Aunt Hazel's Hairy Pussy, a short story by geronimo_appleby. Date added: 2013-04-13. Times viewed: 9981.
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- Intro: Carl's aunt shocks him one Saturday night (Inc)
One Saturday evening, after a disastrous date, Hazel shocks her nephew by performing an obscene act in front of him. The following day sees Hazel and Carl trying to work through the issues that confront them. And it goes on from there, with what Hazel set in motion gathering momentum.
I had the nucleus of an idea in my head, the setting of the North Yorkshire Moors and a picnic, but when I began to write, the piece just trundled on like a steam-roller.
I’m unsure about the amount of sex I included, and there might be a seemingly unnecessary level included in the following. I did consider cutting some out, but then left it in since if I start culling sections from the scene I might well run past the deadline for entries. Anyway, I’m hoping you can give me some feedback on that particular point, as well as providing feedback for the overall piece as well, of course.
I hope you enjoy the scene, it took me quite a few aborted attempts at making a start, and I do hope it works.
At the end, as you’ll see if you read through, there’s scope for a continuance, but I’m not making any promises to that effect for a number of reasons:
First, I’d hate to promise more of these two – with the potential inclusion of a further character (see the ending to clarify) – and not deliver. I already have a few series that tapered and cooled, and have been questioned about them as well, so to make noises about more to follow without actually doing so seemed out of order. I’m loath to leave another dead-end behind. By all means, extrapolate at your leisure.
Second, it’s always a gamble, writing a piece and putting it out there, I can never be sure if something I write is any good or not, and there’s the potential for this scene between Hazel and Carl to crash and burn. If that’s the case and it bombs, I deffo won’t be adding a sequel!
Right, I’d best STFU. Sorry about that, I’m a gabbler.
Please send feedback, etc.
GA – Sanur, Bali – 14th April 2013.
Saturday March 30th
When I said she looked lovely, I meant it.
My Aunt Hazel had offered a shy, self-conscious pose and a doubtful grin, crows’ feet of unease creasing her blue eyes. “You’re just saying that.”
“No,” I returned, “I’m not.”
Hazel’s grin widened into a smile. “Thank you, Carl.” She stepped towards me and laid a soft kiss against my cheek.
“You smell great, too,” I said as I caressed the place on my face where her lips had been.
But she didn’t hear me since the chiming of the doorbell grabbed her attention.
Hazel carried out perfunctory adjustments in the hallway mirror, baring her teeth at her reflection as she checked for lipstick, smoothing away imaginary stray hairs from her immaculate straight hair, blonde hair that shimmered like liquid silver under the bulb in the hall.
Hazel turned her back to the mirror and craned her neck awkwardly. “You look gorgeous from behind,” I said, prompting my aunt’s question just as her mouth opened to ask it. “Honestly, Aunt Hazel, you really do look gorgeous.”
Then she left for her date with Ian, and I settled down with my coursework, books scattered across the kitchen table.
In less than two hours Hazel was back, upset and close to tears.
My aunt was perched on the edge of the leather sofa in the living room. “What is it that I did wrong?”
I shrugged and didn’t answer, the plain reason being that I didn’t have an answer.
Hazel eyed me, her look questioning. “Come on, Carl,” she said, somewhat belligerently, as though the failings of my sex could be laid at my door. “Tell me, you’re a bloke, tell me what it is that I did wrong.”
“I dunno, Aunt Hazel,” I replied, more than a little uncomfortable at the position I found myself in.
Drunk people make me nervous, I don’t know how to handle them and, in the few times I found myself confronted with someone less than sober, I’ve so far managed to always say the wrong thing. Not that my aunt was totally sozzled, but she was definitely a couple of drinks into it.
Stammering, I added, “I ... I dunno why he did it.”
My aunt swigged the vodka she’d poured for herself down in one go. She held the glass out towards me. “Be a love, Carl,” she said, in danger of dropping the empty tumbler with her unsteady grip. “Get me another, eh?”
I rose from my own seat, one of the cracked leather armchairs that matched the rest of the suite in my aunt’s front room, and reached for the heavy glass. Frustrated by the way the evening had been derailed – I had a week’s worth of notes to write up – I left my aunt alone in the living room and went through to the kitchen to refresh Hazel’s drink. After sliding the ice tray back into the freezer compartment I pulled a beer from the fridge. I might as well have a drink myself, I reasoned.
“Am I not pretty enough?” Hazel asked as I passed her the vodka. “I admit, I might be pushing forty but I don’t think I’ve completely gone to seed.” To my relief my aunt sipped rather than swigged before continuing. “I do my best; I don’t eat rubbish food, I go to the gym three times a week.” She fixed me with a slightly bleary stare. “You tell me, Carl, and be honest, totally honest – am I unattractive?”
I swallowed heavily and felt the heat rise in my face, uncomfortable at the potential for deeper questions to follow. “No, Aunt Hazel,” my eyes slid away from the challenge in the woman’s stare. “I actually think you’re pretty. I told you before you went out – I think you’re gorgeous.”
Silence ballooned between us and I took a hefty swig of beer from the neck of the bottle.
“Really?” Hazel asked.
I could hear the need in her voice, the necessity for confirmation. “You’re not just saying that because I’m your aunt and you’re living in my house?”
“No, Aunt Hazel,” I replied with a sigh of irritation – how many times did I have to say it? “I’m not just saying it. You looked lovely tonight; I don’t have a clue what Ian was thinking.”
My aunt blinked, apparently accepting my reassurances, and offered up a wan smile. “You’re so kind,” she murmured, her lips trembling. I had a thought that real tears were imminent, but Then, after a heavy sigh, Hazel added in a determined tone, “If I’m honest with myself though, Carl, I kind of expected Ian to dump me tonight. He’s been off with me for a few days; I don’t know why, he didn’t say, he just came out with the old guff about it being him and not me.” My aunt gave a snort of derision followed by a brittle laugh. “He spouted some crap about not wanting to tie me down or disappoint me.” Hazel then gave a small shrug and sipped at her drink.
My heart went out to my aunt when I saw her eyes glisten with the unshed tears, tears she refused to shed. Three blokes, all in under a year, had thrown her aside. One, the second one, Murray, had asked her to marry him, but he’d been a player and had two other women on the go at the same time. This last one, Ian, had come along and pursued Hazel relentlessly. Still picking up the pieces of a heart shattered by Murray the Player, Hazel had only agreed to go out with Ian to get it over with, to end his relentless, dogged pursuit of her, so she could say ‘thanks, but no thanks, I’ve had enough’. But Ian had somehow won her round, and they’d been out a few more times in the last couple of months. Now it seemed that Ian had, for reasons of his own, blown her out, which left my aunt on the sofa at ten past ten on a Saturday night with me for company.
Hardly the best shoulder in the world to cry on – what did I know about women and their problems? Especially relationship issues!
“Well, I reckon Ian’s a dickhead, Aunt Hazel. I honestly think you’re beautiful and clever. You’re really sexy, if I had a girlfriend like you I ...”
I’d said it without thinking, told her she was sexy. OK, it was true, I did think that, but it wasn’t something I should have said – I mean, it is a tad inappropriate, calling my mother’s sister sexy. It wasn’t like I actually knew what I’d do if I had a girlfriend like my aunt, either. I didn’t have a girlfriend at all.
When I realised just what I’d said, I clamped my mouth shut.
All of a sudden my aunt seemed less squiffy, her eyes brightened, clearing and losing the opaque sheen. The slurring in her voice disappeared, and her hand no longer shook as she took a ladylike sip at the vodka, her eyes on me over the rim of the glass.
I shivered under that cool, appraising, almost feline stare. Where was the slightly inebriated, close to hysterical woman of a few minutes before?
It was inevitable, her next words, the question that came out of her mouth as she stared at me.
“What, Carl?” Hazel said, the words sighing from her. “What would you do if you had a girlfriend like me?”
My face warmed in the heat of Hazel’s appraisal. I squirmed in my chair and flicked the label on the body of the bottle, picking at it with my thumbnail. “Uh, well, I’d treat you nicely.”
Hazel snorted. “Nicely, Carl? What do you mean by nicely?”
How had I managed to get myself into this? All I’d wanted was to make my aunt feel better; I’d been doing my best to comfort her, but now I needed to get out of that room. I had a sense that something momentous was about to happen, there was a sudden atmosphere between us, a crackling of tension.
My aunt shifting position distracted me as she moved against the sofa and crossed her legs. The hem of her skirt rode high as she swivelled to a three-quarter profile, an action that revealed a lot of leg.
Seeing so much of my aunt’s thigh gave me a delicious thrill, a wicked sense of the forbidden. The woman was my own mother’s sister, but at that moment I experienced a deep and near overwhelming desire for her.
The serpent of lust uncurled in my guts; my balls tightened and I could feel my cock thickening with interest.
“Oh, I don’t know, Aunt Hazel. I suppose I’d treat you with a bit of respect, take you to places you want to go.”
My aunt’s head tilted to one side, a quizzical eyebrow arched. “Where I want to go?” Hazel questioned. She sat upright, back straightening as she uncrossed her legs.
The way my aunt asked the question, quietly and with a smoky timbre in her voice, gave me the impression she’d heard the same low rumble the delivery of my words. I studied Hazel’s expression while she apparently considered what I’d said. That look she wore had me thinking that, at that moment, she was no longer with me. In fact, the dreamlike quality, the distant look in her eyes, told me that my aunt was lost in some internal reverie.
Then she gave a little shiver and her eyes focussed upon me again. “Would you take me somewhere romantic, Carl?”
I didn’t know if this was the drink talking or if, for some twisted reason of her own, my aunt was teasing me, but the tone of her voice and Hazel’s soft, questioning eyes stirred me on a visceral level. My throat swelled with emotion as I pictured the two of us somewhere like Florence or Paris, cities I’d never visited but which, in my mind, were the places where lovers went. In my head I saw Hazel laughing brightly, the iconic backdrop of the Eifel Tower all lit up in a benign Parisian summer night behind her; I saw her smiling face and the shimmer of her bobbed hair in the moments before I kissed her mouth.
My aunt’s mouth! I was kissing my mother’s sister, our tongues were sliding over and over as I held her waist in my hands and she pressed her body against me. My hands moved over the light cotton dress she wore, sliding over the rack of her ribs, the material of the dress bunching under my palms before I squeezed Hazel’s breasts.
My erection was sudden and urgent, not to be ignored, and I heard my aunt moan when her hand pressed against the ridge of it that swelled in my jeans.
“Let’s go back to the hotel,” my aunt whispered in my ear. “I want to see you naked. I want to see your cock all stiff for me.” Hazel slipped her tongue into my mouth and we kissed for a few seconds. ‘I want to lick it and feel how hard it is, Carl. Let’s go back and we can fuck, darling. Show me how much you love me.”
The scene went through my mind in a blink. I nodded at Hazel, the real Hazel, the one sitting on the sofa right there in the living room. “Yes, Aunt Hazel,” I managed to croak, “somewhere romantic, somewhere where we could be together.”
I don’t know if Hazel saw it in my face or if she heard it in my voice, and I can’t really recall much of what followed too clearly, but I suppose my words affected her in a way I’d not intended. It all came on like a dream, hazy and indistinct, and I couldn’t say who did what first, but the next solid memory I have is of Hazel standing in front of me.
She stood there and gazed down at me. The expression she wore was a mystery to me, beyond my experience. Hazel looked wistful, seductive. She stared down at me bunched in the chair. The eyes fixed on me appear filled with tenderness, while the set of her mouth, the corners curled ever so slightly, suggests she’s plotting something, a sly, vulpine grin that sends a tingle of arousal through my already erect cock.
“Together, Carl,” my aunt murmured, “the two of us together? If only we could, darling.” Hazel sighed. “Would you make love to me, Carl?” she asked in a whisper.
“Aunt Hazel,” I replied with a heavy gulp.” I nodded and swallowed again, squirming in my seat in discomfort caused by my hard-on straining against my jeans. “I would, I’d ... I’d ...”
“What would you do, Carl?” My aunt’s voice is hypnotic. I’m caught up in a spell cast by her eyes. “If we were somewhere romantic.” She reached out and touched my hair, her hand moving slowly down over my face. Hazel leaned forward, her fingers under my chin, her thumb sliding back and forth across my cheek. “Would you kiss me, Carl?”
Of their own accord, my hands went up to my aunt’s hips. We stayed like that for long seconds, an unmoving tableau, my aunt leaning over me, our eyes locked.
The word creaked out of my dusty throat. “Yes,” I croaked.
“You’d kiss me, Carl?” Hazel murmured. “Honestly? Would you really kiss me?”
I didn’t reply verbally, I couldn’t. Instead, I merely nodded.
“What else?” Hazel continued.
I could hear my heart beating as blood, hot, quick blood rushed through my veins. I opened my mouth to speak, to tell my aunt of all the things I wanted to do to her, what I wanted us to experience together. Lewd images rolled across the movie screen of my mind. Scenes in which Hazel lay naked across some unknown bed, her arms reaching for me, her smile an invitation, her open legs welcoming.
“Everything,” I finally gasped.
“Would you fuck me?” Hazel supplied the word I couldn’t use. “Would you fuck me, Carl?” Her eyes gleamed with what I can only assume was a sudden burst of sexual arousal. Gone was the lonely, wistful look, replaced by something feral, a desperate expression of desire.
“Aunt Hazel,” I gasped, shocked by her use of the word.
“Oh, God,” Hazel interrupted, “I want a man to love me. I want a man between my legs, one with a lovely hard dick that splits me open and fills me up. I want to feel a lovely cock inside me, a living, throbbing cock pulsing as it cums and cums and a man kisses my mouth. I want hands on my body, on my tits, squeezing them and being all rough while I ride up and down on his dick.”
“Yuh-you shouldn’t say things like that, Aunt Hazel,” I stammered. Not to me. It ... it isn’t right.”
