him now.
"All right," she said, "we have a date for an enema. I give very good ones."
"Oh? Yuh do?"
"Mm--hm--m--m. Do you like getting an enema, Paul?"
"I guess so. I. . . sure," said the boy, hands in the soft prison of hers, yearning to leap out at the much larger softness of the big bosoms that swam in his misted vision.
"Paulie?" she said.
"Huh?" said he, hating her use of the diminutive of his name.
"You don't even know what an enema is, do you?"
He colored anew, hung his head miserably and slowly shook it, staring straight at her tits now and wishing he could die.
She patted his hands. "You'll find out. It's just what you need to get you out of your mopiness. I never saw such a mopey, star-gazing boy in my life. You'd think you've never even seen a woman before in your life, and I know very well you've looked at your mother when she was undressing and things."
"I didn't!" he weakly protested, and just as weakly tried to pull away from her, but her hands wouldn't let him. "Besides," he mumbled, "she isn't like you."
"Helen's a very good-looking woman. Not exactly built like me, perhaps, but...." She took a hand from his to slip it inside her housecoat and quite brazenly fondle one of her big warm jugs, making her nephew frankly gape. "But then few women are built as well as I am. Would you like to see?" she said, with her lightly veiled hand moving everywhere on her velvety smooth tit, and on the generously big nipple that was already stiffened to a softly rigid point.
"I... could I?" he implored. "Would you ... let me look at 'em ... at you?"
Liz drew her other hand back and poised it at the closure of her robe. She hesitated, relishing the fearful pleading in his eyes. She laughed and shook her head. "Better not. You'd tell your mother and she wouldn't understand."
"But I wouldn't! Oh, please, Aunt Liz! Please, I'd do anything, just to ... just to LOOK at you!"
"You'd always be a good and obedient boy, and do everything and anything I ask of you without any complaining?"
"Yes! Oh, yes, Aunt Liz!"
"And you'd promise not to breathe a word of it to your mother or to anyone at all?"
"I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die!"
"And you'd take your enema and like it?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"And you'd show me what your prickie looks like?"
"I believe I'll go take my shower," Liz said, and bundling her robe around her bounteous breasts, started to rise from the table.
"Wait!" he blurted. "Don't go yet! I'll. .. I'll show you anything you want! I'll do anything you want me to! If you'll just... let me ... lookatcherboobs!"
"Beautiful big things," she purred, already baring them as she sank back into her seat. "Lovely big tits that women are all jealous of and that men adore to get their hands on," she said, lifting and fondling the big beauties in the most sensuous manner for the further excitement of the gape-jawed, goggling boy. "Yes, I'm so proud of these beauties of mine, and I love to touch them and play with them and kiss them almost as much as a man does," she said, and amply demonstrated this by lifting a heavy globe and capturing a turgid brown nipple between her ruby lips.
She winked at him as she sucked sensually on it, smiling, feeling the sensation down to her increasingly raging pussy, and now he moaned aloud and twisted his face up and dropped his hands into his lap. At once she let her kiss-wet nipple pop from her lips and beckoned to him with a red, lacquer-tipped finger, saying, "Hands on the table, Paul. No more jacking off, and that's an order."
"I didn't! I WASN'T!" he said with all righteousness, eyes never leaving her bare tits for a moment.
"And no lying," she sternly said, and began to cover up her breasts.
"I won't do it any more!" he promised.
She smiled as his hands returned to the tabletop and resumed the heavy fondling of her breasts. She looked down with him at the movements of her hands, saying, "Women's tits are so lovely. I can understand mens' fascination with them. They fascinate me, too. I enjoy looking at a pair of well-shaped tits. Like Racquel Welch's. Like your mother's. But I have my very own set of well-shaped tits to look at any time I want to, and I can play with 'em, too. Mm--m--m--m. They feel so good. And they're big enough for me to suck on, too," she said, demonstrating this briefly once again. "I just love my big old titties," she said, milling and squeezing them before his bulging eyes. "I'm so glad I have such big ones," she proudly reported, and took her hands away to shake them back and forth like water-filled balloons.
"Ah--h--h, they're bee--yootiful!" he moaned, and slumped down in his hard-backed chair.
"Hands on the table," she reminded him, and pulled her nipples to sharper, more sensitive points.
"If I could only touch 'em once," he murmured, pleading with his moist brown eyes while his hands twitched helplessly on the table.
"You can if you're good, Paulie. But first come around here on my side of the table and show me what you've got."
He slumped farther in his chair. "I don't think I can get up."
She looked away from him, down to her big white tits, and murmured, "I think you'd better, dear."
"Jeezus--Peezus," he mumbled, rasping back his chair and swaying to his feet. "I don't know what I'm doin', he said, weak fingers fumbling at the buttons of his cut-off denims.
When it came to men's flies, Liz knew what she was doing. Her hand snaked out and grasped his wrist to pull him stumbling around the table to her side. She'd seen a lot of men's pricks, and she'd used most of the ones she'd seen, but the prospect of each new one still excited her deeply and this one was no exception, even though it did belong to a beardless boy. "Don't. I don't know if I can stand it," he said, swaying and sweating, in such a torment of embarrassment that he even looked away from her heavily hanging tits.
"You'll stand it and you'll like it," said Liz, working the top two buttons open, then ripping open the rest as the prominent bulge in his thin little shorts proved itself to be a fine little pink-headed prick, untouched by the cruel knife of the circumcising doctor.
"Oh, Paul! Oh, just look what you've got!" she excitedly exclaimed, softness of tit fully forgotten now in the glorious hot hardness of young cock.
She had one hand curled around it at once. "Please! Don't!" he babbled, reaching for his shorts.
She jerked them out of his hand, letting them fall to his ankles, never letting go of his wonderful hard young prick for a moment. Even though she'd had a rousing good screwing just a few days before, Liz felt as horny as she ever had in her life before. She knew she should linger over this first meeting with his cock, make the most of it and of his embarrassment, but she also knew he was young and strong enough to be rejuvenated quickly, and so she didn't hold back at all.
"Hold still, darling. I'm going to make you feel good," she breathlessly promised, moving her soft hand quickly up and down his hard cock. "Darling little balls and a perfectly beautiful little ass," she excitedly said, feeling quickly of each of these erotic portions of the man-child's body with her free hand while she rapidly jerked him off. "Don't move, and don't hold back," she commanded, and he uttered a thin, whining wail and began to shoot and spurt through her loving hand.
It had been years since Liz had had a boy this young and she'd forgotten how forcefully they ejaculated. His lovely white semen spat out in hard jets, certainly in full proportion to the hard pleasures a boy of his age experienced in cumming. She gasped in surprise at the first of these arrowlike jets shooting from his bone-hard pecker, then caught herself and with hand still flying turned the rosy pink head of his prick so that the rich white goo could kiss her tingling hot tits.
"Get it all out! Every bit of it!" she hotly whispered, wonderfully aroused, far more than she'd thought she would be, and demandingly pumping more and more of the boy-cum out of his pulsing prick and onto her tits and her robe.
He was moaning and swaying, tight little balls exploding through his prick time after time, time after time, and still Liz demanded, "Does it feel good? Do you like it when I make you cum like this?"
"Ah-h-h-h! Oh-h-h-h!" he replied, close to fainting, not believing the enormity of feeling she'd made possible for him.
"Oh--h--h, yes, it's so good, it's so good," she purred, cumming herself in a way, and clutching his spare little buttocks to hug him against her so that his now oozing prick was embraced by those big old tits that had been so helpful in his seduction. "Nothing like cumming, and as long as you're a good boy, your Auntie Liz will make you cum all the time while I'm here, all the fucking time, darling!"
CHAPTER TWO
Paul felt ripped apart by the long, heavy ejaculation. Though his well-exercised prick was still good and hard, he felt completely drained and quite dazed and logey from the unexpected jerking-off his lovely Aunt Liz had given him. He sagged against her comfortingly soft bulk, feeling her tits with his wet prick rather than with the hands that had longed for them, and he was far too dazzled to realize what she was doing now.
"Such a good boy. He had himself such a nice big cum," Liz purred, smoothing his hard cock deep against her soft tits, rubbing his sticky semen all over her big beauties and lifting her hand when she could to lick her wet palm and taste his rich young goodness.
She'd gobbled down a lot of cum in her life. She enjoyed the flavor of it and was a believer when it came to the health-giving, sex-stimulating qualities of semen. A mature man's cum tasted wholesomely good to her, an old man's cum was quite palatable, but this young lad's cum tasted like nectar to her. Time and again Liz licked her palm clean, returned it for more of the slick goo on her tits, then milked the last thick pearly drops from his still-hard prick and sucked them off her fingers--all without his innocent knowledge. He wouldn't be so innocent for long.....
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I couldn't help it," Paul muttered in a fluttery voice, unsure of the reality of the situation but nevertheless very much embarrassed. "I gotta get my pants back on," he said, and tried to stoop and reach them.
Liz straightened him up with a goose and said, "Nonsense. You won't be needing those for a while. Heavens, I've hardly even seen you, and there's such a lot to see. You've a darling little prick, Paulie, and with my help it'll grow to be a nice big one," she said squeezing it and looking at it as she held it in the palm of her hand.
"I'm so glad you're not circumcised. It's fascinating the way your little foreskin rolls back and forth over the knob of your pricky-poo," said she, holding him locked in the circle of her strong right arm while she examined his prick at eye level.
"Such a pretty thing, the shaft so white and slim, the knob so rosy pink, and still nice and hard for me. So pretty I've just got to . . . m-m-m-m...."
She touched her lips to its dampened knob and he stiffened and tried to draw away. "Don't! That's not nice," he said, fully aware of his near total nudity now and quite desperate to do something about it.
She laughed and looked up at him, stroking his prick and fondling his balls, and said, "What's not nice about kissing a pretty thing like a boy's prick?"
"It's what qu-queers do," he explained, wondering for the first time just what sort of a situation he'd gotten himself involved in.
She kissed his prick and sighed and said, "I guess that makes me a queer, whatever that is." She patted and squeezed his naked buns, wonderfully firm and round, and said, "You're just such a pretty boy that I can't take my hands off you. We're going to have such fun together. I'm so glad I decided to take my vacation with you and Helen. Let's see if your balls are as pretty as your prick, dear."
"Don't," he asked of her again, more weakly now as her hand moved back and forth between his legs, first pushing his tightly sacked nuts up to his puckering asshole, then dragging them, forward where she could gaze at them while they nestled on her soft palm.
"Why? Doesn't it feel good?" said his aunt, beaming a radiant smile up at him while continuing to fondle his balls in that spectacular way and brush his inner thighs with her hand and pet and play at his buttocks.
Paul's prick was as hard as it had ever been in his young life. Without a hair around it, it stood naked up at an angle from his loins, making it quite impossible for him to deny the deeply sensual pleasures he was feeling at the knowledgeable hands of his aunt. He was tingling all over from the residues of his bursting orgasm and from the very erotic massaging he was getting but still his deeply ingrained modesty prevented him from letting himself go with the pleasures at hand. It all felt so very good that he knew there was something wrong with it.
He gulped and said, "It feels weird. It feels ... I better go. I gotta mow the lawn and things or Mom'll be mad."
"Oh, she's always mad at something or other. There's plenty of time for your chores. Stay with me now and we'll have some more fun," said Liz, for his very complete orgasm had sharply whetted her appetite for a good cum for herself.
"I gotta do my work," he said, and again tried to pull away.
Her arm locked around his hips and her nails dug into his buttflesh. Her smile faded and an eyebrow lifted and she said, "As I recall, you promised to obey me."
He squirmed in mixed embarrassment and pain and said, "Yeah, but. .."
"No buts," she said, digging in with her claws. Her deep blue eyes bored into his until his gaze wavered away into acquiescence, and then she smiled and patted his ass and said, "Come, let's wash up a bit, dear. Just leave your shorts where they've fallen."
Liz rose from the breakfast table and strode through the little tract house toward the bathroom, robe trailing behind her like wings. Paul followed dejectedly, fearfully, too caught up in his feelings of guilt and fear to fully appreciate the saucy lilt of his aunt's womanly big hips and the provocative bobbing of her wavy black hair. If only he had something on besides his tee-shirt, he felt, he might be able to control his childish blushing and his itchingly hard prick.
She led him on into the bathroom and he had to stand there twisting his hands before his naked loins while she stood in front of the sink. He watched with mild distaste as she smeared more ruby lipstick on her lips, and he managed a weak smile at her as she winked at him while rubbing her glossy lips together and licking them with a very pink tongue. But his smile grew genuine and his eyes bulged out when she shrugged off her robe and let it fall behind her.
Liz understood her nephew's post-orgasmic guilt and she also understood the fascination of her lovely big tits. Although she was well-built all over, with fine tapered legs and a superbly rounded bottom and a softly slim waist, her tits were indeed the best part of her. At her age they were starting to sag a bit from their ample weight, but they still retained much of the shape of vibrant youth. They were big blunt cones, fully rounded on their undersides and creamily sloped on top, crested with coaster-sized aureoles around sharply protuberant brown nipples. Just a glimpse of her naked tits was more than enough to distract a boy from his guilt, and Liz was giving young Paul more than just a glimpse.
Her tits quivered and shook in a wholly fascinating way as she lathered her hands with scented soap. They were bulging down right over the sink, not a yard away from him, while she stood there with nothing on except a pair of plain white panties and prepared to wash herself. He hardly noticed the flashing red smile she shot him now and was scarcely even aware of his sharply upright prick as he watched her well soaped hands fondle and caress her tits in spreading the lather over them.
Her hands moved so very smoothly there. The heavy globes yielded to their every touch as tiny bubbles of white were spread on to help make the big beauties glisten and gleam with increasingly erotic beauty. He nodded mutely as she spoke something about cleanliness and hygiene in sex, his avid eyes not missing even a microsecond of the spectacular tit show that was his to behold. She was the most beautiful woman in the world and Paul was hopelessly in love with her once again.
Sudsy water was drooling down Liz's belly to wet the front panel of panties whose crotch was already more than just damp, but she didn't mind a bit. As expected, she'd totally captivated the boy once again, just as she'd always be able to captivate him. The feeling of power this gave her was quite pleasant, though not so pleasant as the feeling of anticipation of the total joys she'd soon be knowing once his training was well under way. She let the creamy foam drip from her titties as she drew him to the sink with her.
"We've got to wash you, too," she said, lathering her hands anew and fully enjoying his little gasp as she swathed his hairless loins in the creamy soapsuds.
She laughed as he emitted little squeaks and went up on his toes from the way she was delving a soapy finger up his butt while washing his balls. She kept brushing her slickened tits up against his chest, knowing full well the added effect this had on him. She kept telling him what a beautiful boy he was and what fun they were going to have together and his lovesick gaze at her was almost as satisfying as a cum.
"We're all nice and clean now. Ill rinse us off and then you can dry," she said, and splashed cool water on them until boy and woman were dripping in puddles on the bathroom floor.
Paul's hands had been twitching, itching to feel of her voluptuous white curves. He knew he was grinning like a fool but he couldn't help that as over and over he 'accidentally' brushed fingers against flesh far too soft and smooth for the likes of an undeserving boy like himself. His prick was touching her tummy, too, hugely embarrassing to him, but seemingly of no concern at all to her. That softly rounded tummy was now covered with white nylon that was so soaking wet as to be very nearly transparent. He was afraid to look at his aunt down there, but at least he was no longer afraid to look at her heavily pendant but still outthrusting tits, absolutely gorgeous, and surely the biggest in the whole world. He didn't believe he'd heard her right when she'd said he could dry her off and he was too confused and tongue-tied at the moment to ask for confirmation of this.
But sure enough, she turned off the water and handed him a towel, then stood dripping and gleaming and beautiful while he clumsily swabbed himself dry, looking openly at her now.
It was hard for his gaze to get past her tits. They were so very big, their white texture was so flawless, their nipples and aureoles so utterly intriguing. He'd often looked at his mother's breasts, always when covered by a dress of course, and marveled at the shape and size of them. He'd sometimes seen pictures of naked tits and he'd certainly thought about seeing real ones sometime, but never had he thought he'd see such perfect big ones as these, right up close, completely uncovered, and seeming to be pulsing and throbbing with vibrant life even though their proud owner stood motionless. And soon--quite unbelievably--he'd be touching them through the towel. ... He beamed a weak smile up at her lovely, lovely face and she blew him a kiss from her ruby lips. He blushed anew and cast his eyes down, getting his first clear look at her loins, tightly sheathed in that wet white nylon, which very clearly showed a wide, fanlike patch of black which he knew to be her cunt. He was almost sick with confused longing as he dabbed the last of the water from his aching nuts.
"Now dry me," she said, and languidly placed her hands behind her neck.
"Aw-w-w-w," he moaned, and dropped the towel, bent and picked it up, coming intoxicatingly close to her wide white loins. He felt dizzy. His head was swimming as he gingerly touched the towel to her elbows, then her arms, whose warmth and softness could clearly be felt through the towel.
She wiggled her torso back and forth again and said, "Dry me," and he moaned again in ecstasy and dropped his towel-covered hands to her tits.
"Oh-h-h. Oh, no-o-o. Oh-h-h-h," he moaned, as his trembling hands felt the full weight and softness of those glorious globes. "Oh, gosh. Aw-w-w, gee," he muttered, as he very gently blotted liquid spheres dry and felt the astonishing texture of the nipples he could no longer see.
Her hips swayed forward to brush his prick with her tummy, she raised her smile from her bosom to his face, and murmured, "You have nice hands. I'll bet the girls all love it when you feel them up."
He shook his head slowly, hands still moving slowly, and muttered, "Uh-uh. I never... even touched a girl before."
"D'you like it? D'you like playing with your auntie's big old foo-foos?"
"Oh, yeah! Oh, it's just... They just feel so ... I just never felt anything so ... so GOOD!"
"Then why don't you do it right?" she said, and drew the towel out from between them.
"Oh, Aunt Liz!" he said, looking from her tits to her eyes and back again. "I never felt anything so ... Oh my gosh!"
"You're a real titty-lover, aren't you?" she said, and covered his hands with hers to help him along. "You really enjoy a woman with big warm tits that love to get played with, don't you," said she, helping him more with her increasingly explicit language, and helping herself at the same time, for she loved to talk about whatever sex she was currently enjoying. She was well on the way toward an orgasm as she said, "You're the kind of a boy who'd love to kiss big titties like mine and suck on their nipples till you made your gal's panties all wet and hot. You are. I can tell from the feel of your hands on my tits and from the way you look at them so hot and hungry. Mm-m-m. Mm-hm-m-m. Has anyone ever taught you to French kiss?"
"I don't know ANYTHING," he whined, almost mauling those gorgeous big tits now, making the very most of it while he could.
"Then open your mouth and learn, Paulie," said this fantastic woman who was his aunt, and she placed her palms against his cheeks and drew his slack-jawed face forward toward the open red cavern of her lips, and the long pink beckoning tongue within.
They were of the same height. His nose got in the way for a moment and he felt he might drown in the deep blue of her eyes, but then he was feeling the sensation of a full-blown passionate kiss and nothing else mattered for the moment. Her mouth was warm and wet and sweet and very soft. He could feel it engulfing all of him. Her tongue was tangling languorously all around, inviting his into motion, and as he clumsily delved in her mouth he tasted something beyond the perfumed sweetness of her lipstick, something rich and almost rank and very perversely thrilling to him. He was holding his breath, trembling all over, and then he began to pant rapidly through his flaring nostrils as she began to suck on his tongue and pull him deeper into the kiss, deeper into ecstasy.
Her hands were soft yet very strong on his body, crushing him into her, it seemed. Her tits were now mashed flat against his chest and somehow his prick had gotten between her legs so that it felt the softness of her twat and the startling warmth there. His hands trembled lightly on her very soft waist while he stood there with every part of his body save his tongue in complete paralysis, and then he shuddered and shivered all over as she ran her hands up and down his back, inside his wet tee-shirt and over his tensed buttocks, raking him lightly with her nails. Every hair on his body seemed to stand on end at this, and then quite suddenly he was clutching her cushiony big fanny in frantic desperation and creaming heavily against her loins.
"Mmf! Mmf!" He tried to tell her he was sorry, tried to hold back the unexpected ejaculation. But already he was shooting as heavily as before, and there was no turning back from that, and now her arms were truly crushing him into the kiss and against her body, and the bear hug seemed to force more and still more of his strength and his jism out of him. He twisted feebly in her arms while she hugged and sucked harder and he kept cumming harder, squirting between her legs and up her belly. His tongue felt as if it might be torn out by the roots, and somehow he didn't care just as long as the embrace endured and his prick kept squirting and helping him remain in that state of ecstasy. But nothing lasts forever, especially the good things, and when his spurtings had dribbled off to oozings she suddenly released him and he sagged back against the shower door, panting through swollen lips, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you all messy again. I'm sorry, Aunt Liz."
CHAPTER THREE
"You should be sorry, you hair-triggered little sonofa . . ." Liz controlled her flaming temper better than she was controlling her flaming pussy. She looked down at her loins, all covered with his pearly goo, and she clucked at the waste of it and looked up at her nephew, still sagged against the shower stall.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I just never got kissed like that before. I mean, Mom never .. . NOBODY ever kissed me like THAT before. Are you mad at me?"
She was damned mad at him, though he wasn't the first male to leave her jangled and frustrated. He was close to tears in his contrition, but she'd give him more than a premature ejaculation to cry about when it was time for him to cry. She smiled and tousled his brown hair and brought forth an immediate smile from him. "Don't worry about it," she said. "You've plenty more where that came from. Whew! You've got me all weak in the knees," she said, and backed up and sat down on the toilet seat. Looking down at her well-creamed loins, she added, "And you've got me all pecker-tracked, too. Be a dear and wipe it off with that wash cloth."
Paul hesitated right where he was. His beautiful Aunt Liz somehow didn't look quite so beautiful now, seated on the crapper, leaned back against the commode, big tits sagging and widely opened loins all smeared with his fresh jism. He was appalled, repelled, and he could feel his pecker shriveling up to nothing. He longed to be out on a baseball field somewhere, in swimming at the beach, anywhere but in this fetid bathroom with this disgustingly wicked fat woman. But he was too much of a gentleman to leave her like this, especially since she was his aunt, and so at another gesture from her he gingerly picked up the washcloth and falteringly approached her.
The white flesh that he daubed at with the cloth had the consistency of jelly. An odor emanated from her loins that was slightly sickening to him, then almost nauseating as he recognized it as being very similar to the flavor of her deep French kiss. Even her tits didn't look so good by then, and he wondered what the big deal had been about getting to touch them. Women just weren't for him, he decided. It had been a scary and interesting experiment, but from then on he'd confine his sexual activities to masturbation, if he ever decided to have anything to do with sex at all.
But of course Liz, wise in the ways of the young male, was well ahead of him. His two quick spendings had certainly drained the sexual energies from even a body as young as his, and she was now looking forward with rather vengeful relish to reviving those energies in spades and then leaving him to wonder what was happening to him. She didn't think she'd be acting cruelly. If she thought anything at all in her current state of horny frustration it was that her actions were for Paul's good, and that by the time she got done with him he'd welcome any form of sexual arousement at all and make the most of it.
