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I help my Aunt Violet, and she deepthroats my husband - sex story


I help my Aunt Violet, and she deepthroats my husband



"I saw you, Callie." Aunt Violet said. "Last Tuesday night. And I saw what you were doing."

I paused with a mug of hot tea halfway to my mouth, and a half-chewed bite of cookie in my mouth. The question hadn't sounded conversational. In fact, I had a feeling deep inside my stomach that I was about to be accused of something.

And since I knew what I'd been doing last Tuesday, I was pretty sure I knew what exactly I was going to be accused of.

This was not what I'd expected when my aunt had invited me to her house for afternoon tea. I chewed and swallowed the cookie, and took a sip of tea, wanting to appear and sound as unconcerned and innocent as possible.

"You saw me?" I asked.

I hoped my question sounded sincere rather than like a tactic to stall for time.

"Oh, please don't worry." she added hastily. "Your personal life is none of my business, and I respect that. I only bring it up because I need someone to talk to about something rather personal. And now I think I can talk to you."

"I'm not sure I understand." I said. "Where exactly did you see me?"

"At the St. Andrew Hotel." She said. "I was in the corner of the dining room having an early dinner and waiting for the rain to let up, and you were at the bar."

"And what did you see?" I asked.

Although I knew damn well what she'd seen if she'd been at the St. Andrew Hotel last Tuesday. I'd been there to meet and stay the night with my friend Bethany.

We hadn't done anything too obviously sexual in the bar, but we were well past the days when one of us would get a hotel room and the other one would sneak up a few hours later.

After all both of our husbands knew about our sapphic experimentation. We were both consenting adults, and we weren't hurting anyone or harming our marriages.

While we certainly didn't flaunt or advertise our trysts in front of strangers, we didn't pretend that a pre-lovemaking drink was anything other than a drink between two people who had been intimate before and were about to be again.

There had certainly been some flirting going on between Bethany and myself as we sat at the bar, and most likely a bit of sexually physical interaction.

"I saw you with that woman." Aunt Violet answered. "I don't remember her name, but I met her when I stayed with you and Brandon last year."

A little more than a year ago a pipe had burst in her kitchen, causing extensive damage, and requiring some inconvenient remodeling. She'd stayed with my husband and I for most of the summer.

"And what did you see us doing?" I asked, although I was pretty sure I knew.

"I saw you kiss each other," she said softly, "and you were touching each other rather intimately. I saw you both get into the elevator. The one that goes up to the rooms from the restaurant and bar."

"Well it was exactly what it probably looked like." I admitted. "It's not something that I advertise or tell other people, but it's not something that Bethany and I hide either. She and I have a sexual relationship with each other."

"So Brandon knows?" Aunt Violet asked tentatively.

"Yes, Aunt Violet, he does." I said. "In fact, Bethany's husband knows about our relationship as well."

"Oh good." She said with a big smile. "That will make what I want to talk to you about a lot easier."

"Well whatever it is, you might as well tell me about it." I said with a laugh. "We seem to be through the looking glass here."

She smiled.

"I'm glad you're not angry." She said. "I didn't think you would be, but I am sticking my nose into your personal business here."

"Well we're family." I said, smiling back at her. "And I love you dearly. You know that. Stick your nose into any aspect of my life you'd like to."

"Does that mean I can ask you a very personal question?" she inquired.

"Yes." I said. "I might not answer if I'm not comfortable with it, but if that's the case I'll just tell you. I won't make up a bullshit answer or be dishonest."

"Are you a lesbian?" Aunt Violet asked me. "Or bisexual? I'm not sure what the correct word is anymore, and I don't want to be offensive."

"I guess most people would call me a bisexual." I said. "Other than talking about it with Brandon and with Bethany, I haven't really defined it. I've been curious about sex with females for a long time now. From before I was even married."

I paused for a moment, my thoughts drifting back to the week before Brandon and I got married. Those thoughts settled briefly on Nina, who was Brandon's sister and my maid of honor.