If truth be told I’d harboured an infatuation for my aunt, just for a short period, a couple of weeks at most just after I’d moved in with her, and the memory of my illicit yearning flooded my face with heat. I found a magazine in the attic when I was lifting my empty suitcase up there for storage after unpacking, a soft-core magazine that featured a series of women who, initially dressed – secretary, teacher, doctor – then stripped down to lingerie. I assumed the dirty magazine had been left behind by Hazel’s former husband, forgotten up there amongst the insulation and cobwebs. After a quick flick through the pages, I shoved the magazine into the front of my jeans and scuttled away to what was now my bedroom. It wasn’t until later the same day, alone in my bedroom that I took a more detailed look at the models. I was there, on my bed, unable to resist the urge to play with my cock during a leisurely perusal of the flesh fiesta on display when I noticed that one of the models bore a resemblance to my Aunt.
The likeness was so strong that I was sure the woman was Hazel, and I even – after much rummaging in drawers around the house – used a magnifying glass in an attempt to spot any distinguishing marks, like a mole or a birthmark. There was nothing I could see in the photos that disqualified my aunt, and the possibility, however unlikely that it was her smiling as she offered a gynaecological pose, caused a few fantasies to form in my head.
Ignoring the other models, I’d tug my dick and picture my aunt posing for me, thinking of how exciting it would be to have her wide-legged and smirking at me in real-life. I imagined her breasts in my hands or me sucking her nipples, I wondered at the texture of her buttocks if I could just knead that spongy flesh. What would it feel like to have her straddle me, a hand holding my cock upright as she lowered her body over mine and her pussy accommodated the rigid length of me? I could hear my aunt’s sighs and moans and soft murmurs of endearment, I could taste her kisses.
For a time, the chance, however slim a possibility that Hazel actually was the model – after all, why would her husband have kept that magazine? – I nurtured the fantasy of making love to my own mother’s sister. I knew it was the wrong thing to do, but that didn’t make any difference. If anything the taboo only caused my orgasm to burn hotter.
It ended after a close-call, with me almost being caught with the magazine spread across my bed while I knelt there, fist pumping my cock. It was just as my climax struck, the jizm boiling out of me that I heard the squeak on the stairs; a sound I’d identified as the loose tread, the one fifth from the top. There was no way I could stem the flow of my outpouring as a coldwater wave of shock washed over me. Panic mushroomed in my chest, and I think I might even have blurted out a denial as a hundred thoughts clamoured inside my head at once. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t happen. It couldn’t be Hazel. There had to be some other explanation for the sound on the stairs. I truly, honestly harboured the surreal disbelief that my aunt could walk in and catch me in such a position.
I looked down and saw cum spitting from me, my bed protected from the stuff raining down by the towel I’d spread over the bed for exactly that purpose, just as my aunt knocked on my door.
“Are you in there, Carl?” she called.
“Yeah,” I managed to croak, certain that a few seconds later would see my aunt standing in the open doorway, her fingers at her mouth while she struggled to accept the image of her nephew kneeling on the bed, cock dribbling from the tip of his cock.
“Well, since I’m home early,” Hazel continued from beyond the door. “I wondered if you’d like to eat earlier tonight? I quite fancy pizza.” I heard my aunt chuckle. “I don’t know why I’ve got the taste for it, but I fancy pizza. How about you?”
“Anything,” I blurted. “I don’t mind.”
I gave a huge, deep felt sigh of relief when Hazel said she’d dig the takeaway menu out from one the kitchen drawers and moved away from my door. I almost collapsed onto the bed, my legs and arms trembling.
“Oh God, oh god,” I muttered, the panic setting in as I scrambled around tidying myself up. “Fuck, that was close. Oh fuck ... what if she’d come in?”
The fright had been too much for me and I all but flung the magazine through the partition in the ceiling when I heard Hazel moving around downstairs. I put the images from my mind and vowed never to entertain lewd thoughts over my aunt ever again.
That was the reason I told my aunt she shouldn’t be saying things like that to me. I still felt guilty over harbouring incestuous thoughts about Hazel during the magazine saga.
“But I’m so bloody frustrated, Carl,” my aunt said. “I haven’t been loved for such a long time, not properly loved. And the last man I had was Murray; I haven’t been fucked for ages.”
My hands, without me realising it, were moving over my aunt’s hips and thighs. I was caressing her through her skirt, my fingers gently squeezing. Hazel gasped when I pressed the tips of my fingers into her buttocks.
My aunt placed both hands on my head, one palm smoothing the hair at my crown while the fingers of her other hand caressed my cheek. “I’m so ... so ... desperate right now, Carl,” I heard her murmur. “I have urges and needs and I’m just not fulfilled.” She sighed, heavily. “Sometimes I could just go out and find a man, any man, any random bloke with muscles and a big cock. God,” Hazel breathed, “how lovely that would be, to just let myself go and fuck a hard penis.” When I looked up at Hazel’s face I saw her eyes had glazed over, her face almost serene as she lived the fantasy in her head. ‘I’d let him do it to me however he wanted to,” the woman added. “He could just ... just use me.” My aunt sighed again. Releasing my head she stepped back a pace. “Just like I’d be using him,” Hazel continued. “I’d love to ride a cock that’s all thick and hard, all stiff with excitement over me.”
All I could do was sit in the chair and listen. Too stunned to speak, I couldn’t move, just stared at my aunt during this ribald and shocking torrent with my mouth hanging open. Hazel went on and on, describing exactly what she wanted, what she craved to do with her anonymous lover.
Eventually – and I still have trouble reconciling what Hazel did next with the soft-spoken, demure woman I knew as my aunt – perpetuating my slack-jawed, boggle-eyed surprise, Hazel hiked up her skirt.
“Oh Jesus,” I breathed, not believing that the white cotton underwear with tiny pink bows embroidered along the waistband, the knickers packed with her pudendum actually belonged to my aunt. This was my mother’s sister, it simply couldn’t be.
I blasphemed again when Hazel pushed a hand into that waistband, her legs buckling at the knees before she staggered backwards and collapsed into the settee. She held her skirt around her midriff with one hand, the one that wasn’t shoved down inside her underwear, while I sat opposite, with my head spinning.
“I want a man to touch me,” my aunt whispered, her face tight with lust, eyes blazing, the cords in her neck like knife blades. I stared at her, my mind reeling while she lay there, sprawled across the leather, legs wide fingers squirming and wriggling inside her underwear. “Carl, I’m so sorry.” Hazel mumbled. Her eyes rolled. “I can’t help it, I have to do this ... I know I shouldn’t do it in front of you, but I have to.”
My aunt winced and gasped. I saw her close her eyes as she just let herself go, witnessed the moment of abandon. Without thinking, not really knowing I was doing it, I unbuckled my belt and, after unbuttoning my jeans and pulling down the zip, lifted my hips and yanked my jeans to my thighs. I stroked my cock and watched my aunt rub herself closer and closer to orgasm.
Hazel’s eyes widened when opened them and saw me. A moan slipped out of her. “Oh fuck. Pull it, Carl,” she hissed. “Pull your cock. Let me see.”
Sunday March 31st
She didn’t appear until late afternoon the day after it began. At first Hazel couldn’t meet my eyes, she just held up a hand as she walked into the kitchen. “Not a word, Carl,” she said, hurrying past me on her way to the kettle. “Please, I’m so bloody embarrassed, please don’t say a thing.”
So I sat at the table and pretended to write up notes from the previous weeks lectures. Not that I could concentrate on a word – how could I after what I’d experienced the previous night? I’d thought of nothing else since watching my aunt masturbate, fingers busy inside her knickers while I too wanked with a furious, reckless abandon. I’d witnessed her climax and had spurted my own ejaculate onto the living room carpet in response. After that, following a few breathless seconds where we both just stared at each other, agog, the two of us apparently shell-shocked until Hazel had blurted out some unintelligible sound and, after hauling herself upright from the sofa, fled from the room.
Following my aunt’s exit I sat and tried to make sense of what had just happened. What I’d just seen was unbelievable; things like that just did not happen. There was no way Hazel would have done what she did; I had to be hallucinating or dreaming.
I must have sat there for fifteen minutes, perhaps longer, simply trying to make sense of it all. It wasn’t until I moved, easing muscles that I hadn’t noticed had stiffened and now ached, that I felt the damp patches on my tee-shirt against my skin. Semen had stained the shirt, patches of physical evidence that told me that at least part of what had gone on was true – if my aunt had merely been an illusion of some kind, I’d still masturbated and cum all over the place.
It hadn’t been a dream or hallucination, none of it. What I thought had happened, had happened, it was true.
When I went to her bedroom and gave the door a timid knock, Aunt Hazel told me to go away, to leave her alone. At first I’d begged her to see me, what we’d just done together had me reeling, I had to talk about it, to find out what my aunt was feeling and thinking. I suppose I should have just barged in and demanded to talk to her, to get it all out in the open, but I’m not like that, I wouldn’t contemplate bursting in shouting the odds. No, all I did was knock at the door and linger outside for a few seconds before moving away with great and heavy reluctance.
Of course sleep never came, not with the events playing over and over in my mind. I kept seeing my aunt’s face as she lay sprawled across the sofa, heard her moans and groans and sighs, listened again to the words she’d used. Imagining what it would have been like to have gone to her and ripped her underwear from her body. I tugged my cock twice more before daylight filtered through the curtains of my bedroom. I yanked at it again once more after the late dawn while thinking about licking my aunt’s pussy and stabbing into her with my hard dick.
I climbed out of bed just after nine and loitered outside Hazel’s closed bedroom door on my way to the bathroom. My hand actually touched the door-handle, all it would take was a quick twist and a push, but my nerve failed me. My cock stiffened again as I showered, and I willed my aunt to join me under the spray. Would she come? Would I see her naked and get to feel her skin under my fingers? Would she kiss me and touch my cock?
She never came.
Unfulfilled and agitated I towelled dry. I hadn’t even masturbated in the shower and the rest of the morning and afternoon were agony. Pressure built inside me – I had to see Hazel, talk to her about what we’d done. I couldn’t settle, Television was no good, reading didn’t take my mind off it, and there was no hope of me concentrating on my university course.
It was just as I’d put the kettle on to boil water for a cup of tea that I heard the sounds of movement overhead. My heart leapt into my throat, a physical swelling in my chest and a tightening of my windpipe. Excitement and dread churned in my stomach, I both desired and feared seeing Aunt Hazel again.
When she made her entrance and implored me with that upraised hand and averted eyes not to say a thing about what had occurred I swallowed the words that bubbled into my mouth, questions backed-up behind my teeth, like a log-jam on a river.
Hazel rummaged around in one of the kitchen drawers. “Oh God, they’re stale,” she spat in disgust after lighting a cigarette from a packet she found.
“Well, how long have they been there?” I asked, grateful for something to say. “Didn’t you give up years ago?”
Hazel glanced at me and nodded before she walked to the sink and stared out of the window across the paddock behind the house. “Five years ago,” she replied. “Bloody hell, I can’t smoke this, it’s foul.” She turned to me, blinking when she looked into my expectant face. “Carl, be a love. Go down to the shop and get me a packet of Marlboro Lights would you?” Hazel indicated her blue bathrobe, cinched tightly at the waist. “I’m not dressed yet or I’d go myself.”
“Uh-are you sure, Aunt Hazel? I—”
My aunt cut me off with a pained expression, her eyes closed, face turned away from me. “Please, Carl Just ... go. Please. I’ll make the tea,” she added, to my back as I left the room.
When I returned I found Hazel sitting at the kitchen table, elbows upon it, face in her palms. A cup of tea steamed in front of her while set at the place opposite was a mug of the same.
“Here,” I said, dropping the cigarettes onto the table before I sat down and lifted the mug to my lips.
Hazel removed the cellophane from the packet with trembling fingers. She stood up and went to the kitchen counter where she’d left the lighter. Lighting up she inhaled, closing her eyes and sighing with deep satisfaction. My aunt took two more long drags before returning to her seat.
“All right, Carl,” she murmured, her eyes flicking back and forth between my own and a point just above my left shoulder. “I suppose we need to talk about what went on last night.” Hazel blinked a few times. She smoked and flicked the tip of her cigarette with her thumb to tip ash into the saucer she used as an ashtray. “Uh-I ...” she stuttered, “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I can’t for the life of me imagine what was going through my head, Carl.” A blush crept out of the neck of my aunt’s bathrobe. She dropped her gaze to the tabletop while her cheeks flared a deep red. “When I woke up this morning all I could think about was ... was ... Oh God, Carl! I’m mortified. I’m so embarrassed and deeply ashamed.”
Resisting the urge to stand up and walk around the table to my aunt – some instinct told me that touching her, however innocently and well-intentioned would be a mistake – I sat there, quiet and attentive. Hazel went n for a few more moments, lamenting and blaming herself for what occurred in an outpouring of anguish.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Aunt Hazel,” I said when she stopped speaking. I shrugged. “I was there too; I did ... things as well. At least you were a bit boozed up, I was sober and I could have stopped it from happening.”
Hazel lifted her forlorn face to me. She looked lost, so fragile and afraid that once again I had to suppress the urge to go to her and take her into my embrace.
“I can’t blame to vodka,” my aunt said with a shake of her head. “Not entirely.” Hazel sighed and dragged on her cigarette. She pulled a face, nose wrinkling with disgust. “What the bloody hell am I doing smoking?” she asked before grinding the half-smoked thing into the saucer. ‘I don’t need to get started with that crap again.” Hazel looked at me. “Oh, Carl, what the hell did we do it for? What was it all about? Where did it come from?”
I had no answers; I was as shocked as my aunt. I might not be feeling the same level of guilt or shame as Hazel displayed, in fact I didn’t feel too embarrassed about it at all, not really, I was too wound up by the experience, but I was mystified as to why my normally demure, well-spoken aunt had suddenly gone into one and exhibited herself in such a lewd way. I knew why I’d joined in, it was quite simply because I was young and perpetually horny, a walking hard-on most of the time, and some of it had come from the lookalike model in the dirty magazine I’d found. I didn’t have much experience with women, hardly any in fact, and I might be a little awkward socially, too shy to just walk up to girls and strike up conversations, but I possessed a healthy libido and a vivid imagination, and watching my aunt masturbate, even though – or maybe because – Hazel is my mother’s sister, had been the single most arousing event of my life.
