2 comments/ 328800 views/ 48 favorites Aunt Fran By: 80niner When Dauntless Doug, single-handed, brought the Japs to their knees and waded ashore in Tokyo Bay, the war was over. Now it was spring 1946. I was discharged from the Army Air Corps and a member in good standing of the 52-20 club, a program that paid vets twenty dollars a week for a year if they couldn't find employment. There were jobs around in our small town of four thousand people but I had the brilliant ideas about writing a novel before I settled down to the old grind. I got into the habit of walking the five blocks up town to a nice little bar where I inbibed in a few beers, chatted with the lady behind the bar, then came home. I usually went up to the little den I had fixed up in the room behind my bed room. Here I had my books, an old easy chair and a desk to hold my one luxury, a Smith Corona, portable typewriter. Usually arriving home frustrated, mildly inebriated, and horny, I dropped my pants and settled myself in that old reclining chair with the broad arms to exercize my Mr. Happy until he spurted. Then I went down to supper. This afternoon, as happened at least twice a week, old Min Trout had stopped by to play Canasta with Aunt. I teased around with old Min for a few minutes, promising to smack her butt on her birthday, next month. Then I went up stairs to play pal to my perky pecker. Below, I heard the murmur of voices from the women playing cards in the kitchen. Their voices wafted up through the register that looked down on them. I kicked off my shoes, crossed to my chair, shoved down my pants and shorts to free my stiff cock. It stood throbbing and bobbing toward my navel. I sat on the cool leather which caressed my warm ass cheeks. I lay back and hooked one leg over each arm to spread them wide. Now, there was no hurry. I reached down and found an old copy of Sunshine and Health I had hidden among other magazines and found the full page picture of my favorite naked lady, a thin older woman with a fabulously hairy bush. It amazed me that that little woman could sprout so much foliage down there. My staff throbbed to full attention. Both hands moved to my crotch. The fingers of my left hand cupped and caressed my balls. I shivered and cradled then gently. Sometimes, if I was patient, I could come just from gently manipulating my hairy balls and never stroke the shaft at all. I was so wrapped up in what I was doing I tuned out what was going on below. While I heard Min's loud voice, I was too involved in my own fantasy and feeling too good manipulating my testicals to listen to what she was saying. I was having a few imaginative thoughts of my own about old Min that had nothing to with the card game going on below. I fantasised about all the curly hair, probably gray, she hid between those scrawny thighs. I imaginged plain, long drawers down to her knees and pale ass cheeks that had never seen the sun. Old Min Trout was old when I first saw her seventeen years ago. Though her face was lined with wrinkles and she appeared to be skinny as a rail beneath her long, baggy skirts that only disclosed thin ankles hidden beneath cotton stockings. Now, in my mind, there were no clothes, no thin ankles, no wrinkles. I concentrated on a full thatch of crinkly hair I could only imagine. I pictured my hand between old Min's legs and ticking her dripping pussy, perhaps the middle finger pluming her ancient depths. My excitement grew as I stroked my veined cock rising magestically agains my belly . I was lost in my world of hand fuck, making believe Min was eager to service a young man like me. My hand slid up and down my joint, moving the foreskin up and over the swollen, purplish-red crown,then quickly retracting it. Jerking off is aptly named. Jerking off is the most fun any man or boy can create by himself. I was in my own time zone, my own world of fisting. Finally, I could postpone the crisis no longer. I speeded my stroke. My hand became a blur. I felt it start somewhere behind my clenched ass hole. My legs stiffened, my butt, without volition, rose from the sweaty leather seat and my body arched, straining and suspended, between shoulders and legs on the chair arms. My throbbing cock pointed skyward. My eyes closed tight for the last few strokes as I imagined old Min begging for more. I squeezed my bursting cock in both hands and pounded my top fist against the lower one. God! It was so good I could barely stand it. My labored breathing rasped faster. My scrotum tightened. My balls tightened and rose until they almost disappeared up into my body. I tensed, strained, froze. The first spurt landed high on my chest. The second hit just above my navel. I spurted slick, white stuff until a glistening pool formed on around the top of my encircling fist. I counted the throbs under my breath. ONE. . . TWO . . . THREE. . . FOUR . . .FIVE. I had reached SIX when I heard a startled gasp. Aunt stood in the doorway, a cupped hand at her open mouth, eyes watching my throbing seven inches spurt my life force from the slit in the purplish head. My legs slipped from the chair arms. I tried to cover my diminishing erection with my hands. It was a loud whisper, but Aunt spat it out, "Filthy boy!" She turned and left. Moments later I heard her footsteps descending the stairs. My heart thundered in my chest. I fought for breath. To my shattering climax was added the shock of being discovered. Aunt would call it self abuse. I cleaned up the mess on my hand and on my belly and pulled up my pants. I sat a while trying to collect my wits.. I had no Idea what Aunt would say when I went downstairs. To my knowledge, she had not seen me naked since I had entered puberty. I had spied on her once when I was nine or ten when she was about to climb into the bathtub. I knew she had a thick patch of light brown hair down there and what, at the time, I thought were tremendously large buttocks and thick, pale white thighs. She would have beaten me to within an inch of my life had she known I had seen her. Aunt was a terrible prude when it came to nudity. Though I was now an adult, a veteran home from the war, I dreaded going downstairs to face her. Aunt was busily, too busily, placing food on the table. She wiped at her eyes and did not speak. "You should not have walked in on me," I said. "I am entitled to my privacy." "I never realized. . ." Her voice choked. "I didn't think my boy would do such a nasty thing in this house." "Most people do it." "The terrible things you learned in the army. They took my innoceent boy and. . ." She set the mashed potatoes on the table and threw up her hands in an effort to say what she could not say. "It's not something I learned in the army." "You're like a different person." Her shoulders sagged. "I never thought you would turn out like this." "I damn sure never learned anything about sex in this house, at least not from you." "Your supper is getting cold." Aunt sat at the table and I pulled out the chair oposite her. We did not say grace. We never did. "It happened. It's over," I said. "I'll never go near that room again, I promise." Aunt's voice quivered. "Good." We ate in silence. Later I quietly dried while she washed the dishes amid a deafening stillness. As she passed me, leaving the kitchen, I gave her a smack on her fat butt as I occasionally did to tease her because I knew she did not care for the familiarity. She stopped dead in her tracks, for a moment as though she were going to say something, but she moved on, through the living room and went up the steps to her room though it was barely eight o'clock. *** There remained a coolness between us. The next few days I kept my pecker in my pants. But there came a day when nature gave me a hard-on that would not go away. I came home from the bar with a few beers under my belt. Went directly to my room and did the dirty deed with dispatch although the image of old Min's hairy crotch filled my fantasy as I throbbed out a self-induced ecstasy. Downstairs, Aunt and Old Min semed busier gossiping than playing Canasta. Min's raspy voice and Aunt's softer one drifted up through the venilator. "Now don't be getting yourself in a dither," cautioned Min "He was just doing what comes natural. "He was doing nasty things to himself," breathed Aunt. "You caught the boy doodling his dick." hooted Min. "That's all." "Abusing himself," corrected Aunt. "I never called it what you just said. I said he was was doing nasty things with his member." said Aunt. "Jack was pulling, his pud," giggled Min. "That's what he was doing." "It ain't natural," said Aunt. "Not to mention being a dirty, filthy act against nature." "The boy was just playing a few scales on his meat flute," giggled Min. "Men get them hard feelings and they got to do what comes natural." "Nasty is what it was," said Aunt. " Sheeit," cackled Min, "I reckon we've all tickled ours a time or two." "Well I'm sure I never. . ." "Of course you never, Hon," soothed Min as she licked her lips. "I can't help getting upset. Seeing him practically naked, and doing that to himself." "Jack was a doing what comes natural. A man has got that thang a danging tween his legs, sometimes it gets upity and rambunctious. He's got to take a hand to it ." "So nasty," said Aunt. "Now don't be too hard on the boy," cautioned Min, trying to soothe Aunt's feelings. "Jack was just being Jack." "His thing was so big and angry looking," said Aunt. "Never found one to look that way," said Min. "I always took a hard one as a compliment." "Nasty as it was," confessed Aunt, "I swear I couldn't look away. Like I was hypnotized. Does that make me a sinner?" "Whooee" exhaled Min. "I'd a give anything to have seen what you seen." "Monsterous is what it was," said Aunt. "Course I never saw but one other and that was my husband's . He was not a big man over all but down there he was too big for me. I hated what he done to me." "Poor you," sympathized Min. "Now me, I enjoyed every solid inch of old Harm's dong, and he fed it to me on a nightly basis." "You're talking filthy," accused Aunt." "Talking truth," said Min. "You're telling me he put it to you every night," Aunt asked in awe. "How on earth could you stand it?" "Sometimes I stood, sometimes I got on my knees, sometimes I just laid oback and spread my legs," cackled Min. "Then again, sometimes I just bent over and let him do me from the rear." "That's terrible," gasped Aunt. It sounded like Min was licking her lips. "Harm knew how to make my old pussy purr, that's for sure." "Good God. The nasty things you blurt out." "Ain't nobody to hear but us horny old bitches," said Min. "I am not," said Aunt, "a bitch, or as you say horny." "Then stop acting like one and admit that seeing that boy get his rocks off gave you more than a little twitch in your twat." "Did not." I thought I detected a slight giggle before Aunt choked it off. Min grunted. "You said it was all covered with veins that seemed to be throbbing?" "And that thick stuff spurted out like I couldn't believe." "Really popped a load," said Min. She cleared her throat. "Well come on. Are we playing cards or not?" "So go on and deal," said Aunt, "You're holding the deck." I heard the cards hitting the table as Min dealt rapidly. "So young Jack has got a big one, has he?" giggled Min. "I'd rock naked on my front porch to see that. I lay back in my chair and slowly stroked my erection. It seemed old Min was as interested in what I carried between my legs as I was about what she hid between hers. I imagined her with her skirts thrown up over her back and her scrawny bare ass pressed against my pubes as I rammed seven inches of solid cock up her hair ringed hole. I came in no time. *** Occasionally, I sat in for a few hands of Canasta with Aunt and Old Min Trout. This afternoon, I was pretty sure Min was cheatting. I closed my hand over the old womans bony fingers. "I'm begining to smell something fishy." "Hope it ain't me," cackled Min. I washed it along with the rest of me, Saturday night." "Mrs. Trout," gasped Aunt, "You shouldn't talk like that in front of the boy." "Now Jack's no boy. He a growed man that fought his share in a man's war and I reckon he knows a when an old woman's joshing him." She leaned over and clasped those talon-like fingers on my knee. "Ain't that right, Jack?" "Just the same..." said Aunt, "it's not fit talk." "I'm twenty-one," I said. "And I reckon you been further around the world," said Min., "than us old folks has been around the bed looking for the piss pot." "Such language," gasped Aunt. "Heard worse," I said. "I've heard thiings you've never dreamed of." "I'd doubt that," said Min. "Well, don't be spouting them around here," said Aunt. "Min. Now hurry up and deal." *** Another day I came home early and slipped upstairs. I heard the women talking in the kitchen. I took off my shoes and went in to my little den and went to the gratting where I heard the Min and Aunt in serious conversation. "Speaking of boners," said Min casually, as she shuffled the Canasta Deck, "you had anymore sightings of Jack's working out the big one?" "Good Lord!" sighed Aunt. "Once was enought for these tired old eyes." Min snorted. "Har! Reckon if I saw it once I'd be hankering for another viewing." "Since Jack come