With a week left before the big day we'd gone on an out-of-town trip with my soon to be husband's family. His mom wasn't comfortable with he and I sharing a motel room together before our wedding, so I'd shared a room with Nina.

It had been a small room with just one bed.

We hadn't known each other very well, but we became quick friends over that long weekend. We stayed up and talked most of the night, giggling at the in-room porn movies playing and letting our conversation become more and more sexual.

Alone in that queen sized bed, we let that erotic conversation make us bold, and as we talked about orgasms and masturbation my libido had gotten the best of me and I confessed just how horny I was without Brandon in bed with me.

Nina admitted to being just as horny, and she suggested I masturbate to give myself some relief. She offered to touch herself at the same time so I wouldn't feel weird.

So, the two of us lay side by side staring at one another while we fingered ourselves through several orgasms each.

I had never experienced attraction to another female prior to that, but I'll remember the bed shaking as we fingered ourselves to several moaning orgasms apiece for the rest of my life.

She and I glanced at each other all through the wedding reception, grinning and winking as we remembered our shared bond of lust.

Five years later Nina passed through town and stayed in our guest room overnight, and in the morning after Brandon left for work, she took me into her arms and kissed me, my first ever female on female kiss.

And then she took my hand and led me to the bed I shared with Brandon, where she and I watched each other masturbate again, this time verbally encouraging each other and kissing for the rest of the morning.

I realized I was staring off into space and picked my train of thought back up.

"I'm not interested in romance with other females," I continued, "but every now and then I find myself particularly drawn to another woman physically, and I'll want to make love to her."

"Do you date women a lot?" she asked carefully.

"No I don't." I said. "In fact, aside from some kissing, Bethany is really the only woman I've ever touched in a sexual way. I told Brandon about my curiosity years ago, and he's always been supportive and understanding."

Once again, I thought of Nina, and how often I'd made myself cum while thinking about her.

"He encouraged me to explore, and about a year ago I learned that Bethany was feeling the same things I was." I continued. "After lots of talking we finally took the plunge."

"Was Tuesday your first time with her?" she asked softly.

"No, it wasn't." I laughed. "We're moving pretty slow, but we've been meeting one afternoon or evening every few weeks for a while now, trying a bit more each time."

"Are you enjoying it?" she asked so quietly I could hardly hear her.

"Yes, we both are." I said. "It's easy because we trust each other, but it's been far more satisfying than all the years of fantasizing about it have been."

We sat looking at each other, and I could tell she was struggling to find the words to say what was really on her mind.

"Aunt Violet, why do you want to know this stuff?" I asked gently.

Violet was a few months away from her fiftieth birthday, but she looked at least ten or fifteen years younger than that. More than once we'd been mistaken for sisters.

Her husband of twenty-five years had passed away just over two years ago. She'd shown no real interest in dating or romance since the funeral as far as I could tell.

Aunt Violet had always been a very quiet and private person. At family gatherings she was often the first one to blush or change the subject away from anything sexual or even remotely off color.

She'd never struck me as closeminded or judgmental, just terribly uncomfortable with sharing too much about her personal life or knowing too much about the personal lives of others.

"I want to talk about this because there's been something on my mind." She confessed. "Something that I've wanted to talk to you about for a long time now and seeing you at the hotel last week has sort of given me the courage to do it."

"You can talk to me about anything." I told her. "You know that right?"

"I do." She said. "But as much as I've been thinking about having this conversation for the last year, I'm still not sure how to get started exactly."

"It must be important." I guessed. "If you can't stop thinking about it. But it must be somewhat intimate as well if you're not sure how to bring it up."

"It is." She agreed. "It's both important and intimate. And I should start by confessing that my desire to talk to you about it began last year when I inadvertently violated your privacy."

"How so?" I asked, desperately trying to figure out what she could possibly have discovered about me.

"Last summer." She said. "When I was staying with you. I went into your bathroom looking for some conditioner, after you'd told me to help myself to anything in there, and you had a book next to the tub that caught my eye."

"I don't really remember what book I was reading at the time." I told her.