“I dunno, Aunt Hazel. But please, don’t be embarrassed or upset. It happened and we can’t undo it.”
“But what must you think of me, Carl? I mean ... the things I did, the things I said!” She dropped her head into her hands again.
“I think you’re beautiful,” Aunt Hazel.” When I spoke the atmosphere changed immediately, suddenly charged with something indefinable as, without really thinking about it, acting on instinct, more came out of me. “When I saw you last night ... when you did it in front of me, well I wanted it to be true; I wanted us to be together somewhere. I thought about the two of us, in Paris in a hotel. In my head I saw us, well, you know, I saw us naked. We were in bed, Aunt Hazel, and we were kissing, properly kissing. You wanted to touch me. You wanted to suck me.”
My stomach lurched and my heart began to race, a deep lub-lub in my chest. I felt my cock thicken when an arterial burst of sexual desire for my aunt exploded inside me.
“Carl,” Hazel responded, her voice breaking with emotion after staring at me in silence for a time. I wasn’t sure as to just which emotion my aunt might be working through behind wide eyes, her expression unreadable. I couldn’t read her face, didn’t know if she wanted me to continue or stop.
Then I got my answer, a response similar to the one I’d first delivered to Hazel the previous evening. “Please, Carl, you shouldn’t talk like that.”
I heard the words but also picked up my aunt’s tone of voice. Something told me that, despite her protestations, Hazel wanted me to carry on. I’d been the same, hadn’t I used the same words but hadn’t really wanted Hazel to stop? For me it had been the guilt at holding incestuous thoughts about my aunt when I’d looked at the skinny blonde in the magazine, and I assumed this was the same thing.
Taking a deep breath and keeping my eyes locked on my aunt’s, I added, “Didn’t you see me, Hazel? Didn’t you watch me while we both did it? I couldn’t see much of you but I could see your fingers moving inside your knickers. I heard you moan, Aunty.” Pausing, I slowly rose to my feet. “I’m hard now just thinking about it.”
Hazel squirmed in her chair. She gripped the sides of the table so hard her knuckles blanched. “Carl ... Stop it, Carl ...”
Ignoring the plea I carried on. “You watched me do it,” I murmured, my voice low and hypnotic. “You saw how excited I was, you watched me wank. You could see my cock, I couldn’t see you, Aunt Hazel, I couldn’t see between your legs. But I wanted to, wanted to look at you so much. I wanted to lick you down there.” Reckless with lust by that time, I pawed at my erection through my jeans. My aunt gasped, her face twisted with anguish. “Shall I do it again, Aunty?” I breathed. “Do you want to watch me pull my cock?”
My fingers scrabbled at my zip as I sought in desperation to free my cock.
“There, Aunt Hazel,” I groaned, my fist working at my length. “Look at that.”
The narcotic bubble that had enveloped us both, popped.
“NO!” my aunt yelled, rising to her feet as her palm slapped against the table top. “Carl, don’t. Stop it, don’t do that anymore.”
A wild and out of control desire surged through me. “Come on, Hazel,” I gibbered, grinning as I tugged at myself. “Look at it. Just look at how stiff I am. It’s for you, Aunty, and you can have it. Just come here and touch it. Feel it.” I moaned and hissed the urgency I felt through gritted teeth, eyes bulging. “Open up that robe and let me see you. I want to see your body. I want to see your tits and pussy. Aunt Hazel, I want to fuck you.”
“Carl! No, Carl.” Hazel’s palm slapped against the table again. “Stop it. Stop doing that, stop saying those things. For fuck’s sake, Carl – ENOUGH!”
Hazel ran from the kitchen. The sound of her hitched breathing as the sobs welled in her chest deflated my ardour and the insanity melted away as quickly as it had come over me.
“Oh shit,” I muttered as I stood in the kitchen, alone except for my cock slowly wilting in my fingers.
I’m living in my aunt’s house because she just happens to own a place in the same city as the university. It all made sense, me moving in. She lives on her own as a divorcee; asks for a reasonable rent, nothing extortionate since she owns the house outright and is mortgage free. Of course me being her nephew helps keep the rent low, I know her and she knows me, we’re family after all, and up until now we’ve lived together, rubbing along nicely as they say, for two easygoing years.
Now the wheels had come off the wagon in a spectacular crash, and the question was, where did we go from here? It seemed to me that I would probably have to move out, maybe find some digs with other students in town. Accommodation wouldn’t be hard to come by, but I didn’t much relish the idea of sharing a kitchen with half-a-dozen grungy students. I’d seen some of the shitholes my contemporaries lived in – basically a flophouse with a mattress on the floor for a bed and a penicillin crop mouldering away in the kitchen. However my most immediate and pressing concern was my future relationship with my Aunt Hazel.
Would she blab to my mother? I couldn’t see it since it was hardly the kind of thing you dropped casually into a conversation:
yeah, the weather’s been crap hasn’t it, oh, by the way, I fingered myself in front of Carl and he tugged his cock while I watched. Yeah, I saw him cum, saw him spunk all over himself in the living room – I dunno if the stain will ever come out of the chair. Then, you’ll never guess what he did, only flopped his cock out in the kitchen the following day. He wanted to lick my pussy and fuck me, too ...
No, I couldn’t see Hazel mentioning anything to her sister, but then again, if you’d told me twenty-four hours earlier that my aunt would rub herself to orgasm in front of me, I’d have laughed in your face and called you delusional.
I suppose I felt bad because I’d carried on the way I had. It seemed that I’d misread my aunt completely, that she hadn’t wanted to see my hard-on, nor did she want to watch me wank or have my tongue squirming into her opening. I’d upset her and caused her more anguish than she already felt. What we’d done, the lewd scene we’d both participated in was bad enough, and was obviously something she felt ashamed of, and now I’d embarrassed Hazel further, exacerbated the problem by letting myself get out of control. And I couldn’t see any way of putting it right.
But, as I confronted these problems and wondered what the hell to do, Aunt Hazel came to me.
Following my antics in the kitchen, and the subsequent disastrous results, I’d taken to my bedroom to try and think of a way around this huge problem, to try to figure a way of removing this great boulder blocking the path of my future. I was on my bed, shoeless, wearing jeans and tee-shirt, legs crossed at the ankles with my arms behind my head.
I thought I heard a knock at the door, and when I looked up I saw Hazel standing there, her demeanour unsure, her expression timorous.
“Carl?” my aunt asked in a shaky voice as she peered around the partially open door. “Can I come in?”
She entered, moving slowly, wary and nervous as a bird, her head and eyes moving all the time as though looking for a trap.
I saw my aunt had put on some clothes, was now wearing a light cotton dress, the kind of bright-patterned thing she habitually wore in the summer months. The hem fell to a flattering point a few inches above my aunt’s thighs and I experienced a brief flash of arousal.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Hazel,” I blurted as I sat upright on the bed, my fingers running through my hair. “I was an idiot.”
“No, Carl,” the woman responded. The mattress dipped under her weight as Hazel perched on the side of my bed. “I started it; I did it all last night. It was me. I can’t blame you, you’re young and pumping with hormones, of course you’re going to react like that if I ... if I make such an exhibition of myself.” Hazel sighed and picked at a loose thread on the quilt cover. “Like I said earlier, I’m embarrassed by the whole thing, mortified in fact. I simply do not know what happened, why I did it.”
I reached out a tentative hand; Hazel stiffened when I touched her shoulder, her head snapped up and she looked me right in the eye, but she made no move to pull away from my touch.
My penis, my traitorous cock stiffened, a single-minded entity driven by a force beyond my control.
“What are we going to do, Aunt Hazel?” I murmured, desire quickening within me.
My aunt shook her head. “I don’t know, Carl. It’s a mess. I suppose we could just try to forget about it.” Her eyes beseeched me, deep imploring pools. “I mean, if we’re both at fault – even though, I admit, I started it,” she added quickly, “well then, we could just agree to say nothing more, to let it pass.” Hazel let out a nervous giggle. “After all, we’ll forget about it in time, eh? And it’d be a shame to let it get in the way of what has, up to now, been quite a harmonious arrangement.” She glanced away and then looked at me askance. “You do like living here, don’t you, Carl? It’s been all right, hasn’t it?”
I rose to my knees on the bed, my hand coming off Hazel’s shoulder as I moved. “It’s been great, Aunt Hazel,” I replied, relieved that I wouldn’t be moving out. “You’ve been great, fantastic.”
“So we’re agreed then, we’ll forget about it?”
I doubted I’d forget about it, what I’d seen and heard was just too overwhelming to ever put aside, but I swallowed and nodded just the same.
Hazel must have seen an element of doubt or disappointment in my face. “You do want to forget it, don’t you, Carl?” she asked.
What did she mean with that question? Why was there such an emphasis on the do? Did Hazel really mean what she said – did she really want to forget?
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget how beautiful you looked, Aunty,” I murmured, which was an honest answer, albeit not one that quite answered the question.
I heard my aunt gasp and mutter, “Oh, dear God ... I don’t have the strength to resist. I’m so weak.”
Hazel grabbed my upper arm, her fingers vicelike around my bicep as she stared into my eyes with an intensity that made me flinch but held my attention.
“Beautiful, Carl? Do you really think so?”
“Yes,” I breathed, nodding slowly.
“So are you. When I saw you,” Aunt Hazel’s fingers flicked in the general direction of my groin, “when I saw you so big and hard. Oh, Carl,” she moaned, rolling her eyes, “I want to see you again.”
Lust surged through me, hot and quick as without hesitation I unzipped my flies.
“There,” I crowed in triumph. “I’m already stiff.”
My aunt gaped at the length of me in my fist. “We can’t touch each other, Carl,” she said in quick gasps. “We can’t touch or kiss ... I won’t let you see my breasts or between my legs. We can masturbate in front of each other – I love watching you working that big cock, and I’ll tell you things, I’ll tell you what I’d love you to do to me, what we could do together, but no matter how aroused or excited we become, we’re not going to touch. We can’t, Carl,” my aunt added when she read the disappointment in my face. “That’s too much, far too much. That would be going too far.”
Nodding and gritting my teeth, after all this was way more than I’d expected, more than I’d dare to hope for, I stroked my hard-on and watched as my aunt lay back on my bed and opened her legs. Again her underwear bulged, writhing like a sack filled with squirming kittens when her fingers moved against her vulva. I heard Hazel gasp, and in my mind’s eyes I saw her sliding two, perhaps three fingers into her opening.
“I wish I could taste you, Aunty,” I moaned, my eyes locked on Hazel’s finger-stuffed knickers.
“I wish I could suck your cock, darling,” the woman responded. “I’d love to take you into my mouth and suck you, Carl.”
“Hazel,” I grunted, “I’ll cum if you say things like that.”
“Then cum, my lovely man,” the woman sighed. Her body tensed and she winced, her hand moving rapidly against her sex. “Just let it spit out of you again. Ruin my dress if you want, I don’t care. Show me the hot stuff, Carl. Cum for me ... Cum for your aunt.”
The reference to her being my aunt did it, the taboo hitting me so hard. The forbidden element of what we were doing was just so strong. I wanked in front of my mother’s sister, and she, my aunt, rubbed her pussy while I watched, agog. The excitement of being so wicked together, the simple wrongness of our conspiracy sent the jizm fizzing through my cock.
I knelt upright as the goo erupted from me, watching Aunt Hazel, sprawled and writhing, on my bed. I heard her gasp and moan and sigh, and was that my imagination, or could I really hear a juicy squelching from between her legs while she worked herself towards a climax?
Spunk sprayed across Hazel’s dress, and she yelped and jumped like a scalded cat when more of the gloop rained down onto her forearm.
“Spunk,” Hazel grunted. “You’ve cum on me, you filthy little bugger.” Her eyes glittered as she flashed a grin at me. “Give me more,” the woman gurgled. “Cum for your aunty.” Then I saw her eyes glaze and her face slacken. Hazel’s knees came together, clamping around her forearm as she rolled onto her side, legs coming up to her chest. The dress bunched higher around her waist to reveal taut, round buttocks, a sight that made me squeeze my dick, milking it of jizm.
While my aunt writhed and gasped and moaned, obviously gripped by an overwhelming orgasm, I moved across the bed on my knees and eased myself off it. Standing there, my cock dangling from my flies, I watched Hazel twitch and mutter through the final throes of her climax.
When she finally ceased her spastic juddering, Hazel rolled onto her back. “You came on my arm,” she accused, eyes glistening. “And you spunked on my dress.”
“You told me to do it on your dress,” I spluttered. “You said—”
My aunt’s laugh cut me off. “Don’t worry about the dress, Carl. It doesn’t matter.” She levered herself upright and yanked at the hem to regain her modesty. “Put that away, will you.” The woman waved a hand at my flagging penis, which confronted her at her eye level. I zipped up and Hazel patted the bed next to her. “Sit down. We have to talk about this.”
Again? I thought, but kept my peace.
A silence enveloped us – me keeping quiet while Hazel, her brow furrowed in concentration, appeared to be lost in thought.
Eventually she glanced at me. “I don’t think I want to stop doing this,” she murmured, a blush rising up her throat. “I quite enjoy it, Carl. It’s so bloody exciting.” Hazel blinked her blue eyes several times. “What do you think? Would you like to keep doing it?”
Astounded, unable to believe what I’d just heard I boggled at my aunt.
“Your face,” she chuckled, pointing at me. “Close your mouth, Carl.”
“But, Aunt Hazel,” I gasped, incredulous. “You mean you want to ... to keep on doing this?” My aunt gave a slow nod of her head, causing excitement at the possibilities to surge through me. My stomach flipped and my chest swelled with joy. “Oh my God,” I babbled. “You mean we can do all the things you said? I can lick you? You’re going to suck my cock?”
“Whoa, Carl! Stop. No, I don’t mean quite like that. Calm down.” My aunt placed a hand on my shoulder in an effort to curb my exuberance. “What I said earlier, about not touching, about me not showing you my pussy or my breasts, well that still stands, Carl. If we went too far, if I showed you my body, I’m afraid that you might get out of control, that you might ... force yourself on me, Carl.”