home, I been having nasty thoughts and nasty feelings down there," said Aunt. "I feel so ashamed of myself." "I reckon you got a thrill or two coming in your life. From my way of thinking, you ain't had many. Aunt shuddered. "I can't get the sight of him out of my mind. Especially since I told you about it. Sometimes" she confessed, "when that boy teases me by smacking my backside, I get moist down there. In all my born born I never had those feelings so strong." "Aw Hon, you got to know that's your old pussy weeping for attention." Min let her hand drop to Aunt's thigh. "Sheeit, Hon, such feelings is normal in a woman. Everbody gits 'em or ought to." "They happen, sometimes, when we're doing our nasty talking like we are now." "It's not nasty," insisted Min, "We're doing some straight from the shoulder, honest talk. I got to admit I wouldn't mind having a real, honest -o-god-boner put to me one just more time." "Good Lord! How you talk," gasped Aunt. "And at your age." "Age has got nothing to do with it," declared Min. "If I was to get a glimpse of his thang, I'd go after it gums and tongue." "That's a terrible thing to say!" "Meant every word. I got to tell you it's been some time since a man had me on my back." Min winked at Aunt. "Now you already admitted that thinking about Jack's thang has give you the weeps down below. I reckon I'd be wanting some if I was to get a glimpse of it." "..Why. . .Why. . . I raised that boy. He's like a son to me. That would be just terrible." "A good solid boning would do both us old gals a world of good." "Disgusting," breathed Aunt." "Put a little color in your bottom cheeks," declared Min. Aunt was speechless. "If it was up to me," declared the old woman, "I'd be giving that boy all the nooky he could handle." Aunt shook her head. "I'm seventy-two years old. I haven't had relations with a man in nearly twenty years and glad of it." "About time you got something stiff rammed up your cooze," said Min. "Clean out your pipes. Stoke the fire before it goes out completely." "Never had much fire," confessed Aunt. "Having a man on top of me never cut it." "Bet Jack could give you a good poking," teased Min. "You're getting me all upset," said Aunt. "You're making me feel strange in places that never felt much." "Har!" said Min, "I've had a moist crack of my own since the subject of the boy's boner came up." "Comes from unhealthy thinking." declared Aunt. "Makes for some fine screwing," said Min. "Tones up the system, puts spring in your ass." "That don't seen natural to me." "Hon," said Min, "You got to tiddle your wink ever once in a while to keep it in trim." "I don't know what you're talking about." Min squeezed Aunt's thigh a little harder. "What you got to do is scratch what itches. Rub where it does the most good." "Are saying I should abuse myself?" "I talking about tickling that place any way that feels good. You got to exercize yours like your boy exercizes his." I couldn't," said Aunt." *** When I got home, I went to the bathroon and washed up and unloaded some of the beer I had consumed earlier. I flushed the toilet and went downstairs. "I didn't know you were home," said Aunt. "until I heard the toilet flush." She looked a little flushed, herself. "Just came in." "Been drinking beer?" asked Min. I nodded. "You know how it is. Drink one pee two." "Jack! That's no way to talk before company," said Aunt. "Hell!" I'm not company," said Min. "I'm a neighbor that just dropped in. If Jack wants to say pee instead of piss I reckon he can spit it out in his own home." Aunt shook her head at Min. "I reckon the boy's got the hose for it, when he's got to go." Old Min nodded her head at Aunt. "You and me, we got to squat to drain ours." "Such talk should not be going on in front of a young man," insisted Aunt. "Lighting the load is something we all got to do," said Min. She stood and turned to go. "Well, I best git to gitten." She bent to pick up a heavy stack of magazines. "I thank you for the reading material." "Jack," said Aunt. "Those are too heavy for Mrs. Trout. "Why don't you carry them up the hill for her. Wouldn't take you a minute." "Be happy to." "You needn't mind," said Min. "I can handle them." I took the load from her. "Too heavy for a young lady like you," I said. "Har, har," roared Min. "They don't come much older than me." I smacked her small, solid backside that hid under her voluminous skirt. "Move on." "Jack!" shouted Aunt. "You don't take such liberties with a lady." "Only on my birthday," tittered Min. "Ain't got spanked on my birthday in many a year." "When is it," I asked. "Jack," warned Aunt. "Oh c'mon," said Min. "Jack's just being Jack. No harm done." "A boy should respect his elders," said Aunt. "Now stop it." "Now he'd just funning," said Min. "Jack's just beingJack. He's a grown man." "He'll always be a boy to me," defended Aunt. "And that's no way to talk in front of him." "Jack's no boy," said Min. "Jack went off and fought a war to save your ass and mine." "Just the same," continued Aunt as we went out the front door, "He shouldn't be going around smacking older ladies bottoms." Min and I went down the steps and turned to go up the hill to the little yellow house on the other side of the street. "Your Aunt Fran gets all upset over nothing," said Min. "She's prety much of a prude," I agreed. "She don't understand that a young man likes cop a feel any time he can." "I'm that obvious." "What I'm saying is, it's human nature." The birdlike, old woman set the pace and I took longer strides to keep up with her. "You didn't mind?" "What's one more hand patting on this old butt. I reckon there's been several over the years." "Do I have to wait for your birthday for another shot," I asked. "Do I get a smack for each year. "Sheeeit!" roared Min, "if you was to give me smack for every year, my nether cheeks would be redder than a rosy red apple and tingling like all get out." "It'd be rosier than that if was on your bare bottom." "Har de har," cackled Min. "It would make a lot more noise too," I added. "You got a point. Min laughed. "But it ain't gonna happen and Ithese are two old cheeks you ain't about see." I took the plunge. "I'd like a shot at them." The old woman put her head back and cackled, right out in the middle of the street. She clutched my arm. "Good Gar, young man, You do come out with it, don't you?" Aunt Fran "I'll let you pat mine." "Nekkid?" "Why not?" "Well now, boy. I reckon to some that'd be an offer that's hard to refuse." We crossed the street and turned into the narrow walk that led to a side door. She fished in her pocket for a key and bent over to fit it into the lock. "I reckon from the position I'm in, I'm lucky you got your hands full." "Just biding my time." "Well now, you are an ornery one. I bet you could really handle a woman." "If she wants to be handled." Oh ho," laughed Min. "I'm thinking you're a real big boy for sure." I grinned. "I'm six two." Min shook her head and cackled. "Now you know that ain't what I was meaning." She held the opened door for me. "You can set them things on the kitchen table." She closed the door behind us. I figured she did not expect me to leave right away. I set down my load and turned to her. "Would you like to be handled." She put her hands on her hips and looked up at me. There was a sparkle in her eyes. "Now, young men, there are things a man does not ask a woman. When he feels the time is right, a man does what he has to do." "He does?" I stepped into her, reached around and cupped both hands on her small, firm buns. I pulled her against me. I knew she could feel my hard-on press her belly through my clothes and multiple layers of hers. I squeezed those small, taut globes of flesh. I separated them and pushed them back into place. "My oh my," marveled Min. "You do take an old lady at her word." "Shouldn't I?" "Reckon you ain't heard no complaints," she grunted. "You got an awful lot of clothes on," I whispered. My hand roamed over her small, rear projection. "Now you know I ain't bashful," tittered Min but revealing my skinny butt ain't something I haul off and do just any old day." "I can tell you've got a nice one," I countered. "Ain't no man judged that fact in, I'd say, ten years." My hand roamed over those small flesh mounds. I forced two stiff fingers into the wedge where her thighs came together. The went far enough to rub her old pussy. "You're getting into personal territory, boy. A man should not be fingering a lady that way unless his intentions are strictly dishonerable." I laughed. "I reckon mine are that." "Well now. That's an answer I ain't heard in a while." My fingers pressed deeper. You got too many clothes on, for me to feel anything." "Well, God knows, I'm feeling it." Min gave no sign of a struggle. I hugged her hard and whispered in her ear. "Have you got a lot of hair on your twat?" "You are a bold one." "Have you?" Min laughed. "A tolable amount, I'd say." "I've always pictured you having a really hairy one." "You've some spent time thinking about this old woman's twat?" "From the time I was a little boy," I confessed." "Well now, think of that." "I thought about your pussy a lot." "You want a peek at an old l crotch, so you can go home and get off on what you saw?" "I've done it, imagining what you got down there." "Now ain't that nice, you didling youself while thinking about an old lady's parsley patch when you got no idea what it's really like." "I imagined it being real hairy, with thick black curls like in the nudist magazines." Min nodded. "You got to remember I'm an old woman. I ain't like the girls you're used to." "Fine." "You'd best be hurrying home," said Min. "Your aunt Franny's going to be wondering what's taking you so long up here." "Fuck Aunt Franny." Min giggled. "Have you ever?" "Of course not." "Might be what the old gal needs, though she don't know it," said Min. "It'd do her a world of good, getting a stiff one shoved up her." I looked at my watch. "Give me a peek, a real quickie?" "Whoa. Slow down boy. I didn't say nothing about revealing any personal places so you can go home and tend to business." I know the disappointment showed in my face. Her hand brushed my fly. Warm, bony fingers closed around my pecker and squeezed it through the cloth. "Ain't held a live one of these in a coon's age." "You like?" "I'd say you got a fine one. I figured you would," said Min. "Now you best git on home fore Mrs. Poe comes rushing up the hill, hunting you." "I'll show you mine if you bare yours." "You know that wouldn't satisfy neither of us," reasoned Min. If we're going to go at it, we need the time to go at it right." She gave my boner another squeeze. "Now you head home and do what you got to do." I clutched her well covered ass. I'm going to have to something desperate when I get home," I said, "and I'll be thinking about you all the whole time." "I wasn't meaning to tease you." Min shrugged as she changed her mind. "Well," she said, "if we're going be baring ass, let's not be wasting time. You can lift my slip and give a tug at my bloomers for a quick viewing of my scrawny butt." Min turned and grasped the seat of a kitchen chair. She elevated her buttocks. "I hope this satisfies you for a while." I unbuttoned her dress and peeled it off her back and turned the long sleeves wrongside out. I shoved the dress over her hips and let it fall to her ankles. She wore a long heavy slip. I flipped it up and over her back. She wore no underpants. Except her dark cotton stockings, she was naked from waist to ankle. Min's thighs and bottom were firmer than one might expect for one her age. Her butt and legs were a light tan that I figured might come laying naked in the sun. Her hairy sex, from the rear, appeared as a darkness disappearing below the rounded projection of small rounded buttocks and between firm, tapering thighs. "My God!" I breathed, "you're not skinny, you've still got a great shape." The old woman wriggled her butt, a bit proudly. "Like what you see boy?" "Like it a lot," I said, "can I touch?" Old Min licked her lips, "I reckon you can do that a little." I ran my hands over the aged skin of her rounded backside. I reached between her legs and ran my fingers through the tangle of dark hair "I knew it was going to be real hairy," Ibreathed in her ear. Min raised up and turned to reveal a flat belly and more hair down low on her belly than I had dreamt of. "Now, young man," she tugged at my belt, "be showing this old lady what you got?" I unbuttoned the top button of my pants and lowered my zipper. I pushed and my shorts at the same time. My boner popped out and up beneath my shirttail. Help yourelf." "Don't mind if I do," said Min. Her fingers clutched the hard, stiff cock and moved the foreskin down off the bulging crown of the purplish head. She leaned over and deposited a brief kiss on the head. I sucked in mybreath waiting to see if she would continue. Min stepped back. "I'd say we're out of time. Best you should put that away for now and head for home. Your aunt will be hiking up the hill to stop me from seducing you." I shook my head. "Let's screw." "You promised." I nodded and pulled up my pants. "You know what I'm going to have to do.?" "Reckon I could be in for a little rubbing on my own," chuckled Min. "I might be keeping your dinkus in mind while I'm cultivating my little fur garden with these bony fingers." She patted me on the back. "Now don't you fret. We ain't seen the last of each other." I heard her close the door behind me. I headed toward home my hard-on tenting my pants. I kept on hand in my pocket to fondle it and keep it in top shape until I got where I could take care of it. *** Aunt stood at the front door when I got home. She watched me walk up the steps. "I was beginning to think you fell in," she said, sarcastically. "Just stayed a few minutes to tease Mrs. Trout." I noted the look of disapproval in her face as I moved past. Her expression left little doubt she had seen the bulge in my pants and she knew what I would do as soon as I was safely in my room. She started to say something but apparently thought better of it and held her tongue. I knew she was bursting to warn me that I should not be indulging in my evil practices. Actually, I felt a tingle of excitement as I passed her in my hardened condition. I found it turned me on to know she knew what I was about to do. I wondered if it turned her on and in spite of her disgust and disapproval. I wondered if it made her dry,old crack just a little juicy. As I moved to the stairs, she called, "Jack?" I turned, the bulge fully visable. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just can't reconsile my Christian feelings to your practices. What you do when you go upstairs. . . I mean when you're alone. . ." "It doesn't hurt anyone." She shook her head. "It's not natural." I smiled and patted her fat backside and let my hand linger a moment on those full rounded globes of soft flesh. "Don't worry, Aunt Franny. I'm not going blind or crazy. Aunt shook her head and moved away toward the kitchen. "Supper will be ready soon." Thirty minutes later, she stood at the foot of the stairs and called up. "Jack, if you're finished, supper's ready." Converation was strained at the supper table. Aunt seemed distracted and I wondered if she were picturing my boner in her mind, what I had done upstairs. After clearing the table and helping with the dishes, I turned out the kitchen light and followed Aunt from the room. She paused in the doorway from the kitchen to the living room as though waiting for me to smack her bottom. It was something she at least pretended to hate, though it had become almost a ritual since I had returned from the war. I looked down into her upturned and expectant face. "Go on. Do it," she whispered. "You know you're itching to." "Do what?" "Smack my bottom. You do it all the time, anymore." I gave her a smart tap an her right buttocks and let my hand linger there to cup a portion of the lower rounded part of one full, plump cheek. I was surprised when she did not move away or act offended as she usually did. "That wasn't hard," she teased. "You can smack harder than that." "You don't mind?" "I deserve a smacking for the evil thoughts I've been having." Her lower lip trembled. "Im sorry, I can't help it. I just can't stop having those evil thoughts." "If that's the way you feel about it, maybe I should lay a few on your bare butt." "You have no respect." Aunt pulled away. "Don't be impertinent." "I'd have more respect if you were as honest as old Min." "What do you know about Mrs. Trout that I don't?" "I know she calls a spade a spade and an ass an ass." "And you smacked hers?" "I'd like to and I don't mean as punishment." "She's an old woman, like me. "Maybe you would feel it a lot better if I was to warmyour bare butt for your sins." "It's your sins I pray for," hissed Aunt. "I don't know what's come over you since you came home. You aren't the boy I raised." "No. I'm a man now," I said, "I don't have to be putting up with your disapproval." Aunt clamped her jaw, sat in her rocker and refused to say another word. I picked up a magazine and let her pout. An hour later, without a word, she got up and went to her room. *** Later, I went upstairs intending to spend a little time in my den. As I passed her door, she called out. "Jack?" I turned and entered the room. Her lamp was out and the low watt bulb in the upper hall cast a dim light. The white lump on the bed I knew was Aunt but she looked strange. I moved nearer. She lay on her stomach, her nightgown raised to midway up her back. Her calves, thighs and those large, pale, mottled buttocks lay starkly bare. My aunt lay before me, virtually naked. I stood at the edge of the bed looking down on twin mountains of white, rounded flesh. "I was teasing you. I didn't mean for me to do it." "God forgive me," whispered Aunt. "Here, move off the sheet. Let me cover you." "I deserve the shame of you seeing me. I deserve to be spanked." "No." "Spank me!" begged the old woman who had raised me from the age of seven. I sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on her back just above the rise of those pale, dimpled cheeks. I was surprised at how warm her flesh felt. "We have to talk." The white hair moved on the pillow. "I know." "About sex and how it affects us living in this house together." "I was never very good at talking about sex. Sex ruined my life," she confessed. "That's a shame." "I've been blind and stubborn." "We all make mistakes." "Smack my butt," begged Aunt. "Smack the devil and his evil thoughts out of me." I moved my hand up and down her spine, felt her body's warmth and the rough, aging skin. "I am touching you. "Lower, you know, where I always said you shouldn't." I moved my hand onto the rise of the fleshy cheek of her considerable ass. I let my fingers slide down to the rounder lower part where the crease indicated the start of her immense thighs then back to the center crease and then partially into it untill I reached the top. I felt Aunt shiver. "Are you cold?" "No." "Nervous?" "I never dreamed I'd let you touch me this way." "Do you want me to stop?" "I can't help myself." I let my fingers go down to cup the lower part of one cheek and squeeze the soft flesh then wormed my fingers between the closely closed thighs. I found a trace of soft hair there but not much. There was no moisture. "Please," moaned Aunt. "Not there." I withdrew my hand and smacked her smartly on her ass. "Is that what you want?" The head on the pillow nodded and I smacked her again. The sound of my hand on bare flesh sounded explosively loud in the quiet room. I smacked her again and watched the soft flesh jiggle. Her hips moved and I snacked her again. The hips raised, then fell after the blow. Her legs parted just a bit. My cock had risen when I first saw her nakednes. Now with each blow it throbbed harder and became uncomfortable. I moved to straighten the boner in my pants. Aunt's head, turned sideways on the pillow, noticed my movement. "Does this make you want to do what you do when it gets big?" "Didn't you know exposing your butt would make me hard?" "I wondered if it might," she confessed. "Well I've got a big hard-on from smacking your butt." "Your uncle spanked me. " "For play?" "He said I was frigid and needed a warming up. He spanked me and then took me." "Took you?" "Put that ugly thing of his inside me . Then he pounded me till he emptied his seed." "Married screw. It's part of life. It's supposed to feel good." "That man hurt me everytime he put his thing in either place." My hand squeezed one fat buttocks and widened the crack between those huge, soft, flabby cheeks. There, in the dim light, I made out the dark brown, wrinkled rosebud of her crinkled asshole and the darker skin around it. I wet my finger and touched what I knew was a tender and tabu place for her. "He put it in you there too?" Aunt turned her head away. "I cant look at you when you look at that nasty place. "Answer me," I smacked her again, a bit harder this time. "Did Uncle Joe ram his cock up your ass?" "Please, Jack, don't talk filthy," she pleaded. "I'm trying to be honest with you. I'm trying to let you know how I feel." "You want to see my cock again, don't you?" "Such a nasty thing, looking at my nephews's privates." "But you want to. You want to see me jerk off." Aunt shivered and drew her knees toward her chest. "God help me," she breathed. In the dim light, reflecting on her bulbous buttocks, the lightly fringed fig of her sex pouted below the bulge of her nether cheeks. My finger sought the cleft in the pale, brownish-pink lips and entered her tight, barely fringed, barely moist opening. Aunt moaned, "So nasty." "Only if if you think it is. "Mrs. Trout says I have missed so much." "You two talk about sex?" "Sometimes," admitted Aunt. "Why don't you call her Min? Everyone else does." "That wouldn't be proper." What does Min tell you." "She says I can still know what it's like to enjoy a man inside me." "You never have?" "Not with your uncle. There has been no one else." Only that afternoon, I had said of my aunt to Min, "Fuck her." I shed my shirt, quickly. Now I prepared to do just that. I quickly unbuckled my belt and opened my zipper. My pants fell to my ankles and I stepped out of them. "Do you want me to fuck you?" I asked. Aunt moaned as I moved my finger inside her. "Please. Don't use that horrible word to me." I kicked off my shorts. I stood naked, next to the bed with my cock at full extension. "You wanted to see my cock. Turn around and look at it." "I shouldn't," whimpered Aunt. But she turned on the bed and raised herself up on one elbow and moved her head in my direction. "So big," marveled Aunt. "So terribly angry looking." "Touch it," I commanded. Her fingers ran lightly up and down the pulsing length of my shaft. "I looks so cruel." "Cruel?" "Knowing it can tear at a woman's insides and hurt so much." "It shouldn't do that," I protested. "Your uncle's always did and he was nowhere as big as you." "You want it shoved in you?" I teased her back hole with a miustened finger and forced it in to the first knuckle. "It's going to hurt," whimpered Aunt. "I know it's going to hurt something awful." "But you want my hard cock in your ass?" "I need to be punished." "Need to be hurt?" "For the nasty thoughts I've been having about you." "My fucking you is a punishment?" "If you must call it that, yes." "Yes what?" "Your fucking me is my punishment." "Ask me for it," I demanded as I forced my finger another knuckle deeper between those fat cheeks and into her tight rectum. "In my butt. Put it in my bottom." I guided her out of bed. Get out of that nightgown. Bend over and stick your fat butt out so I can get at it.. I'll be back in a minute." "Where are you going?" wailed Aunt. "To the bathroon. I'll be right back." Naked, Aunt bent over with her feet on the floor, widely apart. She half lay on the bed with her backside well presented for my assault when I returned. I twisted the cap off a jar of vaseline and stuck my finger into the slick mass for a dab. I parted Aunt's fat cheeks, opened her dark rosette and inserted my greased finger. Aunt moaned. I put a second liberal dab at the opening and more about the anal ring. Then I smeared vaseline all over my hard cock especially the head where it would ram into the tight hole. "I'm frightened," whined Aunt. "So frightened. "It's too late now," I whispered. "You're going to get it right up the old shit chute." "Filthy talk," said Aunt. "Such filthy talk for a young man." "Who is about to screw the hell out of his old Aunt's asshole." "Oh Yes!" gasped Aunt. I stood directly behind her, parted the fat cheeks and aimed for the greased opening. "It will go in easier if you relax," I warned. "I can't." moaned Aunt. "How could anyone relax with that thing about to tear her apart?" "It's not going to be that bad," I chuckled. "You're just getting cornholed." "What?" "When I push in, you make like you're going to crap. Push out and it will make your hole bigger," I instructed. I brought the head of my throbbing cock to the target and pressed forward. Aunt screamed into her pillow and bit down on it." "It can't hurt that much," I protested, "It's barely inside." Aunt quieted down and I figured it was the expected pain rather than the actual entry that triggered the scream. I pressed forward, slowly but steadily with no further protest until my short hairs were within the cavern of her parted buttocks and my pubic bone was pressed against her tight asshole. Aunt Fran had taken all seven of thick, hard cock up her ass with barely a whimper. I rested a moment, my cock surrounded by the warmth and grasping, clutching tightness of my aunts rectum. I fought to keep from coming, not only from the tightness and heat but also the thought of where I was lodged. Aunt Fran "Does it hurt?" I asked. "Only a little," marveled Aunt. "Why in a minute, after I get my breath, I think it could almost feel pleasant." "You don't say." "I feel so full back there," said Aunt. "You're so big." I pulled out about half way then forced my way back in. "Ready to get fucked?" "Isn't that what we've done." "Only the begining. I put a hand on either plump hip, withdrew then slammed back with a bit more force than the first time." "Oh my," gasped Aunt. I did it again and paused. "You all right?" "It takes one's breath away," said Aunt. I did it again. "But it doesn''t hurt?" "I've never had the feelings I'm having now," confessed