That musky, penetrating smell of her had Paul close to nausea as he dabbed and swabbed his goo from her big flabby thighs and crotch. He knew by then it was coming from her pussy, and he wondered how any man could stand to put his pecker in something as rotten as that. And it looked so weird, even inside her semi-transparent panties, with so much hair around it that there were wavy strands of it poking out from between her pallid, puffy thighs and her tight elastic legholes. But it was the smell of it that was getting to him, rising like steam from a pot of boiling cabbage as he bent over her and did for her what she should be doing for herself. He'd have to endure it for a few more minutes before he could get out of there and take off for the rest of the day.
She smiled like a lazy witch and ran her hand down over her bulging belly and crotch, fingernails looking bloodsoaked against the dull white of her panties. "That feels better. You got almost all of it, Paulie. Go over it once more now. It feels so nice to have you touch me down there between my fat old legs."
Fat is right, he said to himself, and quickly rinsed the washcloth and brusquely slapped it on her twat, making her give a start. Getting angry now as well as impatient, he managed to give one of her stray hairs a sharp pull, which made her wince and briefly frown, and which would surely get him out of there all the quicker.
He flung the cloth into the sink and started to turn out the door, but she stopped him with, "Wait a minute."
"I gotta go. I got things to do," he said, still waiting while she leisurely toweled her gaping fat crotch dry.
"I know you're a busy boy," she said, "but you can't leave a lady without kissing her good-bye."
She dropped the towel on the floor and smiled and held out her arms to him, sitting there on the gosh-damned crapper, lipstick all smeared and hair tousled and those big old floppy tits all over her chest. But if it took a kiss to get out of there, he could make the sacrifice. He stepped quickly to her, bent with puckered lips, and placed them on hers.
Of course she wouldn't let him get out of it that easily. Her hand curled creepily around his neck to hold his pure lips against her sullied ones, and Paul began to count from one hundred backwards, anything to distract himself from getting sick.
Her mouth didn't smell so bad now. Nothing could after being as close as he'd been to her pussy. In fact there was more sweetness than foulness on her lips now. And she wasn't trying to gag him with her tongue and she wasn't trying to suck him down inside her. Now her lips were quite soft, almost silky, and she was just using the tip of her tongue to tickle across his firmly closed lips. Her hand tickled, too, as it moved ever so slightly over his nape, raising the hackles there, making him sway toward her so that he had to steady himself with a hand on her very soft but inwardly powerful shoulder. Her hand brushing lightly up the side of his thigh raised gooseflesh all over him. He felt his prick giving him a warning twitch and at this he pulled away from her lest it get hard again and give her the wrong idea.
"Better get going now," he briskly said, pulling his tee-shirt down over his pecker and balls, still troubled by that gooseflesh.
She sat up straighter on the toilet seat, her altered posture performing miracles for her bulkily drooping breasts. Her smile was wistful now as she cupped each of them in her hands and said, "After the lovely massage you gave them, my big old boo-boos will miss you, too. I think you'd better kiss them bye-bye, too."
Jeezus-Peezus. Tit-kissing. He'd heard about it in rude jokes, dreamed about it in fevered nightmares. This might be his only chance in life to actually experience it, and if he was going to get by on masturbation from then on, he'd better give himself something to remember while he jerked off. Paul swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded and bent down to kiss a tit.
"Kneel down, honey. Do it right. Here, get between my legs," she said, and he did with the guidance of her soft, soft hands, grateful that this position concealed his hard, hard prick from her. Her tits were right before him now, each one looking as big as his head, each with its own big brown nipple pointing at him as if in warning. She wasn't giving him any help, she was running her hands over his shoulders and nape and tousling his hair, and he didn't know if he wanted to go through with it, but didn't know how to back out now. Her inner thighs felt clammy cold against his waist and her waist felt too soft under his quaking hands, but it was those weirdly textured, accusingly pointing nipples that bothered him the most. He took a deep breath, his stomach gave a turn at the smell of her pussy, and then he darted his head forward and gave each of the rubbery-looking protuberances a fast peck.
Paul leaned back breathless, licking his lips, quite surprised at how little her nipples actually felt like rubber. They felt like some sort of velvet. He licked his lips again, thinking of velvet-covered gum-drops, and his Auntie Liz purred and swelled her chest with a deep inhalation and said, "Nice, but not near enough for a real good-bye kiss. Have you got a few more kisses for my titties?"
He felt of them better with his lips this time, trying to compare the corrugated texture of the thrusting nipples to things he was more familiar with, but failing. Now he could see what the fuss about tit-kissing was; it was because it was so unique. He pecked back and forth at them pleased for her as well as for himself, for it was obvious that she liked it too. When he went from one to the other she was there to meet him, twisting her soft and supple waist so that another hard nipple was there as soon as his lips left one. He'd have a lot to remember about this, and he'd relive every moment of it while he was jerking off, just as soon as he could get someplace by himself. That would have to be soon, because his stiff prick was beginning to itch pretty badly. Paul gave his favorite nipple--the left one--a particularly resounding kiss and sat back on his haunches and pulled his tee-shirt all the way down.
"Nice," said his Aunt Liz, lightly teasing her well-stiffened nipples with her red-tipped fingers.
"Women just love to have their nips kissed. They like to have them sucked, too. Did you know that, Paul?"
"Huh-unh." He shook his head, staring straight ahead at the most magnificent pair of tits in the world, and rubbing his thighs with hands that longed to be on his pecker.
"Some women can cum just from having their tits sucked on, but the man has to really know what he's doing. I'll bet that's something else you didn't know."
His imagination swept him to the vision of swallowing one of those big things, stiff brown nipples, wide tan aureole, creamy white globe and all, and he gulped and muttered, "Gee."
She readied forward, tugged his tee-shirt out of his hands and up over his head, and his eyes were still focused on her tits when again he could see them. He gnashed his teeth as she made a beautifully sexy mouth, lifted a heavy round titty to it and touched her pink tongue-tip to the nipple. A look of ecstatic reverie transformed her face into one of a TV star, and she said to the naked, kneeling boy, "You don't know much about sex yet, but one thing you'll learn is that the mouth is a sex organ. The tongue, the lips, even the teeth are almost as important to having fun as a person's hands are. Right now you seem to think my wanting to kiss your prick isn't nice, but you'll find out differently someday. Someday soon, I hope."
He just wanted to kiss her tits one more time, feel 'em with his tongue maybe, and get out of there. He didn't even want to talk about kissing pricks, but he decided that was the price he had to pay for one more taste of her nipples. "Uh-huh," he said. "Can I do it now? I mean ... kiss your ... you there one more time?"
She smiled. "Do you remember what I taught you about French kissing?"
"Yeah." The gooseflesh rose again at the thought of that, and he became quickly aware of her fetid smell again. It was close to his nostrils now, but it didn't seem to affect the raging hard state of his prick at all. He was gnashing his teeth in a conflicting desire to stay and to go, and then she lifted his hands and placed both of them on her creamy big left tit and said, "Then French me, baby, French me good."
This was it. Those stupid little kisses of minutes ago were only lip-touchings. It was perfectly clear to him now, that nipples and mouths were made to go together and that hands were there to squeeze the big tit behind the nipple so that the mouth could suck it better and the tongue could taste more of it. Tit-sucking was the most fantastic thing in the world and he could never ever get enough of it. As long as he was sucking it, lashing nipple with tongue and digging fingers into resilient softness, even the rising scent of pussy was something good and exciting. Eyes closed, hands and mouth full, Paul inhaled deeply of his wonderful aunt's delicious scent, while she echoed back his deep, deep pleasures in a crooning voice.
"God damn, you really know how to suck tit. Well then, suck 'em, baby, suck on both of 'em and love 'em up with your hard little tongue and make your horny old auntie so fucking hot she'll cream in her panties. Darling, I love it. Oooo, you've got a wonderful mouth. Suck, baby, suck, till momma has a nice hot cum. Oooo, how I'd like to feel that hot mouth of yours on my cunt!" she said, and grasping him by the ears, she wrenched him away from her tit, bored deep within him with blazing eyes, and mashed her mouth on his.
Good God, her mouth tasted every bit as good as her tit had. And in the few minutes he'd had to kiss that tit, he'd learned a lot more about Frenching, which he frenziedly showed to her, sucking her tongue and mouthing her lips while his hands kept up the fires he'd started in her tits, her wonderful, wonderful tits. He knew the fires were there, that she was as excited as his prick was, for now she was panting through her nostrils like him and squeezing him hard to her, squirming up to the edge of the toilet seat and kissing him back with inspiring ardor. Her legs were around his waist, hauling him at her and mashing his naked belly against the firm big bulge of her twat, so wet and slick now that he knew it was from something other than their rinse water. He was fully engulfed in the kiss, mashing his mouth against hers and swapping tongues for all he was worth and suctioning as heavily as she was when she showed him a new sexy nuance of the fabled French kiss. With difficulty she pushed him back a bit until their opened and extended lips had parted, and there she kept his tongue in a tangle with hers while each panted into the other's mouth and he gulped deeply of the fantastically beautiful scent of woman in heat. Then with a moan of deep ecstasy she pushed his head down to her tits again.
"Suck tit, baby. Bite it. Oh! No, you didn't hurt me, bite it again. OH! AH! Oh, you sexy little shit, am I ever going to make a man out of you. Nnngngngngggggg. NNNGGGGGGGGG! AH-H-H-H-H-Y-Y-Y-E-A-H-H-H!!!" she wailed, as if she was having some sort of epileptic seizure, but that didn't bother Paul a bit, for he knew she was cumming and he knew he'd done it to her, so he kept right on gnawing and sucking on her rubbery old nipple, wanting to laugh at the way he was making her squirm and jump and moan on the toilet seat, and doing some squirming and pushing himself with his hard young belly against her wet and discernibly throbbing twat.
CHAPTER FOUR
Paul was sure his Aunt Liz was still cumming when he tore his hot mouth from her tit and wrenched himself out from between her encircling legs. He'd made up his mind on the spur of the moment to be a complete man, and now was certainly the best time to go through with it. She was still moaning and groaning, clawing at her abandoned tits and even grabbing at her big old cunt as he blurted, "Take off those pants. I'm gonna screw yuh. Right now!"
There was nothing Liz wanted more than to be screwed just then--unless it was the steady screwing and all that went with it that she needed so badly, and so she pulled her raging senses together and quelled her lovely little orgasm and said, "Darling, don't sweep me off my feet. I've got to rest for a bit after that marvelous tit-sucking you gave me. Oh, you're so wonderful, so forceful," she said, and clasped him hard around the neck and mashed her mouth on his with a lusty abandon sure to overwhelm him, which it did. He was panting when she leaned back against the commode, at least partially satisfied, legs sprawled out and lipstick smeared mouth smiling as she dragged him with her.
"Honey, you're such a passionate boy I don't know if I can keep up with you. You've just got to let me rest now and then. I don't believe I've ever had my tits sucked so nice before, at least not for a long time. You made me cum so good, and now you want to screw me right away. Do you think that'd be nice?"
"Sure! It'd be great... I guess," said Paul, with his belly up against that cunt he suddenly wanted so badly and with her wonderfully beautiful and marvelously sensitive tits right there to play with and kiss. He played with them, panted against them, pulling the delicious nipples to sharper points and licking the satiny white flesh of her globes as he said, "I'd love to screw you. I'd do anything to screw you. Show me how, Auntie Liz. Please show me how."
She hugged his hard young torso between her quivering soft thighs, wanting his prick in her so badly she could taste it, but resolved to hold back until she could possess every bit of him. "I'm not sure, Paul," she softly said. "I'm not sure it would be the right thing to do, and, well... . .."
"There wouldn't be anything wrong with it, would there?" he said, looking anxiously up at her wantonly lovely face.
"Not at the time, but you might think so afterwards. And ..."
"Who cares about afterwards?" he said, and took his hand from her tit to reach for her twat.
She accommodated him, opened her legs to let his eager hand slide down over the juice-slickened bulge of her nylon-covered cunt, shivered with anticipated pleasures and closed her legs on it. And she said, "You'd care afterward. That's what I'm afraid of. You might not like it, or . . ."
"I would! I would!" he declared, clutching at that weirdly mushy flesh of her twat in a way that made her squirm, and that made him want still more of it.
"... or you might not think it's nice," she continued, with admirable restraint "like you don't think sucking cock or eating pussy is nice."
That brought him up short for a moment. His hands stopped their compulsive movements on her body and his only caress came from his warm breath for a time before he said, "But screwing's different than ... than using your mouth. Isn't it?"
He looked up at her to ask this question and she took the opportunity to merge her mouth with his in a long, sensuous kiss that surely gave him more to think about. His eager trembling was a delight to her as she moved her clinging lips from his and said, "Both fucking and sucking are just awfully good. At least for most people...."
Paul buried his face against her tits and hugged her, trembling, beardless cheek pressed against her damp warm naked flesh. She petted his head, told him not to worry, that he had plenty of time left for fucking and even for sucking if the right girl ever came along. He felt like such a child, then even more like a child when his voice came out all squeaky as he said, "I'd do it. I'd let you do it. W-With your m-mouth, I mean."
She rubbed his head and hugged him, reminding him for a dreadful moment of his mother, and she said, "Plenty of time for that later, when you're really ready. Tsk. What a mess we've made in this bathroom, and you've got me feeling too relaxed and sexy to clean it up. Be a dear and mop up with those towels, will you?"
"Sure!" Anything to please her and to postpone the dirty talk about eating it now that he'd stated that he'd stand still for letting her do it to him. He exchanged another kiss with her and left the warmth of her encompassing thighs, grabbed a towel and began to swab up the puddled tile floor.
On his hands and knees, his tremendously hard prick bobbed about under his belly and his balls and asshole felt uncomfortably vulnerable. He knew very well his Aunt Liz couldn't see his privates and that his mother would be at work till noon, a couple of more hours, and thus couldn't come busting in and finding them like this. Still he'd never felt more naked in his life as he crawled around at his aunt's feet, sponging up the water and wringing it into the bath tub.
Of course he looked up at her while he worked. Who could resist looking at the most beautiful woman in the whole world, very nearly naked, and not a bit modest about her glorious nudity and smiling down on him as he did her bidding. She was all sprawled back on the toilet as before, legs open and out, make-up smeared, tits hanging, but looking incredibly lovely now. Her hands helped her erotic beauty, moving lazily over the body he'd been privileged to touch, to kiss, reminding him of every sensory pleasure he'd been lucky enough to experience with her. He could hardly pay attention to what he was doing as he watched those hands heft and caress the tits he'd come to love, move over that femininely bulging tummy, and sensuously stroke the big broad pussy that he had brought to a climax with his passionate kisses on her tits. He watched her hands, heard her voice, and fell deeper and deeper in love with her.
"It's going to be a lucky girl who gets you, Paul. You'll be just screwing her silly all the time. Night times you'll be sleeping together with nothing i between you but a bit of lace, and you'll do it to her, oh yes, you'll do it to her. And you're such a titty lover that I'm sure you won't be able to get to sleep without having a nice hard nipple in your pretty mouth. You'll wake up every morning with a big fat hard-on. Oh, your cock will grow so big! And before you even get up to take a piss you'll have to fuck your wife till the cum juice is running down her pretty legs. Be sure you marry a gal who's a hot one, like me, so you can get all you want of it right from the start. Don't marry a girl like your mother, pretty though she might be, because it might take years before you can get her to open up and admit she likes fucking and sucking as much as you do. And believe me, you'll like having your cock sucked and you'll like eating hot pussy by the time you're a grown boy."
He looked straight at her pussy, saw fat fat lips clearly outlined through slick wet nylon, and felt only a little of the nausea he'd experienced before.
She saw his look and liked it, and she toyed her fingers back and forth under her panties' elastic waistband, ever deeper in the thin, clinging garment as she said, "Yes, you'll be a regular satyr, a real pussy-hound when you grow up. You'll be like your aunt, not like your mother." She sighed, hand deep in her panties, fingers brushing matted black hair, and continued, "I doubt if your mother ever had a really good time with sex. It was partly your father's fault--rest his soul--but really, your mother never truly did get off to a good start when it came to boys. She was always too afraid. I don't know why. And then of course she was always the real beauty in the family, slim and pretty and with those great tits of hers, while I was the hell-raising fatty. She had real dates to proms and things; I got asked out to drive-in movies, knowing damned good and well the guy just wanted to get in my pants." Liz got deeper inside her own pants, fingering her outrageously puffed and slickened cunt lips, smiling at the sensation as much as at the awed reaction of her fumbling nephew at her feet. He was wearing a circle in the tile with the towel, so caught up was he with the scarcely veiled movements of her hand inside her panties.
"Who's to say which of us went the right way," she went on, Helen with her one marriage to an older man or me with my three marriages to rounders. Her with her nice little home and business and handsome son, or me with my kicking around and wild times. I don't know, but I wouldn't change it," she said, pulling softly at her fully distended clitoris, all hot and slick, and smiling in genuine reminiscence of good times past.
"But we've each chosen our way and we're not going to change. But you, you're whole life is ahead of you, and my best advice is to get yourself a gal with really hot pants and settle down with her, and for good measure find yourself a job where there's an older woman with REALLY hot ts you can get into as well. Wake up every morning and fuck your darling wife good and proper, drive to work, call in your secretary and say, 'Mrs. Murgatroyd, get your pants off and your ass up on that desk right now, before I fire you.' Naturally, she won't be wearing any pants and she'll jump right up there and ah-h-h-h .. ." Liz closed her eyes while she twiddled her clit, treating herself to a nice little orgasm before she went on. ".. .ah-h-h-hh, you'll eat hot horny pussy till you have Mrs. Murgatroyd screaming and creaming all over the carpet, then you'll shove eight inches of hard meat into her and be ready for the day.
"You'll do your work fast and at lunch you'll go to a place where they have cold cocktails, dim lights, and hot waitresses. You'll tongue-fuck one of those waitresses after lunch, a cute little trick who looks a lot like that Joey Heatherton, and when you get back to your office with that big stiff dick of yours, you'll call in Mrs. Murgatroyd and say, 'Suck that cock till the cream bubbles out the corners of your mouth,' and she'll do it cause she loves her job and she loves hot cock. Damn!" said Liz, squeezing her leaking cunt harder and shifting the big loaves of her butts on the toilet seat. "I'm getting myself all hot and bothered. I better knock this off. I better quit this and go out and find me somebody with a tongue that's as stiff as your dick and a dick that's as big as your arm. Whew! You got me really hot, Paulie, the way you look at me like that."
"Don't go," he said, close to whining, hand leaving the wet towel to go to her soft, cool foot. "Don't go 'way."
She leaned forward on her throne, tits swinging out at him, sinfully beautiful face looming closer. "But darling, I have to. I'm feeling so ... so sexy."
"But you don't have to go," he murmured, sliding closer over the cold tile, running a hand up her warm ankle and soft calf. He didn't care that his prick was in her view now, for it would always be hard in her presence. And he found it to be the easiest thing in the world to press a warm kiss against her knee to aid in his pleas. "Don't go. I'll... do what you want."
Liz's palms whispered over her big, soft, parted thighs as she gently said, "Do you know what I want?"
He swallowed hard and nodded, looking straight ahead between her heavily sculptured, pure white legs to the big darkened bulge of her crotch, and he croaked, "Eat it. You want me to ... kiss it."
She squirmed it about before his glazed over eyes. She moved her bare foot till it was between his legs, gently nestled against his tight little nuts and his hard little pecker. And she gently said, "Kiss what, Paulie?"
Through clenched teeth, he said, "Kiss your ... t-twat. You want me to kiss your twat," said he, getting ever closer to it, into that oddly compelling stink of it, and starting to believe he really might be doing it soon.
Liz curled a finger in his hair and purred, "But what is it YOU want to do, darling?"
"Dam it, I wanna kiss your twat!" he cried, and lunged forward at it, pressing an angry mouth against the source of all that funkiness and wetness and softness and real, living sexiness.
It jiggled through the tight nylon as she giggled and said, "Couldn't wait any longer for it, could you? Once you're past the smell, they say, you've got it licked," she went on, and even as the coarseness of her remark dawned upon him he kept right on kissing and mugging the bulging white slickness. Down on his hands and knees like a dog he was kissing it, knowing that if he did it good enough he'd get to screw it, but doing it just as good as he could for some other wild reason beyond that.
"Oooo-o-o-o," she said, squirming it for him and closing cushiony soft thighs on his cheeks. "With a little practice you're going to be as good a cunt-lapper as you are a tit-sucker. You like it already, don't you? You like the smell and the taste and the feel of a big hot juicy cunt against your mouth."
He looked up at her, rolled his eyes past her pendant, looming tits and solemnly nodded his head. She jiggled her twat again with another irritatingly girlish giggle and squeezed his cheeks harder with her silken inner thighs, and he savagely pushed them apart, the better to pelt the saturated crotchband of her panties with ferociously impassioned kisses. He was doing it, eating it, and it wasn't so bad at all!
"Oh, wait, honey," she said. "Oh God damn!" she exclaimed, and grabbed a handful of his hair. "Right there," she said, infusing him anew with her suddenly rising excitement. "Hold your pretty mouth right there and suck, lover. Oh, shit! Yeah, Paulie, yeah! Feel that big bump through my panties? Suck it, baby, suck it, oh, ah-h-h-h-h!" she moaned, in a thrilling fashion, as he ardently sucked on that nylon-clad bump, sucking in the liquid essence of her sex scent and swallowing it as fast as he could, so fucking excited by it all that he didn't know if he was cumming or not.
"That's my clit, my love-bump, my chili-pepper, and oh-h-h-h, it drives me nuts when you suck it and lick it and screw it and JUST TOUCH IT! Oh, SUCK IT!" she cried, thrashing about on the John and knocking things off the back of the commode, frightening Paul a little now, though not so much that he quit on his heavy cunt-sucking. He didn't care. He licked it and lapped it too, not giving one good God damn if he was dooming himself to a life as a cunt-sucker, not caring about anything at all in the real world he'd left behind him.
She was huffing and puffing like a steam engine churning about and throwing her tits all around. It didn't quit when he paused to catch his breath and substituted his fingers for his mouth. He wondered if all women came like this, decided that there just wasn't another woman in the world like his Aunt Liz, and bent to press his wet mouth against her far wetter cunt again. She uttered another soul-inspiring moan and pulled his mouth harder against her, gasping, "One more time. Make me pop my cookies one more time and then we'll get rid of these fucking pants and do it right. Oh-h-h-h-h,BABY!!!"
Her pants off? ! ? That was a different thing. All that hair he'd seen through them? Touching his mouth to the bare flesh that secreted that slick wetness? And what about germs? And--Jeezus-Peezus--what about the men's pricks that had certainly been inside the hole in her cunt at one time or another? Though Paul's prick remained as hard as could be, his enthusiasm waned.