“No, Aunt Hazel,” I said, aghast that she could think I’d do anything against her will. “I wouldn’t do that. I know I wouldn’t.”
A dubious look from Hazel. “Maybe, Carl. Perhaps you wouldn’t.” Her shoulders jumped in a shrug. “But I’m afraid that, if you want to keep on doing this, this playing together, I’m afraid that those are my conditions. Don’t get me wrong, darling,” she added, “the thought of having you as a lover, a proper lover, excites me so much, and if we weren’t related, if you weren’t my sister’s son it would be so different.”
Frustration gripped me, infuriated me. To think I could do something like masturbate while my lovely Aunt Hazel watched, while she reciprocated by rubbing her pussy and allowed me to witness such an intimate scene without actually letting me even get a glimpse of her pussy was so galling. And to think that she was so close to me, not just being related, her being my mother’s sister, but in such close physical proximity, so tempting as she climaxed, her face twisted with lust and the pleasure of that release. I could reach out and touch her ...
“Aunt Hazel,” I moaned, “I wouldn’t do anything more than you’d let me, but can’t I just see you all bare? Won’t you let me look at you?”
This time the shake of her head was vigorous. Hazel was just so adamant. “No, Carl. We can masturbate together, like we just did, but I can’t allow it to go further, I can’t.”
My aunt gave my chest a gentle push. I leaned to one side so she could roll off the bed. She stood and looked down at the forlorn huddle of me. I was miserable despite the staggering prospect of my aunt’s proposal.
“I’ll leave it up to you, Carl,” Hazel muttered before she turned away from me. “If you say no more about it, I understand. But if you want to ...”
She left it hanging, walking out of my bedroom, leaving me blinking at empty space.
What could I do? My options were to forget it, put it from my mind and just get on with my life. I could throw myself into my studies, really concentrate on uni and make a decent start in life. As I pondered the idea of ignoring my aunt on a sexual level, I wondered if by doing so that she’d actually have second thoughts herself and might come to me all contrite and obliging.
That plan lasted for all of fifty-five minutes, for in less than an hour I walked into the living room where Hazel watched television, my idea of playing hard to get abandoned.
“All right,” I said when she turned to me, her attention drawn from the television.
“All right, what, Carl?” my aunt replied. The television winked off and Hazel dropped the remote control onto the carpet. While she studied my face a smirk twisted her lips.
That look on her face unsettled me, it wasn’t what I’d expected. “To what you said,” I clarified. “I don’t want to stop doing it with you. If I can’t ... If we can’t ...” I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair with the sheer frustration of it all. “If all we can do is watch each other, Aunt Hazel, well I’ll take that.”
“If there was another way, Carl ...”
My aunt shifted on the settee; she patted the seat next to her. I sat down, my cock already stiffening at Hazel’s proximity. I could smell her scent and feel the heat from her body. It took all my self-control not to launch myself at her.
“But I can’t let myself,” Aunt Hazel continued. “I couldn’t trust myself, Carl.”
I heard my aunt murmur the final sentence, the admission, and my cock pulsed. We masturbated together again later that evening, and in the days that followed I watched Hazel’s underwear bulging with frantic activity while she fingered her pussy and stared at me pulling on my cock. Every time, trying to find a chink in her armour, in an attempt to push my aunt into revealing her body, I’d ask at some point for her to show herself. I’d beg to taste her, most often just as Hazel began to shudder and moan, her face melting with pleasure in the seconds before she came. I hoped that if I could catch her at just the right time, if I picked the perfect moment, a second in time of weakness, then I’d be in. I hoped that if I caught her at the perfect moment I would see my aunt’s sex all wet and hot and swollen, that she’d let me lick her and slide my cock into her body.
But it didn’t happen, and Hazel remained determined.
Saturday April 20th
That is until a change came one afternoon, a Saturday afternoon three weeks after it started. Arriving home laden with carrier bags after a visit to the supermarket I went in through the back door, the one that led straight into the kitchen.
“I’m back!” I called out after dumping the shopping onto the kitchen table.
“So you are,” Aunt Hazel said, appearing in the doorway that led into the kitchen from the hall. “Let’s get this unpacked.” She paused and I got a sense she had something to add. “I’ve got a surprise for you afterwards.”
My mind ran with myriad scenarios, I felt my heart begin to race; my legs trembled and, set on its usual hair trigger, my cock thickened instantly. While we worked together unpacking the shopping and setting cans in the cupboards, cheese and milk in the fridge, I studied my aunt with a surreptitious eye. I noticed the sly smirk that I’d grown accustomed to, and recognised that the surprise she had in store would be a good one. She moved around the kitchen with my eyes following her, my head spinning with possibilities.
“Come into the living room,” Hazel breathed when the unpacking was complete, the shopping stowed.
‘Wuh-what is it?” I stammered, following her along the hall like an eager puppy.
My aunt glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “Wait and see, but I think you’ll like it.”
Anticipation and sexual arousal coiled in my guts when she told me to sit down in the very chair I’d occupied the night it had all started.
“There,” Hazel breathed seductively. “Are you comfy?” She smiled as though she knew a secret. “Good. Now,” my aunt continued. “I know you’ve been on at me for weeks to let you ... well, you know ... See more.”
“Yes,” I sighed, nodding with such eagerness that I heard the vertebrae in my neck click. I shuffled in the chair, wriggling with the pent up expectation of a kid at Christmas. Swallowing heavily I stared at her. “Yes,” I repeated, “I have.”
Hazel moved in front of the chair and stood there, hands on hips while she studied me. “I bought some stockings,” she whispered.
I gasped when she suddenly lifted the hem of the dress up to her waist, gulping out a hoarse, “Oh, fuck ...”
“Do you like them, Carl? Do you like my legs in stockings? And what about the shoes? I got them ‘specially for you, to give you something to look at. They make my legs look good, eh, Carl?”
“Hazel,” I moaned, my hand pawing at my groin. “Oh, Hazel ...”
“That’s not all.” The woman turned and walked away from me. She went to the old sofa and turned to face me again. “I thought it was time I showed you more.”
And then my aunt hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and slid the scrap of cotton down her legs. She sat on the sofa and reclined, her long legs parting to reveal her pussy.
“Fuck,” I groaned, eyes locked on my aunt’s pubic bush, a dense covering of fair hair matted with her arousal. “Aunt Hazel, fuck, Aunt Hazel, I didn’t know.”
The knowing smirk twitched when Hazel splayed herself wide with her fingertips. “Didn’t know what, Carl?”
I gulped, my eyes held by the sight of my aunt’s hirsute vulva. “That you’re all natural. I didn’t know you kept your ... you know. All that hair.”
“Oh,” my aunt nodded. “You thought I shaved it all off?” Hazel pulled at the crinkly covering with her fingers. “No, darling, I keep it as it is.” She pouted at me, eyes narrowing to slits. “Why, don’t you like it?”
Swallowing again, I stammered a hasty: “No, Aunt Hazel, I didn’t mean ... That is, I like it, yes, I like it.” My eyes bulged and I nodded eagerly. ‘I love it, Aunty. Just seeing you all bare. Please,” I whined, can I lick it now? Won’t you let me? Please.”
“Same rules,” Hazel whispered. “No touching me, no fucking, but I want to play with it in front of you like we have been doing. I want you to watch me while I watch you.”
“Jesus, Hazel,” I groaned at my mother’s sister. “Can’t I just lick it? Please. Just once. I promise I won’t ask again if I can just lick it once.”
“You’re a naughty boy, Carl,” my aunt admonished with a smile. She slid the tip of a forefinger over her clitoris and winced. Her feet, in those heels, came off the carpet. “I’m showing you my pussy like you begged me to all those times before. Don’t be greedy, you know we can’t do anything physical. This is wicked enough, the two of us masturbating in front of each other. I imagine that’s as bad a sin as it gets, Carl.”
“But, Aunt Hazel—” I moaned, desperation cracking my voice.
“No, Carl,” she responded. “Get your cock out and wank for me. Watch me tickle my pussy and you tug that lovely big dick of yours.” She sighed, a finger describing languid circles around her vulva. “Nothing’s changed. We still can’t do anything else, I just thought I’d treat you and let you see me for a change. I wish we could fuck, Carl, I’d love to feel your cock filling me. But we can’t darling, we just can’t.”
And so I had to be content with working my cock while watching my aunt finger her slot. I stared at her, my fist working up and down as she rolled her clit between her thumb and forefinger and occasionally slid a couple of fingers into her opening. Watching my aunt’s face crease with lust as she rubbed herself closer and closer to orgasm had my cock pulsing.
I fisted my length, eyes glued to the matted pubic bush and glistening pink of Hazel’s pussy. “Hazel,” I grunted, “please, let me lick it. I’m so fucking horny.”
When I rose to my feet and staggered, waddled like a penguin with the hobbles of my jeans around my shins, my aunt held up a straight arm, palm outward, fingers splayed. “Don’t!” she cried. “Don’t touch me, Carl.”
Looking beyond her hand to the determined set of Hazel’s jaw, I grimaced and hissed at her through gritted teeth. “Look at you,” I moaned, “just look at you, you’re so fucking lovely, so fucking beautiful.” I buckled at the waist and grunted as the stuff squirted from the eye of my cock. “Fuck,” I blurted, the word bursting out of me while thick gouts of jizm flicked across my aunt’s stockings.
I groaned and hissed and cursed while the heavy rain of semen spurted out of me.
“Oh!” Aunt Hazel yelped when the stuff splashed onto her legs. “You’re cumming. Look at that, look at all that stuff coming out of you.”
My aunt rubbed herself, her eyes locked on my spitting penis. She came, frantic and urgent as my deluge subsided to a dribble, heavy spats of cum plopping onto her shoes.
When it was all over I stood there, my penis oozing as it wilted.
My aunt gazed up at me and waved a hand at the gobs of glistening spunk clinging to her dark stockings. “Look at the bloody mess you made, Carl.” Her finger split her labia and she winced, hissing as she sucked in a quick breath. “Such a mess,” she added, “but it was such fun watching you do it.” Hazel shooed me away with a wave of her hand before she hauled herself upright from where she’d been sprawled on the sofa. “That’s enough for now, Carl. I don’t want you to get over-excited.” My aunt grinned at me. “But I think we’ll be doing that again later.” She paused and her mouth twisted into that teasing smirk. “If you want to, that is.”
“I want to, Aunt Hazel,” I murmured, nodding.
“Good,” my aunt replied. She rose to her feet and tutted when she noticed the gobbets of semen decorating her shoes. You really are a dirty young man, Carl,” she said. “I hope you’re going to be that dirty later.”
Hazel rose to her feet and, holding the hem of her dress up to her waist, her underwear around her ankles, she grabbed at my tee-shirt and pulled me close to her.
I jerked forward, surprised by my aunt’s actions.
“That was surprise number one,” the woman breathed. She was so close I felt the warmth of her breath zephyr over my cheek. “There’s another one in store for you later.”
Hazel held me there for several long beats, her blue eyes holding mine, and for a moment, a single mad, joyous second I thought, just imagined for a moment that Hazel might move closer for a kiss.
But instead she dropped the fistful of my tee-shirt and, after stepping out of her underwear, slipped past me and out of the room.
“Oh my God,” I muttered. What further surprise could Hazel have for me other than to, finally, after all the begging I’d done, to allow me to taste her pussy?
But hadn’t she just reinforced the conditions of our game-playing? Hadn’t she, in the moments between her startling exhibition and me tugging my cock, told me that nothing had changed, that we still weren’t going to do anything more than masturbate together?
So what could she mean by another surprise? What could my aunt have in store?
We ate dinner, with me sitting at one end of the deal table while Hazel took delicate bites of steak and salad at the opposite end. By tacit agreement we kept off the subject of our mutual masturbation and the surprise. Of course, while we both grinned at each other, sipping wine that Hazel had requested, my cock remained on high alert, perpetually stiff, pre-cum leaking out of the eye in anticipation.
Hazel dropped the knife and fork onto her empty plate and regarded me from across the table. Night had fallen, the blinds were drawn and the lights set low, the dimmer rheostat twisted far to the left. The whole scene was one of intimacy, as though nothing else existed in the universe except for us in our romantic bubble.
“Are you having fun with me, Carl?” my aunt asked. She swirled the red wine in her glass, the liquid ruby dark in the subdued light. Hazel’s eyes glinted with mischief, I saw the flash of her teeth when she grinned. “I am,” Hazel added. “I love watching you when you pull your cock. And I know it’s been a bit one-sided, but I’d like to move things on a little now.”
My heart, a heavy drum, thumped in the hollow of my chest. I gulped and blinked but said nothing, hoping against hope that my aunt was about to finally acquiesce.
“I’ve been selfish,” Hazel continued. She sipped at the wine, the pause maddening. I wanted to bellow at her to hurry up, to spit it out, to stop tormenting me and just tell me. Oblivious to the turmoil inside me, my aunt carried on. “I’ve been watching your cock and kept myself covered up.”
Another infuriating pause while she took another delicate sip. “And I loved it,” I croaked, interrupting. “Oh, Aunt Hazel, if you only knew.”
Hazel tossed her head and nodded. “What makes you think I don’t know, Carl?” my aunt murmured, staring into my eyes. “I think I know how you feel. I know how desperate you are to touch me, I feel it too.” Hazel sighed. “So today I thought I’d let you see me, down there, between my legs.”
My God, was it really going to happen, was Hazel on the verge of telling me she wanted to get physical? Were we going to fuck?
“But you know the conditions, Carl.”
The words hit me like a physical blow, a sledgehammer of disappointment. It was more of the same old shit. Anger, a hot balloon of ire swelled in my throat, tears of frustration pricked behind my eyes. I stood up and beat my fists on the table, shouting into her shocked face that I’d had enough of her cock teasing, that I wanted more. It all spewed out of me, the days and weeks of frustration, of not sleeping, of having her on my mind every fucking second of the day and night.