Aunt. "Now. . . We'll get down to some real fucking." I began see-sawing in and out. I increased speed as Aunt added a few motions of her own. Her big ass began to sway and push back to meet my thrusts. "Ooooooh," moaned Aunt. I reached around to find her pussy and located her clit. I pressed it lightly and rubbed it in a small circle. "Oh my God!" screamed Aunt. "I feel like I'm coming apart." "Go ahead and come," I urged. I kept slamming into that soft, cushioning mass of flesh as I filled her asshole. "Something is happening to me," moaned Aunt. I slammed into her one last time and pressed as much of myself as I could into the warm, tight cavern of her ass and shot wad after wad of the hot, white cum into her bowels. My knees went weak as I fell on top of her and pressed myself into her and fought for breath. Aunt whimpered and wriggled under me. "Oooh God," she moaned. I rubbed my belly against the soft, warm, globes of her ass flesh and pressed to keep my cock inside her." "You like my hard cock up your ass?" I whispered in her ear. "Oh yes." "It's nasty getting fucked up the ass." "So nasty." "But you like it?" "Oh I do, I do." Aunt lowered her voice to a whisper. "Do you like doing it in your old aunt's fat bottom?" "Love it." Aunt giggled, girlishly. "I'm not sure whether I have to go to the toilet or not." "Was it like this when Uncle Joe did you? "He never used vaseline or anything. His thing hurt me even if it wasn't nearly as big as yours. Sometimes I bled." I smacked her on the bare bottom. "Let's go wash up." "Together?" "Why not?" "Now that we've done it, I suddenly feel shy." "Done what?" I teased." "You know. What we did.." "What was that?" Aunt turned her head and lowered her voice. She tittered nervously. "We fucked." "How?" "You put it in my ass. . . my asshole." "Did your asshole like all that was shoved up there?" Aunt pressed her naked body to mine. "Oh God! I love your cock to death." "I guided her toward the bathroom. "I'm not sure I can walk," said Aunt. "I wonder if my poor heart can stand it." I slapped her lightly on her seventy-two year old bottom. "You're saying you just got ass fucked?" Aunt shook her head as though she could not believe it. "I've never used such language. I can't believe I'd ever admit that I enjoyed it." "You said Uncle Joe did you there a back there lot." "He never used anything to make it go in easier. He made me cry." "I'll never make you cry," I promised. Aunt paused in the bathroom door. She looked up at me with glistening eyes. "Only with joy, my dear boy." I squeezed a handfull of naked ass cheek. I like this big, fat ass of yours. I like playing with it." Aunt leaned against me. She tittered. "Anything you like, you can do." "I like fucking it," I whispered in her ear. "My fat, old ass," giggled Aunt. "Oh God! You've got me talking like a filthy slut." In the shower, I turned on the hot water. I soaped her good all over and then I turned for for to soap me. We left no parts unlaved. Naturally, with her soapy hands lovingly washing my cock it got hard again.. I worked the suds into the cleft of her ass and inserted a finger as far as I could." Aunt moaned. "You're making me weak in the knees." "Turn around and bend over. Brace your hands on the wall." Aunt presented her ass as I directed. With lots of soap suds on my cock, I aimed for her little brown hole and entered with one long slow stroke. "Ooooh My GOD!" marveled Aunt. "I went right in without a bit of hurt." "No complaints?" "Not if my knees dont buckle from the pleasure." I reached around, found her clit, and proceeded to tickle it." "Your fingers feel good too." Aunt was soon breathing hard. "On your clitty?" "That's what Mrs. Trout called it." "Haven't you ever played with it?" "Min says I ought to do that more." "That means mean you did it some." "Mama said it was a sin to touch myself. When I was a girl, she caught me and she whipped me with a leather strap." "She caught you?" " I was thirteen." Aunt moaned. "Are you all right?" "I'm gettting weak in the knees, from what you're doing to me," breathed Aunt. "I don't know if I can stand up if you make that happen to me again" I pulled out and pulled her under the shower. "We better rinse off and finish in bed." Aunt turned and kissed me on the cheek. "It feels so good, it seems a shame to stop." I helped her from the tub and wrapped a towel around her shoulders. "Then can we do it some more?" "Maybe we'll try out your pussy. We'll see if it still works." Aunt finished drying her big butt and tossed the towel on the rack. "I'm not sure if what you call my pussy ever worked the way it should. Mrs. Trout, Min, say it's a pleasure pot but I never got nothing but bad feelings down there." I patted her fat butt and urged her toward my bed room. "You've never had my magic wand up there," I teased. Aunt tittered. "That's where I thought you'd put it when I called you in to spank me." I followed Aunt onto my bed and turned her away from me. We both lay on our sides as I approached her from the rear "Let me tickle your pussy from the rear and that way you wont have to feel my weight." "You can put it in my backhole again if you want," purred Aunt. "Don't want pussy to feel neglected," I murmured. I used my fingers to probe her crack and found a bit of her moisture but probably not enough. I slipped out of bed. and went to her room. "Where are you going?" Aunt turned to wathch me leave the room. "Vaseline," I said. You need a little slickening up to make it feel better when I slide into you." "What ever you say," agreed Aunt. "If I'm going to hell. I might as well enjoy it." Later we went to sleep, spoon fashion with my softening cock still lodged deep in my old aunt's gooey pussy. *** Next morning, Aunt was gone from my bed. I heard her in the kitcjen, downstairs. As I showered, I looked down at my simi-hard cock, trying to remember how many times I had come. The last I remembered we were spoon-fashioned with my throbbing cock deep inside her. I must have gone to sleep that way. I wondered when she got up. Had she spent the night with me inside her? How would Aunt look on our little session of the night before when we had to face each other in the light of day? I entered the kitchen. Aunt stood at the stove, scrambling eggs, humming happily. Evidently she had heard me in the bathroom and timed things perfectly. She turned as I pulled out a chair. A question flickered briefly in her eyes. "She murmured, "Good morning." "Good morning." I looked out the window. "Another pretty day." "Yes." Maybe I should rake the leaves in the back yard." "That would be nice." She brought my plate with the eggs, a piece of ham and toast. She poured my tea. "Aren't you eating?" Aunt turned away. "I ate already. I always wake up when the sun comes up." "Oh, so early?" "Well, I have to get busy. I have things to do in the other room." That was the bulk of our conversation. Obviously Aunt did not want to talk about what had happened between us. Not yet. But I was sure she had been humming happily when I entered the kitchen. Aunt Frankie It's odd how you tell one car from another just by sound, but I knew it was Aunt Em when I heard the car pull into the driveway. She's not actually my aunt. She and Mom were college roommates and have been joined-at-the-hip best friends ever since. Her parents stuck her with the name Frances Marie. Everyone calls her Marie except Mom, who calls her Frankie. I couldn't say Aunt Frankie or Aunt Marie when I was young so she was always Aunt Em to me until recently. Now I call her Frankie, the way Mom does. She has her own key, so there was no reason for me to wait at the door for her but I like watching her. Tall for a woman at 5'11". Slender, but still a woman's body, well toned from running and swimming, both of which she did at least 4 times a week. Fair complexion, grey eyes, light brown hair, just past shoulder length, often in a pony tail or french roll. Firm, medium sized breasts that, even at 41, need little support. She's attractive, pleasant looking rather than pretty, and has the calmest, most wonderful personality. When she smiles it lights up her face and the world around her. My Mom, Carol, is a startling contrast when you see the two of them together. Mom has black eyes and a dusky complexion, her black hair cut to just below her ears. Mom's not short at 5'6", but that 5" difference looks like more when they stand side by side. And she's not as slender as Frankie. She's not an ounce overweight but she has more of an hourglass figure, with larger breasts. Mom's prettier than Frankie, until Frankie smiles anyway. I think Mom's stunning, but she's my Mom. I would think that. After Frankie's husband, Mike, died from cancer, almost 3 years ago now, she spent a lot of time at our house. It was somewhere to come when she needed someone to talk to, or when she just wanted company, or someone to hold her while she cried. As often as not, that someone was me, since that was about the same time as my folks were getting a divorce, and it was a hard time for my Mom as well. The divorce was messy and many times I also held my Mom while she cried. Mom and Frankie eventually got through the rough times, and they are still their own mutual support group. Just like in college. About 9 months after Mike's death, Frankie decided she couldn't live in what had been their home for 15 years, so she rented it out and moved in with us for a while. She never left. No reason to. After all, she's family. When Frankie saw me waiting at the door, she smiled and hurried her pace a little coming up the walk. As she walked through the doorway, she gave me a peck on the cheek. I closed the door behind her, sliding an arm around her waist as I did, then pulled her against me as I tipped my head down to kiss her. Frankie's mouth opened under mine with a soft sigh as her arms went around me. I caressed her back, then slid my hands down to the small of her back, pressing her groin tightly against mine, causing her to moan softly. When the kiss ended, I moved my arms up to hug her tightly, then slid my hands back down to her waist as she lay her head on my shoulder. We stood like that for a few moments, not speaking. "Where's Carol?" Frankie asked, leaning back to look up at me, without moving out of my arms. "She called and said she had to stop at the market. She'll be here in a few minutes." "Oh, well," she said, laying her head back on my shoulder and giving me a hug, "I guess we'll have to wait." "Just as well," I replied, "I just got back from running and I need a shower." "Why? You're just going to get sweaty again later," Frankie teased. "And it'll be a lot more fun." I said. "Or you could come shower with me now." "And have Carol walk in on us?" "That'd be cozy," I said, "my shower's too small for 3 people." Frankie chuckled as she poked me in the ribs. "Go," she said. "Get thyself clean." I went. About 15 minutes later, wearing just a pair of cutoff sweat pants, I walked down the stairs and into the den. Mom and Frankie had opened a bottle of wine and were sitting on together on the sofa, turned slightly to face each other, laughing about something. I walked up behind the sofa and put my hands on Mom's shoulders, squeezing them gently. "Hi, Mom," I said, as I leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Hi, honey," she replied, snaking her right hand up and around my head to hold me there as she turned her head, then pulled me down so she could kiss me. Her lips parted as I probed with my tongue, then she opened her mouth to mine as I pressed it firmly against hers. My left hand slid down, under the neckline of her blouse and inside her bra to cup her right breast, squeezing it gently as my palm caressed her nipple. Frankie slid off the sofa to kneel in front of Mom and slid her hands under Mom's skirt. Mom slid forward on the sofa so her bottom was at the edge, then lifted her hips so Frankie could pull her panties off, then spread her knees as Frankie began kissing up the inside of Mom's thigh until her face was buried between Mom's legs. Mom was moving her hips to match the strokes of Frankie's tongue, as Frankie quickly brought her to climax. When her breathing was under control, Mom said "I guess we have 2 choices. We can go upstairs and get in bed so we can do this more comfortably, or we can have supper." "I thought you said there were 2 choices," Frankie said. We went upstairs. * * * Three years ago I answered my cell phone on the first ring. I'd left the library and was getting in my car when I realized I'd forgotten to turn the ringer back on. I'd just done that when it rang, startling me. When I looked at caller ID, a chill of premonition ran up my back. Mom never calls me in the middle of the afternoon. "Hi, Mom" "Hi, honey. I need a really big favor." Another chill. "Mike?" "Yes. The hospital called just a couple of minutes ago. They don't expect him to make it through the night." Mike is Aunt Em's husband. About two years ago he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He'd already outlived the year and a bit that the doctors had told him he had left. Now it looked as if he'd finally run his race. This time when he went into the hospital, we all knew he wouldn't be going home