She didn't notice it, cumming again as she was. Again? How many times had she done it, with him down on the floor like a dumb dog, patiently waiting to screw her but having to do this awful thing first. Of course, it wasn't so awful through her panties, no not so awful at all, but the very idea of all that very weird female flesh squirming and writhing under his naked mouth had him back to those feelings of nausea again. But what could he do? Politely excuse himself and leave? Feign a heart attack? Simply tell her that the thought of kissing her naked cunt turned his stomach? It was so hard to think when his brain and in fact his whole body was under the influence of that insidiously exciting cunt-perfume of hers, but nevertheless he came up with a quick solution. Just when she'd passed another great peak in her thrashings and was frantically pushing down her panties, young Paul jumped up with his prick waving in front of her face and said, "Do it to me now, do it to me!"
"Oh! Aunt Liz!" He was astonished at how quick she gobbled it up, and stunned at how good it felt for his prick to be inside her sucking mouth. "Oh, I never thought it would feel so good!" he said, and grasped her curly, bobbing head in his hands and humped his hips forward to drive his cock still deeper in her wetly sucking mouth.
Liz had had every intent of giving her nephew Paul a full course of hot wet pussy, but the introduction of his cock to her mouth had sidetracked that intent. Jesus, he was delicious! His steely hardness was delightful, his diminutive size wholly intriguing, but it was the subtle flavor of the boy's prick that had the veteran cocksucker's senses reeling. She slipped off the toilet seat to her knees on the floor to get more of him holding him round the waist as if he might try to get away, and purring loudly as she sucked him off from the tip of his drooling pecker to the hairless base of it. Not for years had she tasted a cock so sweet, so exciting, and she hugged him to her and dug her taloned fingers in his buttocks in an effort to share her excitement even more with her. Her pussy was still raging, on fire, wanting to burst through her encumbering panties, but nothing was more important now than devouring every part of this delicious little boy that she possibly could.
"Oh, Auntie Liz!!! Oh, Jeez!" he exclaimed, twitching and jerking all about in her embrace while sensation mounted upon spectacular sensation.
"Mmf! Gimme! Ah! More!" she replied, quitting his throbbing hard prick for the moment to bury her mouth in his loins, then ducking down her head to suck every bit of his balls in her mouth and swirl her hot tongue over their wrinkled sac.
"Wait! Stop!" he cried. "Stop or I'm gonna cum in your hair!"
"In my fucking mouth or not at all," she said, and captured his rigid pecker again, just as it gave its first mighty throb and spurt.
That first spurt of jism was so strong it went right down her throat. She smelled it in her sinuses more than she tasted it, but then there was the second one to savor fully as it shot and rolled across her tongue and palate, while the boy leaped and bounced and squealed and kept on cumming for her.
It tasted so good she felt like laughing, and this she did, drawing back her tousled head to catch another hot jet of jism in her mouth, then sucking in the whole length of his cock again to coax more out of it. He was cumming very good. She was getting almost as much pleasure out of it than when she'd been cumming, just seconds before, and she lusted to extend that pleasure for both of them. And she knew how.
Paul felt he might never stop cumming. Even through his wild, wild ecstasies he had the fleeting fear that her sucking mouth might drain him dry, or at least suck out several months' worth of jism from him before she'd had enough. It was getting almost painful, still wonderful beyond words, but almost painful, when he was suddenly whirled about and pushed over the sink to experience something wholly unbelievable.
"NO! YOU SHOULDN'T DO THAT! WAIT-T-T-T-T!!!" he cried, but his tight little buns were already widely spread and the incredibly huge intrusion of something that had to be her tongue was up his ass. He struggled without any strength in his body, pleading for her to stop, and he kept cumming and cumming and cumming, even though no more jism was spurting from his prick.
Liz laughed at his protests and went on rimming him. His asshole was almost as sweet as his prick had been, and at this point in the game, far more receptive to her tongueings, despite his protests.
Her blood-red claws held his jerking buttocks wide open, stretching his pink asshole to the utmost for her pink pointed tongue. The base of his prick was against the edge of the sink, and Liz could easily reach his hot little nuts in their tight little sac, kissing and sucking them before she went back to his inspirationally tight asshole. A fever heat was upon her. She held him right where he was, bent double over the sink, while she gnawed on the tender flesh of his ass and sucked on his empty nuts and stuck her tongue up his spasming butthole. Never in her life had she been so needful of having a cock between her legs instead of a pussy, but then as she redoubled her efforts to butt-fuck him with her tongue, his squeals and wails reached a crescendo and he went suddenly limp over the sink.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Too much," Liz muttered, panting. "I gave him too much too soon, damn me." She kissed his darling little butt again and, draped over the sink, he didn't stir. She heaved a sigh, rested for a few moments while cursing herself for getting carried away, then rose heavily to her feet to make the best of things.
Supported by her strong arm around his waist, Paul was stumbled along to his room muttering, "I'm sorry. Can't walk good."
"Never mind. Everything's fine." Liz laid him down on his bed and he fell to snoring right away. Hands on hips, she looked down on his naked, supine form and shook her head. His little prick was still partially hard. He was angelically beautiful and he was still so extremely innocent that she had to wonder if she was doing the right thing. Perhaps he'd be better off without her and her lusty appetites and her very worldly ways. Perhaps she should quit at this point and rely on the resiliency of youth to make him think of what had happened so far between them as some sort of wet dream. On the other hand, there was no sense at all in denying him his education and in denying herself the pleasure of his sexual tutelage. Liz smiled and kissed him, gave his prick a little suck, and went to her baggage to soothe her tensed nerves.
Liz slept on the convertible sofa in the living room, but her luggage was in her sister Helen's bedroom. It was a nice bedroom, frilly and lacy, more girlish than womanly. There was a ruffle-trimmed vanity table with a mirror in one comer of the room, well stocked with the beauty aids that Helen used at her successful little beauty salon, and with a white fur-covered bench before it. Flowered wallpaper and heavy brocade drapes and prints of English countryside paintings lined the walls. The queen-sized bed was covered with a flowered spread and furnished with nightstands, a reading lamp, and an array of gothic romance novels in the shelved headboard. The ornate chest of drawers which Liz had previously investigated contained lingerie and clothing that was just as comfortably sterile as the bedroom was. All in all, it was a very far cry from the bedrooms Liz had occupied, from sleazy motels to sybaritic apartments. It reflected Helen's whole, orderly way of life, and Liz found it to be both comical and irritating. She stripped off her wet panties and went straight to her bags.
There were two of them, a large, handsome suitcase she'd bought for the trip with nearly the last of her funds, and a somewhat battered, somewhat oversized attache' case. She took a key from her purse, and with shaking hands unlocked the attache' case to take from it her battery-operated vibrator-dildo, white plastic, ten inches long. She held its tapered end against her lips as she crouched on the pink shag rug, twisted the control knob and smiled at the comforting, purring buzz of the device which had given her and others such pleasures and satisfactions.
Still squatting there, she kissed it and briefly sucked its smoothly tapered end, ran it through the warm hollows of her throat and on down over her tits to rekindle the flames that had been burning so brightly in the bathroom. It didn't take long at all. By the time she reached her navel with it, her pussy was drooling for it, almost screaming for it, and now she spread her matted black hair and her luxuriantly fleshy cunt-lips and slid it far up in her vagina.
"Ah-h-h-h-h." She clamped down hard on it with well exercised cuntal muscles and watched with an interest that had never failed her yet as her shapely hand pushed it in and out of her twat. "Mm-m-m-m-m," she purred, head swimming with delight, further warmed by the sure knowledge that this was one thing from her attache' case of tricks that had never failed her. "Uh! Uh! Uh!" she grunted, up on her widespread knees, tits bouncing and buttocks jerking forward to meet the good stiff thrusts of her dildo, already cumming almost as well as she could with a man. After her morning of instruction with her teenaged nephew, it took a whole series of orgasm to tranquilize her, and by the time she felt she'd gotten real satisfaction, Liz had rolled all about on the bedroom floor, fucking herself with her dildo till her hair was a rat's nest and her body was bathed in sweat and her breath was coming in ragged pants. Then she stretched luxuriously on the floor, enjoying those little aftershocks of orgasm still being brought on by the faithfully buzzing vibrator. She felt warm and full and pleasantly sleepy when she rose at last from the floor and withdrew the dildo from her well-pleased cunt. She carefully cleaned it in Helen's bathroom and locked it away in her attache' case, then enjoyed a cool, refreshing shower with plenty of scented soap.
She sat before Helen's vanity mirror, frankly admiring her naked beauty, as she brushed out her lustrous black curls. There wasn't a gray hair among them, and this she attributed to her active and open sex life. Though she was fifteen pounds overweight, her figure was magnificent and her complexion so flawless that she could easily pass for ten years younger than she was. All in all Liz was quite content with her physical self, though not so content with her current financial status, and this was the primary reason she was staying with the younger sister whom she hadn't seen in years and with whom she hadn't gotten on well for even longer years. So far it seemed as if Liz had made the right decision in coming here, and as she helped herself to Helen's perfumes and cosmetics she made more plans for ensuring that her stay would be an interesting one and, if she chose, a longer one. She applied a last dab of lipstick and blew herself a kiss in the mirror as she ran appreciative hands over her lightly powdered voluptuousness, then rose to dress herself appropriately for the afternoon.
Helen was due back from her shop at about twelve-thirty. She was only working half days during her sister's two week visit. It was just after, noon when Liz entered Paul's room with a tray of sandwiches and milk to find him exactly as she'd left him, sleeping the sleep of youthful exhaustion. She set down the tray on his nightstand, sat beside him on the bed, and had to shake him quite hard to wake him up.
Paul was disoriented on awakening, then smitten with awe by the fresh, stunning beauty by his side, right on his bed with him. His Aunt Liz's smile was calmly radiant, her features clear and smooth, her raven hair lustrously flowing. She had on a lime green halter, heavily filled with proud tits, skimpy enough to show much of the deep cleavage between them, and a matching skirt. The skirt was of the wraparound variety. Though it came to mid-thigh, her position on his bed had opened it so that he could see that she was wearing bright pink panties under it. Sandals and bright plastic jewelry completed her ensemble. She was strikingly lovely in every respect, but his gaze was drawn to those lovely big tits he'd touched and even kissed, and although he was confused and still plagued with guilt, his pecker was waking up along with him. He reached for the covers to hide his quickly growing erection and his smiling aunt took the bedspread from his hand and said, "No need to be so modest. Not with me. I brought you some sandwiches. You'd better eat and dress. Your mother will be home soon."
The boy sat up in bed to wolf down what she'd brought him. His hard white prick was embarrassingly upright, its pink head thrusting up through its foreskin as if trying to share in the view that Paul's eyes could not stop looking at. And as Paul ate, Liz chatted on, saying, "What fun we had this morning, and it's all our little secret. Your mother just wouldn't understand, poor dear. She's a terrifically good-looking woman, beautiful really if she'd only wear some more attractive clothes. She could have any man she wanted and enjoy him too, if only she'd get over her silly inhibitions and let herself go as I do. And as you'll be doing I'm sure. She's got lovely titties, don't you think, Paul? And those long, slim legs . . . mmm, how I'd love to feel them wrapped around me if I was a man. Nice slim hips and a gorgeous round fanny, even though she does try to keep it from switching and wiggling when she walks. With a figure like hers, those girdles she wears are ridiculous. I've always thought she had lovely eyes, and her nose was so pretty and those lips of hers, ah-h-h-h, just made to be kissed, or to be wrapped all around a pretty little cock like this one," she said, and took Paul's in her hand.
"She wouldn't do anything like that," he angrily said, and tried to pull away from her, rather half-heartedly.
She stroked him to calmness and said, "Yes, that's part of her problem and it's a shame. Past thirty years old and she still hadn't learned the pleasures of sex. I know. We talked about it over a few too many glasses of wine on Saturday night. But it's not too late for her. Oh, no. All she needs is some handsome young man who knows something about sex and who isn't afraid to show her what he knows in spite of how much she might protest. She'd be grateful to him forever," said Liz, and paused to let Paul mull this over.
Then she sighed and said, "But she'll probably go on just as she is, without any real joy in life, growing old before her time and then living out her days in a rest home while she wonders how it was that life seemed to pass her by."
She had Paul to the point of tears, better than she'd expected, and she let him linger there for a while by himself before slipping an arm about him and saying, "Darling, don't feel badly. I'm just being pessimistic. I'm sure some passionate young man who loves Helen will come along one of these days and show her all she's missing in life.
"That's the sound of her car, isn't it? Look, here she comes in the drive way," said Liz, and leaned across him as both looked out his curtained bedroom window. "Sit still," she said, soothing him there with a hand on his prick and another on his bare back. "She's got groceries to get out. Mmm, look at the backs of her legs. Just perfect in her panty-hose. I'm glad she wears short skirts. If I were a man I'd start at her ankles arid nibble my way clear up those lovely long legs, so smooth and soft, till I was kissing that sweet little fanny and nuzzling all around in her blonde-haired twat and making her feel so good she'd be squirming all around and begging for more and cumming like .. ."
"UR-R-R-R-R-GGH!" said Paul, as his aunt's hand started pumping yet another series of jism-jets from his prick, and as his eyes devoured the wholly erotic contours of his mother's stiff but gracefully slim body. For those few moments Paul had his face up under his mother's skirt, gnawing and nibbling and sucking and kissing her private parts even as his aunt had done to him, and for those few moments he could almost hear and feel the reactions from the woman he loved and feared most in the whole world. But when the moments passed, and when his mother was striding toward the house with her double armload of groceries, Paul came awake to reality, to the oozing prick between his legs and the jism-spattered covers of his bed and to his aunt drawing away from him, and he yelped and grabbed at his clothes and darted toward the bathroom.
Helen was still fumbling with the groceries and the key to the front door when Liz opened it for her. It had been a busy morning at her shop and she hadn't really wanted to leave it in honor of a sister with a not-too-honorable reputation, but she managed a smiling thank you and let Liz take some of the groceries. Together they put them away, with Liz prattling about what an idle, relaxing morning she'd had. This added to Helen's irritation as much as the heat of the day did, and her voice was snappish as she said, "Where's Paul? What's he been doing all morning?"
"He took off early. Said something about going swimming. I think he's in the John now."
Helen wanted to tell Liz they had bathrooms in her house, not Johns, but instead she said, "PAUL!"
He came scampering in, freshly showered, wearing only his cut-offs, looking anxious. He hung poised by the refrigerator while his mother glared at him for a long moment before she said, "So you went swimming, did you, instead of mowing the lawn as I told you. Isn't that nice. I worked hard all morning, to feed you, to clothe you, to put a roof over our heads and to provide for your education, and you went swimming. How very nice."
Paul squirmed miserably and Liz said, "Helen, it's a hot day and Paul's on vacation from school and I'm sure the lawn will wait for another ..."
"Please, Liz," said Helen, directing her glare at her older sister for a moment. "You have your life and I have mine, and Paul is a part of my life until he is a legal adult. I would appreciate your not interfering with his upbringing." She turned back to her son, stiff-backed, stern-faced. "Get me a coat hanger," she said.
"Aw, Mom!"
"Obey me!" she spat, and he screwed up his face and left the room.
"Helen!" said Liz. "You don't mean to whip him? ! ?"
"I am raising my child as I see fit. Please do not interfere."
"But..."
"Silence! Children need punishment! Paul needs this!"
Helen's blue eyes were blazing and there were wide circles of red on her cheeks. She was tensed, almost shaking, and Liz prudently backed away from the confrontation. Best to observe now, and act later, she decided.
Paul came back, flushed and dejected, bearing a wooden coat hanger. He handed it to his haughtily glaring mother, gave his aunt a look of stoic determination, and turned his back on the pair of them. He placed his hands on his knees and hung his head. By then Helen was so wrought up that her teeth chattered, and she nervously flicked the coat hanger against her nyloned leg. "Since you obviously don't approve of corporal punishment," she said to Liz, "perhaps you'd better leave us alone."
Liz came closer to her younger sister, slipped an arm about her long slim waist and kissed her cheek. She could almost smell the excitement emanating from Helen as she said, "I've never raised a boy. I'd like to see how it's done. Ill not interfere."
Helen's teeth chattered again, and she said, "First I've got to see that he hasn't tried to trick me again." She placed a twitchy hand on Paul's upturned rump and felt of it. "Once before a spanking he padded his rear end with newspaper. He really got it when I found out what he. was up to."
Liz had never been turned on by spankings before, but she was ever ready to learn something new. Still with her hand on Helen's rigid waist, she placed her other hand on Paul's ass. It felt even hotter than when she'd been kissing it. "Doesn't feel like anything's under his shorts this time. How many swats do you usually give him?"
"For this offense, half a dozen," said Helen, obviously very eager to begin.
Liz felt of the bare flesh below the frayed leg holes of his shorts and said, "I suppose it would really hurt if you caught him down here with that hanger."
Helen licked lips that were very dry, staring hard at her son, and said, "Yes. I suppose it would."
"Remember how Dad used to have us take our panties down to spank us? I sure do," said Liz, and ran her hand lower on her sister, and felt Helen's buttocks twitch even through her girdle.
Helen was quite flushed and breathing hard. She chewed on her full underlip and nodded her lovely head while Paul remained motionless under the exploratory touchings of the two women's hands on his butt. "Paul," she said, and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Paul, unbutton your shorts and drop them to your knees."
"Aw, Mom!"
"Obey me!" she cried, going up on her toes in her excitement, and Liz slipped both arms about her in comforting fashion and kissed her hot cheek and felt the hard pounding in her chest.
A grim-lipped Paul dropped his pants. A keenly interested Liz saw that, sure enough, he had a terrific little hard-on which his mother apparently didn't even see. Helen's staring eyes were focused on his clean white rump, and as he assumed the position with his hands on his knees again, she roughly elbowed Liz aside and swung the wooden coat hanger whack, whack, whack, whack, whack, crack!
It broke in two on the last vicious blow, and
Helen stood there panting hard and looking furiously at the remnant in her hand while six livid red stripes formed across Paul's bottom. Just as suddenly, Helen looked as if she might cry, and once again her elder sister hugged her and comforted her and said, "I'm sure you did the right thing, dear. Now it's over with, and I'm sure Paul will be a good boy." Helen smelled distinctly of orgasm, and her slender body had already grown perceptibly softer to the touch. She'd dropped the coat hanger and now Liz took her limp hand and placed it on Paul's reddened bottom, saying, "These welts will go away, but he won't forget this spanking. D'you think you should rub a little cold cream on his fanny, dear?"
Liz heard Helen stifle a moan and felt her body begin to tense again. The blonde said, "I think I'd better ... take a shower and change." and she abruptly left them, walking with stiff little steps toward her bedroom.
"Ill be right along," Liz called after her, and turned Paul about and kissed his tear-streaked cheeks, held them in her hands and voraciously sucked on his hot, soft mouth.
She hugged him to her trembling body, murmuring, "That was awful what she did to you. You deserve much better things than that," she said, and slipped a stiff-nippled tit from her halter and fed it to his open, eager mouth. "Poor baby, getting his darling little fanny warmed for just forgetting to mow the lawn. She's the one who ought to be spanked. Poor Paul, I feel so sorry for you. And you've got another nasty old boner, but at least your Auntie Liz can do something about that."
Liz's big nipple came from his mouth with an audible pop. She dropped to her knees and had his cock in her mouth before he could utter a protest. She sucked on it greedily, with no semblance of finesse, and her hands kneaded deeply at his sore buttocks while he stood swaying over her, moaning and almost sobbing, then clamping both hands on her head and pumping his hot little cock into her sucking mouth while his cock pumped marvelously copious quantities of his delectable young jism down her gullet. It was still oozing semen as she rose and released him, letting him fall back against the refrigerator door. "You'd better cut that grass now," she said, and hurried after her sister.
Liz was too late. Helen's trail was clearly marked by her low-heeled white shoes in the hall, her nylon uniform dress just inside her bedroom door, her panty-hose, her bra, and then her rubberized girdle just outside the closed bathroom door. That door was locked. Liz tried it as she said, "Anything I can help you with, dear?"
"No-no!" came Helen's anxious voice. Liz picked up the girdle and smelled of its crotch, heavy with the odor of orgasm, and said, "Paul's just fine now. My, you certainly did a job n that plump little ass of his. You really striped it with crimson, didn't you?"
"Uh-huh."
"I think a spanking on his bare butt does him much more good than one through his pants. Don't you?"
"Uh . .. uh .. . uh-huh."
"It probably woudn't hurt to spank him like at every day. But perhaps you should take his ants down for him. Make him stand there with his naked bottom sticking out while you lecture him on what he's done wrong. Use your hand to show him exactly where you're going to raise those red welts."
"Uh-huh! Uh-huh!"
"Then lay it on him! Use a coat hanger till it breaks, or a leather thong or a strap, or one of your hairbrushes or a belt that you've been wearing that day, something that'll really let him know who's the boss around here. Right?"
"Uh-h-h-h-h-h-h!!!" said Helen from behind the locked door, then all was silence except for her wearily heavy breathing.
Liz shook her smiling head and flopped down on Helen's bed. She took a paperback novel from the shelf and leafed through it, chuckling at the trash that her kinky sister read. The sound of the shower was soon heard, and Liz lay there idly looking at the books till at last Helen appeared again. Her eyes were downcast and she looked shame-faced.
She had a towel turbanned around her hair and was clad in a short white terrycloth robe. She looked far more fetching than she realized, and Liz bounded up from the bed and intercepted her at the chest of drawers.
"Sounds as if Paul's busy doing his chores. Come, dear. Let me fix you a cold drink and well relax in the back yard and watch that he does a good job."
"I've got to get dressed," Helen murmured, and made a feeble effort to push the strong hand from her hip.
"Nonsense. You look just fine. You've had a hard day. Now relax for a while. Let me take care of you. Big sister knows best," said Liz. Though Helen still protested, she was easy to lead along now. Trembling tense in the kitchen, her body was now as limp as soft butter under the skimpy robe as Liz bustled her down the hall, chatting away, fondly patting the ripe young mounds of her bottom. She leaned limply against the sink while Liz prepared to make a pair of Screwdrivers, but she was firm in saying she would have no vodka in her orange juice. Liz had a bit in hers, then guided her sister out on the shaded back porch and deposited her in one of the two deck chairs there. She settled down in the chair close beside her sister and laid a casual hand on her leg, which Helen just as casually removed.
Paul was working hard in the long, hot back yard. A shower of cut grass cascaded over his bare feet as he pushed the old reel type mower through the grass. Liz sipped her drink and parted her shapely legs till she was sure he had a good view of the pink crotch of her panties, and remarked, "That hedge needs clipping, too."
Head high, it ran all around the perimeter of the back yard. Helen said, "It takes him two or three days to do that. I'll have him start it in the morning."
"And if he forgets," said Liz, and brought her hand down hard on Helen's thigh, "BANG, he'll have the reddest bottom on the block." Helen gave a start, then stirred restively as Liz moved her hand over her thigh, saying, "It wouldn't do him a bit of harm to pull down his pants and spank his bare bottom. Once a day, Helen, just like you said." Helen gulped her orange juice, staring ahead of her at her sweating, near-nude son, as Liz's hand roved at will over her slender silken thigh while she said, "A daily spanking might sting him now, but he'd be grateful later on. Unbutton his pants and pull them right down to his ankles. Tell him, show him exactly where you're going to apply the punishment, and then lay it on."