Well, that’s what I wanted to do and say, but in reality I just sat there and let disappointment kick me in the teeth.
“I feel it too, Carl,” my aunt was saying. “You don’t think I don’t want to feel you inside me?” Hazel snorted and rolled her eyes as she reached for the wine glass. “I’d love to open my legs and feel the weight of you covering me as we kiss and make love. Dammit, Carl,” she hissed, her face twisting with her own frustrated desires, “when I see you cum I wonder how it would feel if you were spurting inside me.” She paused and swallowed the last of the red before reaching for the bottle. “But doing that, if we fucked and you came inside me ... No, Carl, that simply cannot happen. Just think, if I got pregnant with your baby ...”
A frisson of something primordial shivered through me at the thought of impregnating my aunt. It was more than lust or desire, more an idea that appealed to me on some visceral, primitive level. Of course the reality would be so much different, but for a moment ...
“But I do have something in mind, Carl.” Hazel pushed the chair away with the back of her legs as she stood up. “Come on.” She nodded towards the door and grabbed the wine bottle by the neck before picking up her glass and striding, a woman with a purpose, from the room. My aunt paused just beyond the door and threw a glance over one shoulder. “Come on, Carl,” she said, an eyelid dropping onto her cheek, “let’s go and play.”
I followed my aunt’s derrière up the stairs, somehow resisting the urge to drop my wine glass and grab the cheeks of her backside swaying so tantalisingly close, just above me on the ascent. I could see myself lifting Hazel’s dress and tugging her underwear to one side. I could hear her yelp of surprise, followed by a delighted chuckle as I eased her to her knees on the stair riser and splayed her labia with my thumbs from behind. In my head I pictured my aunt’s pussy, gaping and sodden, her pubic hair matted with her arousal before I slid my tongue into her opening. The vulgar scene also featured my aunt’s sphincter winking at me as I used my thumbs to part her flesh, all of her secret and intimate places revealed. Would she utter a dark, curdled groan if I dabbed the tip of my tongue into her anus?
“In my bedroom, Carl,” Aunt Hazel murmured when she stepped onto the landing. Her voice broke my coarse reverie. Images of my aunt’s puckered sphincter lingered for a moment or two. Then Hazel said, “Let’s go. I can’t wait to show you,” and reality trumped fantasy.
Hazel seemed more animated than usual, skittish. Not agitated exactly, just simply more enthusiastic, as though she could barely contain her excitement. My stomach churned at my aunt’s glittery-eyed and infectious exuberance; I had a sense of something momentous and wondered again if we were going to fuck. But hadn’t Hazel made it clear, yet again, maddeningly, infuriatingly reiterating at the kitchen table that the old rules still stood?
But she’d mentioned she had something for me, and I wondered, hopefully, with a thumping heart and jelly legs, what it could be.
“All right, Carl,” my aunt said, turning to face me, hands on hips after placing the wine bottle and glass on the small, three-tier chest of drawers at her bedside. “I want you to strip. Naked, Carl, completely nude.”
“Naked?” I asked. This was a first, a real step forward since every other occasion had seen me simply unzipping and hauling forth my erection. “Are you sure, Aunt Hazel?” I finished with a gulp.
“Quite sure, Carl,” the woman replied as she tossed me a devilish grin. “And when you’re nude, well, Carl, I’m going to strip off, too.”
I was going to see all of her, in the buff! It took my brain several seconds to catch up, a few moments during which I stood and gawped at my aunt in disbelief.
Hazel chuckled and nodded at me. “The quicker you get out of those clothes ...” she said, pursing her lips, eyes widening.
I read my aunt’s and understood the meaning: do you want to see me naked or not? My fingers went for my belt buckle immediately the penny dropped.
“Are you always stiff?” Hazel quipped. She gestured towards the jib of my cock, a curved and unyielding priapus of such stature and dimensions as I’d never experienced before. “It always seems to be ready.” My aunt gave an impatient shake of her head. “Never mind,” she continued, her eyebrows arching. She shrugged as if my perennial hard-on was a subject for questioning at a later time, as though we had more pressing business at hand. “I’ll take it as a compliment, she finished.”
“Fuck,” I muttered, my hand going to my cock when my aunt slipped the bootlace straps of her dress over her shoulders and, with a shimmy and a smile, let the garment pool at her feet. She lifted the dress with the toe of one shoe, casually flipping the redundant clothing to a corner of the room.
In her bra and knickers Hazel reached for her wine glass, bending at the waist, leaning forward slightly in profile. As she moved I took in the sight of her body, lean as a greyhounds with her taut stomach; long legs; breasts tight and high. My aunt’s underwear, a triangle of cotton densely packed in front with her vulva, cleaved Hazel’s buttocks in two, a strip of dental floss wedged deep into the crease. “You approve, Carl?” the woman asked after a sip of wine.
I nodded, my head moving on my neck with short, rapid jerks. “Fuck, yeah,” I moaned.
“There’s more,” Hazel informed me with a leer, her hands reaching behind her back.
All I could do was suck air in past my teeth when my aunt’s breasts, apple-sized and exquisite, the snub-nosed snouts of her nipples uptilted, were revealed to my hungry stare. I gazed in wonder at the sweet undercurve of tit-flesh, my cock pulsing at the sight of Hazel’s elongated nipples and the coins of their areola, the colouring of which were just a shade darker than the breasts themselves.
My aunt’s delighted laugh pealed out of her when she saw my face. “I take it you like my boobs,” she said, covering them with her palms, fingers splayed.
“Lovely,” I croaked, licking my lips while I stared at Hazel’s nipples peeping from between the web of her fingers.
“What about my bum?”
My aunt turned and hooked her thumbs into the almost non-existent waistband of her underwear, and with an exaggerated thrust of her buttocks in my direction, eased her knickers to a point just below the fleshy globes of her arse-cheeks. She cast a lascivious glance over one shoulder, her tongue, pink and glistening, sliding over her lips as she then lowered her underwear to her ankles.
Hazel returned to the upright, and with the same casual flick of her foot as with her dress, sent the insignificant scrap of her briefs across the room. She paused and threw a casual glance over her shoulder once more. I could see the feminine curve of her, the long, knobbed spine, the tapering of her back into the narrow waist before the sweeping arc of her hips. My eyes focussed on the indentation left by my aunt’s bra where the straps had dug into her flesh, and then all that detail fluttered from my mind, like birds rising from a field, when Hazel turned to face me.
At first her hands covered her pubis while she offered an Aphrodite’s smile, regarding me from beneath lowered lashes, her expression coy. Then she grinned and revealed herself to me fully.
“Beautiful,” I breathed, my hand cranking at my cock.
“There’s more, Carl,” my aunt repeated. She nodded at my fist, busy against my dick. “Don’t get too worked up. Not yet. It’s early, darling and I’ve got a surprise in store.”
I wondered what more my aunt could possibly have in store for me. I’d assumed that our nudity was the surprise, but I was mistaken. What followed took my breath away, left me reeling and craving more.
While I watched, my hand still cranking my erection, Hazel walked towards me. “Have a drink and then put the glass down,” the woman breathed. For a second I thought my aunt was going to kiss me, but instead she just watched me drink and then took the glass from my hands.
After placing the wine glass next to hers, Hazel turned and walked to the bed, hips swaying. She kicked off her shoes and then knelt, at first on her knees before dropping onto outstretched arms. The bitch taunted me with her hips thrust high, her pussy peeping from between her thighs. It was a pose very similar to the one I’d imagined on the stairs, the scene where I’d fantasised about probing her dirty-hole with my tongue, only this image was so much better since it was live, my aunt in all her naked glory.
Hazel reached behind her back, waist twisting as she dug the fingertips of one hand into her skin. “Take a look, Carl,” she purred, and I saw the smudge of my aunt’s anus and the gooey pout of her pussy while she held herself splayed. “Isn’t that what you’ve been begging to see these past few weeks? Do you like it, darling?”
“I want to fuck you,” I growled. I took a pace towards the woman, intent on stabbing her opening with my cock. I wanted to feel her insides clench around me, to feel the liquid heat of her enveloping my cock.
Hazel cried out and collapsed onto the bed before rolling onto her side, knees clamped, a protective hand covering her sex.
“No, Carl, you can’t do that. You know I can’t let you. Just wank it, Carl,” Hazel hissed at me. “You’ll feel better after you’ve cum. Pull it, my lovely boy. Wank your cock for me.”
“I’m so horny for you, Aunty,” I sobbed. “We’re both naked; you said you wanted to do it, too. Look at me; I’m so hard, so fucking stiff. You said you’d love to feel it, you could have me, Hazel. Please, let’s just do it.”
“Wank your cock,” my aunt insisted. She rolled onto her back and opened her legs, her eyes on me as though gauging the possibility I was about to lunge. Whatever she saw must have satisfied her because after a momentary pause she splayed her labia and peeled back the prepuce hood to reveal a pink clitoris.
Hazel slid a finger over her clit, gasping and wincing before she groaned out about how fucking lovely it felt.
“Both of us, naked, Carl, don’t you just love it?” my aunt moaned, her head rolling side-to-side. She held the pink nub between a forefinger and thumb, teasing it with a curious action, as though it was a tiny penis she was jerking off.
I could see the lust sliding out of Hazel’s opening, a dribble of desire that trickled down the crease of her buttocks to stain the bed cover under her. Once again her arousal had matted her luxuriant bush into straggly strands, like seaweed on the shore. Hazel’s stomach tensed with effort when she slid a finger into her opening, her legs folding at the knees, toes pointed as a ballerina’s.
“Do you want to see something wicked, Carl?” My aunt asked, her eyes burning.
Before I could answer, Hazel rose and shuffled across the bed on her knees. She opened one of the drawers in the bedside table and reached inside.
“Shit,” I muttered. “Fucking hell. Hazel, are you going to ...?”
“Yes,” my aunt replied, grinning at me while she settled on the bed, her spine against the headboard, a pillow supporting her.
I stared at her in appalled fascination, unable to comprehend exactly what was unravelling in front of my eyes.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I blasphemed as I watched my aunt’s legs fall apart, boneless. “Oh fuck, oh my God. Hazel ...”
My aunt chuckled and slid a translucent red, penis-shaped vibrator of modest dimensions between her labia. She teased her clit with the head of the thing, an angry buzzing coming from the device as Hazel gasped and groaned.
“Wank for me, Carl,” Hazel grunted, her face twisting into a mask of lust, an expression that appeared to be agony, but which was, in reality, pure pleasure. “I’m going to fuck my cunt with this thing. You pull your dick and cum for me. Watch me, Carl, you just watch Aunty Hazel fucking her wet cunt.”
I staggered towards the bed with my fist working like a piston while Hazel positioned herself on one elbow and jammed the vibrator into her body. I watched as she took half-a-dozen or so deep stabs at her pussy with the thing before she slid it out and pressed the vibrating head against her clitoris.
“Are you going to cum?” Hazel moaned at me. She watched for my response with eyes heavy-lidded and glazed with desire. “Are you going to do it, Carl?”
Ignoring her completely I clambered onto the bed and knelt between my aunt’s legs. “What are you doing?” she asked, obviously suspicious, but kept sawing at her sex with the dildo in her fist.
“Don’t worry,” I managed to gurgle. “I’m not going to try to put it in.”
My aunt mauled at one small breast with her free hand as she continued to watch me. “Are you sure?”
I grimaced and swore when I felt the surge of my climax coming at me like a train. “I promise,” I grunted.
“Oh my God,” Hazel gasped. “Are you going to cum?”
I nodded and put a hand on one of my aunt’s knees. The word rasped out of me: “Yeah,” I grunted, and then pushed Hazel’s knee so her legs were stretched wide. I shuffled forward and thrust my hips forward, working my dick, the head of my cock aimed at my aunt’s pussy.
“You said you wouldn’t!” Hazel yelped, and then she gave a loud cry of surprise when the first spurt of semen flicked into her pubic hair.
“I’m not putting it in,” I grunted, “I’m cumming on your pussy. Take it, Aunty, take the hot stuff right there.”
“On my cunt, Carl!” Hazel cried. She pulled the dildo out of her body as gouts of semen splashed onto her forearm. The stuff kept pumping out of me. “Spray me with it right there!”
I fisted my cock and boggled at the sight of jizm splashing onto the target of Hazel’s clitoris. Seeing that, the ribbon of cum flicking from my body onto hers made me groan. I kept on jerking away, semen pouring out of me in an indiscriminate spray, the beaten zone being my aunt’s pussy, thighs, forearm and fingers. Finally the deluge turned to a dribble, a long, clear string dangling from the end of my cock. Not that I paid too much attention to that, being more intent on watching the viscous gloop sliding into the pool of goo bubbling at Hazel’s scarlet core.
As my orgasm tapered and cooled I stared in awe, my breath coming in great gulps while Hazel slid the dildo back into her opening, probing deep as she came, hissing and spitting through her climax, her fingers sliding through the cum I’d rained onto her clit. When Hazel stabbed her pussy with the vibrator her torso juddered and breasts shivered. She dropped the dildo and used her fingers to smear glistening, clingy ropes of spunk into her pubic bush. Hazel’s eyes fixed on me, focussing when she saw me staring at her with my mouth hanging open. For a second her eyes fired bullets of lust, large calibre rounds that pierced me to my core before my aunt pouted and held herself wide open, exhibiting herself in all her lewd glory.
‘That was bad,” the woman purred, cum-spattered fingers pushed into her opening.
Unable to stop myself I crouched low over my aunt’s body, my mouth going to hers. Our lips touched and, following the briefest hesitation – a stiffening of her muscles and a gasp of surprise – Hazel relaxed and breathed a sigh into my open mouth. We kissed, Hazel’s tongue sliding over mine. I felt my aunt’s fingers close around my cock and jerked my head back, breaking that first kiss to stare at the hand squeezing me.
When I groaned her name it broke the spell and Hazel dropped my cock immediately.
“We kissed,” she muttered, her eyes and mouth wide, expression aghast. “Oh fuck, Carl,” she added, fingers flying to her mouth. “We shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have touched you.”