again. When she's not at work or the hospital, Aunt Em has been spending most nights at our house. It's a big place and we have two guest bedrooms with their own bathrooms, so the larger one just became Aunt Em's room. "What do you want me to do?" "Frankie rode with me this morning. Can you come pick her up and take her to the hospital? Joyce is going to cover for us the rest of the day, but I need about an hour to get one project finished." "I'm in the parking lot, so . . . fifteen minutes? A tick less if I make all the lights." "Thanks, honey. See you in a bit." I made it in thirteen minutes. I hurried into the office. Jenny, the receptionist, just pointed at Aunt Em's office. I found her sitting behind her desk, not moving, staring at her computer screen. I walked around her desk and put a hand on each arm, urging her to stand up. She did, turning to face me. I moved her chair to the side with my foot and pulled her to me, hugging her tightly as she buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed. I held her head against my shoulder with one hand while I gently stroked her back with the other. Aunt Em lifted her head and looked at me. "I thought I was ready," she said. "We talked it out. He's in so much pain. We knew it was time." She paused, then buried her face in my shoulder again. "I thought I was ready." "Aunt Em," I said softly, "you'd never be ready for this. You've been inseparable since before I was born. There's no way you could get ready." Just then, Mom walked into Aunt Em's office. She came over and hugged both of us, then stood up on tiptoe to kiss my cheek. "Thanks, honey. You two go on. I'll be there as soon as I can." Twenty minutes later we were in Mike's hospital room. Gone was the tall, gentle giant I'd known when I was growing up. 6'5" and down to less than 150 pounds. His face was drawn, but calm. A difficult feat considering how much pain we knew he was in. The pain meds barely took the edge off anymore, but he was maxed out. The government wouldn't let the doctors prescribe larger or more frequent doses because Big Brother didn't want him becoming an addict. Aunt Em sat on the edge of his bed, holding his hand, stroking his forehead, crying silently, tears coursing down her cheeks. Mike looked at her and managed a smile, then turned to look at me. "Hey, short stuff," he rasped. He'd started calling me that about time I learned to walk. He and Aunt Em couldn't have children but we couldn't have been closer if he'd been my real father. I was still three inches shorter than he, but had a couple of more years to grow. Had he lived and had I ended up taller than him, I'd still been 'short stuff.' "Hi, Uncle Mike." "Looks like I'm going to miss your graduation," he said. "I'd liked to have seen that." It took him a while to get all of that out. It tied my stomach in knots, knowing how hard it was; how much effort it cost him. I just nodded. I couldn't say anything as my throat choked up and my eyes brimmed with tears. Mom came in about half an hour later. She walked to the other side of the bed from Aunt Em and kissed Mike's forehead. I stood beside her, my arm around her waist as we sort of supported each other. Mike closed his eyes and seemed to doze off. A while later, he opened them and looked at Aunt Em. "I'm ready," he gasped, then looked at me and nodded. I nodded back then when to find his doctor. Everything had been signed a while ago. All that was left was for Aunt Em to tell the doctor to turn off the life support. I asked the head floor nurse to call the doctor, then went back to Mike's room. Mom was standing behind Aunt Em, her hands on Aunt Em's shoulders. The doctor came into the room in less than ten minutes, two nurses trailing him. He took Mike's vitals, then looked at Aunt Em, asking, "are you sure?" Aunt Em, despair clear on her face, nodded, then said, "Yes. Please remove the life support." The formalities having been observed, Aunt Em turned to Mom and sobbed into her shoulder as Mom's arms went around her. The doctor didn't actually remove the equipment, except for the breathing tube. He just turned it off, then he and the nursed moved across the room to stand near the door, giving us as much privacy as they could. About twenty minutes later, Mike opened his eyes and looked at Aunt Em. Aunt Em squeezed his hand and leaned close. "It's been a privilege loving you," he rasped, struggling to speak. Then he closed his eyes for the last time. A few minutes later he died. Mike's funeral was a week later. Aunt Em spent that week at our house. Mom took as much time off as she could, but I spent most of every day with her. My high school graduation was still just over a month away, but I'd taken my finals early and was just marking time. I had to spend one hour a day at school to satisfy some rule about attendance, but other than that, there was nothing I had to do that was more important than being there when Aunt Em needed me. After that, Aunt Em usually spent Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights at our place, so she wouldn't be alone on the weekends, and the other nights at her place. I spent 3 or 4 days a month at her place, usually on weekends, keeping the landscaping under control, and doing the other little chores that pile up when you own a house. Aunt Em wasn't sleeping well, and she hadn't been since Mike's death, so even when there wasn't anything that needed doing around her house, I'd stop by every day after she got home from work to see if she needed anything. Usually we just sat and talked, ate dinner, then talked some more, or watched television or a movie. If we had wine, Aunt Em didn't want me to drive, so I'd spend the night in the guest room. I knew she still wasn't sleeping because I'd hear her tossing and turning, and sometimes I'd hear her crying. Near the end of the summer, Aunt Em stopped spending every weekend with us, but Mom or I still stopped by her home every day, just to check on her. She still spent a couple of nights each week at our place. When I started school in the fall, I stopped by 2 or 3 times a week. If Mom wasn't going to be home, I'd spend the evening with Aunt Em. I could study there just as well as I could at home, but that way neither of us was alone. After dinner, if I didn't have to study, Aunt Em usually would sit next to me on the sofa. We had fallen into that pattern when she was staying with us. She'd start to cry and Mom or I would comfort her. Since it was summer, and I hadn't started college yet, most of the time I was the one who was there. At some point, Aunt Em sort of settled on me being the one to hold her when she needed holding. Near the end of the fall quarter, Mom called to tell me she had a last minute meeting that was going to run late. She and Aunt Em had ridden to the office together in Mom's car, and Mom asked if I'd stop by to pick Aunt Em up and take her home. I had Mom transfer me to Aunt Em to see if she wanted to go out for dinner. We went to a small steakhouse frequented. As Eduardo, our waiter, walked away with our orders, I noticed that Aunt Em's eyes were shining with unshed tears as she stared blindly, not looking at me, or anywhere for that matter. Just staring. She seemed fragile, as if she was holding herself together, but only barely. As if she was running out of the strength it took to do it. "Do you want to leave?" I asked her. She didn't say anything for a moment, then blinked and looked at me, shaking her head. "I'll be ok," she said. "I was just remembering the last time Mike was here with us. It was your birthday. Being here with you just reminded me. That's all." After dinner, I drove Aunt Em home. I parked in the driveway, gout out of the car and walked around to open her door and offered her my arm as we walked to the front door. "It's still early," she said, her voice breaking, "could you stay a while?" I slid one arm around her waist, and pulled her head into my shoulder with the other as she turned to face me. "I was going to ask you if I could," I said. "What I had in mind was some of that butter brickle ice-cream you have in the fridge, and it wouldn't be polite to eat and run." "Liar," she said, smiling at me weakly. "You were going to take care of me whether I asked or not." Busted. I didn't say anything. Nothing to say. "Weren't you?" she said, punching me on the arm. "Yes, ma'am." Aunt Em changed into one of those long tee shirts, the ones that reach just past mid-thigh, that some women wear as house dresses, and nightgowns, and bathrobes, and etc. Sort of the female equivalent of men and their tee shirts and sweat pants. After the ice cream and some coffee, I put a movie in the player and turned the TV on. We sat together on the couch watching it, Aunt Em's head tipped sideways to rest on my shoulder. A while later, around 9:00, I realized Aunt Em was staring at the television but wasn't watching it, so I reached for the remote and snapped the TV off as I lifted my other arm to put it around her shoulder. With a long, soft moan that tore at my heart she buried her face in the hollow of my shoulder and started crying. Sobs wracked her. I put my other arm around her and hugged her as she cried. Grief affects people differently. I think this was the first time she had really cried for Mike. There had been many small episodes, but Aunt Em kept her grief inside as well as she could when people were around. I'd heard her crying at night when I'd been here and when she stayed with us, but always when she was alone, and never for very long. She cried for a long time. I just held her, occasionally caressing her hair, but mostly just holding her. I was proud that I was the one she chose to be with when she could no longer hold it inside. I was also ashamed of that pride. And, try as I might, and I really tried, I couldn't completely ignore the fact that her warm, firm breasts were pressed against my chest and that it was making me hard. A long time later, her crying slowed, then eventually stopped. When she stopped crying, she sat up, wiped her eyes and nose with tissue, kissed my cheek, turned her body until her back was toward me then lifted her legs onto the couch and lay back across me, her head now supported by my left arm as I held her the way you hold an infant. She pulled my right arm across her body, just below her breasts, turned her face into my chest as she slid her left arm around my waist, gave a deep sigh and was asleep almost immediately. A while later I worked my cell phone out of my pocket and called Mom. Caller ID showed her who was calling. "Hi, honey," she said when she answered. "What's up.?" "Aunt Em's asleep. Really asleep," I said, keeping my voice low. "We went to dinner and were watching a movie. She started to cry, and she cried for a really long time, then just fell asleep." "Can you stay there with her tonight?" Mom asked. "Right now I don't have a choice. She's lying in my lap. I'll let her sleep for a while then wake her up so she can go to bed. Then I'll come home." "Could you just stay? I'd really appreciate it. I don't want her to be alone when she wakes up." "Sure, Mom. I'll take care of her. Goodnight." "Goodnight, honey. Thank you. It means a lot to me." About an hour later, Aunt Em stirred in her sleep, so I figured it was a good time to move. I slid out from under her and put a throw pillow under her head, then got a real pillow and the comforter from her bed to cover her. I swapped the throw pillow for the one from her bed and tucked the comforter around her. I grabbed another pillow and comforter from the guest room and stretched out on the floor near the couch. The carpet was a lot softer than some of the places I slept when I was camping as a kid, so it didn't take me very long to fall asleep. The next morning, I awoke before dawn, around 6:30. Aunt Em was still asleep. She'd been asleep almost nine hours, but when I checked on her she seemed to be okay. She was just sleeping. I went into the kitchen to make myself some coffee and breakfast. Just as I was finishing, I saw Mom pull into the driveway. She came in carrying my gym bag. "Hi, honey," she said, giving me a hug. "How's Frankie?" "Still asleep," I said, "but I think she's ok. I think it's just that it's been such a long time since she's had any real sleep instead of just napping." "I brought you some clean underwear, sox, a couple of changes of clothes, a toothbrush and some other things," Mom said, putting the bag on the table and heading toward Aunt Em's bedroom. "She's still on the sofa," I told her. Mom tried to change direction in mid-stride and stumbled a little. Catching her balance, she looked at me with a small grin, then walked into the living room with me following her. Mom adjusted the comforter around Aunt Em, and stroked her cheek. Aunt Em stirred, opened her eyes to look at Mom, smiled gently, then closed her eyes as was instantly asleep again. Mom hugged me, kissed my cheek. "Thank you, sweetheart," she whispered on my ear then took my hand and pulled me into the kitchen. "Can you stay with her for a couple of days?" she asked as we sat down at the table. "I would, but things are kind of hectic at the office and I don't think we can both be out at the same time right now." Mom paused, looking thoughtful, then continued, "Or when she wakes us, take her home with you. She can stay with us for as long as she wants, and that way you wouldn't miss any classes." "I'd still have to stay with her," I said. "Otherwise she'd be just as alone there as she is here." Aunt Frankie "Duh!," Mom said. "I guess I'll leave taking care of her to you and go do what I do." "You do just fine in the taking care department, Mom. You just got a lot of strain right now too. Anyway, I don't have any classes this week. Exams are next week so it's all review. I've only got 2 classes left to study for and I've got everything I need in my laptop." "Okay," she said, looking at her watch as she stood up. "I've got to get going. Call me if you need anything," "I will," I told her, rising as well. "Thanks. Again," Mom said hugging me, her head in the hollow of my shoulder, her firms breasts pressing into my chest. First Aunt Em lying in my lap, then Mom pressing her magnificent body against me. I'd better get a girl friend soon, before I die of frustration. Maybe I could lie to some of the freshmen girls about my age. The ones that I hadn't gone to high school with. Mom hugged me even more tightly for several seconds then surprised me by lifting herself on tiptoe to kiss me on the mouth. Not a deep, open mouth kiss, but more than a peck. Aaarrrggh. "Call me if you need something," she said, heading out the door. That evening, I'd finished studying, cleaned the kitchen, cleaned bedrooms and cleaned the bathrooms, none of which needed cleaning, and was watching television with the sound off. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aunt Em stir. She turned over and stretched, then lay her head back down and looked at me. "Hi," she said. "How long did I sleep?" I glanced at the mantle clock. "Almost 21 hours," I said, getting up and walking to the couch. Aunt Em slid back on the couch and patted it, silently asking me to sit down. "How do you feel?" I asked, sitting down, caressing her hair. "Better?" "Tired. Yes." "Do you want something to eat?" I asked. "I'm not really hungry," she replied, "but I probably should eat something. Here," she said, starting to remove the comforter, "let me up and I'll make something." "No," I said. "You're going to stay right there. If you're not all that hungry, how about some soup?" I heated the soup and added some croutons to it while I steeped a cup of tea. When it was ready, I put the soup and tea on a bed tray with a large glass of water and carried it back to the living room. Aunt Em had dozed off, so I put the tray on the end table then sat next to her and shook her shoulder to wake her. She smiled at me when she opened her eyes, looking at me sleepily. "I fell asleep again." "Eat. Then you should go to bed." She sat halfway up and propped herself against the end of the couch. I retrieved the tray and held it while she drank the water then reached for the spoon. When she fumbled it, I opened the legs on the tray and sat it down across her, then took the spoon from her and dipped in the bowl of soup and lifted it to her mouth. "I can feed myself," she semi-protested softly. "Not unless you can wrestle the spoon away from me," I replied. "Ok," she said, letting me put the spoon in her mouth so she could eat. She ate the entire bowl of soup and drank the tea. When she was finished, I carried the dishes into the kitchen, rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher then walked back into the living room. Aunt Em was dozing again, but perked up slightly when I sat down on the couch. "You held me last night. While I slept?" "Yes." Aunt Em looked at me for several moments. "Thank you. I think that's why I could sleep," she said. My pleasure, I thought to myself. "Let's get you to bed," I said, reaching for her hand and pulling her to her feet as I rose. She was a little unsteady on her feet, so I put my arm around her waist as we walked to her bedroom. "I need to use the bathroom and take a shower," she said. "Will you be ok?" "I'll be fine. I'll holler if I need something." A while later I heard the shower stop, so I waited a couple of minutes then knocked on the bedroom door. "Come on in," I heard Aunt Em say. She was tucked under the covers, looking freshly scrubbed but tired. "Can you stay one more night?" she asked. "I don't want to be alone in the house." "Mom brought me some stuff this morning. I was planning to stay a couple of days, then I'm supposed to talk you into coming to our place for a couple of weeks. We could actually go over there anytime, but when I talked to Mom this afternoon, she thought maybe you need to catch up a little more on your sleep. Nuestra casa es su casa, but Mom thinks even that little change might mess with your being able to sleep if you do it too soon. She thinks Saturday is a good compromise. She says since neither of you have anywhere to be on Sunday, if all else fails the two of you can get drunk and I can tuck you in when you pass out." Tears welled up in Aunt Em's eyes as she sat up to hug me, forgetting she was nude, at least from the waist up. The bed covers slipped, revealing her breasts. I caught myself before I actually gasped, but it put my hormones into overdrive. Unembarrassed or simply unaware, Aunt Em hugged me tightly and kissed my mouth, a soft, innocent, childlike kiss, before laying back down and pulling the covers up. "Thanks, honey. Could you hold me until I get to sleep?" "Sure," I said, grabbing the extra pillow then turning around to lie back against the headboard, putting the pillow between me and the headboard to soften it. Aunt Em shifted in the bed until her head was lying on my chest. I put my arm around her, holding her tightly, her breasts pressed against me through the covers. She sighed deeply and closed eyes. About half an hour later, when I was sure Aunt Em was asleep, I extricated myself and got off the bed. Pulling the covers to her chin, I leaned over to kiss her cheek. Knowing she wouldn't hear me, I still whispered in her ear, "Sleep well. I'll be here if you need anything." I know - melodramatic. But what the hell. It's not every day I get to play at being a hero. I spent the next 3 hours studying before I started yawning. It wasn't all that late, but apparently sleeping on the floor was not as restful at the advanced age of 16 as it was when I was a kid. I toddled off to the guest bedroom, cleaned my teeth, debated sleeping in the nude the way I usually do, then opted to sleep in my boxers in case Aunt Em needed something in the middle of the night. A sound woke me. Glancing at the clock I saw it was a little after midnight. I'd been asleep a couple of hours. I started to get up to check on Aunt Em when I realized she was standing by the bed. She'd put on another of her long tee shirts. "Aunt Em," I said, "is anything wrong?" "No. It's just that I woke up and can't get back to sleep. You said you'd be here if I needed anything." She'd heard that? "Could you come and sit with me a while?" "Sure." I got up and we walked back to her room. She crawled under the covers, and I lay down on top of them, as I had earlier, propped myself against the headboard again and covered myself with the comforter. Aunt Em again lay her head on my chest, my arm around her shoulder. I caressed her head, running my fingers through her hair. She hummed softly with pleasure. A few minutes later, her regular breathing told me she was asleep. Seeing no point in going back to the guest room, I lay there holding Aunt Em until I fell asleep. Sometime later I woke and realized I had managed to slide down on the bed. I was spooning with Aunt Em through a layer of bed clothes. My face was buried in her hair, her firm butt pressed solidly against my groin, my arm around her with my hand cupping one of her warm, firm yet wonderfully soft breasts. Her hand was over mine, holding it in place. I was as hard as I've ever been in my life. Reluctantly, I shifted away from her slightly and started to pull my hand away, which woke Aunt Em. "Unt Unnh," she groaned softly, holding my hand in place as she wriggled her butt until she was firmly pressed against me again. "Doan move," she slurred, not quite awake. "Yes, ma'am," I whispered. "I'm yours to command." "Uum hmmm," she replied, dropping off to sleep again. When I awoke the next morning, I was alone in Aunt Em's bed. I realized she hadn't been gone long because the bed was still warm where she had lain in it. I saw that her bathroom door was closed and realized where she had gone. It also reminded what had awakened me so I got up and went into the guest bathroom to take care of my own morning needs. Finished with those chores, I stuck my head around the door jamb to Aunt Em's bedroom and saw her standing near the window, staring out blindly. I walked up behind her and put my hands on her waist. She stepped backward, leaning her entire body against me, laying her head back on my shoulder as she grasped my hands and pulled them around her until I was hugging her waist. We stood that way a few moments then Aunt Em turned in my arms, put her arms around my neck and leaned up to kiss me, a chaste, gentle kiss. But filled with promise. I made breakfast for us, Aunt Em sitting at the kitchen table watching me. It was a pleasant, companionable meal. I insisted she let me clean up after the meal, then we sat drinking coffee, chatting about inconsequential things for almost an hour. Aunt Em's pantry was getting low on a lot of things so we made a list then went to the market. When we had returned and stowed the several bags of groceries, staples and other goodies, Aunt Em asked if I would take a walk with her. We walked almost a mile to a local park, strolled around the park twice then sat down and watched some kids playing. A little while later, Aunt Em started to yawn, caught herself, and smiled at me ruefully. "I guess I'm not caught up yet," she said. We walked back to her house, where I made her a light lunch. After cleaning up, I reached for her hand and led her to her bedroom. I sat her down on the edge of the bed and gave her a quick peck on her mouth. Playfully, I pushed her sideways and theatrically she toppled onto her side, laying her head on her pillow, a small grin on her face. I lifted her legs, removed her shoes and placed her legs on the bed. She scooted toward the middle of the bed, patting the mattress to tell me she wanted me to lay down beside her. I covered her with the comforter then kicked my shoes off and lay down beside her. We wiggled a bit until she was tucked inside my arm, her head on my shoulder. "Stay with me until I'm asleep? Please?" "Of course. And I'll be here somewhere when you wake up. Probably studying," I said. She stretched up to kiss my cheek then lay her head back on my shoulder. A few minutes later, Aunt Em reached for my hand where it was draped on her shoulder and pulled it down under the covers to cup her breast through her tee shirt, holding it there with her hand. She wasn't wearing a bra. I was instantly hard. I thought I felt her smile against my chest just before she let out a huge sigh and drifted off to sleep. When I was sure she was fully asleep I pulled my arm from around her and rose from the bed. I adjusted the covers over her then went into the living room. I put the stereo on low, fired up my laptop and spent the next couple of hours studying. When Aunt Em came out of her bedroom in the middle of the afternoon, she looked better than she had in months. She looked refreshed, her eyes were clear and the haggard, drawn look she had worn since Mike's death was gone. I knew she'd grieve for him for a long time, and go to her grave loving him. But now she looked as if she would be able to handle that grief. We chatted briefly then Aunt Em went into her home office to make some phone calls. A while later, coming back from the bathroom, I overheard part of her conversation with Mom. "Actually I'm much better. It's been a blessing having him here. I'm sleeping and eating again. . . ." Aunt Em smiled at me as she saw me pass the door. I didn't hear the rest of the conversation as I moved out of earshot. A few minutes later, Aunt Em came out of her office and sat on the couch. "That was Carol," she said. "I guessed. I heard part of it when I walked by" "She's got that meet and greet tonight. She said she's cover for me so I'm going to skip it. Tomorrow, I'll pack enough stuff to spend a couple of weeks with the two of you. I think Carol's right. It'll be good for me to get away from here for a few days." "As long as you want. And I know it will be good for Mom to have you there." I said. "So what do you want to do for dinner? No cooking tonight. I don't think I have that much stamina yet, and you've done more than you share for a while. How about Italian? La Trattoria?" "You ask that like there's a chance I'd say no," I said, grinning at her. There was about as much chance of me passing up Italian food as there is of me missing my mouth with a spoonful of ice cream. Dinner was pleasant. The food was good, and it was nice to see Aunt Em relaxing, without the stress she had been carrying for the last few months. Aunt Em passed on wine with dinner since I couldn't have any but when we got back to her place, she