As she said this last, Liz squeezed her sister's thigh deeply. Helen uttered a low moan, stirred in her chair till Liz was almost certain the laboring Paul had a dim view of her naked blonde twat, and drained her glass dry. Liz's hand brushed Helen's pubic hair as she rose, saying, "I'll refill that for you, dear."
When she returned with vodka-laced orange juice, Helen was just as she'd left her, staring as if hypnotized by Paul's denim-covered buttocks as he pushed the old mower down the yard. She sipped automatically as Liz stood behind her, massaging her neck and shoulders, talking in a low voice about how their father had disciplined them and of how Paul might benefit from similar treatment. Her hands slipped lower and lower on Liz's chest as her chatter and the clatter of the lawn mower continued. As Paul pushed the mower toward them, his gaze flitted from that shadowy spot between his mother's legs up to his aunt's seductively smiling face. Pushing it away from them, Liz's hands slipped lower still, till they were cupping a pair of soft, generously full tits. Helen was breathing deeply, head leaned back against Liz's loins, sipping her drink in silence. Paul was almost done with the lawn when she'd finished that drink.
"Another?" said Liz.
"Huh? No, I. . . What I need is a nap," and rose unsteadily, with her robe falling open to reveal a delightfully girlish body behind those very womanly tits. Liz blew a kiss to Paul, slipped a hand round her sister's waist, and said, "I'll tuck you in."
Helen collapsed on her bed immediately, and Liz drew the drapes till the room was quite dim, then sat down on the bed and spoke softly, as if to herself, as she roved a hand over Helen's lightly perspiring knee. "Asleep already. I'd forgotten how beautiful she was. Gorgeous tan, even in this light. I'll just pull this robe aside and, yes, she wears a two-piece swim suit when she sunbathes. Her breasts and her loins seem to glow in the dark from her tan lines. Soft, soft hair on her pussy. It feels so nice, and she looks so good. I recall how we used to play with each other in bed when we were little girls. She's not a little girl now, not with tits like these, so full and round and pointy. Hmm. She must be having a nice dream for her nipples to be this hard. I wonder if her pussy's just a little bit wet. Hmm. . . ."
Helen stirred and sprawled out more on the bed. Liz had a good view of her slender body now, pale breasts flattened by their weight against her tanned torso, pale triangle at her loins disappearing down under that silky covering of blonde hair. "I hope she doesn't wake up for a while," Liz whispered, very lightly fondling her breasts. "She's far too beautiful for me to keep my hands to myself. Mm-m-m-m," she purred, moving her hand down over Helen's flat, palpitating tummy. "Nice and wet," she murmured, as her middle finger pushed softly through blonde hair to slip between two creamy slick cunt-lips. She giggled and said, "Her dream must be getting good now," and she started pulling and pushing at erectile and well-defined clitoris.
"Nng-g-g-g. Oh-h-h-h." Soon Helen was moaning and actively thrashing in her poorly feigned sleep, while Liz continued to titter and talk and expertly manipulate her clitoris. She was tempted to go on and on, just to see how much her sister could take, but the clatter of the lawn mower outside still beckoned and so she brought Helen to a fine, churning orgasm, kissed her sweaty brow, and left her with a sleepy smile on her face. She licked her fingers on the way down the hall, found the taste of her sister's pussy not at all unpalatable, and hurried on toward her nephew.
He was just finishing up, and he looked at her in a surly fashion as she paused in the shade of the porch to finish her drink. She laughed and said, "You look as if you could use a cool shower."
He just glared at her and turned about to cut another swath through the lawn. He went clear to the end of the yard and back, still glaring, and when he was close to her again, Liz said, "Don't you want to come here in the shade and rest with me for a moment?"
"I heard what you said. You told Mom she oughta spank me again tomorrow," he said, and wheeled about for another, next to last, swath through the grass. Liz waited till he was turning around again, then loosened the tie on her halter. His eyes bulged out at the bare bulging of her tits, and he broke into a run behind the old lawn mower. It terminated with him standing before her in the shade, grinning avariciously at her tits as his little hands reached out for them.
She pushed them away, saying, "You're far too sweaty and dirty to touch my pretties. I'll need to wash you first. Fetch the hose."
She stepped down from the porch, into the sun, as he hastily brought it. Water flooded around their bare feet as she calmly removed her halter, eliciting a gratifying sigh of longing from him. She unsnapped and unwrapped her skirt, and that joined her halter on the porch, leaving her clad in only bright pink panties, full cut, tightly fitting over the sweeping curves of her hips and the full mounds of her buttocks and the prominent bulge of her twat. Then as he gazed at her, panting, sighing, cut-offs a bulge, she took the hose from his hand and directed its steady stream over his head.
Paul spluttered and spit as the water poured over him in torrents, but his gaze never left the vast nudity before him. He raised wet, tentative hands between them, and when she smiled and nodded he filled those hands with the full weighty warmth of her tits. She only gave him a little time to play with them, though, before she said, "Take off those shorts, Paul."
He looked all around the back yard, eyes wide. "Here?"
She nodded again and popped the first button.
"You're not going to spank me again, are you?" said he, as he lowered his shorts to reveal his prick in its seemingly perennial state of hardness and stood naked before her.
"Not now. You'll be in for some more spankings, I'm afraid, but in the end I'm sure it will all work out for the best for all of us. Now turn around and bend over with your legs wide apart."
Again he did as he was told, but now he winced and grunted as the big stream of water was played up under his balls and through the crack of his ass. He grunted again when she tickled his tight little asshole with her finger, then arched back for more of it. "You're learning fast," she said, and knelt behind him and pushed her pointed tongue half an inch up his asshole, rimmed it around to make him sigh and squirm like a happy puppy. He tasted so fresh and clean that she wanted to go on--and on and on--but there'd be plenty of time for that later, when his sexual education was completed.
She turned him around and gave his stiff prick a nice licking, took its hard length in her mouth briefly, looked up and said, "You don't mind having your cock sucked now, do you?"
"I love it!" he said, fidgeting all around in his happy excitement, and trying to push it into her mouth again.
But Liz rose to her feet, handed him the hose, and said, "Now you wash me."
She turned her back on him, pushed the seat of her pink panties down over her expansive buttocks, and bent forward at the waist. "Just look at that!" the wholly admiring boy murmured, and ran a shaking wet hand over the big white roundness so conveniently presented to him. Liz swayed and shifted it for him, and said, "You're supposed to wash it, silly, not play with it."
She squealed and giggled when the cold water flushed up against her deeply creviced asshole, and she reached back with both hands to spread her cheeks farther as the flood of water carried With it nice little orgasmic tinglings. She was half hoping he'd show some initiative and get down there with his tongue, but no, at this point in his education Paul still needed to be led every step of the way.
Liz straightened up and snugged up her saturated panties.... He was positively beaming with his happy excitement as she faced him, smiling, took the hose from his hand and put its gushing mouth down inside the front panel of her panties. He laughed at the way the water made the thin fabric ripple and how it flowed out through the crotchband and leg holes, and Liz wriggled with the chilly good sensations it produced. Then, "Thirsty, dear?" she said.
He stared down at where the water flowed. His smile faded, but he said, "Uh-huh."
"Then drink," she said, and with a hand on his shoulder, helped him to his knees before her, where he turned up his handsome young face and let the water flow through her panties and into his open mouth. Liz smiled and scratched his wet head. Still he drank, as she loosened her bladder and let her piss mingle with the water running over his mouth and chin.
When her bladder was empty, she cast the hose aside, and, easily holding him where he was, hooked a finger in the sodden crotchband and pulled it aside. "Touch my clit with your ton ... Oh! Oh, that's lovely!" she said, for already he had his sharply probing tongue where she wanted it and was lashing her chilled clitoris into full warmth and excitement.
"Honey, that feels so good!" she said, pulling the crotchband farther and thrusting her fresh washed cunt at him, as he sucked and tongued with only the slightest sign of apprehension in his upturned eyes. "Just a little more and you can fuck me. Oh, ah-h-h-h-h," she sighed, strong buttocks and thighs jerking, lingering drops of pee flowing, while Liz experienced a delicious oral orgasm there in the sunny back yard of her sister's house.
When she pulled him to his feet Paul was breathless with excitement. He asked through her enveloping kisses, "Can I fuck you now? Can I really?"
"Of course you can, darling," said Liz, and taking his upright prick in hand, she guided its resiliency hard knob up against her crotchband.
"Oh-h-h-h. Oh-h-h-h, it won't go inside that way," said Paul, jabbing up at her in a delightfully effective manner. "Isn't it supposed to go inside?"
"Doesn't it feel good this way?" said she, taking a good pounding on her clitoris as he shoved his prick up at her, time and again, sliding his naked loins against her silky smooth thighs and rubbing his panting chest against her naked tits.
"Yes! Oh-h-h-h-h, it's wonderful! I... I love you so!"
"Yes, and you love your mother too," said Liz, cupping his cheeks in her hands and kissing him, while he. held her big ass cheeks in his hands and humped frenziedly at her. "And didn't she look lovely sitting in that chair while you were mowing the lawn? You could see her pussy, couldn't you?"
"Oh-h-h-h-h. Oh-h-h-h-h," he moaned, face twisting in anguish that he felt through the giddy sensations of pushing prick against pussy.
"Beautiful woman, your mother," Liz persisted. "Beautiful tits. Beautiful cunt. I touched it when I tucked her in bed, and it was so nice and wet and warm and..."
"No!" he cried, and half-heartedly tried to pull away, but her strong hands and her soft lips and pussy kept him there where he was, driving up at her with thrilling vigor.
"Yes I did, and she loved it. Mmm-m m m, how nice it would have been for her if you'd just dropped your lawn mower and crawled up on the back porch and put your head between her legs and sucked her nice warm cunt like you suck mine."
"No-o-o-o. Ple-e-e-ease," he groaned, fucking at her more raggedly now, but no less vigorously.
She laughed and kissed him and said, "And then gotten up on your knees and slipped that lovely cock of yours right up inside her tight, hot, wet cunt and pushed it in and pulled it out till your beautiful mother was cumming and cumming and cumming for you and you were squirting your good hot jism way up inside her twat while you man-handled her tits and kissed her pretty face and told her you were going to fuck her any time you wanted to, from then on, forever, FOREVER!"
"Aaaaaaa-a-a-agh!" he groaned, body shuddering and twisting and arching against hers, prick squirting heavily up at her thinly covered cunt, jism drooling down her big, heavy thighs. "Oh-h-h-h-h," he moaned, as she hugged him and kissed him and came with him, and told him how much his beautiful mother would appreciate his prick in her cunt once she got over the fears that still troubled her.
Liz went on a shopping trip by herself and cooked dinner that night. It was a sedate, almost formal family evening around the house, each one of the trio observing the other two with convert interest, and only Liz displaying a degree of cheerful confidence. They all went to bed early.
CHAPTER SIX
The smell of coffee wakened Liz in her living room bed and she sat up and stretched, feeling fully refreshed from a good night's sleep and knowing she looked as good as she felt. She called out a greeting toward the nearby kitchen, there was the sound of china falling to the floor, and Helen answered, "Oh, hi! Good morning."
"Any coffee in bed for a lady on vacation?" said I Liz.
"Sure. Just a minute. I just broke a cup."
Liz used the time to plump the pillows up behind her, to fluff out her sleep-tousled hair, and to artfully arrange one of the thin shoulder straps of her skimpy yellow nightie so that one shoulder and most of one tit was completely bare and free. She was smiling warmly as her sister approached J the bed, bearing two cups of coffee on a tray.
Though -Helen's face was made up in businesslike fashion, the cosmetics couldn't hide the dark circles under her eyes, and in her working uniform she looked tense and brittle enough to break at a sharp touch. Liz patted the bed in welcoming fashion beside her, and Helen sat down and gave a sharp start when Liz's hand moved on to warmly rest on her knee. Helen had to hold her coffee cup with both hands as she drank.
Liz said, "You look so nice this morning, so rested and ready for work. I'm sure you'll have a good day. Though an uncomfortable one, wearing a girdle," she said, and Helen almost spilled her coffee as Liz's hand slid up her nyloned leg to the tight rubber garment under her panty-hose.
"Don't!" said Helen, and tried to push her hand away.
"Silly, I just want to see what kind of girdle you wear," said Liz, fingering it, making her sister squirm and flush. "With such nice slim hips and such a pretty fanny, I don't understand why you bother with a girdle."
"It's ... more professional."
Liz sipped, fingered the thick undergarment, and said, "Have you thought about what you'll use to blister Paul's bottom this afternoon? A hairbrush or your open hand or a strap? Coat hangers break so easily."
Helen tensed, squirmed, and said, "It probably won't be necessary. I'm sure he'll... do his work today."
"A paddle would really smart," said Liz, squeezing Helen's quivering tight butt.
"He promised he'd cut the hedge today. Promised faithfully."
"I think a belt would do him the most good. A nice, thin, leather belt," said Liz, and made Helen jump by swatting her girdled bottom from under her uniform skirt.
"I've got to go," Helen blurted, leaping up, spilling her coffee. "Can't be late. Have a good day. See you later. Have a good day."
She slammed out of the house. Liz smiled and stretched and lit a cigarette, and before she'd taken her second drag on it, Paul showed his grinning face in the hallway. He was wearing white cotton pajamas whose bottoms bulged with his early morning erection as he came toward his aunt, hungry gaze fixed on her tits. "Hi, Paul," said his aunt, and straightened up her shoulder strap as he approached her bed. "Sleep well?"
"Great!" he said, already reaching out for her as he sat on her bed.
She held him off with a staying hand, and said, "I feel like a Bloody Mary to start the day. Make me one. Here's how."
He listened, openly coveting her tits, all of her, while she told him the proportions. His prick was as hard as ever as he trudged to the kitchen. It would stay that way for a while for Helen to properly carry out her plans for the morning.
The drink he fixed her wasn't bad. He gobbled donuts and drank milk and mooned over her voluptuous beauty while she sipped and chatted aimlessly, it seemed, but leading him ever closer to their activities for the morning hours of another good day of her vacation. She needed that drink to calm herself lest she get carried away by the things to come. As she drank it she teased Paul unmercifully, pecking his hot cheeks with kisses, touching his tensed body with tickling fingers, tittering girlishly. She had him in a fine state by the time she finished her drink.
Liz made sure he caught a glimpse of her hairy twat as she threw back the covers and got out of bed. Resplendent in her long, diaphanous nightie, she allowed him to follow her swaying hips as she strolled down the hall toward the bathroom. He leaned on the doorjamb, looking sick with guilty desire, while she hiked up her nightie and sat on the toilet and noisily peed, reaching out as she did so to draw his stiff prick from his pajamas and tickle her fingers over its wetted pink end. He moved closer in hopes of having his prick sucked, but Liz rose and flushed the toilet, kissed him and entered the stall shower.
Paul sat on the toilet and watched through the frosted glass while his aunt removed her long nightie and draped it over the shower door. He was just about to reach for a fistful of aching hard prick when she called out, "Fetch me my attache' case, will you? And no playing with yourself while I'm showering."
He trudged out and returned with the heavy thing. By then he was so horny he'd have settled for one good clear look at her, but he kept faith that better than that would come if he was patient and he drove himself even crazier speculating just what might be in store for him on that day. She thanked him for the case, set it down on the edge of the tub and opened it, and his thinly covered ass twitched when she withdrew a heavy hair brush.
She bade him sit down on the toilet. He did so, bent over a pecker that would surely never go soft again, and there he watched each tiny jiggling of her feminine softness while she brushed out her glossy black hair. She applied lipstick and perfume, further enhancing her beauty. He drank in the closeness of her as she hung a hot water bottle from her case on a hook on the door, and he took vague notice when she smeared the black device attached to the water bag with a gob of Vaseline from a large jar. He took greater interest when she filled the hot water bottle with water and added a few drops of pungent liquid from another bottle taken from her case.
"Uh ... what's that?" he said.
She smiled down on him. "For your enema, darling."
"My ... 'enema'?" he said. "What's an 'enema', anyway?"
She drew him up off the toilet seat. "You'll find out soon enough," she said, and took him in her arms and kissed him, hugged him, touched the beautiful youthful body through the thin white pajamas. He was kissing her back with eager ardor trying to touch her everywhere at once, trembling all over as his stiff little prick pushed hard agains her commodious cunt. And now Liz was trembling too, as she clasped this eager young innocence in her arms, and felt him so very ready to take whatever steps she directed toward the giddy world of forbidden pleasures that only she could show him. A motherly instinct in her made her want to hold him there and protect him, but the lusts were deeper in her and she eased him away from her and sat down on the toilet as if it were a throne.
"Now lie down across my lap," she said, smiling and patting that inviting place, thinly draped in transparent yellow nylon.
Giggling nervously, he lay down, sayin "What're you gonna do?"
She pulled down the seat of his pajamas, baring those delicious little white buns, and said, "Give you your enema."
He tensed, then relaxed, as she smeared Vaselin on the small, sweet, puckered ring of his anus. He grinned up at her from over his shoulder, but his grin faded when she picked up the long black plastic syringe, all covered with white grease, and he said, "Hey, what're you gonna do with THAT?"
"I told you; it's for your enema," she said, and she had the small, bulbous knob of it inside his sphincter before he could do a thing.
Prick driving against soft flesh, he began to struggle, crying, "Hey, not up my BUTT! What're you DOIN'? Auntie Liz, don't put that thing in ME! UH! OH-H-H-H-H-H! Ah-h-h-h-h," he moaned, as deeply tickling pleasure replaced the initial hard pain of the insertion of the stiff black wand.
"Feel nice?" said Liz, working it in and out, stroking his buttocks and back.
"Uh-h-h-h-h. Nn-n-n-n. Yeh. Not as nice as ... as when you . . . kiss me there, but . . . m-m-m-m-m ... feels nice."
"And how does this feel?" she purred, and loosened the clip, and let the warm water flow.
In moments he was breathing faster, trying to look around and saying in a panicked voice, "What're you doing? You're filling me up! Auntie Liz, I'm gonna ... oh! Oh! OH!"
His belly was already drum-tight, and he could feel still more of it flowing into him. There was nothing he could do about it. His aunt's powerful hands were holding him down across her lap, but what held him down even more was the feeling of weak paralysis brought on by the deep water injection.
When at last it stopped he was panting, straining, close to weeping in his efforts and in his humiliation. "Now hold it in," said his aunt, and as the greased syringe slowly withdrawn, he gasped loudly and could not hold back the tears. "Get up now, dear," he heard her say. "I can't, he moaned. "I can't even move!"
"Up!" she said, and pushed him off her lap, made him stand on his own two feet, while he gasped and whined with effort in holding in that terrible alien pressure in his gut.
"Sit here now, dear, and let it go," said the woman he'd loved, and regally arose from the toilet. He waddled over, collapsed upon it, and it all flooded out in a rush that brought with it all his copious tears.
"Again," he heard her say through his sobbings, and against all his blubbering protests, he was laid across her lap for the second time, filled up to bursting with the cruelly hard syringe, and made to stand up in the close quarters of the bathroom.
This time she brushed against him as she rose to make room for him. He hardly noticed it in his eagerness to take her place on the pot. And this time when it all flowed out of him he could sigh through his tears in the wonderful relief he felt to be rid of the liquid that came out in an almost sensuous torrent. He felt weary, lightheaded, when the woman towering at his side said, "Once again, Paulie."
He almost wished, this time, that there was more of it. Just to show her he could take it. It entered him more slowly this time, and it followed a certainly deliberate insertion and re-insertion of the syringe, that part of the whole operation that had been easiest to get used to. He had smiled dreamily when she'd been doing that, harkening back to when she'd used her tongue that way, and that had helped make the flood of liquid easier to bear. The stink of crap was absent from the whole operation. That would have been just too much to handle. All he could smell was the additive she'd used in the water bag, and her perfume, and her. He writhed very softly on her lap as she filled him up and made comforting sounds, existing in an almost pleasant state of delirium now, and not even surprised that his prick was still hard against her soft, soft flesh.
"The bag's empty, darling," she softly said, stroking him under his pajamas with those wonderful, soft hands of hers. "You took a lot this time. Can you get up by yourself?"
"Sure," he grunted, the first intelligible word he'd uttered since it had started.
She got up with him, and standing there in the bathroom she took his face in her hands and kissed every inch of it and told him what a good boy he was and let him feel of her lovely tits through her thin nightie. They felt as full as his belly as he stood there basking in her praise, holding it all in for her.
"You're so pretty. And such a sexy little devil," she murmured, lancing a tongue in his ear running electrifying hands over him.
"You're the one that's... pretty," he panted back through the perfumed silk of her hair.
"You'd be prettier still without these on," she said, and pulled the drawstring of his pajamas, and down they fell to his ankles.
She turned him to face the full length mirror on the bathroom door, and in his light-headed state of euphoria, he didn't know which was sexier to look at, the beautiful smiling woman at his side, so thinly clad, or her hand gliding over his bloated belly and stiffly upright prick.
He gazed on, wholly fascinated, while the wonderful woman unbuttoned his pajama top and peeled it off to leave him naked as the day he was born and trembling with the pleasures of her closeness. His belly bulged over his hairless loins, making him look somehow childish, but he knew he had to be a man to have a woman like that interested in him.
She laughed and said, "Even your nipples are hard, darling." She plucked at them with her fingers and nails, and he could feel the sensations rippling clear down to his toes. She bent and kissed his nipples, nipped the hard buds with her teeth while her silken hair flowed over his distended belly, and though nothing spurted from his fevered cock, he felt sure he was cumming. She was trembling, too, as she said, "Now undress me, Paul.
I want to be all naked and sexy with you."
She gave him little help in the removal of her nightie. He wanted none. Though his full belly and his tensed buttocks made his movements heavy and slow, he grasped the hem of her nightie and lifted it up, baring more and more of her vast naked beauty, and drew it on up over her arms till at last they were together naked, as it should be. And then she stood before the mirror, laughing as joyfully as he, as he hugged her to his naked body and felt of her everywhere he chose and ran his lips and cheeks over the warm velvet of her full, ripe curves.
Now at last he had access to her pussy. The triangle of hair there was dark and thick but wonderfully soft, and he couldn't imagine why he'd been afraid of it before. He crouched to look at it closer as he ran his hand over the big bulge of softness, then under the kind guidance of her hands got down on one knee to see it closer still. He saw the fleshy lips that he'd blindly kissed and he felt them with his fingers while she made purring, chuckling sounds high above him and ran strong fingers through his hair. He turned his head and kissed through the deep fur and she went up on her toes andmurmured, "Mm-m-m-m," and planted her feet more widely apart on the tile floor. Thus encouraged, he slipped his arms about her heavy round hips, ran his hands over her quivering, wonderfully plump buttocks, and pushed his tongue through the creamy slick lips till he'd found her love bump, then pursed his lips and sucked on it warmly.
"Darling!" she said, and pushed her hips forward to give him more of herself. "This was to be your time, but oh!, that feels so good! Just suck my clit a little more, honey. Oh! Oh, that feels marvelous! Paulie, oh my Paulie," she moaned, thrilling him to the core, then thrilling him more deeply still as she held strong fingers in his hair and pushed her big hot clit against his sucking mouth heavy, sensuous rhythm.