"It was on the shelf by the towels, not hidden, and I was desperate for something to read so I thought I'd borrow it when I saw it there." She said. "I'd planned to tell you that I had borrowed it, because I really didn't think you'd mind."

"I'm sure I wouldn't have." I said, desperately wondering which book she'd found.

A book in my bathroom wasn't unusual.

I often take long baths and reading in the tub is often a part of my after-work ritual. Usually, I read mystery or romance novels as I soak, but I do have a sizeable collection of erotic novels for those baths where I intend to let my fingers roam.

"It was a very sexual story." She said. "About a housewife exploring sex with other women."

I didn't remember exactly which novel she was referring to, and I didn't specifically remember leaving one in the bathroom, but it wasn't just possible, it was likely that I had.

And it was likely that it was centered on lesbian sex. Much of my fantasy life leans that way, and my erotic reading is no different.

It certainly wouldn't have been the first time I'd left an erotic novel on the shelf over the tub after a few orgasms. Brandon was aware of my masturbatory habits and my collection of erotic novels, so I'd never felt the need to hide them.

I felt myself smile a bit at the thought of my embarrassed aunt discovering that she wasn't reading an ordinary romance novel, but a story filled with descriptive sexual encounters and lustful orgasms between married women.

"I'm sorry." I said. "I do enjoy sexy stories, and I love to read in the tub. I probably should have done a better job of keeping something so embarrassing tucked away somewhere."

"You don't need to apologize." Violet said softly. "What you read isn't my business, and I should have put it right back as soon as I realized what it was."

"You didn't put it back right away?" I asked quietly, suddenly curious about her reaction. "Did you read it?"

"I did." She said, blushing furiously. "I read it all. Cover to cover."

I grinned.

"You don't need to be embarrassed." I assured her. "I certainly don't mind. Especially if you enjoyed it."

Her face colored even more.

"I did." She confessed. "I found it rather touching. It gave me lots to think about."

"Touching?" I asked, genuinely curious about what she meant.

I've had lots of reactions to erotica over the years, but I'd never really felt the urge to describe any of it as 'touching'. At least not in an emotional way. It often inspired me to touch myself, but that didn't seem to be what she'd meant.

"Maybe that's not the right word." She said. "But it certainly got in my head, and I spent lots of time thinking about it. And rereading it."

"Did you really like it?" I asked softly. "Did you just read it, or did you discover something about yourself while you read it?"

"I did really like it." She said, her eyes locking onto mine. "I loved it. I even had a somewhat physical response to it. When I moved back home, I went online and ordered my own copy because I needed to read it again."

"I'm glad you discovered the joys of erotica." I smiled at her.

"I guess I did." She admitted. "At first I was going to ask you if you had any more like it that I could read. But then...."

I waited a beat before deciding to help her out a bit.

"Then what?" I prompted her.

"Then something else happened that I should apologize for. But it's also gotten into my head." She said, struggling to maintain eye contact.

"What was it?" I asked softly.

"I saw you and Brandon." She said. "In the living room one evening. You thought I'd gone out."

"You saw us?" I asked. "I assume we weren't watching tv?"

If she was out of the house during that summer we were probably fucking somewhere besides our own bedroom. In all our married years we've gotten accustomed to fucking wherever in the house the mood strikes us.

"No." she looked up at me shyly. "You weren't."

"Were we fucking?" I asked her.

I'm not sure why I used that word instead of saying something a bit less vulgar, but I sensed that maybe vulgarity would help her have this conversation.

"Yes," she admitted, "you were."

"That's not something you need to apologize for." I assured her. "We probably should have gone to bedroom, even if we thought we had the place to ourselves. It's not your fault we did something private in a public part of the house."

"I feel bad that I saw you like that." She said.

"I'm sorry about that." I told her. "But I'm not ashamed of what Brandon and I do together, and you shouldn't feel bad for walking in on it."

"I feel bad because I stayed." She said, looking down at her lap. "And watched."

"Oh?" I asked, stunned.

Aunt Violet was the last person that I would have picked as a voyeur.