opened a bottle then went to change while I chose a movie and put it in the DVD player. We'd agreed that brainless was what we both needed. She didn't want to do or watch anything that required thinking and my brain was temporarily fried from all the studying I been doing while she had been catching up on her sleep. I sat down in the corner of the couch and started the movie as Aunt Em sat down next to me. I put my arm around her and she leaned her head sideways to rest it in the hollow of my shoulder. About half an hour and a glass of wine into the movie, she shifted slightly and leaned her body against me then reached for my had and pulled it down to her breast. She'd changed into a button down the front house dress. If she'd worn a bra when we went to dinner, she'd taken it off. The only thing between my hand and her warm breast was the thin fabric of her dress. I gently caressed her breast. It felt wonderful. "We need to talk." she said. "Talk?" I replied, cluelessly. "I'm been teasing you. A little, not all the time, but a little. I'm not teasing you now. This feels wonderful," she said, brushing my hand with hers. "I miss Mike so much it's a constant ache. And I miss making love with him. I miss the physical intimacy. But I couldn't stand myself if I just went out and found some guy just to take care of my urges. I didn't mean for any of this to happen, but the other night, when you held me while I cried, I felt . . . comfortable? . . .No. Safe. Protected. You weren't after anything, you just wanted to help." She paused for several moments. "Please don't misunderstand this," she continued, a pleading note in he voice. "I know who you are. I know you're not Mike, and I'm not mixing the two of you up, but when you hold me it's sort of like Mike is still here, taking care of me. Please don't be insulted when I compare you to Mike." "You couldn't insult me by comparing me to Mike," I told her. "You don't have to stop there," she said, pressing my hand tightly against her breast. "You can have all of me if you want," she said, looking at me with a odd expression. Not desperation, exactly. Concern?, Maybe; or hope. "Do you?" she asked "More or less continuously for the last few years," I said, releasing her breast and using that hand to lift her chin so I could kiss her. Long and deeply, but gently, hinting at but not yet surrendering to the passion that was rising in both of us. "I'm not being flip," I continued when the kiss was over. "I love you. You're as much my mom as Mom is and it's true what they say about guys wanting to sleep with their mothers. I know I'm just a kid, but I think I know the difference between love and lust. And I love you. As much as I love Mom. And Oedipus is alive and well and sitting right here next to you on this couch." She grinned at that, then reached up to pull my head down for another long kiss that started gently but quickly turned passionate. "I've never . . ." I started, when the kiss ended, then stopped. Started over. "It's my first time," I told her, "I don't really know what to do. Only what I've read." "I know the trouble you have getting dates," she said. "Always the youngest in your class. And now, being the youngest freshman on campus, I guess there aren't many girls at school who want to go out with you when they find out," she said, then paused, looking at me. "I loved Mike with all my heart. I still do and I'd give anything to have him back, but he was very traditional about sex. I was his first and only. Except for a few experiments with Carol in college, I didn't have much experience either. After I met Mike I've never been with anyone else. Then with him being sick for so long it's been a while so be gentle the first time. The first time. Not always. You'll probably know when. We can take as much time as you need. I'll teach you what little I know and we can learn the rest of it together." She smiled at me as she stood up, tugging on my hand. A gentle, loving smile. I stood then pulled her close, holding her against me as we kissed again before she took my hand in hers and led me to her bedroom. I sat on the bed and pulled her to me, to stand between my legs. I unbuttoned her dress, then pressed my face against her skin, kissing and gently licking her stomach as I pushed her panties down so she could step out of them. "You sure you've never done this?" she asked quietly. "Only in my dreams. About you as often as not." "And your mom?" she asked, tipping my chin up so she could look into my face. I blushed. "Yeah, her too." Aunt Em leaned down to give me a soft kiss, then stood back up. I stood as she did, then slid her dress off her shoulders and down her arms, letting it fall as I traced her neck with my fingers, trailed them down her throat to the top of her breasts. Aunt Em arched her back, pressing herself against my hand. I turned her and lay her on the bed then quickly undressed and lay beside her. Starting at her hip, I caressed up her side then under her breasts and down across her stomach, running my fingers through her pubic hair to caress her slit with my finger. As I did, I leaned over to suck and kiss her breasts, avoiding her nipples for several minutes. When I finally licked her nipple, Aunt Em sucked her breath in sharply and pulled my face against her. Leaving her breasts, I rolled her onto her stomach and moved down to kiss the back of her knees, then moved to her ankles and began kissing my way up the back of her legs, across her rump and up her spine to her shoulders, then turned her over. "I thought you'd never done this," she whispered. "But I've read about it," I smiled down at her. "And dreamed about it." I kissed between her breasts, then down across her stomach again. As I did, Aunt Em bent her legs at the knees, and spread her legs. I could smell her scent. Kissing lower, I moved between her legs. I licked and sucked at her labia, then spread then with my fingers as I lick from the base of her slit to the top, then circled her clit several times before licking it's tip. When I did, Aunt Em lifted her hips, pressing herself against my face as her body shook when a long, trembling orgasm coursed through her. When she finally settled back onto the bed, she pulled me up for a long, tender kiss. "Thank you," she said softly. "Mike couldn't do that. He tried a couple of times but he just couldn't." Aunt Em kissed me briefly then she started moving down my chest and across my stomach as she pushed my legs apart and slid her body between them, moving down until her face was buried in my hair. Aunt Em raised her face and kissed the tip of my cock. She took me in her mouth and I groaned with pleasure, but I reached for her head and pulled her off of me. When she looked up at me, I shook my slightly then pulled her up to kiss her. Aunt Frankie "I want my first tine to be the two of us, together." Aunt Em rolled onto her back and spread her legs. As I knelt between them, she reached for my arms to pull me down onto her. As I kissed her, she reached between us and guided me into her. She bent her knees, opening herself wider, then hooked her ankles over my legs. With a slow, steady thrust I buried myself in her. Her mouth on me had been wonderful. There are no words to describe how good this felt. I stroked in and out of Aunt Em, her hips rising to meet my thrusts as she used her legs for leverage to hold our bodies together. In a very few minutes I felt my climax approaching. With my inexperience, I couldn't tell about Aunt Em but I found her mouth with mine and kissed her deeply as I spurted deeply inside of her. It was not until a long time later, after much experimenting and practicing that we fell asleep, me spooned against her back and marvelous bottom, my arm around her, her hand again holding mine against her breast. I woke to the chirping of birds. It was barely dawn. I was lying on my back. I turned my head to look at Aunt Em. The dim morning light, filtered by the curtains, lit Aunt Em's face while she slept, lying on her side facing me, her body pressed against mine, her arm across my stomach. I reached up to gently caress her face. "I'm not asleep," she said, opening her eyes. "I was just too comfortable to move when I woke up. And I like the feel of you against me." I shifted onto my side, facing her, then put my arm around her to hold her while I kissed her. Her nipples were firm, brushing against my chest, our pelvises gently grinding against each other, her top leg hooked over my hip. We made slow, gentle love for a long time. Later, I was lying on my side stroking Aunt Em as she lay on her stomach, her face turned away from me. I caressed her from her neck, down her spine to the top of her marvelous butt, then back up one side of her back to her neck. Then I did the same thing again with the other side of her back. Every so often she would hum with pleasure. After a while I couldn't resist anymore, so I slid my hand down to caress the ass that had caused so many fantasies over the last few years. When I slid my hand down her crack the side of my little finger brushed across her rosebud. Aunt Em lifted her head and turned to face me, then lay it back down. One hand reached behind her to grasp my wrist. "Honey," she said, "That much feels really good, but would it be okay if you don't do any more than that?" "I'm sorry," I said. "I won't do it again. I just wanted to rub your butt. I've had fantasies about it since I saw you in that yellow two piece swimsuit your wore at the pool party for Mom's birthday when I was 13." "I'm not reneging," she said. "I'll do anything your want. If you want me there, you can have me, but would it be okay if we don't do it that way?" "Aunt Em, I don't want to do anything you don't want to. I'm not interested in just having sex with you. From what little I know, I think that women don't enjoy that and it can hurt. If we won't both enjoy what we do, I don't even want to try it. And even if you would let me, I won't do anything that hurts you." Tears brimming in her eyes, she rolled onto her side, pulled me close and kissed me, a long, gentle kiss. "You can rub my butt anytime you want," she said, then with an impish gleam in her eye that I had not seen for a for a very long time, "but when you do it in public you better make sure no one is looking." Much later, Aunt Em made breakfast for us. She'd slipped on one of her long tee shirts. It was enough to cover her so I could keep my hands off of her while she made breakfast. Mostly, anyway. After we ate, instead of using the dishwasher we did the dishes, Aunt Em washing, me drying. As she was putting everything away in the cupboard, I stepped up behind her, slipping my hands around her waist, pressing my groin against her butt ass as I kissed her neck below her ear, nuzzling her. I was sure she could feel my hardness pressing into her. "You're incorrigible. It's only been a little over an hour," she said, a smile in her voice. "I know," I replied, "but it's been over an hour." "I've created a monster," Aunt Em said with a theatrical sigh, turning in my arms and reaching around my neck to pull my head down for a kiss. "I guess I'd better see if I can tame it." Just then the phone rang. Aunt Em looked at the caller ID. "It's Carol," she said. Picking up the handset, she turned around and leaned back against me. Her free hand reached for my hand and pulled up to her breast. I nuzzled her neck again. "Hi, Carol." She listened a few moments. "No, I'm just putting the dishes away." She listened some more. "He's taking good care of me. I feel wonderful. I slept and slept and slept. When I woke up Thursday, he fed me some soup and tea then I slept some more. I woke up yesterday morning but it's kind of a blur. I took a nap in the afternoon and we went to La Trattoria for dinner. We got back about 8:30, watched a movie and went to bed. I slept some more. That's about it." She paused, listening. "No, he's up." An evil grin crossed her face as she reached back between us and brushed her hand across my erection. "We just finished breakfast and cleaning up. I gave him the morning off, so I cooked." I was now cupping a breast in each hand, still nuzzling Aunt Em's neck as she talked. Her nipples were hard. I slid my left hand down and lifted the edge of her sleep tee, then cupped her vulva, my middle finger slipping into her slit, caressing her clit. She gasped slightly, putting her hand over mine, pressing my hand tightly against her groin. "No. It's nothing. Something started to slip but I caught it." She listened a moment. "Yes. He told me the plan. We're going to close my place up and we'll be there mid-afternoon." Another pause to listen. "Okay. We'll see you then. Love you." Aunt Em disconnected the call. "You scamp," she said, chuckling as she turned around to give me a quick kiss, then leaned back in my arms to look at me for several moments, a smile on her lips. "Well? You going to finish what you started?" * * * Several weeks later, I was sitting in the breakfast nook at home, halfway through my second cup of coffee when Mom came into the kitchen. "Morning, honey,"she said as she leaned over to kiss my cheek, then poured a cup of coffee for herself, topped mine off, and sat down across from me. "Aunt Em's