She was cumming, he knew she was, and he had done it for her. His fingers dug deeper into her lush, firm buttocks and he sucked harder on her clit, getting wetter now and throbbing and still tasting of her shower, and he held all the stuff inside him while she let it all go. She wasn't even holding onto his head any more. Her heavily curved body was arched forward at him and in constant sensuous motion as she ran caressing hands up over her big soft belly and her ripely jiggling tits. Smiling in a wonderfully wicked way, she pinched and plucked at nipples that were standing out like thumbs, then stretched her lovely arms high over her head and moaned and purred, "Oh-h-h-h-h, God, you make me feel good all over. Ah-h-h, you're such a good boy with your hungry little mouth sucking on my cunt and your hard little prick itching to fuck me and your hot little hands all over my big ... fat... butt. Nn-n-h-h-h! Wonderful cum! Just the thing to get me started on a lovely long day of making you feel... good ... all... over! UNH!" she exclaimed, and hugged his head hard against her, mashed his mouth and teeth hard against her thrusting clit, and hauled him to his feet and hugged him and kissed him hard on the mouth while her glorious big body was still rippling and writhing with orgasms.
Her embrace nearly forced the liquid out of his gut, but he somehow held it in. Now that she was doing things for him, he felt he could do anything for her. Every bit of his body felt as sensitized as the throbbing head of his dick as she laughed and eased him away from her naked softness and sat herself down on the toilet again. She wriggled her big bottom comfortably there, spread her knees wide and began to pee, and at the sound of her tinkling water he almost lost the stuff inside him. She reached out as she peed and cupped his drawn-up balls, making him gasp, and she drew him forward by them to touch her smiling lips to his prickhead and to blow on it with her warm breath and taste it with her pink tongue tip while he panted and trembled with steeply mounting excitement. He moaned when she sucked his dick in her mouth because he knew he couldn't hold in the water while she was sitting there pissing and at the same time sucking the jism out of his nuts. "Please! Please! Ple-e-e-ease!" he moaned, quite delirious now as she sucked him without letup and rolled his balls in her hand and caressed his buttocks that were already strained beyond endurance. If she'd given him the slightest indication that he could let it go, it would have rushed out of him all at once, but she just kept sucking his cock, laving it with her tongue, and she kept on till he'd groaned from deep in his gut at the painfully sweet feelings of his jism rushing out of him in giant spurts to be sucked up by the beautiful black-haired woman on the throne. "Ah-h-h-h-h! Oh-h-h-h!" His keening wails were similar to hers from moments before, and as his prick gushed and spurted in her mouth he relived all the beauty of her orgasm. It went on for a long, marvelous time, and he was still cumming when she took her sucking lips from his prick and had him take her place on the toilet. "Let it go now," she murmured, and as she kissed him with sticky lips his prick started jerking again and the heavy flow of liquid felt every bit as good as cumming.
Paul was exhausted when she pulled him up from the pot. He could hardly move. She had to help hold him up as she toweled him dry, laughing gaily and kissing him warmly and promising more, much more. He didn't know if he could take any more, but he knew he had no choice but to try. He'd try till he died if that's what it took to be naked with her like this.
"Let's go to bed, darling," she said then. "Just the three of us. You and me and an old friend."
He looked stupidly around, "somebody else?"
"Mm-hm." From her attache' case she took what looked like a very modem flashlight. She took Paul by the arm and led him toward his mother's big bed. Just the sight of it made him want to collapse and sleep for hours, but he knew that wasn't to be.
She had him sit down on it with his knees drawn up and parted, with his little prick gone soft at last and drooped over his empty nuts. She was on her knees in front of him, smiling so warmly and looking so magnificent in her nudity that he felt all the more light-headed and giddy. "See how this works?" she said, and twisted the end of her flashlight thing and it made a barely audible buzzing sound.
"It's called a personal massager," she said, and touched its other, tapered end to one of his nipples, making him give a start at the tickling sensation it produced and making him look down in wonder at it.
"Feels good, no?" she said, laughing at his reactions as she drew patterns over his chest and belly with it, heavy tits swaying with her movements.
"Actually it's an electric dildo," she said, and now she transferred its point to her own body, running it over her nipples while she cupped and hefted her big tits before his devouring eyes.
"They're made to be used by lonely women who don't have any men around. But if you have a little imagination you don't have to be lonely to use it. And they can be used on men, too. Watch."
Paul had started to close his legs. She pushed them open again and he held them that way while he watched her use the electric dildo on herself. She gave her tits a thorough massage with it, and her facial expressions alone were enough to tell him how good it felt to her, though that was visible enough by the turgid state of her nipples. It had them sticking out like thumbs and it had him licking his lips by the time she moved it on down to her belly button.
"Oooo-o-o. I can feel it all the way inside me," she said, erect on her knees, undulating her torso like a belly dancer, and caressing herself with her free hand while she probed with the dildo in her navel. "But here's where it's best," she said in a throaty voice, and parting the fleshy lips of her hairy cunt with her fingers, she ran the buzzing thing through the wet pink trench of her cunt and sighed deeply.
"Ah-h-h-h-h," she said, and as Paul goggled Liz eased it into her fuck-hole, more and more of it, till just a few inches were left in her hand and her hips were undulating as her belly had before. "Almost as good as fucking," she purred, working it in and out of her big cunt, pushing it back and forth over the thrusting bud of her clitoris. "Better in a way," she continued, " 'cause it never goes soft."
Paul glanced self-consciously down at his prick, embarrassed now that it wasn't hard for her. She looked too, reached forward and gave it a few pulls, then leaned back again to concentrate on her own pleasures as she said, "Play with it. Jerk yourself off. See if you can get it up for me."
He began to rapidly flog it, amazed at himself. His jerking off was the biggest, most guilty aspect of his life, and here he was, doing it right in front of his aunt. He beat it and beat it, but nothing happened, not even with the help of the lewdly beautiful scene before him as his aunt fucked herself with the dildo and postured with inspirationally erotic movements.
"Um-m-m-m. I could sure cum now," said she, "but I'm saving that for my handsome young boy friend. Here. You take it for a while. See if it helps you," she said, and shivered warmly as she withdrew the gleaming wet dildo from between the pouting lips of her cunt.
"Hold your legs open wide, honey." He did, and she placed the tapered knob of it against his tight little asshole, and he blushed beet-red as she pushed an inch of it inside him. She laughed and leaned back, letting the thing rest on the bedspread while its end buzzed and tickled maddeningly inside him. "You look as though you don't like it, Paul."
"It feels so weird," he said, wanting to yank it out of him and throw it away.
"You'll get used to it. You'll like it. Push more of it into you," she said, keeping her fires going at a nice, simmering rate with her fingers pulling softly at her clit.
"It's too darned big," he said, glaring down at the thing that looked so alien there, nestled under his flaccid prick and balls, buzzing away at a fiendishly steady pace.
With fists on her hips, she said, "Do I have to do everything for you?"
"O-kay!" he said, and reached down and grabbed the darned thing, winced as he pushed half of it in him, then gritted his teeth and pushed more of it in through the pain.
She settled down again, removed the threat of leaving him, and said, "Now work it in and out, like I did. It's lubricated for you."
"It's so darned ... unh ... big and hard and ... unh ... long!" said Paul, with growing resentment. "Haven't I done it enough now?"
"Obviously not," she said, and reached down and gave his limp pecker a pull. "Keep going."
He gritted his teeth and kept working it in and out. The pain was gone now, but not the entirely weird and alien feeling of having something that big inside him, throbbing with electric life. It didn't hurt at all, but neither did it feel as good as she'd obviously expected it to and still he was horribly embarrassed by its presence in him right there where she could watch. If only he was alone with it, it might even feel good in a strange way, but there was no way it could be allowed to excite him while she watched. And she could see more of its entry now because his prick had swelled up and risen a little.
"Ooo, you're getting a hard-on," she said, and clapped her hands, then clasped him to her bosom as she stood up on her knees before him.
It was just exactly what he needed. With his face against the tits he loved, she couldn't watch him butt-fuck himself with the darned thing, and with both his arms about her loveliness she couldn't expect him to keep on doing it to himself. He hugged and kissed her with great ardor, hoping to postpone all the dildoing that he could by so doing. She helped him in this by cooing and purring, feeding him one of her tits and stooping to kiss him deeply from time to time. It was terrific. In spite of his previous exhaustion, he was getting excited again, but now the darned dildo was starting to itch quite badly.
"Wait a minute," he murmured, and reached down between his legs and moved it a little, "Sighed at how much better it felt, and resumed his loving attention to her tits.
She took one of his hands from her wonderfully big ass and placed it on her hairy wet cunt, and without being prompted he began to manipulate her clit as she'd been doing. "Nice," she said, drawing back and smiling at him, cupping his cheeks in her hand and swapping tongues with him as their lips grazed together. His prick was good and hard, and now he found that he could alter the position of the buzzing dildo in his butt by squirming his ass on the bed while they kissed and kissed and he toyed with her cunt while it got wetter and wetter.
"Whew," she said, backing off at last and brushing back her tousled hair. "You've got me so hot I'm about to cum again. You're a wonderful lover, or you will be when I'm done with you. And how're you doing with my dildo? I see our friend has you nice and hard again," she said, and reached down and pulled his hard prick with one hand, worked the dildo deeply in and out of him with the other.
For an instant he felt like cumming. The longer movement of the thing reached all those nerve endings that needed reaching, making him sigh and moan and writhe his hips forward. "You do it," she said, and wholly unabashed now, he reached down while both of them closely watched, and he pushed the lovely buzzing thing in and out of his butt-hole with delicious ease and delightful sensation.
"I knew you'd like it, darling," said she, and kissed his fevered brow while he went right on fucking himself with it. "You always do like what I show you, eventually."
"I sure do! Wow!" he said, finding new ways for himself to work that thing in and out of him.
"Know what I'd like?" she said, doing her belly-dance before him again, nice and slow, with ample hand movements.
"Huh-uh," said he, staring, fucking himself. "I'd like to have somebody suck my cunt."
"And I'd like to do it. I'd like to ... to suck your cunt, Auntie Liz."
"Mm-m-m." She ran a hand over it, pushed fingers inside that squelched audibly. "I'm all wet. Too wet. I'd better go take a shower first."
"I'd like to .. ." He had to swallow hard, though his mouth was dry as bone. "I'd like to suck on it now, Auntie Liz, Please."
She shrugged, went on stroking it, and said, "Well, here it is. All hot and waiting for you."
She stayed right there on her widespread knees while Paul scrambled around on the bed, holding his dildo in its place, getting down on his back and inching under her till he was looking right straight up at her gorgeous big cunt. Its heat and its steam and its scent radiated down on him as he licked his lips and reached up with trembling hands to hold her big hips and guide him down on his upturned face.
"Mm-m-m. Nice." He could hear her through her cunt, it seemed, because his ears were covered up by her silken soft thighs, and he sucked and kissed and tongued with ardorous abandon as she settled her twat more lovingly on his face. His face was already wet from chin to brow and he went right on sucking and kissing and stabbing with his tongue for new places to thrill her half as much as he was being thrilled by the butt-fucking she was giving him. Yes, she was pushing and pulling the dildo for him, leaving his hands free to roam over the great naked bulk hovering over him. Now and then her whole cunt tensed and quivered and seemed to melt, flooding his face with more of her rich, sweet juices, letting him know she was cumming for him and making him want to make her cum again. She was sliding it back and forth across his face, and now she settled it with her clit right at his lips and he sucked and tongued with all his ardor, near exploding from the dildo in his butt, while he heard her say, "Lovely, lovely cunt-sucker. You can't get enough of it. One cunt isn't enough for you. You need at least two. Mm-m-m. I'll bet your mother's cunt tastes good. I might find out for myself this afternoon. I want you to suck her cunt soon, darling, as soon as I think you're ready for it. She's so beautiful, and she needs it so bad. But suck mine now. Tha-a-a-at's right. Oh, shit. I'm heading toward a really big cum. Mmm, and your prick looks too good to pass up. This is called sixty-nine, darling. Keep sucking Auntie's twat, and I'll show you." Sixty-nine. The name was perfectly logical to him when she showed him the position, but then all logic fled as the full feeling of her mouth hotly sucking on his dick came through to him.
She had them on their sides now and she'd accommodatingly lifted one heavy thigh up so that he could get more of her cunt while she sucked him on toward completion. He was drenched, filled by her wonderful juices, and then he was exploding as he never had before, jism pouring forth, pushed by the vibrating dildo still moving in his butt, pulled by the most wonderful mouth in the world. They quivered and shook together, writhing and straining and rolling on the bed, mouths locked to crotches and cumming insanely, till he could no longer fight the sweeping ecstasies that loomed to overwhelm him and he sagged into a world of sweet half-consciousness.
He was so tired that he was more of a hindrance than a help as his solicitous aunt helped him to his room, got him into his cut-offs, and tucked him into his bed for a much needed nap.
CHAPTER SEVEN
While Paul slept, Liz showered and freshened her make-up and perfume and got out the purchases she'd made the day before. From these she took the pale green panty and bra set and put it on. She smiled at the way the lingerie fit her. The panties were high rising on her full white hips, with the leg holes almost reaching up to the elastic waistband, the front panel a deep vee that very clearly defined her bulging crotch, and the seat barely covering the deep groove between the big soft mounds of her buttocks. They were made of very thin nylon and completely unadorned with any lace, as was the matching brassiere. This was as skimpy as the panties, with shoulder and back straps that were very narrow and tiny triangles of cups that fairly overflowed with the generous bounty of her tits. Her dark nipples and pubic hair clearly showed through the pale green and the dark hairs of her pubes were not all contained by the crotchband of her new panties. She thought she looked extremely alluring, especially when she'd donned the high, platform sandals she'd bought. She also thought her widowed sister would be home early from work, and she was correct in both these things.
Helen nearly burst through the front door, eyes wide, looking anxious. "Did Paul cut the . ..?" She stopped in the entryway, eyes staring at her sister's very abbreviated costume, fingers fidgeting at the new belt around her long waist. "My, you look . .. nice and cool," she said.
"It's such a warm day," said Liz, and slipped an arm about her sister's waist to lead her along, "come. I've got a cold drink all ready for you in the kitchen."
She had gin and orange juice in a pitcher in the refrigerator. Helen was led along, smiling nervously, very tense in the crook of Liz's arm. While Liz poured the drinks, Helen looked out the back window and Liz clearly saw her girdled buttocks tremble as she squeezed her shapely legs together. There was a look of relief, though, on her face when she turned about to accept her drink.
"Tsk. He didn't cut the hedge," she said. "He's usually such a good boy. I don't know what's come over him lately. You must think I'm an awful mother to have a disobedient son like that."
Liz patted her sister's hip and said, "I think you were awful if you didn't do something about it. He needs a good, hard spanking," she said, fingering the thin white leather circling Helen's waist, "that's what he needs."
Helen nodded solemnly, drank deeply of her drink, and said, "Wh-where is he?"
"Sleeping, the lazy little wretch. I think he was masturbating this morning, Helen. Honestly, I do."
"No!"
' Yes! He locked himself in his bathroom for a long, long time. Then when he came out and I reminded him about the hedge he just grinned in a very insolent way and told me he felt like taking a nap. So he did."
"Masturbating!? Oh, my God!" said Helen, pacing around, finishing her drink and holding out her glass for a refill. "He's too young for that. I mean, no boy should ever do that, but Paul's too young to ... to even be able to try! Liz, what are we going to do?"
"First thing is calm you down, cool you off, and then we'll take care of that son of yours. Come to the bedroom, darling, and get out of those hot clothes and this awful girdle. It wouldn't do any good to discipline Paul when you're all hot and bothered."
Helen came along with her drink. She was shivering in a way that was delightful to her sister as she was led along, and the shiverings approached convulsion dimensions when she paused at Paul's open door and both mature women gazed in at the recumbent form of the boy, looking so sweet and pure and defenseless as he slept on his back, wearing nothing at all but his frayed denim shorts. Helen was taking deep, deep breaths as she was guided along to her bedroom. There Liz took charge in earnest.
"You need a shower first. I'll help you undress. No arguments, little sister. Off with your pretty new belt. Off with this ugly old uniform. Now the shoes. My, you have pretty legs. And now I'll just take down these panty-hose. Practical things, I suppose, but not near so attractive as nylon stockings. Just sip your drink, dear, and I'll help you after your hard days work," sincerely enjoying the disrobing of the very shapely and very excited blonde.
"I'll f-f-f-finish in the bathroom," said Helen.
"Nonsense," said Liz, and got up from her knees to have a go at the snaps of Helen's bra, and Helen's shoulders slumped and she sighed in resignation as off it came.
Liz's fingers moved over the red lines left from the garment, and she said, "My, you have lovely breasts for having borne a child. Did you nurse Paul?"
Helen nodded, beads of sweat on her upper lip, and she caught her underlip in her teeth and closed her eyes when Liz chuckled and said, "I bet he'd like to nurse on these beauties now. Boys are like that. He might even have been thinking about that when he was in there masturbating this morning. Now let's get this girdle off and get you into the shower."
They worked on this tight garment together, with Liz kneeling before Helen and tugging at the elasticized nylon, with Helen pushing down at it with clumsy hands. Liz kept chattering and laughing, erasing red lines on tanned flesh as they appeared, while her younger sister trembled and panted and looked absolutely miserable.
Liz made her stand there while she admired her blushing nudity, the slender hips and the matted blonde pubic hair, the long narrow waist and the tits that were longer, more pendant than hers, but tipped with equally hard nipples. Still she wouldn't let her alone, pushing her on into the bathroom, then sitting down on the toilet while Helen showered. She insisted on drying Helen off, going over every part of her nude body with the soft towel while Helen stood there limply. She seemed in a trance as Liz powdered her and perfumed her, brushed out her hair and then sat her down on the toilet and told her to pee.
Helen's eyes were dull and her hands were lifeless at her sides as she urinated, gazing straight ahead at the big loins of the woman who stood before her in wisps of nylon.
Liz smiled down on her, stroked her head, bent and kissed her cheek and murmured, "Come along to the bed now, darling. I've a surprise for you."
Helen looked at her beseechingly, nodded weakly, and murmured, "Yes, Liz."
The slender, big-busted blonde stood swaying by the foot of the bed while Liz dressed her in a yellow panty-bra outfit that was cut exactly the same as her lime green lingerie. As she put the yellow panties on her, she quite deliberately felt of Helen's pussylips, found them swollen and tumescent and creamy slick with fragrant wetness, and Helen's only reaction was to breathe faster and part her legs a bit. Liz had a very hot little sister on her hands, perhaps too hot for what she had in mind for her.
She rose and swatted Helen hard on the ass, and Helen gasped and jumped a foot. She swatted her again and she moaned and arched out her lovely backside, and Liz slipped an arm about her limp but trembling waist, kissed her warmly on the lips, and said, "Let's go take care of that bad boy of yours now. Eh?"
A smile twitched the corners of Helen's mouth. She brushed her carmined lips against Liz's and murmured, "Yes, Liz. Let's take good care of him." Her steps were mincing, her inner thighs brushing closely together as she led the way to Paul's bedroom, thin white belt in hand, slapping rhythmically against her leg.
SPLAT! Paul was awakened by the sharp sting of leather across his bare belly and sat bolt upright in bed to face the two women who stood there, fists on hips, stunningly attired in the briefest of pastel panties and bras. His mother was in yellow, scowling, white leather strap dangling from her hip, while his aunt was smirking beside her, and either one alone was more than enough to make his pecker spring to life despite the smarting of his whipped belly.
"Up!" his mother curtly commanded, "and into your mother's bedroom," added his aunt, and at once Paul was scampering along with the two obviously vengeful women at his heels. Still addled by his deep sleep, he had to face them at the foot of the bed, and his mother leaned forward at him and almost spat in his face as she said, "Why didn't you cut that hedge?"
"I... I forgot!" he said, looking to Liz for help that was not yet forthcoming.
"You forgot!?" said his mother, and made him jump with a switch of the belt across his leg. "And what were you doing instead? ! ?"
"N-nothing," he said, when there was still no help from his aunt.
"Down with those pants," said his mother. "I'll try to help you remember before you get out there and do your work."
He gritted his teeth, opened his shorts, and pushed them down, baring a flaming erection which he tried to conceal with a bent-over stance. He was as confused as he was aroused, but he knew his aunt would come to his rescue, but then she added to his confusion by stepping forward and taking his hot hard prick in her cool soft hand.
"Just look at this, Helen," she said, as Paul tried to cringe back from them and as his mother gasped at what she saw. "You see?" said his aunt. "He's certainly old enough to be playing with himself."
His mother's eyes blazed as she spluttered, "You were playing with yourself, jerking off, MASTURBATING when you should have been doing your chores. You were, weren't you? Answer me! I KNOW you were!"
"I didn't! I wasn't!" he cried, again looking to Liz for help, with again none forthcoming.
"It's very hard," said Liz. "Just feel of it, Helen. I'm sure it's hard enough for him to be able to have an ejaculation. Feel of it if you don't believe me. It's all right. After all, he's your son."
Helen shuddered visibly, then darted a hand down to grasp Paul's prick along with Liz.
Paul thought he'd surely die, and he didn't much care if he did--if this could last a few minutes longer. He'd already been practically crawling out of his skin with a weird mixture of fear and embarrassment and yearning and sexual excitement and now it felt as if every hair on his body was standing on end and his prick and balls were the size of a giant's. He was up on his toes, fists clenched at his sides, mouth wide open and eyes goggling down at the two hands on his bare dick, one of them soft and exciting, the other one trembling and even more exciting.
"D'you think it's hard enough to cum, Helen?" said Liz, brushing her nude warmth against the naked boy.
"It's... VERY hard," said Helen, brushing against him too as another flow of weakness passed through her legs.
"I imagine he was stroking it like this," said Liz, slowly demonstrating. "Pulling it and pushing it and drawing back the foreskin like this, while he had fantasies of heaven-knows-whom."
"YES," said Helen, "YES!" appalled at the steely hardness of her son's penis, quite unable to take her hand from it though nor to stop her hand from moving as her sister's was moving.
"D'you think it can cum?" said Liz. "D'you think he can?"
"I don't know! I just don't know!" said Helen, quite oblivious of her son's straining distress, near oblivious of everything but that small, very hard prick in her hand. Even when he uttered a mortal groan it hardly registered to her, and only when he cried, "Mama!" and began squirting his semen all over her thigh did she realize where she was and what was happening. It was far too late to stop anything by then, most of all the enormous flood of emotions sweeping through her, and all she could do was surrender to these emotions and embrace her son's convulsing body with all her might and feel his jism spurting hotly and copiously against her groin to run in agonizingly sweet rivulets down her bare legs. "Poor baby, poor baby," she crooned close to weeping for some unaccountable reason, while he clung to her and openly wept, moaning, "I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. I'm sorry.''
Liz let them cling and moan and weep and shiver together for a time before she hissed, "Helen! Look! He's cum ALL OVER you!"