"Yes." She said. "I should have just turned around and went back out for coffee. But when I realized you didn't hear me come in, I stood in the corner of the kitchen and watched. All of it."

"I think it's only natural to be curious when you stumble over something like that." I laughed. "It's a fairly innocent way to have a naughty thrill. You certainly didn't hurt anything, and I don't think you owe us an apology."

"I probably wouldn't have ever mentioned it," she said, "but just like that book I found while I was there it got into my head, and I couldn't shake it. So, I planned to bring it up and talk to you about it."

She paused and gulped the last of her tea.

"And then last Tuesday happened," she continued, "and I felt like the universe was giving me the go ahead to ask for your advice. Is that weird?"

"I guess that depends on what sort of advice you ask for." I answered.

She took a deep breath and then looked at me as if she'd made her mind up about something.

"It's too late to bring all this up and then not finish it isn't it?" she asked.

"You don't have to go any further if you don't want to." I told her. "But nothing you say is going to change how I feel about you. And I promise not to tell anyone else about what you tell me, no matter what it is."

"Okay." She let out a deep breath. "Here goes. I don't think I've ever had an orgasm. At least not a really good one."

I sat there stunned, trying to think of what to say.

"Before you respond," she said, "let me go get us something to drink. A real drink. I'm going to need one to finish this."

She got up and went into the kitchen, while I sat there stunned.

She was only fifteen years older than I was. She hadn't been raised or married during the dark ages. How the fuck had she never had an orgasm?

She returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses and poured us each a generous amount.

I've never been a big drinker, but I took the glass she offered and took a sizeable drink while she settled back onto her side of the couch.

"So you've never....?" I asked her.

"I don't think so." She said softly. "At least not the way they're described in anything I've ever read. Or like the ones I saw you have. I've been close I think, many times, and maybe I have, but I'm just not sure."

"How do you.....how do you know?" I asked stupidly.

"I guess I don't." she said. "Not really. Maybe I've had great ones and they're just something I don't enjoy. Or maybe I'm just not capable of having them."

"Have you.....do you......hell I don't know what to say or even ask." I admitted.

"That's why I need your advice." She said. "I almost asked you a few weeks after the funeral. But I sort of made my peace with the idea that it would forever remain a fantasy. Until I found that book and it brought up all these feelings."

"Feelings about women?" I asked softly.

She nodded her head and looked relieved that we'd finally gotten to what she wanted to talk about.

"That's part of it. A new part since I read that story." She said. "And since I saw you. I used to think about sex a lot. Since last summer I keep thinking about women."

"You want to try sex with a woman?" I asked her.

"I don't know about trying everything." She said. "What I want most is to feel someone's mouth on me down there. I've never had someone do that to me."

"You've...you've never had...never?" I leaned forward, even more stunned.

"That's right." She said. "I've never had someone do that to me. And when I watched you and Brandon together, that convinced me that I was definitely missing out. He spent a long time doing that to you. It made me jealous."

Instead of saying anything I took another gulp of wine.

"For a long time, I've wondered if maybe someone's mouth down there was what I really needed. And ever since last summer I've been wondering if maybe a woman might be more patient. And less judgmental."

"Less judgmental?" I asked. "How so?"

"My inexperience." She said softly. "The fact that there are so many things that other women have felt that I haven't. I wonder if I'd feel those things easier if a woman was helping me. And if not maybe she could give me some advice."

I was absolutely stunned.

No matter how little my uncle knew about sex, surely he'd known that women needed to have orgasms just as much as men did.

And how had he not realized how much a lady needed a tongue pushing through her slippery folds and licking at her clitoris?

"All those years you were married?" I asked her sympathetically.

"No." she said. "It just never happened. When we were first married, we got into a fairly one-sided routine, and it was sort of my own fault, I think. Are you sure you're okay to hear this?"

"Of course." I said. I moved closer to her on the couch and put my hand on her arm. "Whatever you want to tell me, I want to hear."