here," I said. "She came over after you went to bed and decided to spend the night." She looked at me as she took a sip of her coffee, an odd look I didn't recognize on her face. "She sleep in her bed or yours?" Mom said, a wistful smile creasing her mouth. "I know about you and Frankie." "I thought you might," I replied. "My bed. But she's in her room now. You knowing and us parading it in front of you are different things. Especially right now. Does Curt know?" Curt's my father, but I no longer call him anything but Curt. "Good god, no," Mom said, "He's oblivious. To everything." Her eyes glistened with tears. I slid out of the seat, moved around the table and sat down next to her, putting an arm around her as she lay her head on my shoulder and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me against her. "If he knew anything," she said, "he'd of said something by now. Just to get back at you." "Good," I said. "It'd be inconvenient to have to finish what I started." * * * A few weeks ago Curt came home drunk. Again. He'd spent the afternoon drinking beer and watching football with his buddies as they relived their college triumphs. With me in the room, and maybe not the first time but certainly the last, Curt had slapped Mom. He hit her so hard he knocked her down. I reacted 'with prejudice.' I stepped up behind him, broke his balance by hitting him in the back of each knee with my knees, then forced him to the floor. I slid one arm around his throat and locked it in place in a modified carotid stranglehold that is almost impossible to break. When I squeezed, my arm pressed against his carotid artery. No more than 15 seconds to unconsciousness, and not all that long until death. People who think Judo is just Japanese wrestling don't know much about it. "Don't kill him," I heard Mom say with surprising calm. "He's not worth the annoyance it'd cause until it got straightened out." I released the pressure on Curt's carotid, but held the choke hold. "Can you hear me?" I asked him. He nodded slightly. That was as far as he could move. "It ends here," I said. "You can't take me. You're 50 pounds and hundreds of beers out of shape. You're bigger but I'm stronger. Lots stronger. I'm faster, and I know what I'm doing. And now you've made sure I'm meaner. You touch Mom again, I'll kill you. She trips on a crack in the sidewalk and breaks her arm, I'll figure it's your fault and I'll kill you. I won't spend more than a day in juvvie, and maybe not even that." I squeezed his neck for emphasis. "You'll be dead and I'll get away with it. In this state self-defense includes defending someone else, and everyone will be on my side, not yours. You understand me?" He nodded again, defeat clear in his body language, so I let go of his neck, backed away rose to my feet in a continuous motion, before he had a chance to do anything except rub his neck. When he got to his feet, I moved in front of him and crowded him to gave him a chance to change his mind, but he just turned and stumbled out of the room. He moved out of the house later that day. That afternoon was just the culmination of his years-long downhill slide. A college jock, he wasn't good enough for the pros and he never got past that, or the frat boy drinking binges. As he got older and found himself stuck in a well paying but dead end job, his drinking got worse. I didn't really understand much of that until around 4 years ago, about the time I turned 13. By then I'd learned to stay out of his way when he was drinking, which was often. Mom had one of her associate attorneys file for the divorce that week. * * * "You have to be careful," Mom said, bringing me back to the present. "I love Frankie like my own sister, and lord knows she needed more than just me to help her through the grieving, but if anyone finds out she'll go to jail. Being in college doesn't matter. You're still a minor and what you're doing is illegal for her." She paused, hugging me tightly. "I'm not telling you it's wrong or that you should stop, but you can't let anyone know. Not anyone. You understand? No one." I didn't say anything for several moments. Barely seventeen years old, and she'd just given me her blessing to sleep with her best friend. I tipped my head down to kiss her temple, just behind her eye. "I wouldn't tell anyone," I said. "I wouldn't do anything to get Aunt Em in trouble. I love her. Not getting married love - I'm not in love with her - well, maybe I am a little - but I love her the way I love you. It's like I have another mom. I'd never do anything to hurt her. Or you." "I know," Mom replied. "Just be careful. OK?" "We'll be careful, Mom," I said. "I promise. You know what that means." "I know, honey." Mom sat up pulled may head down to her chest, holding me tightly against her, my head pressed against her breasts as she hugged me. Not even close to being the first time, or even the first one hundredth time, my barely suppressed Oedipus complex surged through me. "Why don't you go wake her up?' Mom said. "See if she wants breakfast or something." It turned out Aunt Em wanted the or something. * * * A month or so later it was raining, and had been for several days. It was a Thursday, so my classes were over at 12:00, but it was ugly enough out that I decided to skip the library in favor of studying at home. Mom's car was in the garage when I got there. I hurried into the house, looking for her. She never takes time off, so I was concerned something had happened. She was in the den, sitting on the sofa staring into the fire. She turned when she heard me come in and gave me a wan smile. "Hi, honey. You're early." "It was too ugly to spend the afternoon on campus so I skipped the library. I can do everything here. Is anything wrong." "No. Not really. I'm just feeling down. This mess with your father. Frankie got tired of me moping and chased me out of the office, so I decided to take a few days off." I sat down next to her on the sofa and put my arm around her shoulders. She leaned against me, her head in the hollow of my shoulder as I stroked her hair. "Is there anything I can do?" I asked. "No," she said. "It's okay. I'll be alright. I just need some time off. But this is nice." She started to take a sip of her wine, then sat up and said, "Would you like a glass?" I've been drinking wine with her occasionally for over a year, but the imp in me reared it's mischievous head. "I'm too young to drink," I said. "You trying to corrupt me?" That got me a small grin. "You're too young to have sex with my best friend, too, but that hasn't stopped you," she said rising and walking to the wet bar. She poured me a glass and refilled hers. Moving back to the sofa, she handed me my glass then sat down, lifted my right arm to put it around her shoulder, and leaned against me. I tipped my head down and kissed her hair. We sipped our wine in comfortable silence for several minutes until Mom sat up to put her empty glass on the end table. Then she leaned back against me once again, shifting until her head was comfortably resting in the hollow of my shoulder again. I squeezed her gently as she gave a long, contented sigh. "This is nice," she murmured. I rested my head against the top of hers and stared into the fire. I realized I had dozed off when I felt Mom reach with her right hand to grasp mine. Pulling gently on my hand, she used her left hand to open her now unbuttoned blouse as she guided my hand inside it so I would cup her left breast. She wasn't wearing a bra. Surprised but enthralled, I gently caressed her breast for several minutes. Mom shifted carefully so she wouldn't dislodge my hand as she moved, and I put my left arm around her back to hold her as she turned, lifted her legs onto the sofa, and lay back across me as she reached behind my neck to pull me down to kiss me. Her mouth opened slightly as I pressed my mouth to hers and we shared a long, sweet, gentle kiss. When the kiss ended, Mom looked up at me for several seconds, her eyes glistening, her hand pressing mine against her breast. "You can have me too if you want me," she said softly, almost a whisper, looking at me with an expression I thought meant she was expecting to be rejected. "Only since I was 11," I replied, "but I can't hurt Aunt Em." Mom's expression changed to one of contented pleasure as she pulled me down to kiss me again. "You won't," she told me. "I said too, not instead of. She told me about your dreams. This was her idea. I wouldn't have had the nerve by myself." I leaned down to kiss her as I pulled my hand out of her blouse, then ran it down her side, over her hip and down her leg to her knee. I caressed her nylon covered leg for a moment then slid my hand between her knees and under her skirt. She parted her legs to make room for my hand as I caressed up the inside of her thigh. As I neared her vulva, I reversed direction and slid my hand back down her leg. Reaching her knee, I switched to her other leg and made the same slow journey. This time I didn't stop. When I reached her vulva, I used one finger to trace the outline of her labia through her panties and pantyhose. Mom was thrusting hips against my hand slightly, trying to increase the pressure of my hand against her. I slid my hand out from under Mom's skirt, then traced her face with my fingers. She reached for the button on her skirt and started to unbutton it. I reached for her hand and stopped her. "Not here," I whispered. "This has to be special for you. For us." Mom slid out of my lap and stood up. When I stood, she stepped close to me, put her arms around me and lifted herself on tip toe to kiss me lightly. Without a word, she turned, grasping my hand as she did, then led me out of the den and up the stairs to her bedroom. Mom kicked her shoes off as we entered her bedroom, then led me to the side of her bed. When she started to finish unbuttoning her blouse, I shook my head as I grasped both of her wrists to stop her. "I get to do that," I said. She smiled and lifted her hands to rest them on my shoulders as I undid the remaining buttons. I left her blouse hanging open instead of taking it off of her, briefly caressing her breasts before moving my hands to her skirt. I unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt and let it fall, then knelt in front of her and slowly pulled her pantyhose down, kissing and licking down her legs as I did. I made that last a long time, and could feel her trembling when she finally stepped out of her hose, a hand on my shoulder to brace herself. I stood and kissed her as I finally slid her blouse off her shoulders and arms, then dropped it and spent several minutes kissing her face, neck, shoulders and the tops of her breasts. Eventually, I reached slid my hands to her waist to pull her hips against me while lightly kissing each of her now rigid nipples before I began kissing and, using just the tip of my tongue, licking her breasts, carefully avoiding her nipples. All the while Mom slowly ground her pelvis against me. Several minutes later, Mom moaned deep in her throat as she grabbed my head and guided my mouth to her right nipple. I sucked on it for a moment then bit it gently. A shudder ran though Mom's body, and she pulled my head more tightly against her as I bit her nipple again, realizing she was having an orgasm. Moving to her left breast, I slowly repeated the process, but I also turned Mom slightly to the left and slid my hand inside her panties. Wetting my finger with her moisture, I traced the lips of her labia and around her clitoral hood for several minutes, then moved to the tip of her clit, caressing it until I felt her shudder with another orgasm. Leaving her breasts, I traced my mouth down, across her stomach, as I knelt in front of her again. I explored her navel with my tongue for a few moments,.then began pulling her panties down, kissing and licking downward as I did. As I slid her panties down her legs, my mouth reached the lush triangle of her womanhood. I kissed her mons, pulling gently at her hair with my lips, then I moved my mouth lower. When my tongue found the top of her labia, she spread her legs slightly. I spread her lips with my tongue and licked and nipped at her for a long time. When her breathing turned to short gasps, my tongue grazed her clitoral hood. Her hips bucked slightly, involuntarily, and she trembled with her 3rd orgasm. I stood up and pulled Mom against me as I kissed her deeply, then turned her and lay her on her bed. I quickly undressed then moved between her legs as she parted them for me. After several minutes of kissing, licking and nibbling her labia, I moved to the top of her labia and parted her lips with my tongue again, searching for her clit. Now engorged, it had emerged from its hood, so I licked and kissed along it's sides for a few moments before catching the tip between my teeth and gently nipping it. Mom screamed softly and bucked against my face, a series of shudders shaking her body. When the tremors stopped, I slid up her body to share a kiss with her. As we did, I slid my legs between hers, then found her wetness with the tip of my cock. I slid into her slowly, raising my body so I rubbed along her clit as I did. A long, contented moan of pleasure come from deep in Mom's throat.