"Wh-what?" said Helen, still locked in a shuddering embrace with her son, cum still tracing a tortuous sweet path down her leg. "He ... he's ejaculated, hasn't he?"
"I'm sorry, Mom," said Paul, trying to regain her arms as she very shakily drew away from him. "You certainly should be sorry," said Liz. "The very idea, masturbating all day in the bathroom and then cumming all over your poor mother. I'm very disappointed in you, Paul. Helen, don't you think you should rinse that off?"
"What?" said Helen, looking down at the pearly white gobbers oozing down her tanned leg. "Wash it? Oh, yes. Yes, of course," she said, and tottered toward her bathroom on high heels and stiff legs.
Liz winked at Paul and kissed him, embraced the stunned boy and nipped his ear with her teeth and said, "Mmm, I bet that felt good, cumming in your mother's arms. There'll be more of that, more and better, as long as you're a good boy and do as your auntie wants you to do. Hold still now," she said, and quickly knelt and sucked on his prick while it was still hard, savoring every morsel of the fecund juices that had spewed so forcefully from his body. She was on her feet again, licking her lipsticked lips, when Helen returned, trying hard to look the strict disciplinarian. She failed miserably, first because of her scanty attire, second because of the way her knees buckled at the sight of that hard white prick.
But she pulled herself together, and she picked up her new white belt and she said to her son, "Bend over and grab your ankles. You're going to get a whipping like you never had before. First for failing to cut that hedge, second for playing with yourself all morning, and third ... third for. .. for..."
SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT!!! The belt slashed through the air with a fury, impacting unerringly on the pure white buttocks of the gasping boy. But gasps were all he uttered as his mother flailed the cruel leather with a demonic force that startled even the hardened Liz. Helen's blonde hair was flying and her usually placid features were twisted into a mask of fervid purpose as she whipped and whipped that boy, SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT, laying it on till her tanned body was sweating and his white ass was striped everywhere with red. And then all at once she wilted and the belt dropped from her hand, her eyelids drooped and she said to her sister, "Enough. He's had enough. I'm thirsty. Tired. I want to lie down. Just. .. lie . .. down."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Helen was all limp and buttery soft and sleepy as Liz led her back to the kitchen, poured her another glass of orange juice and gin, and led her into the back yard. Liz had spread a blanket there, half in sun, half in shade, and Helen sighed and yawned as she was stretched out in the sun and told that she should relax, take things easy for a while.
Liz then returned to the house, to the bedroom, where she found Paul still in the bedroom, ruefully examining his blistered backside in the full length mirror on the door. She kissed him and hugged him, and though his prick was hard, he looked at her resentfully when she held him at arm's length and spoke to him. "That was quite a spanking you got. It was all for a good cause, though. You'll see."
"It hurt like heck!" he angrily said. "And it was YOUR fault I. .."
"Don't be such a baby," she said, shaking him. "It was in the best interests of all of us. You'll see that I'm right. Now come on in the back yard and get your work done." She kissed him again and he was merely pouting now as he headed down the hall with his aunt right behind him, carrying two more of her recent purchases in her hand.
He balked at the back door, saying, "I can't go out there naked!"
"Of course you can," said Liz. "No one's going to see you but me and your mother. And we're practically naked ourselves. Look out the window. Doesn't she look lovely lying there in the sun. Wouldn't you like to be ... closer to her?"
"She sure did whip me hard," he said, gingerly rubbing his sore bottom as he peered out through the kitchen curtains.
"Yes," said Liz, brushing her softness against his lean back. "And wouldn't you like to have some revenge for that soon? That can be yours if you trust me. Come, dear. Out you go. It will all be better soon. Your Auntie Liz will see to that."
She found his modesty to be charming as he timorously crept out on the back porch, and she had to prod him to continue on till they were on the blanket beside the dozing Helen. There Liz gave her sister an accidental kick to be sure she wouldn't sleep through the little show she'd planned for her.
Helen's eyelids were heavy, but they were open as her son obeyed her sister's command to lie down on his stomach on the blanket. Liz was kneeling on the other side of Paul and Helen had a clear view of her naked, beautifully youthful son and her voluptuously beautiful sister in her skimpy green panty-bra set. Helen was shocked at the striped redness of Paul's buttocks, yet wholly fascinated. It made her feel so uncomfortable that she continued to feign sleep while she watched and listened to them.
Liz opened a jar of cold cream and Paul flinched when she placed a large white dollop of it on his reddened butt. "Hold still. This will cool you off," said Liz, and Helen's thinly covered bottom got all gooseflesh as she watched the feminine hand rub the cream into the masculine buttocks. It glistened there, and Liz placed another dollop on his ass and left it as she smeared more of it on his back and the backs of his legs.
"Doesn't that feel nice?" she said, tits jiggling perilously as she bent over his supine form. "It's good suntan lotion, too, and you may as well get a tan while you're doing your work. Your poor red fanny is what needs it most, though. Spread your legs wide, honey, and I'll rub the rest of it in."
Paul's foot touched Helen's as he spread his legs. It was like getting an electric shock. The dollop of cold cream on his ass looked like a surrealistic iceberg, quickly melting as Liz moved it over his buttocks and into the crack between them.
He gave a little start and said, "Auntie Liz, what're you.... ?"
"Hush, dear," she purred, "or you'll wake your mother, and she's so tired from her hard day's work. I want to get some on your testicles so they won't get sunburned, and here, here on your little bum-hole."
Paul was squirming and clutching at the blanket and touching Helen repeatedly with his foot. She knew exactly what Liz was doing, was appalled by it, and totally frustrated in not being able to sit up and watch every detail of it.
"Oh, Aunt Liz! Please! Oh, it feels so... so .. ."
Liz just chuckled and went right on. Heavens, she must be pushing two or three fingers in clear to the knuckle from the looks of things and from the way Paul was moaning and panting. Just the thought of it made Helen's prim asshole cringe and twitch and open and close, and despite her every effort she couldn't stop those feelings from spreading down to her twat. She longed to scratch herself there, very hard, but all she could do was lie there motionless, looking and listening.
"Roll over, honey," Liz said at last, and Helen was frankly staring as her son shifted his position on the blanket close beside her, arching his slim young body and making the slender shaft of his splendid young prick wave and thrust in the air. It was incredibly beautiful! She'd never thought her husband's penis particularly attractive, but this perfectly erect piece of flesh at her side was as moving as a great piece of art. As Liz's hands worked all around it, Helen raptly gazed at the sturdy white shaft wholesomely capped with a pink knob, glistening wet, quite helpless to stop the throbbing in her pussy that was turning her panty's crotchband into a sodden mass. She longed to get up and go to her bathroom and masturbate yet couldn't dream of leaving the closeness of that bare prick, and Liz solved her dilemma for her.
"There," she said, without even having touched Paul's prick! "You'll get a nice tan now while you do your work. Get up and put this on."
"A... jockstrap?" said Paul, rising to his feet before his kneeling aunt.
"It's all you'll need. Only your mother and I will be here to see you. Step into the straps, Paul."
Still watching, shocked, Helen followed the course of the thin white elastic straps up Paul's gleaming hairless legs. Looking up between his legs, she saw his tight pink nuts disappear into the webbed pouch, and when he turned she saw the hard bulge of his prick clearly outlined under the taut waistband. He seemed embarrassed to wear it, and Liz tried to put him at his ease, saying how much more comfortable it would be than his shorts and patting his legs until at last he set out for the hedge, with the pink-striped mounds of his firm, boyish buttocks on clear display between the straps of white. A slap on her bottom startled Helen to the verge of a small orgasm.
"Have a nice nap, dear?" said Liz. "I've put our Paul to work. How do you think he looks in his bikini?"
"It's one of those . .. athletic supporters," said Helen, up on her elbows to watch Paul's every movement as he bent and picked up the hedge clippers and moved on to the hedge.
"A jockstrap," said Liz. "I think he looks cute in it. I think that's all he should be allowed to wear around the house when he's been bad. That way he can't sneak off and get into trouble with his friends. What do you think?"
"Uh-huh," Helen murmured, staring at the beautiful male animal who was her son, slowly turning into twitching jelly from the small, constant movements of the hand on her thinly covered buttocks.
"And wearing only that," Liz went on, "if we felt like spanking him there'd be no need to take his pants down. There'd be no danger of his having an accident all over your legs as he did in the kitchen just now. I think it's the perfect costume for him around the house. Don't you?"
Helen nodded, staring at the boy whose hard-on ...
[section missing from original]
... of her clitoris against the earth, while the hand on her bottom seemed to encourage her to slip deeper into her erotic reverie.
Liz nestled closer, sometimes fondling her buttocks through the thin yellow panties, sometime slipping her hand inside their seat, always talking softly about the near nude boy laboring there so close to them. The sweat was running off him, saturating his jock's web and showing that his hard-on persisted. Helen was sweating too, fidgetting increasingly, squirming her stiff nipples and clit against the ground while the hand kept toying with her seething bottom. She felt her juices gush when the hand gripped the seat of her panties and pull the crotchband hard into her swollen slit.
"It's getting hot out here," said Liz. "And I'm getting hotter looking at Paul in his jockstrap. Why don't we go inside where it's cool, take a nice shower, and stretch out on your bed together. Hmm?"
"Yes," Helen croaked.
Liz had to help her up. Her body felt so heavy, from her tingling tits to her seething bottom. Her panties had been all drawn up into the crack of her ass. They stayed right there as she bent and picked up her empty glass, though the sound of the hedge clipper stopped, and she knew her son was staring at the big, white and tan exposure of her denuded bottom. Liz kissed her cheek as she straightened up and told her she'd be right along, and Helen's hips and torso moved in sinuous grace as she made her way to the house. She paused at the back door, watching as if from a dream, as her older sister spoke to her son, caressing low on his belly with her hand as she did, and there she waited till Liz was coming toward her, smiling, looking appreciatively down at her body.
"Here, let me take off your pretty undies for you," said Liz in the bathroom. "My, you've got a nice big pair of tits," she said, liberally feeling of them. It was all a dream. Nothing really mattered because it wasn't real, not even when Liz knelt and stripped off her panties, laughed and touched her sodden wet slit and said, "We'll have to do something about that. Into the shower with you."
The shower didn't help Helen's wet pussy. As fast as the water sluiced off her naked body, more of the rich secretions of her fully aroused sexuality drenched her quivering vulval lips. Her sister's close presence added to Helen's spiraling giddiness as warm wet flesh brushed together in the shower stall. Helen felt breathless and both sisters were giggling like a pair of girls as Liz tickled her and openly admired her feminine charms.
"You've beautiful breasts for having had Paul suck on them. Your tummy's as flat as a boy's. I love your slim hips. Your bottom is so round and firm." The flattery was going to Helen's head almost as much as the accompaning fondlings were affecting her senses and she glowed with a deep inner warmth when at last the cool shower water was turned off and Liz helped her out of the shower.
"I'm going to dry you off. No, I won't take no for an answer," said Liz, towel in hand and already rubbing briskly. Her black hair plastered down on her head gave her the resemblance of a Grecian boy, despite the big jiggling tits on her chest.
"I'll get you nice and dry," said Liz, and curled an arm about her hips and held a firm hand on her buttocks while she vigorously toweled Helen's pubic mound.
Henel gasped loudly. "Oh, Liz! D-Don't DO that!"
Liz laughed and held her closer. "We've got to get your hair all fluffed up."
"PLEASE, Liz! You're getting me all____"
Helen stopped, panting, dizzy with high desire.
"Getting you all hot?" said Liz, dropping the towel and massaging the prominent blonde-haired mound with her fingers, much more slowly, and with deliberate sensuality. "I'd know what to do about that if I were a boy," she said, and Helen shivered all over as Liz slipped her hand between her legs to slide the soft edge of it directly against her pulsing pussy lips. "I'd even know what to do about it if I were a girl," she said, and placed her crimsoned lips against the tufted flesh and blew warm, perfumed breath deep into Helen's churning gut.
"Liz, PLEASE! You're ... driving me out of my MIND!" Helen stammered. "I... I can't even think!"
"Then don't," said Liz through her nuzzling kisses. "Just come to bed with me. We'll make each other feel good, all over, just like we deserve to feel."
"I couldn't," Helen said, though she made no effort to move her steamy loins from Liz's lips.
"But I could," said Liz, and rose majestically to her feet to peck a kiss that smelled of pussy, and to propel her younger sister toward the bedroom with a slap on her fluttery bottom.
Helen protested all the way, but feebly and ineffectively. She was appalled at her sister's behavior, but much too far gone from alcohol and emotion to resist Liz's obvious intent. She hardly had the presence of mind to notice the movement in the shadows near the hall door before she was placed upon the bed,' and moved up till her back was against the bookshelves there. "What are you going to do?" she said, all distraught. "Liz, don't do something we'll both be sorry for."
"Sit up on this pillow, dear," said Liz. "Just put your pretty bottom on this and stop worrying."
Protesting, pleading all the way, Helen hiked up her hot, wet bottom for the insertion of the pillow and settled comfortably down on it with her knees up and her legs out, just as her shamefully licentious sister indicated. Again she thought she saw someone standing just outside her bedroom door, but again she was far too distraught to really notice. She couldn't yet believe what her sister was preparing to do, for she looked so utterly feminine and perfectly beautiful all stretched out on the bed, as naked as she, with her soft hands pushing Helen's softer thighs apart and with her delicate pink tongue licking her red-rouged lips.
"Ahh-h-h-! Oo-o-o-, no-o-o-o-o," Helen moaned, shaking her blonde head and grasping Liz's black hair in her fist as those lipsticked lips descended on her opened slit to suck on her clitoris in a fantastic, terribly wicked way. "Uh! Oh! Stop!" Helen panted, grimacing deeply from the deep ecstasy she was feeling and thrusting her wide open crotch forward at the lasciviously sucking mouth there. "I can't stand that," she moaned. "This is awful," she said, wirthing her ass on the pillow, humping forward with her gushing twat, praying that it was only her imagination that placed her son at the door with his hand moving inside the webbed pouch of his jockstrap.
"Feels nice, eh?" said Liz, and licked her smiling lips and stabbed her sister's clit with her tongue.
"No!" Helen cried, holding on with both hands now, thrashing her hips frantically, but being robbed of all coordination by that heavily sucking mouth on her repeatedly bursting cunt. "No! This is awful! Please stop!" she wailed, hard-tipped tits flopping now with the frenzied gyrations born from her wicked sister's lashing tongue and sucking lips.
And still she sucked on! Liz was idly kicking her heavily sculptured calves, pushing Helen's wet, exploding thighs wide apart, and slurping and sucking on her cunt like she was a lecherous male. Helen couldn't help but thrash about, knocking books from the shelves and wrapping her legs as well as her hands about Liz's bobbing head, lost in a world of delirious ecstasy through which she could still see her son grinning and pulling at his hidden pecker. Though she fought all the way, orgasm after lovely orgasm came bursting through her, surely making her appear to be as wanton and wicked as her sister to anyone real who might be watching. But of course it was all a dream, and when this realization came to her she laughed and babbled, "Yes, suck it! Oh, how I love to have my cunt sucked. Gaw-w-w-wd, I'm cumming so heavy and fast I don't know if I'm ever going to stop and I don't care! Uh-h-h-h, yes, again, AGAIN! Oh! OH!!! OH-H-H-H!!!" she cried, exploding all the way now, laughing and shouting and humping cunt hard against his mouth, letting it all go at once and on forever, until she felt herself being dragged bodily down the bed and felt Liz's cunty lips seeking hers.
"NO! STOP IT! DONT!" Helen screamed, fighting back effectively now, arching and twisting the heavy body off from between her legs, clawing and scratching at the laughing face before her.
Yes, laughing, her sister was laughing at her for having succumbed to too much alcohol and too much loneliness and Helen's fury freshened and she was able to quell the awful flood of feeling in her loins and fight until her dreadful sister had rolled away from her, chuckling, and wiping her mouth.
"Feel better, darling?" said Liz. "When you cum, you really make a meal of it."
"I didn't! I swear it!" Helen indignantly cried, brushing back her hair and doing her best to cover up so that Paul, in case he really had been peeping in, couldn't see any more of her and get an even more erroneous impression of his mother. "I was asleep when it started. Half drunk. I didn't know what was happening till it was. . . till it was happening! Liz, how could you?!?!!"
Liz shrugged. "It was easy. And now it'll be easy for you to sleep." She rolled off the bed and went her gracefully heavy way to the bathroom as Helen watched, shaking her head in despair for her, then peering at the dimly lit doorway again. No one there. No, Paid wouldn't dare peep at her. She yawned, scratched a pussy that hadn't felt that good in years, and she plumped up the deeply scented pillow and went fast asleep.
Helen had to be awakened for dinner. And drowsily helped back into the very becoming little yellow panties and bra that her solicitous sister had bought for her. The crotchband of her panties was crusted with her secretions but this was the only indication of anything untoward that might have happened in the afternoon. Liz was pleasant, blandly smiling as she served Helen a cocktail sherry and though Paul seemed to have a secret smirk about him he was politely deferential to his mother and aunt as he set the dinner table for three. Helen served steak and mushrooms, deliciously. After dinner the little family watched some television from widely separated parts of the living room and all in all it was an extremely enjoyable, quiet evening at home. Helen had never felt so relaxed. Her brief attire and Liz's equally scanty apparel hardly fazed her, and she rather enjoyed seeing her son clad in only the pure white jockstrap. Watching him had made her pussy nicely damp again and had softened the clinging crustiness of her pantie's crotchband.
She felt glowing and alive again when it was bedtime and her older sister was tucking her in, kissing her cheek and stroking her hair and murmuring, "Tomorrow's another day. We'll see, when you get home, if Paul has done his chores. If so, fine; if not. .. tomorrow is another fine day."
Helen smiled and kissed her sister's lips and squeezed her pussy under the covers and fell asleep again.
CHAPTER NINE
The clatter of dishes in the kitchen woke Liz in the morning and she was still stretching when Helen's smiling face appeared. "Sleep well, Liz? Mind if I sit with you while I drink my coffee?" She came right ahead while Liz was still yawning. She was clad as usual in her beautician uniform but she moved less stiffly than usual, and as she sat down on the bed Liz glimpsed the welt of a stocking under her skirt's hem.
Liz sighed and laid her hand on Helen's knee, and though Helen flinched, she didn't move away. Gazing up into her sister's bright, shining eyes, Liz moved her hand lazily around her skirted hip, patted a nice, soft bottom, and said, "No girdle this morning, eh?"
Helen flushed prettily and said, "Well, it was sort of uncomfortable and you suggested... ooo . .." she said, shivering so that her coffee cup rattled as Liz's hand returned to her knee, then slid up under her skirt. She set the coffee cup down and continued "... and you suggested I try going without and wearing hose instead of pantyhose for a change."
Liz flipped her skirt up, baring evenly tanned thighs between the taut welts of her stout brown hose and the well filled legholes of her plain pink panties. "Now, Liz," Helen cautioned in a tremulous voice, "we mustn't let anything happen like it did yesterday--if that happened at all. Honestly, I don't know what came over us there in my bedroom. I was so sleepy and drunky I hardly knew what was going on, and you were so ... so ... Liz, stop that!" she whispered, casting an anxious glance over her shoulder arid shifting her place on the bed till her legs were somewhat wider apart. "I don't know what to think about you any more. What if Paul comes out?"
"He's still asleep," said Liz, hand roving freely over Helen's nubile thighs and fingers plucking at warm pink nylon. "And if he's not, we'll turn him over these pretty knees of yours and turn his bottom the same color as your panties." Helen giggled and tittered at this, till Liz brought her up short by saying, "Get up and take these off."
"No!" she said, not indignantly enough to lose the bright flush in her eyes and cheeks. "Honestly, Liz, I don't know what's to become of you the way you... Stop! What're you doing!" she whispered, as both of Liz's hands went under her skirt to drag at the waistband of her panties.
"I won't!" said Helen, looking over her shoulder again, and getting up on her knees on the bed so that, zip! Down came her panties and out came her fluffy blonde pubic mound. "Liz, stop! Now now!" she hissed, arching forward and shivering delightedly, and holding onto Liz's brunette head with both hands while the warm red mouth and the agile pink tongue worked over her gushing cunt in such a lascivious manner that she couldn't help but be as shocked as she was thrilled. "Oh-h-h-h, oh-h-h-h-h, oh-h-h-h-h,", she moaned, "what's to become of us. Spanking Paul like we've been doing and having him run around near naked and you doing this to me all the time ... oh-h-h-h-h-h, it's not right, it's just not right, and, ah-h-h-h-h," she moaned, jerking her hips at the foraging face before her, pressing her twat harder against that sucking mouth as the hot juices of dirty sex trickled down her warmly quaking thighs. "No, no, no-o-o-o-o," she moaned, falling back on the rumpled bed for a shuddering grand finale of an orgasm, then scrambling away from her wantonly wicked sister and hiking up her panties and straightening down her skirt. "Liz, this has got to stop," said she, with as much force as she could muster. "You can't go on doing things like that to me. Paul will find out and .. . and it isn't right. Liz, you're not taking this seriously at all!" she said, as her sister just stretched and lounged in bed, smiling langorously, big breasts lolling heavily in the thin confines of her nightie.
"How do you feel about dressing Paul in rags if he doesn't do his work today?" said Liz. "And what about picking up a couple of thin, limber pieces of bamboo to stripe his little bum with?"
Helen stopped short, paled, flushed, and stammered, "If he... doesn't do his work? You'll. . . remind him to do it, won't you? Won't you, Liz?"
Liz snuggled down under the covers Saying, "Get some bamboo, nice and springy. And see if you can pick up an old flour sack."
Clearly shaken, Helen nodded once, then turned and fled from her house. A smiling Helen sat up and threw back the covers. She lazily drew the nightie up over her head, hawned and fluffed out her hair. "Paul," she called, and rolled over and lay on her stomach on the bed, cheek resting on her hand, tapered white legs wide apart.
He came creeping out from where he'd been watching in the hall, eyes wide, prick hard. He'd seen some fantastic things in the past few days, witnessed acts between his aunt and his mother that he'd never dreamed could happen, but none of the things he'd seen could quite compare to the vast beauty of his aunt, alone on the bed before him.
Her pale white legs gleamed like satin, entirely smooth, without a hair on them. Her full rounded calves had flattened in repose without losing their suggestion of strength and power. The shallow hollows behind her knees were smoothly contoured and from them her big, heavy thighs tapered outward to be as full as a mere girl's waist.
Her hips were stunning in their magnitude and her back veed outward from the indentation of her waist to soft, powerful shoulders strewn with raven hair. She was a beautiful, erotic sight lying nude like that and he felt priveleged to view her thus, especially that most beautiful part of all, the big rising moons of her buttocks, alabaster smooth and white, very deeply cleft with the split that curved steeply down to the tan orifice of her asshole and on to the the black-furred grotto of her sex.
Just days ago he'd have been more than content to stand staring like this for the whole day. Now, however, he was peeling out of his pajamas as he stared, for though she looked as if she might be asleep, her ten pink toes were wriggling in soft impatience for him to join her. He crawled up on the bed between her widespread feet with his stiff pecker pointing ahead at her and feeling monstrously big and hard.