"On the night before our wedding I told him that I was really looking forward to seeing his erection." She told me with a smile. "And I wasn't exaggerating. I really did want to see it. I also couldn't wait to touch it and taste it."

She poured each of us some more wine.

"He got really excited when I told him that, and he undid his pants and showed it to me." She said. "I couldn't believe how huge he was."

"Way to go Aunt Vi!" I giggled.

"Instead of just looking, I leaned over and kissed it." She said. "I'm not sure why I did that, but in the moment, I just had to. He begged me to do it again, so I put it in my mouth, and he came almost immediately. But I loved it. Every second of it."

"Yeah?" I whispered.

"Oh yeah." She said with a laugh. "Even when he, you know, came. It was magical."

"And then?" I prodded.

"The next night we did that again as soon as we were alone after the wedding." She said. "And for the next few days that's all we did. Every time he got hard, I sucked him. And we both loved it."

"You didn't do anything else those first few days?" I asked.

I'd never heard of a guy turning down a blowjob, but every single one of them I'd ever known also wanted their cock inside of a pussy as well. Maybe even more.

"In that first week when I told him how much I loved having him in my mouth and how much it turned me on, he asked if I'd be interested in trying it with other guys." She said.

"Really?" I asked, amazed. "Other guys? On your honeymoon?"

This was a side of my aunt and uncle I'd never even suspected.

"Really." She said with a grin. "He really liked the idea of seeing me suck other men. I was completely inexperienced, and the idea really turned me on."

"It does sound kind of kinky." I agreed.

"So, I agreed to it." She said. "He arranged for me to suck one of his friends while he watched. I actually lost my virginity about a week after our wedding with your uncle fucking me while his friend's cock was in my throat."

"Holy fuck." I whispered.

"And for years that's what we did." She said. "I'd either suck him, or he'd watch me suck one or two of his friends and I'd suck him last, or he'd fuck me during."

"And you never had an orgasm?" I asked, suddenly remembering what she'd said.

"No." she said. "I don't think I did. I'm sure I was close many times. Everything certainly felt nice down there, especially when I was excited from having a cock in my mouth. But it never really happened."

"And you never asked him to go down on you?" I asked.

"I think he thought that I loved cock so much that I didn't need any other stimulation." She said.

"Oh Vi," I said, squeezing her arm again, "that's not fair at all."

"Don't get me wrong." She said. "I enjoyed what we did together. Actually, I loved it. I wanted to suck all those cocks as much as he wanted me to. And those other men certainly loved it. He was a good man, nice and kind and I loved him."

She took a deep breath and looked me right in the eyes.

"But we never tried anything else." She said. "He never offered and I didn't know how to ask, or even what to ask for."

"And you never asked for it from any of the other guys?" I asked her. "Or they didn't offer?"

I figured that most men would happily lick and suck and kiss a lady until she orgasmed if she told him she'd reward him by sucking his cock.

"No." she said. "I never played with any of them without him, and after a while it just felt like it might hurt his feelings if I asked any of them to do that to me. But I sure fantasized about it enough. I just thought it might never happen for me."

"But for the past year you've been thinking about it again?" I asked her.

"Day and night." She said. "I wanted to ask your advice about where to find someone to do that to me, but I didn't know how bring it up. The only person I ever knew who'd tried it for certain was your husband, and that was weird."

She squirmed a little next to me, and I could tell how embarrassed she was.

"But when I realized that you were going to be with that woman, I figured that you almost certainly knew someone who would be willing to do that. Maybe even a woman that would try it." She said. "Am I an awful person?"

I leaned over and hugged her, kissing her softly on the forehead and holding her tight.

"I don't think so." I said. "I think you're a gorgeous woman with a beautiful soul who has a serious need, and even in the grasp of that need you're trying to figure out how to not be selfish."

And in that tender moment, I suddenly realized that my cunt was soaking wet.

Not just a little. I was literally dripping, and my panties felt so drenched that I wondered if there was a wet spot on the front of my jeans.

"Aunt Vi," I said softly, "can I tell you something? Just between us?"

"Of course." She replied.