Exhilarated by the kiss, ecstatic with joy at that intimate contact and the sensation of my aunt’s fingers squeezing my cock, I growled, “But we did, Aunt Hazel. We kissed and you touched me.”
Long seconds stretched between us while Hazel stared into my face. I could feel my heart hammering, the pulse so strong that my temples throbbed in sync with the beat. When I looked into my aunt’s face I had a fleeting impression that she was struggling with some internal dilemma. Was she fighting to suppress her own urges? Did she want to kiss me again but was still clinging to her policy of no touching?
I didn’t realise I’d been holding my breath until my aunt, after the intensity in her gaze softened, whispered, “Kiss me again.” Hazel slid down the bed to the horizontal, her arms closing around me. “Kiss your aunt, Carl,” she invited, smiling up at me.
“Are you sure?” I gulped, and then settled between the woman’s legs, my body covering hers when I saw her nod.
Sunday April 21st
I woke up when someone stirred next to me in my bed. It wasn’t until I opened my eyes that I realised the bed wasn’t mine.
My aunt, her naked back presented to me as she sat on the edge, swivelled at the waist.
“You’re awake,” she said, unnecessarily I thought since my eyes were open and it was obvious I wasn’t asleep. “Back in a minute.”
When Hazel stood and walked out of the bedroom, the feminine roll of her hips and the slight shiver of her buttocks as she moved caused a twitch of interest in my cock. My hand automatically went to it, fingers idly caressing the thickening stalk while I pondered the change in circumstances.
It wasn’t that my aunt had finally succumbed; there was still resistance to any form of contact other than her touching my cock with her hand, and the kissing.
Oh my God, the kissing.
At the thought of such an intimate act with Aunt Hazel, which, for some reason seemed more personal and close than fucking, my cock swelled quickly.
I heard the tinkle of her water into the bowl, heard the toilet flush, and then, a few seconds later, after a rush of water from the sink while Hazel washed her hands, my aunt returned.
“Again?” she asked, leaning against the door jamb, arms folded beneath her small breasts. “Does that thing ever get soft?”
“Not when you’re around, Aunt Hazel,” I muttered. I stared at the wedge of hair between my aunt’s thighs. “You’re so sexy, so lovely.”
Hazel pushed off the doorframe with her elbow and slowly came towards me. The bed dipped under her weight when she settled her back against the padding of her pillow. My aunt’s legs fell open at the same time as she reached for me, her hand resting on my stomach for a moment, fingers splayed before I took the hint and relinquished control of my erection.
“Do it for me again, Carl,” Aunt Hazel murmured, her fist moving over me. Movement caught my eye and I threw a glance at where my aunt’s forearm sawed back and forth. “Come on, darling boy, cum for me again.” Hazel’s tongue slid over her lips while her hot-eyed gaze locked on the length of gristle clamped in her fist. “I love seeing all that stuff just pumping out of you.” Hazel wriggled, squirming onto her side as she swapped hands.
Using my heels to shove myself up the bed a little, I too then eased onto my side. Facing my aunt, her hands working at both of us, I craned forward to kiss her.
“We shouldn’t do this,” Hazel murmured, her words belied by the excitement and eagerness burning in her eyes. The upturned corners of her mouth only added weight to the contradiction – Hazel loved doing it, the kissing, regardless of what she might say.
My aunt moaned as our lips touched and then parted. Her tongue darted into my mouth, filling me literally with squirming flesh while, in a metaphorical sense, Hazel’s tongue also filled me with the urgency of her desire. I heard my aunt groan, her breath bursting into my open mouth.
“Hazel,” I muttered, with both our faces a scant inch apart. “Can we do it now? Can we just fuck?”
I saw her head shake in refusal. “No, Carl,” she replied, the words rasping from behind the portcullis of gritted teeth. “No, we can’t.”
How could she do it? How could my aunt deny the call of her body? If her facial expression and the sounds that slipped out of her throat were any indication, if the words she used during these masturbatory frenzies were anything to go by, then my aunt was as aroused as I was. It was unbelievable that, if she felt the same way I did, she could withstand the urgent need, the desperate urge that boiled inside us.
I kissed Hazel again, moaning and panting as, mindless to her rebuttal, my hands reached for her shoulders and I forced her onto her back.
“I’m going to fuck you, Hazel,” I snarled, kneeling upright. “I’m just gonna stick it in and fuck your hairy pussy.”
My aunt let out a sharp cry. “Don’t, Carl.” She reached for my cock, which had slipped from her grasp during the brief transit from her resting on her side to where I’d flipped her unceremoniously onto her back. “Just let me wank you. Let me pull you off.” Her fist worked at me, fingers tight as she cranked my shaft. “Cum all over me if you want to, but don’t fuck me ... Don’t put it in, Carl, not bareback ... We can’t fuck if you’re going to squirt cum inside me. I don’t want a baby.”
Again the thought of filling my aunt with baby-making sperm sent an arterial burst of lust through me. The cum boiled along my shaft, jizm jetting out of me so the first splash landed smack in the hollow of my aunt’s throat, a pool of cum glistening there while more of the stuff flicked between the little hillocks of Hazel’s tits.
My aunt’s legs came up, her knees locking at my waist, and from where she pulled me on top of her, my cock still pumping the hot stuff. Hazel held my head between her palms and brought her face up from the bed to kiss me.
“I shouldn’t have started it,” Hazel breathed when the kiss broke and I slumped on top of her, cum squelching between us with a liquid fart.
Walking into the living room later that day I found Hazel sitting watching television.
Glancing at me, my aunt said, “It’s Earth Day tomorrow.”
This meant nothing to me and I shrugged. “What day?”
Hazel pointed at the television. “Earth Day,” she informed me as I slumped onto the sofa next to her. Twenty-second of April, a special day put aside to celebrate the planet; a day to wonder at the fragility of our existence and to give thanks.”
“That all sounds like some hippy bollocks to me,” I responded, far more interested in my aunt’s legs and the memory of the luxuriant thatch nestled at their junction.
Hazel snorted at me and rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think it’s a good idea, Carl? Don’t you want to celebrate our planet, our wonderful home?” My aunt slid away from me across the sofa. She swivelled her torso to look at me, her stare a confrontation.
Anxiety rippled down my spine when I sensed Hazel’s irritation at my indifference and I backpedalled quickly. “Well, I suppose so; it’s just something I’ve never heard of before.”
“I know what,” my aunt said, her voice bright with eagerness. “We could take the van and go up onto the moors tomorrow, Carl. We could make a day of it, get an early start and drive up to the top near Goathland. We could take a picnic up there and just enjoy the view.” My aunt slid her backside over the settee again, back towards me. Nudging me in the ribs with the point of her elbow, she emphasised her point. “It could be our own private way of celebrating Earth Day. What do you think, Carl? What do you say?”
“Tomorrow’s Monday, Aunt Hazel. I’ve got a lecture at eleven.” My aunt rolled her eyes at my stern-faced refusal. “And don’t you have work? I finished.
“You’re so serious, Carl.” The elbow jabbed me in the side again.
“Stop doing that,” I grimaced, moving my arse across the leather to get some distance between us, beyond the range of that bony elbow.
“Well,” Hazel countered, you are serious, such a worrier.” Then, as I watched, I saw Hazel’s expression shift. “I know,” she smirked, “we could have a little bet.”
A dribble of dismay trickled into my guts. “A bet?” I replied, dubious at my aunt’s suddenly sly countenance. “What do you mean – a bet?”
“We-ell,” Hazel said, “how about ...” She paused and showed two rows of white, even, teeth. “How about this for a deal? If you touch me, or your cock, for the rest of today, say until ...” Hazel paused again, this time casting her eyes towards the ceiling, a forefinger tapping her chin in mock consideration. “Say until six tomorrow morning?” she continued, returning her attention to me with a grin. “If you touch me or play with your cock, we go on a picnic up on the moors. Agreed?”
“And if I don’t touch myself ,or you?”
My aunt hit me with the sucker punch. “You can fuck me,” she replied with blithe indifference and an airy wave of a hand.
“Really?” I croaked, my mind reeling. “Do you mean it?”
My aunt pulled a face, her nose wrinkling as she pouted, apparently considering her offer. “Yes,” she replied with an emphatic nod. “I mean it, Carl. If you keep your hands to yourself between now and six in the morning ...”
Hazel left it unsaid. “Jesus,” I blasphemed with a sigh. “Oh Jesus. Oh fuck. Aunt Hazel ...”
“Think you can do it?” my aunt asked, rising to her feet.
Recovering slightly I responded with some bravado. “For those stakes, I should think so, Hazel.”
The woman looked down at me, a smirk playing on her lips. “We’ll see,” she said, winking at me before she left me sitting there, the television mumbling away in the background.
“You bitch,” I gasped when, after responding to a call from my aunt, I walked into the kitchen.
Hazel grinned at me, hands on her hips, head tilted to one side. “I thought I might just see how much willpower you have, Carl,” she said. “What do you think?” My aunt lifted one foot and pretended to admire the pillar-box red, high-heeled shoe. “Do you like my shoes?”
“You fucking bitch,” I croaked in reply, my eyes taking in the sight of my aunt, naked except for the shoes, dark stockings and a suspender belt.
Hazel flashed a grin at me. “Come here and feel my tits,” she offered in crude invitation, thrusting her chest towards me, the twin magnets of her nipples sorely tempting. My aunt cupped her breasts in her palms and thumbed the thick, elongated teats. “Suck them, Carl. Come on, come over here and kiss me.” I took two stiff-legged, robotic paces towards the woman, arms lifting, my fingers already grasping the air. “That’s it, baby,” she breathed, pouting, eyes slits of feline cunning as I lurched towards her. “Come and get me, feel my pussy, it’s so wet.”
My cock reacted instantly, stiffening with breathtaking suddenness, upright and rock hard in the blink of an eye. I moaned and swallowed heavily, my target being my own aunt’s breasts and the slick crease hidden by her pubic hair.
Hazel widened her stance, bracing herself for the weight of my assault.
I stopped less than a foot away, my breath coming in rapid gulps while my heart thumped a deep boom-boom, a bass beat that I could see physically moving my tee-shirt on my chest.
“No,” I groaned, a thick and twisted gurgle that clawed its way out of my throat.
“OK,” Hazel said, abruptly nonchalant. She shrugged and turned her rump to me. “Your loss,” she trilled before strolling out of the kitchen, the heels of her whore’s shoes click-clacking on the flag-stoned floor.
Of course, I followed her into the living room.
My aunt sat on the sofa with her legs crossed, her arms outspread against the upright. She smirked at me when I stumbled into the room.
“Are you following me, Carl?” she taunted. Clicking her tongue, Hazel shook her head. “If you keep it up, if you carry on following me around the house, you’ll only make it worse for yourself.” Hazel rose to her feet, posing for me, teasing me with her greyhound slimness and bushy thatch. “I’m going upstairs to my bedroom,” she informed me with a flash of blue eyes. “You’re quite welcome to come along too, but it might get very uncomfortable for you.”
She was right about that; oh my God was she ever right.
Hazel strode over to the bedside cabinet, the small three-tier chest of drawers. I moaned, somehow managing to resist the urge to paw at the hard-on trapped in my jeans. I knew what she was going for, I knew with stomach-churning certainty what she was about to do.
My aunt turned to me, the vibrator in her hand. “Are you sure you want to watch this? I’m going to make this so fucking dirty, Carl.” Hazel sucked the shaped head of the vibrator into her mouth, her eyes fixed on mine as she teased me without mercy. “You think you’ve seen a different side to your quiet, demure Aunt Hazel already, do you, Carl? Did I shock you a couple of weeks ago when we first started this?” The woman nodded at me. “I know I surprised you with being so wicked and bold. Who’d have thought it, eh, nice Hazel, polite Hazel, the well-mannered accountant who never says a swear word, who dresses all conservatively for the office – Who’d believe it if I told them what I do with my nephew?” She giggled with what I took to be delight. “Well, I showed you a different side to me, eh, Carl? I let you see a facet of my personality I keep well hidden, didn’t I?” Hazel settled on the bed, on her side. She raised her torso and leaned on one elbow, one knee cocked towards the ceiling, the other along the quilt. “If you stay there and watch,” my aunt continued with a low chuckle, “you’re going to see me get even worse.”
I stood there, my feet welded to the floor. There was no way I could leave, not after that dark promise. I stood there, eyes bulging while my aunt ran the vibrator between her legs, the blunt end of it splitting her labia.
A low moan gurgled from Hazel’s throat, a treacly gurgle that finished on a sigh. “Fuck,” she muttered, “that feels good on my clit.” My aunt turned her attention to me for a few seconds, winking as she chewed her bottom lip. “I’m going to stab my cunt with this, Carl, I’m going to stab my pussy and imagine it’s your cock fucking into me.” She ran the shaft of the vibrator between the folds of her pussy for several quick slides before presenting the tip of it to her opening. Hazel shifted her weight, moving the supporting arm and collapsed onto the bed, her free hand moving between her legs to where her fingertips then splayed her pussy lips. “Look at that, Carl,” the woman murmured. “Can you see how fucking horny I am? Look at that cunt all hot and wet.” Her body accepted a good five inches out of eight when my aunt suddenly jammed the faux penis into her pussy. I saw her back arch, Hazel’s shoulders and hips taking the weight of her as she thrust up to meet the downward jab. “Fuck me, Carl!” my aunt cried, the vibrator clamped tight in her fist plunging in and out. “Ooh, yeah, fuck Aunty’s greasy pussy with that big cock. Make me scream, darling, punish that pussy, tear that cunt apart.”
“Hazel ... Jesus, Aunt Hazel,” I gasped, unable to believe what my eyes saw, what my ears heard. “That isn’t you.” I swallowed heavily, gulping down the shock.
The woman on the bed turned a tortured and twisted visage towards me. I hardly recognised her as my aunt, my formerly staid aunt, my mother’s sister who had always, that is until a couple of weeks ago, been such a paragon of virtue and decency. Who was this creature jabbing a vibrator into her body? Who was this woman, her features warped with lust and from whose mouth poured a torrent of sewer talk? I didn’t recognise her as Hazel; this wasn’t the aunt I knew.