"What should I do, Auntie Liz? What do you want me to do?"
"Mmmmmm," she purred, as his hot little hands trembled and crept up and down her calves.
"You're wonderful. I love you," he moaned, and fell forward to cover the backs of her knees with kisses.
"Sweet," she said, languidly kicking up a foot, and softly squirming her flattened tits and cunt against the bed.
"I'd do anything for you. I don't even care that you help her spank me," he said, close to sobbing with the beauty of it all as she lay there letting his hot hands and hotter kisses travel up and over the yielding fullnesses of her thighs.
"Feels nice," she murmured, and the smallest movement of her lush nude body inspired him to even bolder passion.
"Don't ever go away from here! Let me be with you always!" he cried, and wet her wonderful big buttocks with his tears and his kisses as she lay there purring like a lioness and softly arching her hips up, just for him, just for him!
"I think I'm almost ready for you to put it in me there," she said, and he couldn't believe his ears.
"Yes! Oh, yes, yes, yes!" he cried, utterly jubilant, tears behind him, mouth quickly descending through the deep, warm crevice of jellied flesh to find that sweet hole he knew from experience to be so sensitive and to wet it thoroughly for the insertion of his frantically hard prick.
It was sweet and soft and she could move it almost like she moved her mouth when he'd kissed her there. He used his tongue as she'd taught him, instinctively knowing the need to lubricate her there, but the passion with which he used his tongue had not been learned. It came from within him and he knew it would never waver toward another woman as he ardently sucked and tongued her anus, driven on by her sensuous stirrings and her softly purred words, "That feels so nice, honey, so very nice." He'd have gone right on kissing her ass forever, face buried between the big satin marshmallows of her buttocks, tongue up her butt, if she hadn't said, "Something else would feel nicer now. Put your prick in me now, darling. Fuck me. I'm so ready. You got me feeling so good."
"How do I do it? What do I do?" he exclaimed, fighting rising panic, though he was already up on his knees with his prick in hand, pointing its throbbing red knob at her kiss-wet asshole. "Just put it in, darling. Just push your prick right on inside me," she said, tilting her pelvis up at just the right angle for him.
He moaned in the agony of the ecstasy as his prickhead touched her flesh and for a moment he thought he'd cum and ruin it all. But her sharp intake of breath told him she was right with him, and her deep gutty sigh told him he'd shoved his hard prick all the way inside her soft asshole in exactly the right way.
She shivered and gripped the mattress and squirmed and arched under him and said, "Fuck me, Paulie, fuck me. You deserve it and so do I. Fuck me good and don't hold back. Oh, yeah!" she said, with a rising excitement in her voice that lifted him up, too.
His whole prick was sliding right in and out of her! It was the simplest thing in the world, but wholly amazing to him and with his hands resting hard on her ass he watched in total fascination as his slim white prick pulled out the puckered lips of her asshole and then pushed them back in, time after time, with accompanying sensations that were white hot.
"Do you like it? Am I doing it right? Tell me!" he said, wanting still more than the sight and the feeling of this wonderful thing that was happening to him.
"Honey, you're fucking me beautifully!" she said against the mattress, broad back rippling with her pleasures, heel kicking up against his thigh, heavenly big buttocks churning under his hands. "You're a wonderful fucker. I knew you would be. You're doing it just right. Your prick is magnificent. Push it in me and push it in me dig your fingers into my big fat ass and think about what a wild time we're going to have with your mother this afternoon."
"No! Only you! Only you!" he cried, driving his hard white cock into her huge tight ass with a savagery that was beyond him, unable to stop it, finally falling forward on her big softness to feel her sudden sweating as his prick began to gush and spurt and spew up her butt, filling him with pleasures beyond all else she'd taught him, for now he knew she was fully sharing those pleasures with him. "ONLY YOU! ONLY YOU!" he moaned, emptying his entire jismy self into her, and she sighed and writhed under him, clasping his sliding pecker closely with her hole, shivering warmly, and murmuring, "You're so good, oh, so good. Too good to keep all to myself."
Paul was feeling too luxuriously good to argue. He lay there sighing, his full weight on her comforting soft bulk, his prick encased in its warm, living sheath. He felt like dozing off but he didn't want to miss anything, and he felt that in just a few minutes she'd let him start sliding his prick in and out of her ass again. But no, she eased him off and out of her amid many sighs and pleasant groans, and he fell back on the bed beside her. "So that's what it is, huh?" he said. "Whew.
Really something." Liz kissed his nose and said, "Cunt fucking's even better. You'll see. But now let's get you cleaned up."
"Yeah," he said, and wearily started to rise. But she eased him back down, saying, "You rest. I'll get a warm cloth and wash you while you rest.
You'll need your rest before your mother gets home."
CHAPTER TEN
Helen slammed the car door and walked briskly up the walk to the house. She was a little late because of the time it had taken to procure the half dozen slender bamboo rods and the threadbare flour sack she was carrying, but she was still in plenty of time to give her son the discipline he might need. And there'd be time after that to find relaxation from the unsolicited attentions of her homosexual sister. Liz was a weird, pathetic woman. It was a weird, unnatural situation.
I would all end soon enough, when Liz's vacation was over with. Helen would just have to put up with her sister's lesbianism until then, and afterward proceed with her son's discipline, aided by the things she was learning now. The prospects of the now and the later were titillating if she allowed herself to dwell upon them but this she tried not to do as she hurried on to this afternoon's confrontation with her errant sister and her spoiled son. Helen opened the front door full of keen anticipation.
"Hi, Liz," she called. "Is Paul here? Did he cut the he-- My," she said, surveying her sister seated comfortably on the couch. "Were you expecting company?"
Even in the dim light of the curtained living room, Liz was dazzling. The coffee table was spread with a plate of canape's, a bottle of champagne, and two glasses and was lit by two candles. Liz's smile shone through the candlelight as she sat buffing her polished nails. She looked like a movie star dressed up for a bizarre, erotic movie. Her black hair was piled high in curls on her head, a few of which hung down in spiral tendrils as did her long, silver earrings. Her face was almost professionally made up with very dark red lipstick, green eye shadow, and artificially long lashes and eyebrows. Spider thin straps of black cut deeply into her soft white shoulders to support the black cups of her brassiere, abulge with creamy white breasts and cut low enough so that her prominent and lipstick-reddened nipples were on display over the cups. She wore high-heeled black patent leather boots of knee length, all agleam in the candlelight, and from their tight tops came sooty black hose, cobweb thin and skin tight, whose darker welts were stretched taut by thin black garter straps, decorated with tiny black satin bows and attached to an extremely tight black satin waist cincher that laced up the front. Black bikini panties, only slightly less transparent than her hose, completed Liz's brazenly exotic attire. Helen felt frumpy and more than just a little uncomfortable as she stood gaping at her.
"Just waiting for you," said Liz, and patted the couch beside her. "Paul isn't here. He went out somewhere. And he did not cut the hedge. Come sit with me, Helen. You must be tired after your hard morning's work waiting on all those women. Come sit and have some refreshments while we talk about exactly what it will take to keep our little Paul in line."
"I should take a shower. There's, uh, housework to be done," Helen murmured, quite alarmed at the giddy feelings sweeping through her, but nevertheless moving closer to the couch and the alluringly wicked woman on it.
Liz poured the wine as she came, handed her a glass as she sat down on the edge of the couch cushion, and Helen gave a start that spilled some cold liquor on her bosom when Liz's hand came to a warm rest on her knee. "You're jumpy, tense. Just relax," said Liz, frankly caressing Helen's nyloned knee. "We're all alone. No one can see us.
We can relax together and be all ready for Paul when he comes back. Why don't you slip that dress off and be comfortable."
"Oh, no. I'm .. . fine," said Helen, quite unable to take her gaze from the smiling Liz, fighting feelings of unnamed fear though their one-sided relationship was clearly established.
"Nonsense," said Liz. "That dress looks as ugly as it does uncomfortable. It's got to come off. Turn around, dear."
Helen sighed and turned around, and the sound of the zipper being drawn down was coincident with a wild shiver of anticipation that rose up her spine. She liked having her pussy licked. There was no denying that and no denying Liz's fondness for it. They were alone, safe, and the setting Liz had provided would only add to Helen's sensuous pleasures once she'd spread her legs for the lesbian's hungry mouth. She quaffed her champagne and let the dress be peeled over her shoulders, telling herself to relax and enjoy it while she could.
Liz told her to stand up and she did, and her dress was drawn down her increasingly glowing body by hands that touched her with all the appreciation she'd ever known from a man. The glow increased by leaps and bounds when those hands roved warmly over her panty-clad buttocks, slipped up inside the skimpy pink garment to fondly squeeze the mounds that were already feeling all buttery soft and nice.
"We'll just take off this garter belt and your hose, too," Liz said, fingers working within Helen's panties at the belt's snaps, while Helen stood smiling dreamily into her familiar living room. "You're certainly a pretty thing," said Liz, as Helen's nylons came whispering down legs that seethed with goosefleshy good feelings. Her cunt was seething and swelling too, knowing that soon it would be kissed and sucked by a mouth that knew just how to do it, just how to please Helen best in place of the man she really needed. Just let it all happen, that was the thing to do, as quickly as possible, and then get on to the other business at hand, watching her son flinch and jump under the sting of the whip.
"Sit down, dear," said Liz, and pulled Helen down on the couch beside her again. Once again Helen was dazzled by the startling good looks of her sister, and then she was shocked to the core as she was swept into strong, soft arms and kissed hotly and passionately, full on the mouth.
She tried to struggle, but her arms were locked between them. She tried to twist away from the unwanted homosexual kiss, but Liz in her passion was just too strong for her.
She tried to fight against the enveloping warmth and softness and the deeply penetrating perfume of the woman whose full passion had suddenly come to the fore, but this was of no use either. She felt she might be drowning in a sea of warm, good feelings, and though she knew it was terribly wrong she ceased her strugglings and softened her mouth and let Liz's searching tongue in to reach clear down to the depth of her bowels.
"That's it," Liz murmured against her lips. "Relax and enjoy life. You're such a pretty thing and you do so love to have your cunt kissed, eh? Isn't that right?"
"Y-Yes," Helen murmured, as kisses rained about her mouth and hands played expertly about her trembling body.
"And you like me to play with your tits like this, don't you? And you like to touch mine, too."
"No! No, please, I..." Helen tried to struggle again, but her hands were pushing against Liz's big soft tits and she was so completely enveloped in the lesbian's smothering warm embrace that there was no sense fighting it and even a certain wicked pleasure in joining into it to a certain extent. "Yes!" she exclaimed, clutching at Liz's big tit now, then letting herself take off into a wild flight into fancy by clasping her hps to the nipple when her head was pushed down' to it.
"Nice, eh?" Liz murmured, feeding Helen more tit, while with her free hand she reached the sodden crotchband of her pink panties and made the tender, swollen flesh within even more tender. "I'm going to kiss you there soon, eh?" said Liz, while Helen crushed the black-lingerie clad body to her, quite wild in her anticipation and in the crazy newness of it all. "And you're going to kiss my pussy, too," said Liz, and Helen froze, slowly disengaged her mouth from Liz's breast, and felt all the fear returning.
"Oh, no," she said, in a trembling voice. "No, Liz, don't ask me to do that," she said, shaking her tousled head. "I'm just not that way."
Liz smiled and nodded. "You'll do it. You'll try it once, if only through my panties. You will," said Liz, as Helen continued to slowly shake her head, "you will if you ever expect to feel this mouth on your pussy again."
The dark lesbian beauty loomed closer and her able mouth touched Helen's lips. She knew very well she had to feel it on her cunt again, and if the price to pay for that was a quick peck between her sister's legs, that price was cheap enough.
"Ill do it, I suppose, but," she said, "tsk, this isn't fair, you know. I mean, getting me all worked up like this, making me expect to have my ... well, my pussy kissed, and then making me sort of pay for it."
"And in advance," said Liz. ''No, not fair at all, but you'll do it, won't you."
Yes, she'd do it, and no nonsense about it. She pushed away from Liz, vowing to have her out of her house sooner than planned, and she pushed back the coffee table and got down on her knees on the deep shag rug as Liz spread her legs. Of course she was stroking her lovely thighs with her hands, smiling bewitchingly, rotating her hips very softly and doing all she could to lure Helen into an even greater display of lesbianism, but Helen was too smart to fall for that. With great outer calm, she placed her hands on her sister's knees, leaned forward, and pressed a prim'mouth against a tight black-furred cunt that was clearly discernible through stretched black panties.
"MOM!" cried a too familiar voice behind her, and Helen's blood rushed cold. "MOM, WHAT'RE YOU DOING TO AUNTIE LIZ?" Paul shouted, and Helen whipped about on the floor, cringing back between those nyloned legs, never so shaken before in her entire life.
"I was just... We were just..."
"YOU WERE KISSING HER BETWEEN HER LEGS!" he said, advancing angrily. "WHY, MOM? WHY WERE YOU DOING THAT?"
"I wasn't. You don't understand." She turned to Liz, but no help was coming from that quarter and her flustered confusion took another great leap.
"YOU'RE A QUEER!" he said, and she flinched back from him. "I'VE HEARD ABOUT WOMEN LIKE YOU! WHY WERE YOU DOING THAT IF YOU'RE NOT A QUEER??? I OUGHTA SPANK YOU LIKE YOU SPANKED ME!"
"Paul, please listen," she said, but he'd hear none of it as he paced about the room, raving at her. Once again in her great consternation she turned to her sister for help, and Liz said, "I'm sure it did look bad to him. He's obviously not going to get over it till he's punished you in some way."
"Punished ME!?"
"For his sake, a spanking would be the easiest, the best way out."
"Him? Paul? Spank ME? Liz, I couldn't!"
"You'll just have to," said Liz, in such a calmly commanding manner that Helen found herself being helped to her feet even as she babbled her protests, and led around to the other side of the coffee table. She felt cold as ice and hot as fire at the same time as her sister tried to soothe and advise her and as her son continued to pace and rant and accuse. "I just can't allow this," she said, but already she was on her knees again, now with her tensed and trembling loins against the edge of the coffee table.
"It won't last long. It's the best thing," said Liz and cleared the middle of the long table and went around it to sit down on the couch and take Helen's shaking hands in hers.
"Won't you explain to him? Can't you?" Helen pleaded, with her eyes as well as with her words, gazing up into Liz's sadly smiling face, seeing her shake her lovely head. "He ... he won't do it hard, will he?" said she, when she'd reconciled herself to it at last.
"Just hard enough. Paul, use that bamboo there by the door."
"No! No-o-o-o-o," said Helen, and began to weep.
"Just hold onto me, dear," said Liz. "Hold onto my hands."
"Wait! WAIT!" Helen screamed, but already it was too late as SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, the limber bamboo rod she'd bought herself bit through her panties to imprint three streaks of fire across her upturned buttocks. In those gasping, shockings instants Helen had a sudden clarity of vision that told her this might all have been_ planned, but before she could act on that, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, the rod streaked her again with fire, and all semblance of rationale fled.
"She needs it on her bare ass!" said Paul, and Helen's pink panties were yanked far up in her crotch, baring her bottocks to half a dozen more strong cuts from the rod.
"Don't! Make him stop! That's enough!" she screamed, humping forward against the coffee table as the blows rained down on her. She grasped for any support she could, found her arms thrown round black-covered hips, and blubbered and sobbed into the wide hollow of deeply perfumed loins as, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, the fiery streaks mounted.
"Think she's had enough, Paul?" said Liz. "Enough! Enough!" Helen sobbed, hugging her possible savior to her.
"Heck, I only just got started," said her son behind her, and now her panties were ripped down from her hips, their tangled crotchband torn out from between her fear-swollen cuntlips, and, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, SLASH, the cruel thin rod scored again and again on her totally defenseless buttocks, surely flame-red all over now and swollen to twice their normal size.
"Paul, don't you think that's enough?" said Liz's cool voice through the rain of hot blows. "Don't you think you should do something to make her feel good now?" she said, running soothing hands over Helen's sobbing back as Helen continued to sob and blubber into her crotch.
THUH-WHACK! he hit her again, she felt his whip fall from his hand to her leg, and she mouthed warm kisses all over her sister's crotch, blubbering, "Thank you. Oh, thank you, thank you."
"It's all right, dear." Liz's hands stroking her head were wonderfully comforting. "He's gone for a while. You can relax now. Let me get up for a moment, dear."
Helen shakily pushed herself up with her hands on the table, fearfully looked behind her to see that Paul indeed was gone from the room. When she turned back to face her sister she saw her big hips moving from side to side as her hands pushed the tight black bikini panties down. Her gaze became riveted to Liz's cunt as it was bared, black fur all matted from the tight panties, vulva visible as a glistening pink split just under the fur.
Helen's lips were very dry and she licked them, staring, hands moving nervously over her torso to find that her bra had come loose and her tits were fully engorged and very sensitive on their ends. "Ah-h-h-h," said Liz, fluffing out her matted pubic hair, then spreading the pink, pink cuntlips and sighing again as she rubbed the swollen tissues with her fingertips.
"I got all hot," said Liz, and sat down on the edge of the couch with her thighs wide open and her fingers still moving on her cunt. "When he was spanking you and you were kissing me here I got all hot, Helen, like you were before. Know what I mean?"
"Uh-huh." Helen leaned forward with her hands on Liz's knees again, nostrils flaring in the thick aura of her sister's scent. "But he'll . . . spank me again if he catches me doing it to you," she said.
"That's right, dear," said Liz, and ran her fingers through Helen's blonde hair, and Helen's eyes fluttered closed as she came forward to dip her tongue, then her lips, in the soft wet flesh of her sister's big cunt.
"Mrara. Nice," said Liz, and shifted her hips closer.
Nice?, thought Helen. It was absolutely heavenly, the sexiest thing she'd ever experienced, despite its depravity, and she sucked and tongued and kissed with greater and greater ardor, fully sharing in the lovely pleasures she knew she was bringing her sister and tensing but not quitting when Paul's voice sounded behind her.
"Gosh darn, she's at it again. Worse than ever. What am I gonna do about her, Auntie Liz? Just spank her some more, I guess."
"Not now. Not yet. Let her enjoy herself now," said Liz, very obviously enjoying herself, if her movements and the tone of her voice were any indication. "You make her feel better now," she said, and Helen's cunt-kisses grew still more ardent in her gratitude.
Helen gave a start, then sighed and wriggled her sore backside most happily as she felt her son's rough hand smoothing soothing cold cream all over her scalded asscheeks. It was pure luxury, it was as good as any sex she'd ever known, and she spread her knees more widely on the rug and placed more grateful kisses on Liz's slowly humping cunt.
"Uh!" She grunted, but she didn't stop kissing when Paul pushed one slippery finger, then two of them, inside the opened ring of her anus. This was horrible, far beyond any humiliation of having a spanking at the hands of her son, and Helen panted and writhed in shameful embarrassment as he probed them all around there.
"Don't DO that to me!" she hoarsely cried, as the fingers tried to stretch her anus and feel all about inside it, and she was told to shush and her head was yanked down into the fetid crotch, while behind her her son giggled and went right on shaming her.
Helen struggled and pushed against soft flesh now, lucid again for the moment but terribly weakened by those awful fingers up her butt that dug deeper and probed farther despite her every effort to expel them. She knew very well she'd been conspired against and she drew in a breath to shout for the police when the fingers were abruptly oozed out of her and she sighed all over in deep relief. Then immediately a hard, hot thing was pushed inside her feverish hot asshole and she was screaming, "Don't let him DO THAT to me! He's got his thing in my REAR!"
"Hush, Helen, you love it," said her perfidious sister, and held her tight against her.
"Jeezus-Peezus, REALLY tight and hot and soft!" her fiendishly pumping son grunted from behind her, digging hard fingers ito her hips, digging a harder prick into her asshole, and Helen collapsed into insanity again and the orgasms flowed and flowed.
"Uh-huh! Uh-HUH!" Helen grunted, as Liz said, "Fuck her good, Paul. She really loves it."
"In my ass!? In my a-a-A-ASSSSSS!!!" she moaned, as her panting boy excitedly said, "I'm gonna cum! Man, am I EVER gonna cum!"
"Aw-w-w-whg!" Helen groaned, from the depths of her soul, as she very distinctly felt and reacted to each hot spurt of her son's jism plunging up her orgasming butthole along with his ramming, driving, wonderful cock. And, "No-o-o-o-o," she moaned, as his digging fingers relaxed their hold on her hips, and his steel-hard cock oozed beautifully out of her sucking asshole.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Is she okay, Auntie Liz? Did I hurt her?"
"She's fine. Your mother's just resting. "
"Maybe I did it too much to her, but I just couldn't stop."
"She loved it, Paul. She's just resting. Did you feelgood?"
"Wow! Terrific. Can I cuntfuck her now?"
"Not and do her any justice just now. You've got to rest a bit too. And both of you have got to be inspired again. You know she kissed my cunt, Paul. A lot."
"Yeah. Was she good? Did she do it as good as you used to do it to her? As good as I do it to you? Did she?"
"Ummm. It felt nice. I came a lot. But you know what she gets for kissing my cunt."
"Yep. Another good spanking."
"Oh, no," said Helen, dragging herself up from out of a delicious lethargy, unable to keep from speaking in a little girl's voice. "No more spankings. I've been good, done what you wanted," she said, and lifted her terribly drowsy head from the warm wet nest of her sister's crotch. "No, I couldn't take another spanking," she muttered, pleading, and brushed back her tangled blonde hair with a weary hand and heaved herself up on her knees, feeling as if she weighed a thousand pounds. "Don't. Please don't spank me any more."
"Her bra's come undone," said Liz. "Look, Paul," she said, and pulled the sagging pink garment down over Helen's weak, shaking arms. "Doesn't your mother have lovely tits?"
"Yeah," said Paul, pinching the handiest one, completely ignoring his mother's feeble attempts to fend him off. "Real nice tits. They don't stick out as good as yours do, Auntie Liz, but they're just about as big, and they're nice and soft and white."
"They look whiter against her tan."
"Yeah," said Paul, feeling, pinching, hefting, despite Helen's little whining protests as she stood swaying on her knees, fighting new stirrings of insidious lust.
"How would they look with some nice pink stripes across them," said Liz, and Helen hung her head and silently wept as Paul's hand left her tits to pick up a fresh new whip.
Helen didn't even hear the sounds of this whipping, hardly even felt the pain. She could see the bamboo cane as a blur as it swung down on her tits and she could see them quiver and redden with the repeated impacts, but all she really felt was a growing warmth within her for the scourging she was getting. She gazed dully down at herself through tears that continued to flow, and she saw her bright pink nipples growing stiffer and stiffer with each of the blurred blows. From the corner of her eye she could see Paul's small white prick flopping around with his vigorous slow movements, and she could see it too as it slowly grew rigid, hard, ready for further humiliating her. She couldn't let that happen to her again. She couldn't be taken from behind like that, and so she reached up and caught the next descending blow of the cane and cast it aside, then grasped her son's cock and pulled it into her mouth before any command was issued.