"Brandon is good at it." I said. "In fact, he loves to go down on me. And if I asked him, I know he'd be happy to do it to you. I promise."

"He would?" she whispered.

"Oh, hell yes." I told her. "He's always thought you were pretty and sexy. And if I told him you wanted to try it, or needed to try it, he'd jump at the chance."

"Are you.....are you sure?" she stammered.

"I am." I told her. "But that's something you'll have to decide, and you don't have to do it right now. But he and I love you very much and if he can help you with this he will, I'm sure of it. And if you try it and it's awkward, he won't change how he feels about you either."

She took another sip of wine and I noticed that her hand was shaking.

"On the other hand," I went on, "if you want to experience it with a woman, I can arrange that for you too. Women know where everything is, and they know exactly how much and for how long to do all the right things in the right way."

"There's something I should tell you then, before we talk about any of that any further." She said.

"Go ahead." I smiled. "I think we're past secrets."

"When I saw you and Brandon," she said, "it didn't ease my curiosity about having a woman do it to me, but it did remind me how much I miss sucking cock. It's something I've always been good at, and I really do enjoy it."

"Oh really?" I grinned.

"Yes." She said with a giggle. "I haven't been able to stop picturing his since I saw it. If he was licking me, I might be too tempted to cross a line with him that maybe shouldn't be crossed."

"Okay." I said. "Two things. The first is that if Brandon was licking your clit neither of us would consider you reciprocating as crossing any lines. And the second is that Brandon has a very specific need in this area. May I confess something about myself?"

"Of course dear." She said, reaching out and taking my hand.

"First I need to ask a question." I said. "When you said you were good at it? At sucking cock?" I asked. "How good?"

I was aware of my heart thumping hard in my chest. I wondered if she could hear it.

We weren't just talking about sex now. We were talking about sharing something together.

Even if we hadn't yet made any specific plans. Even if we never moved past the conversation we were having, the reality was that we were examining something that people would consider taboo.

That scared me a little.

And it aroused me a lot.

"It does something to me." She said. "Maybe because my first experience as a twenty-two-year-old virgin was sucking cock. Maybe it's just because I find it so sexual. But it's not something that I just do. It's something that I love to do."

"That makes sense." I said softly.

And it did. I had some things in my sexual experience that triggered the same feelings of need and want within me when I did them to someone. Giving someone pleasure can often be its own form of foreplay.

"And when I'm doing it," she said, "it's something that I need. Something that fulfills me."

"How much of it do you do?" I asked her. "When you're sucking a man and he orgasms, do you swallow?"

"Yes." She said. "In fact, that's one of my favorite parts, and something I really miss. The taste of hot sperm in my mouth. Sometimes I just think if I can find a man to suck, I'd forget all the rest of these thoughts, about needing an orgasm."

"Or maybe," I said, "you need all of it. A mouthful of cock, and a hot tongue licking and sucking your tender little hole until you can't hold back your pleasure any longer."

I still had my arm around her, and she took a shuddering breath and squirmed against me, and I could feel her heart thump as we sat right up against each other.

I wasn't the only one responding to this conversation.

"I don't suppose you know anyone who'd be interested in an old widow, do you?" she said with a laugh. "Because I'm not in my right mind thanks to all this, as you can plainly tell."

"I think I do." I said. "I think maybe I know how to help you. And maybe how you could help me."

She sat next to me quietly, and I could almost hear her thinking.

She'd taken a great risk today, admitting to her own sexual needs, and she and I were pushing this conversation further and further as it went on.

"The thing is," I continued, "Brandon would truly love for me to throat him, but I can't. I can suck him, and he loves it. But I just can't get him into my throat. Can you do that? Can you get a cock all the way into your mouth and throat?"

"Oh yes." She giggled. "That's one of my favorite things."

"How deep can you get it?" I asked softly.

"As deep as he wants it." She whispered. "Some of your uncles' friends were pretty big, and I got every single one of them all the way in."

"What if he cums while he's all the way in?" I asked. "Brandon wants so badly to feel that happen."

She shuddered against me.