“It’s me, Carl,” Hazel grunted. “I promise you it’s me. This is just part of me I keep hidden.” She levered herself back onto one elbow and grinned at me. “Why don’t you just give in, darling?” My aunt slowly eased the dildo into her body until I thought the thing would disappear inside her. “Why don’t you just take your cock out and give it a stroke? You know it’ll feel so fucking good.”
“I want to, Aunty,” I moaned. My hands trembled, hovering close to the front of my jeans. “I want to wank it and watch you, but I want to fuck you more.”
Hazel nodded and, to my even greater shock, rolled onto her knees, her arse pointing towards me. She shuffled her knees wider and twisted her body so she could look back at me over her shoulder.
“How about if I say you can lick my cunt?” Hazel purred. She let go of the vibrator, which hung half in and half out of her body, somehow staying inside her until it slowly slid out, inch by inch, and fell onto the bed between her knees. “Come on, Carl,” my aunt murmured, her voice a notch above a narcotic whisper. “Look at how wet I am. See my slippery cunt?”
I could see all right; I could clearly make out the heavy, pouting flaps of Aunt Hazel’s labia dangling in the sodden and matted forest of her pussy hair. The bitch even pulled at the flesh of her buttocks to reveal the dark stain of her sphincter.
“Oh fuck. Oh God,” I groaned.
“You’ve been pestering me for days, Carl, weeks even about licking my pussy. Well here it is, its’ all yours. You can lick me, Carl. You can taste your aunt’s cunt.” The woman, that godawful temptress swung her hips and pulled her skin tighter so that her opening gaped at me, the lips distorted and stretched.
And again her dirty-hole winked at me, that single, blind eye.
“Lick it,” Hazel breathed. “My clit’s throbbing. I need a man to suck my pussy. I want you to do it, Carl. Please.”
In two steps I was on her, my fingers digging into the taut flesh of my aunt’s buttocks while my mouth devoured her. Hazel gave a sharp cry, a bark of triumph a second or two after my lips slid over her slippery core. I could hear my own muffled grunts and slurps as I tongued Hazel’s pussy. The noises I made sounded to me like an animal in a zoo, a great ravenous beast salivating and slobbering over its meal.
“Hazel,” I gasped, “I can’t help myself. I couldn’t stop it. I wanted to win the bet and fuck you, but you were too ... too ... You were just too ...”
“Shut up and suck my cunt, Carl,” my aunt snarled. She reached a hand back and clamped her fingers around the back of my skull, forcing my mouth against her body. “You wanted it, you begged me often enough; well there it is. Lick my pussy. See if you can get me there with your mouth.”
And so, for the next fifteen minutes or so, not that I had much idea of time, I didn’t have the presence of mind for that, after my aunt rolled onto her back and opened her legs for me, I slurped and slobbered over her sex, my tongue probing into her opening and flicking over her clit.
Hazel guided me, instructed me with movements of her body, a shifting of her hips or a thrust at my face, a sigh or a moan or even an obscene grunt or two. I licked the nub of her clitoris, my tongue lapping at her like a thirsty dog at a toilet bowl, all the time on my stomach, finding friction for my cock between my body and the bed as it leaked per-cum into my underwear.
Eventually my aunt climaxed, a great, juddering paroxysm of limbs accompanied by a potty-mouthed venting as the woman thrashed and groaned and sobbed her pleasure.
“Kiss me, darling,” Aunt Hazel panted when the tsunami wave had rolled over her. “I want to taste my pussy on your tongue.”
And, as we kissed, my aunt reached for my flies. I knew I’d lost the bet, but I didn’t care too much about it at that stage, all I was concerned about was shucking my jeans down to my thighs so my aunt could grip my cock and wank the pent-up frustration out of me.
If I had to go on a picnic on the moors, then so be it.
“Cum for me, darling,” my Aunt Hazel murmured in my ear.
I knew it wouldn’t be too long before I did.
Monday April 22nd (Earth Day)
Hazel and I packed the camper, an old VW that Hazel had paid a small fortune to have restored. Just a quirk of my aunt’s, she loves seeing those vans, goes to shows and fetes and everything. She does the little wave whenever another camper’s path crosses hers, as they pass on the road.
I put the picnic hamper, an old-fashioned wicker affair with a hinged double lid and a hooped handle, into the body of the VW, the final item to be packed. My participation was somewhat reluctant. I had hoped that I might work on breaking down the final barriers to Hazel’s resistance, but a bet was a bet, I’d lost, and besides, if I’d gone to the lecture we’d only have been apart for the day, with me at uni while my aunt number-crunched all day. This way I got to spend the day with my sexy aunt.
We set off from Leeds, heading east along the A64. As we skirted York, I could see the towers of the minster in the distance, and for some reason experienced a sudden rush of emotion. I turned to watch Hazel as she concentrated on the road, both hands on the wheel, her pretty face set. She was right, I decided as we bucketed along, it would be a good thing to get up on the moors. It promised to be a great day weather-wise, the view would be fantastic over the rolling moors towards the distant ruin of Whitby Abbey, I was in the company of a pretty, very sexy and intelligent woman, the world was turning on its axis, and I had, albeit at the expense of a lecture, a whole day to look forward to in my aunt’s company.
Hazel must have felt the heat of my eyes upon her. “What are you staring at?” she asked, flinging a quick glance at me from the driver’s seat.
“My beautiful aunt,” I replied, the emotion still weighty in my chest.
Hazel cast another quick look my way. “Thank you,” she beamed.
And on we went, by-passing the market town of Malton before taking the slip road to the roundabout on to the A169. I saw the flat-faced facade of the Forest and Vale Hotel through Hazel’s side window when we cut the corner of Pickering town centre before the van began the long, steady ascent up onto the moors.
In the old days, before Hazel found the camper, I doubt the machine could have coped with the steep inclines and frightening dips that it faced on the latter part of the journey. As it was Hazel had to coax the reluctant beast up the punishing inclines, their twists and turns endless, until, finally, the rolling carpet of green lay spread before us, with the beaten pewter of the North Sea on the distant horizon.
“Well,” my aunt said after parking on a patch of gravel set at the side of the road. “Here we are.”
She switched off the ignition and the silence enveloped us. I looked out of the windscreen for a few seconds, surveying the scene before I turned and took in the moors to the left. We had the place to ourselves, what seemed like a huge expanse of countryside for just us two.
“What do you think?”
I swivelled to face my aunt. “I think it was a good idea.” Nodding out of the window, I added, “What a fantastic place to celebrate your Earth Day, Aunt Hazel. Look at it.” Hazel smiled, her expression serene as she sat in silence, hands still on the steering wheel, gazing out with wide blue eyes at the isolation surrounding us. “Who’d have thought we’d have this much space to ourselves. I’m glad I lost the bet.”
“You lost?” my aunt said, grinning. “I recall you got what you wanted.”
“Almost,” I replied, returning the grin.
Hazel held up a forefinger. “Ah,” she said, don’t be so greedy. We’ve already gone much further than I said we could.”
“So why don’t we just—”
My aunt cut me off, mid-sentence. “Go for a walk?” she finished. Laughing, Hazel opened the door and stepped out into the benign mid-morning. “Come on, Carl,” she called back into the shell of the van to where I still sat. “Out you get.” Hazel locked the van. “You never know, anyone could drive past and decide to help themselves.” She offered me a hand. “Let’s take a look around before we open the picnic.”
So off we went, hand-in-hand, like a real couple. I couldn’t imagine being so open and free around where we lived, I could just see the faces, but up there on the moors, with nobody to see us, and even if anyone did chance by they wouldn’t bat an eyelid. To someone who didn’t know us, we were just another couple enjoying a day in the fresh air. OK, the seventeen years age difference might cause a raised eyebrow, perhaps a muttered comment, but at twenty-one I didn’t give a toss for anyone else’s opinion, I was hand-in-hand with a beautiful, sexy woman.
“Can I kiss you, Aunt Hazel?” I asked, halting her with a hand on her hip.
When Hazel stopped, I saw the ugly block of RAF Fylingdales visible over her shoulder.
I recalled the old golf balls that had fascinated me when I’d first seen them, the tracking system so incongruous on the natural beauty of the moors, with the huge, white geodesic domes – hence the golf ball moniker – nestling in the creased folds of the moors. I’d read that the distinctive domes had been usurped by technology, could see they were gone now, and the national early warning system had shrunk to the ugly obelisk visible in the distance.
Oblivious to the miracle of electronic advancement behind her, my aunt turned to face me. “Here, Carl?” she asked quietly.
I shrugged. “Why not?”
Hazel looked around. She grinned at me. “There’s nobody to see.”
“I wouldn’t give a toss if there was, Aunty,” I replied with a growl, my cock stiffening as a matter of course.
I held my aunt’s waist and pulled her close. Our tongues slid and coiled while I savoured a long kiss. As the kiss lengthened, and my dick grew harder, I wondered if there were eyes on us from the sensitive installation across the valley.
We continued with our stroll, my aunt commenting about how we should give thanks that our fragile planet looked after us so well. I kissed her again when she mentioned, with a mournful expression and a catch in her voice about how we, as a species, seemed to be hell bent on abusing the very Earth that gave us life.
“Don’t think like that, Aunty,” I said stroking Hazel’s fine, silky hair. “It won’t do you any good.” I nodded towards the van up on the horizon. “Why don’t we get the basket and find a spot for our picnic? I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry.”
A few minutes later and the wicker basket creaked in my hand as my aunt and I negotiated a path along a faint track peppered with sheep turds. We were in search of a sheltered spot, a place we could hide from the occasional cold breath of wind. The weather might have improved over the last month, but it was still only April, and neither of us particularly wanted to eat while sitting in the van. It was Earth Day after all, so it made sense to enjoy the outdoors.
We found a place, an indentation protected from the breeze by a slab of grey rock. Hazel spread a heavy blanket over the grass, a tartan square complete with tassels along its edges, to protect our backsides. She settled herself down and smiled up at me.
My aunt patted the blanket next to her. “Come on, Carl,” she grinned. “Don’t be shy.”
I sat and crossed my legs, my eyes going to Hazel’s thighs where her light dress, patterned with tiny blue flowers, had ridden up her legs. Reaching a hand to my aunt’s exposed flesh, I leaned towards her. She knew what I wanted and eased closer to me. We kissed again, slow and lingering. My hand slid under Hazel’s skirt, palm gliding over the soft warmth of her inner thigh.
“You’re so sexy,” I murmured, lust warming my groin.
“You’re just a sex maniac,” Hazel retorted. “But I like you that way.” The woman eased back, resting on straight arms behind her, bent legs falling open, the skirt hem tightening against Hazel’s spread legs to reveal the tight-packed underwear beneath.
I uncurled from sitting and knelt in front of my aunt, my hand going back under the hem of the skirt, fingers finding Hazel’s knickers. “Take them off,” I muttered.
“Why?” My aunt taunted me with her smirk. “Do you think I’m going to let you lick me again?”
“Won’t you?” I whispered. “Please.”
“What, take them off or let you lick me again?” Hazel teased. “You know,” my aunt continued after a pause, her eyes now downcast while she fiddled with one of the tassels bordering the rug. “I’ve got a bit of a confession to make.”
“A confession?” My aunt’s head snapped up when she heard the breath hiss past my teeth.
Hazel blinked in the face of my suspicion. “I’ll tell you, Carl,” she murmured. “I’ll tell you now.”
When Hazel patted the blanket I settled next to her, resting on one hip with a hand on the grass at the end of a straight arm, my legs bent and curled behind me.
Hazel rolled onto her side to face me, one hand resting on my uppermost thigh.
Overhead, so high up I couldn’t see the plane that caused it, I noticed a thin contrail, a white chalk mark against the high blue sky as an aircraft winged its way to some unknown, possibly exotic destination. For a brief moment I wondered at the lives of those people in the aluminium cylinder so high above the planet – had any of them known the illicit thrill of intimacy with their mother’s sister? The sight of that vapour trail feathering right up there put me in mind of the fantasy I’d enjoyed right back when all this with Hazel had begun, the dream I’d entertained of being with her in Paris or Florence.
Then my aunt began to talk, and the more she spoke – the more she revealed – the lower my jaw fell.
“You remember that night, Carl?”
“When you came home upset after Ian ...?”
Hazel’s mouth puckered – a moue of disdain at the mention of Ian’s name? “Yes,” she continued, “that night.” My aunt shifted on her hip, her hand creeping up and over my hip. “Well, at first, as I’ve said before, I don’t really know why I did what I did. I don’t have a clue why I behaved like that. I mean, what was I thinking, masturbating in front of you.” The blush crept out of Hazel’s décolletage, like water on blotting paper as she recalled the events of that night.
“I did it in front of you too, Aunt Hazel,” I reminded her.
My aunt’s hand moved from my hip to slide over the front of my denim shirt. She caressed my chest for a few seconds, her fingers pushing into the gaps between the buttons. “I remember,” she gurgled. “And I remember the following day, the Sunday, in the kitchen when you showed me how big and stiff you were.”
My voice came as a croak, a reaction to my body’s response when Hazel’s hand went from my chest, her palm smoothing over the front of the shirt until it pressed against the front of my jeans. I rolled back and opened my legs automatically at her touch. “But you ran away.”
“Ah, but ...” Hazel squeezed the ridge of my erection so clearly outlined, “... it was seeing you so fucking aroused that gave me the idea.” My aunt leaned over me and kissed my lips, nothing too ardent, just a press of her compressed lips against mine. I groaned and reached for her. “Wait, Carl,” she admonished, pushing my arm away. “Let me finish.”
“Idea?” I said, resisting the urge to roll Hazel onto her back and just rip her underwear from her body.
My aunt nodded, her eyes searching mine as though gauging my reaction.