Liz laughed and said, "I'll bet it's the first cock she ever sucked, but she's doing a good job of it."
"Jeez, look at her go!" said Paul. "She really likes it."
"Mmmmm!" Helen said, brows knit, concentrating her all on the perfectly delicious hard cock in her moving mouth.
"Can you cum again this soon?" said Liz, bending forward to watch more closely as Helen of the striped tits and ass, makeup smeared with tears and hair all tumbled down, sucked so avidly on cock.
"Feels like it." He grunted and thrust more of it into Helen's eagerly accepting mouth. "Yeah. It sure ... does ... FEEL LIKE IT!" he said, and his words dissolved into grunts as he pistoned a copiously spurting prick into his mother's mouth, holding her by the head lest she try to quit at this point, though there was little chance of this in spite of Liz's tittering laughter and the choking gobs of cum that had to be swallowed.
Helen orgasmed again, many times now, each one coinciding with another fresh spurt of boy-cum from her only son's hard, throbbing cock. Eyes closed, body glowing and cumming everywhere, she sucked that beautiful cock to dryness, knowing that this wholly wonderful act of supplication would bring her the ecstasy of goodness that would rival the ecstasy of orgasm she felt down to her toes and fingers and to the roots of her hair. And at last, at long marvelous last, his prick has ceased its spurtings and oozings and her body dwelt in the afterglow of ecstasy, and she let it slip from her swollen lips and she slumped down across the coffee table, totally cleansed and pure once again.
"Good blow-job, Paulie?"
"Terrific. I came a quart."
"At least. I think we'd best take her into the bathroom now, clean her up, get her ready for some more good times or some more punishment, whatever it is she ought to have."
"No more punishment. No more," Helen muttered, as her limp sweating body was lifted to its feet and she was staggered down the strangely familiar hall under the support of these two people who seemed to be her sister and her son.
She was thrust into an icy cold shower bath and brought to senses that were not truly hers. She could taste her son's cloying sperm in her throat and her sister's musky twat on her lips, and she could feel the welts on her shivering body, but she was no longer the woman she had been, and she didn't like what she'd been turned into. Helen was ready to crash through the shower door to escape from the icy blast of water and get at the laughing couple outside, when the door to the shower was opened and the water turned to hot, and in moments her shivering body was blasted with steam and she was screaming to be let out.
They let her out. She collapsed in their arms, whoever they were, and she watched through dripping lank hot hair as her wrists were trussed up with a nylon stocking and this was tied to another stocking and she was placed astraddle the toilet and her arms were stretched up over her head till her swollen ass could no longer rest on the toilet seat. Higher still her arms were hoisted, her weak protests of course ignored by the giggling pair of tormentors, until she was well clear of any support from behind and had to rely on her stretched arms and her kitten-weak legs to hold herself up. And then at a command from the woman who claimed to be her sister something awfully hard and slim, not nearly so comforting as her son's warm cock, was pushed slickly up her already violated asshole and her insides were being bloated enormously with liquid coldness.
The sensation was so very awful that in spite of her debilitations she had to fight against it, straining and churning and sobbing and pleading, and still the awful filling process went on, with devilish laughter as its background. It stopped then, the hard cruel thing was eased out of her, and as much as she strained and fought against it, the big bulge in her belly all came rushing out at once, along with the contents of her bladder as she squatted over the flushing toilet, weakly beating her head against the commode.
"No more. Not again," she mumbled, but the hard thing was pushed up in her again, and again the awful filling and emptying went on, and yet again, and again, till what little was left of her strength was flushed on down the toilet with the cool clear liquid running out of her by the gallon. Helen was truly cleansed by then, with nothing of any slightest evil nature left within her, and then again they filled her to bursting and this time told her to hold it inside her, and they untied her and stood her up over the porcelain bowl, facing them.
"I can't hold it. I can't!" she whined. "Nice blonde cunt," said Liz, and stooped and kissed it, sucked on its clit, and immediately brought Helen to moaning orgams. "An awful lot like mine," she said, and did it again, while Helen with her bound wrists whimpered and orgasmed and held the liquid obediently within her.
"Let's see," said Paul, and now he stooged down, hiding his lovely hard prick, and sucked on the cunt to make it cum, and again Helen obediently held it in, though it was much harder now with her dearly beloved, much maligned son doing it to her.
But then at last when he rose, smacking his lips, she shook her bedraggled head and said, "I can't. I just can't hold it in any longer. I'm sorry. I just CANT!"
"We'll fix that," said Liz, and Helen's tears flowed in earnest as her tensed buttocks were sharply pinched together to dam up the impending flood.
They both got down and sucked her cunt. Their laughter flowed as copiously as Helen's tears and orgasms as now she had no reserve whatsoever to call upon to hold in the gushing, exploding feelings in her overwrought body. Naked? There was no time to think of that. Her son and her sister doing terrible things to her? What did that matter. Wrists bound and confined in a tiny bathroom, Helen was expanding into the universe, and then quite abruptly her pinched buttocks were released and it all flowed out of her in a rushing cool torrent and she knew very well she was cumming as no other human being ever had before.
"Can I fuck her now? Cuntfuck her?" Paul eagerly asked.
Helen tossed back her bedraggled head and laughed, as her sister said, "You can do anything you wish with your mother. But let's get her into bed first, hmm?"
Helen's bound wrists were undone. That didn't matter. Neither did it matter that she couldn't walk by herself and had to be supported between them to that wholly comfortable place where she knew she'd be able to rest at last, her own sweet prominently elevated and the bright pink expanse of her crotch was open and ready for anything these two chose to give her.
"Your mother's really pretty there, isn't she?" said Liz, and petted and stroked the pink and gold gash.
"Boy, she really is," said Paul, and got up and bent his face down to place a zigzag row of kisses on the clearly exposed flesh.
Helen took deep, deep breaths and said, "I'm ready now. I'm very wet. And .. . and I'd like to have this over with."
Paul moved aside and his hand went to a cock that wasn't quite so soft any more, and Liz winked at him and took his place behind his mother. She was standing up on her knees, though, and her cool demeanor belied the high excitement she felt as she placed one hand in the small of Helen's swayed back and took the free end of the dildo in her other. She placed the end accurately, gave a sharp shove of her hips, and stuck in the mushroom shaped knob. Helen uttered a sharp gasp, threw back her head, then lowered it again, impaled on two inches of artificial cock.
"How does it feel?" Liz solicitously asked.
"It's all right," said Helen in clipped words.
"It doesn't hurt you, does it?" said Liz, poised with still a great deal of dildo left to go, and with her hands moving softly over her sister's lovely white ass.
Liz began to move. Not with the in and out strokes that Paul expected, but with a slow rotation of her hips, easing Helen's end of the cock into an ever more comfortable fit just inside the portal of her stretched cunt. She kept a nice warm hold on Helen's hips. From time to time Liz would move her big white hips back so that a good six inches of the big thing would slide out of her open, black-haired cunt, and then she'd smile and ease her hips forward again to suck in her half of the thing with obvious pleasure. Crouching down on the bed, Paul could see his mother's cunt-lips wrapped round the plastic cockshaft as if they were sucking on it. Liz stopped her hip movements to inquire, "Can you take a little more, honey?"
Helen nodded. "Uh-huh."
"Darling, I don't want to go on if it's really unpleasant for you."
Helen took a deep, shuddering intake of breath and said, "No, it's all right. I guess the worst is over with now."
"Helen, I'm really going to fuck you hard with it. Sure you want to go on?"
Again the deep sigh. "I don't have a choice, do I?"
"Not really," said Liz, and pushed two more inches of plastic cock in her.
"Oh, God!" Helen exclaimed, and momentarily threw back her lovely blonde head.
"Too much?" said Liz, easing it in and out, still making those slow rotating movements of her strong, wide hips and her heavy round buttocks. "It's all right. It's ... It's . .. feeling better."
"Better and better all the time," said Liz, and introduced another two inches of cock to her sister's cunt.
Paul's interest was growing with his mother's enjoyment, and this was clear to see. The prick in his hand was fully hard once again as he watched his exotically garbed aunt fuck his nude mother from behind.
Liz's sleek hose were still drum-tight and her black waist cinch had her big buttocks standing out even more prominently, striped as they were with the taut black garter straps. Though one shoulder strap had fallen, her black bra was still in place, pushing up her luscious big tits to a point where they looked as if they might spill down on his mother's naked back at any moment.
Liz's hair was only slightly disarranged and her make-up was intact as she grinned down at the shivering blonde woman under her, kneading her hips with both hands while she fucked her. And Helen was doing more than just shuddering now. Her pendant tits were slowly swinging and her elevated hips were moving in a slow rotation that was in time with the leisurely penetrations of the cock in her cunt.
He could barely see her face through her hanging hair, but he thought he detected the hint of a dreamy smile on it. There was a fine pink flush on her body that tempered the residual red strips on her upturned ass. She was beautiful. She looked like a bride, and Paul looked forward to the time when he'd have his mother in that position.
Liz pushed forward and fed Helen her full half of the shared dildo, and Helen arched her butt up and exclaimed, "Ah!"
Liz stopped, black loins nested against Helen's ass, and said, "Too much, eh?"
"No. Really. I'm amazed," Helen said, clearly panting now, and with her hips in constant small motion. Liz drew back and gave her another big push with it and she fell down on her elbows, exclaiming, "Oh! Ah!"
"I think she's really taking to it, Paul," said Liz, easing a full eight inches of the glistening thing in and out of Helen's slippery cunt, and taking time to treat herself with a sliding insertion from time to time. "I think your mother likes to be fucked with my dildo."
"Do you like it, Mom? Do you?" he eagerly inquired.
Her tits and her face were mashed against the bed. She was panting heavily and there was no mistaking the deep ecstasy written all over her lovely face. Eyes closed, she nodded, panting, and she said, "not as good as your cock in me, Paul, but... oh-h-h, God, it's just lovely, LOVELY!"
As soon as Helen said this, Liz's bosom visibly swelled, and she took very firm hold on Helen's hips and began to use the thing between them in earnest. Lovely head thrown back, triumphant grin on her face, her heavy hips moved with great force and amazing rapidity as she demonstrated her expertise with the double-ended dildo. She was able to work both ends of the thing in and out of both of their cunts while Helen squealed deliriously and clutched at the covers with both hands and did her best to keep her gushing cunt up high as the perfect target for those deep, hard thrusts. The cunt juice was running down her long legs by the spoonful as the heavy cock squelched loudly between them, both women going wild with it, but Liz still in control.
Her bra had slipped so that her tits were free and bouncing heavily. Her big buttocks were bouncing and jouncing too as she fucked like crazy, fingers digging deeply into Helen's hips, cock squirting back and forth between them. Paul longed to be in the middle of it somehow, but could only lie there in awe at the exploding passions of these two mature women he loved so dearly.
"Yes! YES!" Liz shouted, and it was obvious she was experiencing an orgasm of gigantic proportions, one in which Helen just as obviously shared. Paul was sure the peak of their pleasures was passed then, and equally sure they'd be too exhausted to let him use his dick on either of them. But he was surprised by them again when Liz's thrusts drove Helen flat on her belly on the bed, and then the two acted as one in scrambling about for a new position for their deep pleasures.
Panting and pushing, they helped each other around till their heads were at opposite ends of the bed and their crotches intimately pushed together. Paul couldn't even see the dildo between then as they strained their cunt-lips together, each one hauling up at the foot of the other. "It's so deep!" his mother cried. "I can feel it clear up in my throat!" she croaked, and fell to kissing Liz's booted foot as she tugged on her leg to bring them closer still.
"Yes! Yes!" Liz triumphantly cried. "Cum with me now. Right now!" she commanded, and both of them shivered and shuddered together, cunt locked to cunt, soft bodies writhing and sweating together, expressions of indescribable ecstasy on their faces.
It was Helen who sighed and went limp first after the grinding mutual orgasm. Then Liz relaxed too, laughed and kissed the bare foot in her hands, and got up on one elbow. She sat up and helped Helen do the same, with the dildo still impaling them both, and with their legs nicely nested together and their big tits brushing warmly against each other, they smiled and kissed and Liz said, "Well?"
"Honey, it was just wonderful!" Helen exclaimed, and kissed her older sister most warmly. "You always know what's best for me. I was such a silly goose to be afraid of it. I'm ready for anything you ... or Paul wants me to do from now on."
Liz kissed her on the nose. "Don't be too ready. Sometimes it's nice when a girl puts up a fight. It provides a little . .. inspiration."
Helen hugged Liz very hard, mashing their tits together, tongueing her deeply, but then she pushed her away and made a pouting face and said, "Well, that's the end of that. I don't know what you two did to me, put drugs in my morning coffee or what, but I do know I'm back to my old self again and completely through with all this crazy sex. And you are too, Paul." She shook a warning finger at him, then controlled a deeply pleasurable shudder as she eased her cunt off the dildo inside it.
"You're much too young to be having sex, especially with your aunt and your mother. The very idea! Tsk. You ought to be ashamed of the way you took advantage of me, ganging up on me and taking my clothes off and spanking me. Making me do all sorts of things I just don't do under any circumstances. And that enema was just awful! And now you want to fuck your aunt. Well, that's out of the question completely. You get out and cut that hedge. Right now!"
"Aw, Mom!" he said, before he saw the mischievous sparkle in her eye. "Can't I do it just once to her? Please?" he said.
She sighed, reached out and grasped his cock. "It is awfully hard," she said, and reached the other way and laid her fingers on Liz's waiting cunt. "And she is awfully soft. Of course there's no way you could satisfy her after our dildo fucking. Then again, there's no way you could cut the hedge with a cock like this trying to poke out of your jockstrap. Once would be all right, I suppose, big bed.
She fell heavily upon it, sprawled on her face, and could have gone to sleep at once had they not been there surrounding her and talking about her.
"Can I cunt fuck her now, Auntie Liz? You said I could."
"Soon, dear. God but you're beautiful. But let's soften her up a bit first. Hmm?"
"I'm ready," Helen muttered. "Oh, so very ready," she said, and rolled over on her back, hooked her hands under her knees, and hauled up her shapely legs till her cunt and her asshole and every part of her was all split wide and open and ready for anything they would give to her.
It was an electric dildo she got. Liz shoved it right on up her splayed asshole and turned it on full as Helen moaned, "No, no, no. It's cock I want, not that thing. Give me, gimme, gimme, cock,cock, cock."
Paul got up and give it to her. That huge big battery-operated vibrator was immense in her asshole, five times as big as his prick, but it didn't begin to compare with the deep deep spreading feeling of her son's fine young hardest cock jamming impolitely into her long-suffering cunt and bringing her the complete, complete exhaustion she'd always sought for, without knowing it.
He slammed that cock into her with wonderful savagery while she hugged him and kissed him and gleefully asked for more. "Oh, God, that feels good! Uh, UH, UNF! I didn't know how bad I needed to get fucked. Cum in me, baby. Give me all your good, hot jism!"
He was working fast and furious, tight little nuts drumming hard against Helen's lovely pink vulva as his dick plunged again and again in her gushing twat. But Liz could see that his efforts were flagging now, and he confirmed this as he gasped, "Don't know... if I can ... do it again this quick."
"Let me help," said Liz. Paul rested, panting, for a few moments as Liz helped Helen draw up her legs so that her knees touched her lolling tits. Helen squealed as she did this, for her new postiion made the buzzing dildo squirt out of her well tickled asshole. Liz laughed as she picked it up, and then it was Paul's turn to squeal as the thing was inserted into his asshole. He didn't have to be told to start moving again.
"Oh, this is glor-r-r-rious," said Helen, holding her crotch wide open to get all the pounding it could from her newly frenzied son.
"Cumming?" said Liz, as she held the dildo up Paul's bum, working it around, keeping him going.
"All the time!" said Helen. "This fucking is so good I keep cumming ALL THE TIME!!!"
"Me, too!" Paul gasped, a small cyclone of activity now as his wet hard prick pistoned in and out of his mother's cunt with blinding speed. Then he cried out, "Ahh! AHH! AH-H-H-H-H-H!!!", and his body arched forward like a bow, quivering all over, and he hung there for long, intense moments while his mother's legs and arms wrapped around him and she hugged him and kissed him and thanked him for the wonderful fucking he'd given her.
Helen's long legs flopped down on the bed and Paul rolled off her, his cum-covered prick still stiff, but dwindling in size and then falling limply over his thigh even as the two sisters watched.
"What a shame," said Helen. "Now he doesn't have any left for you, Liz."
"I will," Paul croacked. "Just gimme a few minutes, and I will." Helen got up on one elbow and reached out a hand to her sister. "I feel like such a greedy pig," she said. "You're probably in a terribly frustrated state by now. Would it help if I..." She looked down at Liz's cunt and wet her lips with her tonguetip. "Would it help if I... kissed you there a little? I really wouldn't mind."
"You're sweet," said Liz, "but I'm really in the mood for a little fucking right now."
"Gimme a couple minutes, willya?" said Paul. "Crimenentlies, I can hardly wait to cuntfuck you, Auntie Liz, but my prick's just not hard enough now."
Liz leaned over and kissed him, and said, "You'll have your chance. But your mother and I feel like a little more fucking NOW!"
CHAPTER TWELVE
Two pairs of eyes watched as the big woman in black rose from the bed and sauntered gracefully across the room. She reached in her attache case and returned with an object that made Helen draw back when it was tossed on the bed. Paul giggled and said, "It looks like two peckers stuck together."
"That's exactly what it is," said Liz, and picked it up and touched one of the bluntly tapered ends to her lips. "It's a double-ended dildo, something that let's two women have a good time at the same time, when their man isn't quite ready to join them."
"People actually USE those things?" said Helen, aghast.
Liz just smiled and spread her heels on the rumpled bed, and parting the fleshy pink lips of her cunt, she placed one end of the two-foot long device in the orifice of her cunt and pushed it in.
"Ah-h-h-h." Her sigh echoed the smile on her lovely face as she eased the pink, two-inch diametered plastic thing in and out of her cunt, going somewhat deeper with it at every slow stroke. "Mmmm, it feels so nice, and it never goes soft. Try it?" she said to Helen.
Her sister quickly shook her head. "I couldn't," she said, wringing nervous hands over her belly.
Liz winked at Paul, and he said, "I better go get another one of those bamboo whips."
"No, wait!" said Helen. "Don't do that. I just... it's just that...."
"It's something one has to get used to," said Liz, and sighed again, slowly rotating her hips now in time with the slow insertions of the big, long artificial cock. "And it doesn't take all that long to get used to."
Helen said, "But it's so big. It... it scares me it's so big. Do I HAVE to?"
Liz shrugged and Paul said, "Yep." Helen sighed in resignation and rolled over on her back, arms and legs spread out, face turned away.
Paul giggled again as Liz got up on her knees on the bed. "It looks weird sticking up out of your cunt like that, but it sorta looks like it belongs there. Fuck her good, Auntie Liz." But then he frowned and said, "Hey. Am I gonna be able to do any good for either of you after you've had a big thing like that in you?"
Liz smiled and paused to kiss him. She said, "Size doesn't mean a thing. You'll have that proven to you soon, dear."
He nodded and his hand went to his flaccid dick, but Liz didn't notice that. Her eyes were focused on her lovely blonde sister, long legs stretched out, flat belly and flattened tits moving with her nervously deep breathing. Liz liked the double-ended dildo. She liked using it on herself and she further liked using it on a woman who'd never had a taste of such a thing before. She knew she'd especially enjoy using it on her sister, always the prettier of the two, and the one who'd led such a staid life up until now. The presence of her son as witness would certainly add to the spice of the occasion. She eased her heavy hips down between Helen's outspread legs, relishing the suppressed gasp when the cold, hard shaft pressed down against Helen's cringing split.
"It's plastic," she said, making things as clinical as possible at this point in the game. "So we've got to get it as lubricated as possible before I start fucking you with it. It's not hurting you, is it, dear?"
Helen shook her head. "Go ahead. Get it over with."
"Can't rush things," said Liz, as she worked her big white buttocks between Helen's splayed legs, sliding the thing that protruded from her cunt over the vulva and clitoris under it.
Helen winced a few times but otherwise didn't move. Her eyes and lips were closed now and she was breathing heavily through her flaring nostrils as Liz slid the big thing up through her slit, getting it wetter and wetter as she went. She drew back, took the shaft in her hand, and looked down at Helen's pink and blonde twat as she moved the blunt end all about the portal of her sister's vagina.
"Go ahead," Helen blurted. "I think I can ... take it now."
"Oh, not this way," said Liz, still teasing the knob around Helen's vigina. "For your first time out with this, we'd best do it doggy-style."
"Oh, God," Helen moaned, and covered her closed eyes with her forearm. "Can't you just put it in and get it over with? Dog style. I can't let you do it to me dog style."
"I'll get the cane, Auntie Liz," said Paul.
"One way or another, Helen," said Liz. "You'd best get up on your hands and knees."
Liz lifted her weight from her sister's body and sat with her legs spread out, moving the nicely wetted false cock in and out of her cunt, watching and waiting and getting nice and ready. Helen clucked in disgust, but the color in her cheeks was due to something more than shame as she laboriously got up on her hands and knees on the bed. Her head and her hair were hanging down and so were her tits. Her belly sagged, Liz was all laid back, hands folded comfortably behind her head, legs spread out. Paul was on his knees before her cunt, quaking with hot anticipation. Helen chattered on, teasing and pulling both cunt and cock, thoroughly enjoying her current role as mistress of ceremonies. At last she put Paul's little cockhead in between the fleshy hps of Liz's cunt, patted him warmly on his naked ass, and said, "Begin, and mind you do a good job."
The look on his face was pathetically comical as his little prick fell right into Liz's stretched out, commodious cunt. He embraced her, weight on her body, and flailed away with visibly poor results for a time, when all at once his face lit up and Helen's growing sympathy fled, as he said, "It got all tight! Wow!"
"Cunt control," said Liz, and wrapped her big legs around him, all but engulfing him with their power as he picked up speed and banged away at her beautifully tightened cunt for all he was worth.
Helen watched, sighing. She was starting out on a new phase in her life. It would be necessarily secretive, clandestine, but highly exciting and wholly satisfying. If anyone found out about the true relationship between the mother, the aunt, and the son who lived so quietly in the nondescript house, disgrace would be the least of her problems. Then again, who could say what secret lives were led in the house next door, or the one a street. It was food for thought, but she'd think about that later. Now she'd enjoy watching the lovely spectacle of the handsome, horny young boy who happened to be her son, fucking the beautiful, horny woman who happened to be her sister. She'd enjoy that, and she'd enjoy letting her thoughts wander ahead to what further surprises might be awaiting her once she'd talked Liz into staying on with them after her vacation was done with. And if she couldn't talk her into it, what then?
The answer to that was easy. She'd simply force Liz to stay. She'd chain her up if necessary, but she wouldn't let her go now that she'd opened the door to the wildest sort of sex imaginable. Helen smiled, rubbing a twat that for the first time in its life was truly alive, and she thought about just how her sister would look in chains, dressed up in that flour sack she'd bought that day, getting all the attentions that had so drastically altered Helen's drab, bored existence.