"I love that so much." She whispered. "I love feeling a man lose control while I have him right at the edge of my throat."

"I swallow his cum whenever he wants." I told her. "But I can't get him into my throat, and if he cums and I have him too far into my mouth I end up gagging. Which makes me bite down, which definitely kills the moment."

"Are you.....?" she whispered.

"Would you do that Vi?" I asked. "Would you let Brandon shoot his cum into your mouth and throat?"

"What would Brandon think?" she asked. "After all I'm your aunt and that wouldn't exactly be normal. Would he think I was totally weird?"

"Vi," I said, "you're beautiful. And sexy. I guarantee that he'd be out of his mind if he had a chance to just see you naked. Let alone a chance to taste your body and feel your mouth on his hard dick."

"Are you serious?" she asked, turning her head to look at me, both hope and lust in her eyes.

"Yes I am." I answered quietly. "And I want to help you too. As long as we're talking weird."

"How?" she asked.

"If you go get undressed I'll show you." I told her.

Her eyes grew large, and she gasped. We stared at each other for a moment, and I saw the fear in her eyes change into lust, and I knew then that she wanted to do it.

I leaned over and brushed my lips against her forehead, and then stood up and gathered up our mugs and wine glasses and took them into her kitchen.

"Why don't you go get ready?" I said over my shoulder, aware of my own shaking hands.

I wondered what exactly had come over me.

Was I really thinking of going down on my aunt?

Was she really going to be okay with this?

How weird would this be?

I decided that I would make it purely sexual. No romance, no kissing, no expressions of love. Just my mouth and fingers doing their best to show her how absolutely amazing an orgasm could feel.

I went back into the living room, and she wasn't there. I heard movement from the top of the stairs and went that way.

As if on autopilot I climbed to the second floor and went down the hall to her bedroom. It was cloudy outside and the late afternoon light coming in through the large window gave the room a cozy feeling.

Aunt Violet was standing by her dresser, still dressed and staring at me.

"Is this really happening?" she asked. "Do you really think we could....."

I stepped close to her and took her blouse in my hands, pulling it quickly up over her head and dropping it to the floor. I reached behind her and undid her bra, and the most beautiful set of breasts I've ever seen suddenly came into view.

I reached for her pants and undid the snap and the zipper and staring into her eyes I put my fingers into the elastic of her panties and pushed them all down over her hips.

"Are you sure?" she mumbled. "Is this wrong? Are we crazy?"

I stepped back and undid my own top, and one piece at a time my clothes fell to her bedroom floor.

And then we were staring at each other, aunt and niece, naked, aroused, and full of need.

She took a deep shuddering breath and smiled at me. It was a smile full of uncertainty and apprehension, and it made her even more beautiful than she already was.

I stepped to her and placed my hand on her breast, feeling the heat of her skin as her nipple stiffened against my palm.

She trembled slightly and closed her eyes, and I leaned in and pressed my lips against her shoulder, sucking and licking gently as I felt her hands on my back.

She touched me softly, as if unsure whether she should use her hands on me at all. I moved my lips to her neck and flicked my tongue against her skin, pulling her hair gently to encourage her to raise her head and expose her throat to me.

I put my mouth on her throat and pulled her to me, sliding my hand from her breast to her neck, clasping her firmly with my fingers and guiding her as she pressed her body against mine.

"Oh god." She whispered. "Oh Callie it's so......so.....nice."

My plan of not kissing her was forgotten, as we became two women seeking pleasure together.

I put both hands on her head and twisted her face towards my own and closing my eyes I pressed my lips to hers and kissed her, long and soft and gentle and wet, our lips sliding together.

She sank against me and let out another soft moan. We stood that way for several long minutes, our lips and tongues touching, our bodies clenched together, our hands pulling at each other.

The heat of her breasts against my own filled me with lust, and suddenly I could wait no more. I grabbed her and pushed her towards the bed, giving her a shove so she fell towards it, as I leapt to land next to her on the mattress.