“At first I told myself I couldn’t have those feeling for you, Carl. You’re my sister’s son, my nephew. But when I went to your room to talk to you, and you told me I was beautiful,” Hazel shrugged and squeezed my cock through my jeans, “and you were already hard ... Oh, Carl, I wanted to see you do it again, I wanted to watch you pull your cock. I knew it was wrong of me to feel that way, I knew it was wrong, morally wrong, but I was weak and let myself give in to the desire.”
“I came on your dress.”
“Yes, I remember,” Hazel groaned, gulping. “All of that lovely cum just spurting out of you.”
My aunt then uttered a small cry and pushed me away. She rose to her feet and stood over me. I squinted up at her, shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand raised in a parody of a salute.
“Aunt Hazel,” I breathed. “Here?”
“Here, Carl,” she replied, hiking up her skirt before yanking her underwear down with an impatient tug.
“But ...” I lifted myself upright and looked around, shocked that Hazel was now shrugging out of her dress.
“I don’t care, Carl.” My aunt towered over me, the wedge of her pubic bush close enough for me to just reach out and touch. She reached behind her body and unclasped her bra. “I want to be naked with you, darling,” Hazel murmured, the bra dangling from her fingers. “Up here, on the moors, on Earth Day.” She flashed a grin at me. “I can’t think of a better way to celebrate it than by being naked and intimate with you.”
“But, Aunty, what if someone sees?”
She knelt next to me, fingers going to the buttons on my shirt. “If someone sees, then they see,” Hazel replied. The shirt gaped open, my nipples tightening at the breath of cool, April air wafting over my exposed skin. “I haven’t made a full confession yet,” she finished.
Curious as to just what Hazel was going to reveal, I lay there, docile and compliant while my aunt unbuckled my belt and popped the button on my jeans front.
“When we finally decided that we would carry on masturbating, the caveat was that you couldn’t see too much of me, I kept the intimacy as low as I could manage.”
I nodded, lifting my hips so Hazel could yank my jeans down. “Yes,” I mumbled.
“Well, what you don’t know is that all the time you were begging and pleading to let you lick me, all that time I really wanted to just let you do it, I actually wanted you to get between my legs and fuck me, Carl.” My aunt gave a heavy sigh that seemed so laden with emotion and pent-up frustration. “I was so horny for your cock, darling. It was a real battle to keep myself from just climbing onto it and riding until you pumped me full of lovely semen.”
“Fucking hell, Aunt Hazel,” I groaned. I reached for my hard-on as my aunt tugged off my training shoes and socks.
“Don’t touch your cock, Carl!” Hazel cried. She slapped my hand away from my dick. “Listen to what I have to say. Don’t touch it.”
“But I have to,” I whined, lust red hot and mercurial in my veins.
“I’ll do it. I’ll stroke you.” Hazel slid her long, cool body next to me. We both turned inwards, facing each other, curling together as her fist gripped me and I sighed. “I wanted to fuck you, Carl, but I couldn’t l let myself.”
“Why not?” I muttered, teeth clenched. “You let me see you on Saturday; you let me lick you then.”
“A baby, Carl, I didn’t want you to put a baby inside me. I said that before.”
My aunt’s fist worked at me with slow pressure. I groaned and gasped and leaned in to kiss her mouth. Hazel returned the kiss, her lips parting so she could accept my tongue, her own tongue rolling over mine.
Then, to my surprise and delight, Hazel eased onto her back, taking me with her by tugging on my cock. I looked down at her, my torso pressed against hers, hips between her thighs.
“What?” I blurted. My hard-on was squeezed between us. If I wanted to, all I had to do was ease back and offer the tip of my cock to her opening. A quick thrust and I’d be inside my aunt.
“Oh, Carl,” Hazel breathed. “The only thing stopping me, the only real reason I held back for so long is that I just don’t want to get pregnant. So I started taking the pill on the Monday after that first weekend.”
The implications of that revelation, that tiny nugget of information eventually filtered through into my brain. “You mean ...?”
My aunt shifted beneath me. “I waited until I was sure it would be effective, Carl. The nurse told me seven days should do it, but I wanted to be absolutely certain. My period is due soon, so I thought that, perhaps, if you want to ...”
I saw Hazel smirk.
Did I want to?
“Well, I thought that we could celebrate Earth Day by coming up here and having a nice little fuck outdoors, surrounded by nature.”
So there it was, my aunt was now available, all of her; she was inviting me, if I wanted to, to make love to her.
I pushed myself to the kneeling. “Why didn’t we do it on Saturday?” I asked, incredulous.
Hazel leaned up, using her elbows and forearms for support. She eased to one side and opened her legs wide. “I thought I’d give you a treat. You wanted to see me, had begged to look at my pussy and breasts.” Hazel grinned and pushed a hand down over her hairy muff. “I thought I’d dress up in the stockings and shoes to give you a thrill.” The woman winced and gasped, her fingers mushing into her thick-lipped vulva. “And I loved seeing how excited you got, Carl. Fuck, but it turned me on to see your face when you saw me naked.”
Any ire I’d felt at my aunt’s game-playing evaporated. I cranked at my cock and looked down at her. “I thought you were lovely, Aunty,” I breathed. I heard my own voice, thick and treacly with desire for my aunt as I spoke. “You’re so beautiful lying there now.”
“So what do you want to do, Carl?” Hazel’s grin taunted me. She gasped and opened her legs wider, her hand sawing faster at her pussy. “Do you want to watch me finger myself? Does my pussy turn you on? Oh, fuck, Carl,” Hazel grunted. “I love playing with my cunt in front of you.” The woman reached up a hand and grabbed my bicep. ‘Kiss me, my lovely boy. Kiss me while I play with my clit.”
I kissed my aunt, leaning low over her to suck her tongue before I licked my way over her throat to her breasts.
Hazel sighed and gave a low mewl when I suckled each of her nipples, thick and long teats that I teased between my teeth.
“Carl,” my aunt panted, with her voice close to a squeal. “Won’t you just fuck me now? Please, Carl, just put that thing inside me.”
Kneeling upright again, I held my cock in my fist. I shuffled forward and let the keel of the thing slap against my aunt’s vulva. Pressing a finger to my shaft I then eased my hips back and forth so that the blunt head of my cock split the gooey folds.
“You lovely bastard,” Aunt Hazel murmured as she, stomach tensed with effort, bent her body forward so she could look down at where I teased her with my dick. “Stir my cunt with that big thing,” she hissed. “Please, Carl, please, just put it in.”
When I thrust and slid into my aunt’s body for the first time, I leaned in and kissed her mouth. We stayed like that for several long, delicious seconds, mouths locked while her insides clenched around me, my cock balls-deep inside her.
“I hate condoms, Carl,” Hazel gasped when the kiss broke. “I wanted to feel you inside me, bareback, just natural.” My aunt groaned, head lolling as I began to move. “It was worth the wait for me, darling,” she grunted, her hot-eyed gaze locked with mine. Hazel chewed her bottom lip and moaned. “So worth the wait.” Her hips began to move, my aunt fucking back onto me as the tempo of out coupling grew more urgent.
“We’re fucking,” I moaned, not quite believing that I could actually see my aunt’s body accepting the length of me. “We’re really doing it.”
Hazel began to really jerk her hips. Her hand went to my waist, where she clawed at me, seemingly desperate to take as much of me into her body as I could offer.
“Oh that’s good,” my aunt said, her voice curdling into a gurgle of delight while we fucked and she fingered her clit. “Skin on skin, a big cock inside me. Oh, Carl, I’m so fucking happy, so glad this has happened.”
During that first time, the shadow of our coupling an indistinct blur on the grass as the sun moved slowly along its predetermined track, while the benign breeze caressed my back, my mind seemed to cleave in two, one side caught up in the emotion, the sheer ebullience at finally, after so much time spent in frustrated agony I was finally inside Hazel, while the opposite hemisphere remained detached, studying Hazel’s face, listening to her sighs and moans and the occasional obscenity that slipped out of her.
The way my aunt’s face twisted, eyes glazed with the sublime pleasure, her mouth open in a silent scream, fascinated me. I knew myself just what sensations caused my aunt’s reaction for I felt them too. I knew how simply fucking delightful it was to move together, our bodies joined, the flesh squelching when my dick slid in and out, a piston of purely natural engineering and design.
This, I thought, was a celebration of life, an extension of Earth Day, the reason my aunt and I had driven up to the moors in the first place.
“Aunt Hazel,” I moaned.
“Yes, darling?” she panted, near breathless in response. “Are you going to cum?”
I was, my orgasm was so close, but that wasn’t what I’d been about to say.
It bubbled from me, the words popping out. “I love you, Aunty,” I said. “I love you for this.”
And then, while my muscles tensed and my toes pressed into the sod, my feet scrabbling against the grass and the soil beneath, I grunted and felt that love pour out of me. I filled my aunt with semen, spurt after spurt of jizm that flooded her insides.
Being so young, so full of vigour at twenty-one, I could have continued, just carried on stirring my own porridge, but instead I pulled out of my aunt’s body and watched her, the logical, analytical part of my head storing the images to memory.
What I saw, as I knelt there between Hazel’s legs, was my aunt’s fingers pushing into her opening. Hazel fucked her pussy with one, then two stiff digits, cum seeping out of her, farting around her busy hand and sliding along the crease of her arse. I studied her face again; completely fascinated by the way she looked. I couldn’t help by reach out and cup one small breast in my hand.
Her eyes opened, heavy-lidded with lust, and which at first seemed to gaze into some unknowable distance until they focussed upon me.
“Carl, oh, Carl ... Do you really love me?”
Emotion flared inside me, swelling my chest and igniting a fire in my belly. “Yes,” I breathed as I moved over my aunt. I crouched low and kissed her, my hand nudging hers out of the way so I could use my fingers on her body. “I love you, Aunty.”
“Call me that again, Carl,” Hazel mumbled, her teeth working on her lower lip. “Call me Aunty again. It’s so fucking naughty.”
I curled my fingers inside the woman’s body, the ball of my thumb sliding over her clit. “I love you ... Aunty,” I breathed.
“I’m cumming,” Hazel informed me with a guttural grunt. “I’m cumming, darling. Fuck me with your fingers,” she urged, with her fist like a vice around my wrist. “Hard. Fuck my pussy hard. Finger me. Get me there. Fucking get me there, Carl.”
Hazel climaxed, her body tensing in spasms as her limbs thrashed and she squirmed around the fingers hooked inside her. I kissed her lips, the breath panting out of her while I squeezed her breasts, fingers kneading and mauling Hazel’s flesh.
My aunt reached for my cock, a blind, instinctive grasping. Her fingers curled around me and she pumped the shaft – once, then twice, then once again before giving my length several more mistimed tugs.
Eventually my aunt collapsed, lying on the blanket on her back, face to the sky as she sucked in great gulps of air. She turned a shocked face towards me, eyes wide, mouth gaping open and closed, like a landed salmon.
“Earth Day,” she croaked, a forearm draped across her brow. “Now that was a celebration.”
I fell into a subdued silence when, after the picnic had been devoured, and following further love-making – or desperate, urgent fucking depending upon your point of view – where my aunt had insisted I pull out of her so she could watch my outpouring flick across the moorland grass, Hazel guided the van homeward, our direction generally westward.
“Are you thinking about what happens now?” Hazel asked.
She knew me too well, knew I’d be working over the consequences of today’s actions. I nodded. “Yep.”
My aunt cast a quick, enquiring glance at me, negotiating the roundabout in front of the Forest and Vale Hotel.
With Pickering behind us I mused on what had happened and pondered on what came next. I watched the scenery flash past. “Can we keep doing it?” I asked several miles further on.
“I don’t see why not.” Hazel’s voice softened. “If you love me like you said you do.”
I turned to face my aunt. “I ... I do,” I stammered.
She shrugged. “Then we can keep doing it. You can sleep in my bed. We can be lovers.” As matter as fact as that.
My breath came quicker and I swallowed. “Can we go away together somewhere?” I asked. “A place where we can be ... normal. You know, where we can hold hands and kiss in public.”
I saw Hazel’s eyes brimming with tears as she smiled at me. “That would be lovely. Yes.”
The VW puttered closer to home. A few miles from York, before we hit the by-pass that skirted the ancient city, Hazel spoke again. “Do you like me au naturel?”
“Huh?” I replied, with my reverie interrupted.
“My pussy,” Hazel clarified with a nod towards her lap. “My bush.”
I nodded with eager enthusiasm. “I love it ...” Pausing for a moment, I then added a wicked: “...Aunty.”
Hazel let out a guffaw. “You love Aunt Hazel’s hairy pussy, eh, Carl?” Her expression melted into a sly, feline mask. “What about your mother, Carl?” My aunt’s voice was low and liquid. “Do you think my sister keeps her pussy all bushy like me, or do you reckon she’s smooth?”
Flabbergasted by the obscene question, I spluttered and coughed.
Hazel laughed. “Got you,” she said, smirking at the windscreen. “Your face ...”
We drove the rest of the way home in snatches of conversation: Plans for a trip to Paris; maybe a holiday in the sun later in the year; an enquiry as to how my course at uni was going and how I could grab some notes of the missed lecture from one of my friends.
When the van turned into our street I noticed a car pulled up on Hazel’s driveway.
Speechless, my mind busy working on the coincidence, I turned my slack-jawed face towards Hazel after the van halted behind the car – A vehicle I recognised.
“What’s she doing here?” I asked. “I mean, when you asked about is she natural or shaved ...” I gulped at the possibility of the unthinkable conspiracy. “You know, don’t you? I don’t mean you know because you’ve been swimming together, or that you’ve seen her nude. You know because ... because ...”
My aunt, the sister of the woman whose car was parked on the drive, grinned at me. She rolled her eyes, demeanour sheepish. “Let’s go inside and say hello to your mum, Carl. You might get to see for yourself.”
A final word from me.
Poor Carl – do his aunt and his mother have a little secret that they might now share with him?
I’ve left it there for the reasons I stated above. The reader can extrapolate the actions of the characters – and Carl’s mother – from this point forward. If you have a suggestion that could see a sequel, by all means let me know. But, no promises!
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