She gave a soft gasp and I pounced on her, kissing her again and then hungrily licking my mouth down her chin, past her neck, where I used my hands to push her breasts together.

I closed my eyes and moaned as I buried my face in the softness of her cleavage, smelling the scent of her arousal as her legs opened and tasting the delicious tang of sweat on her skin.

She grabbed a fistful of my hair and groaned deep in her throat.

I used my knee to push her thighs further apart, and without thought I pressed myself against her, one of my legs under her and one of them over, my burning and slippery and waxed bare vulva sliding against her hairy thatch.

I kissed her again, and she pushed her tongue into my mouth as she pushed herself up at me, our cunts working against each other as we started to slowly grind together.

I rolled and pulled her with me, until I was sitting with my back against the headboard, our legs scissored together as our tongues licked back and forth while we gasped into each other's mouths.

I grabbed her hips and held her tight, letting her set the pace as we ground our needy holes together.

I couldn't tell which of us was wetter, but I knew that we were dripping onto her mattress and that made me growl with hot intensity as the image of a lustful wet spot on her bed popped into my head.

She began to push against me faster, and while I wanted to do this slow and gentle and soft and make it last for her, I'd pulled her into this position so that her body could take charge.

She needed this much more than I did, and at the moment I knew that her body was merely responding to what it felt, and I knew that she was firmly in the midst of an overpowering lust.

At this point whatever happened would bring her pleasure.

She whimpered and I suddenly yelped against her mouth as she pinched my nipple and a delicious surge of hot pain flashed through my body.

She started to hump at me faster, and with what sounded like a sob she moaned into my ear.

"Callie," she panted, "something....something....something is happening."

"Let it." I said. "Let it happen."

"Oh god!" she screamed, her hands clawing at me.

She started to grind against me as fast as she could, and I bit her shoulder and held her tight.

Suddenly she relaxed against me, and only her lips were moving, licking at sucking at my ear as she panted.

I grabbed her limp body and rolled us over, and kissed her on the mouth and then slid down to her breasts, sucking her nipple as hard as I could while she arched her back and moaned while running her hands up and down my back.

"Callie," she gasped, "I think it happened."

I stopped sucking at her stiff nipple and looked up at her.

"Maybe." I said. "A little one."

"Little?" she asked, her eyes wide.

I slide up and put my mouth against her ear.

"Violet," I whispered, "you haven't felt anything yet."

I moved down the bed, pushing her thighs apart and settling between them, kissing her soft belly.

I ran my fingers up her thighs, delighting in her soft skin.

The only other woman I've touched like this was Bethany, who went to the gym nearly every day and was toned and fit, with small breasts.

Violet wasn't out of shape at all, but she wasn't toned either.

Her thighs were thicker than I'd ever noticed and were soft and supple to my touch. Her breasts were large and heavy and while she obviously trimmed her pubic hair, she was hairy by modern standards and the hair was unshaped.

I pushed my fingers up to the edge of her soft pubic hair and experienced the primal sensation of feeling another woman's full bush. Both Bethany and I are waxed, and Violet was my first experience with a full bush.

I stroked my fingers through it, my body responding as I became more and more aroused from feeling her hairy thatch. Combining that with the sight, sounds, and scents from her body inflamed my sexual appetite for her.

I dropped my face down and licked her thigh, dragging my tongue along her skin, savoring the smell of aroused cunt, and moaning along with her. I pushed my tongue through her hair, and probed back and forth, flicking my tongue against the skin of her sensitive vulva.

Suddenly my tongue found the edge of her opening, and she screamed.

"Yes! Yes!" her voice shattered the silence of the house.

I pushed further into the delicious taste of pure womanly lust, the feeling of hair on my tongue giving way to the smoothness of her aroused cunt.

I used my fingers to spread her lips, pushing my tongue deep into her hole and I felt her grab fistfuls of my hair and rock her hips against the mattress as she pushed herself against my mouth.

"What is.....? What is happening? Oh holy shit yes god!" she screeched, pulling at my hair.

Pain lanced through my scalp as she pulled my hair, and I pushed my tongue as deep into her as I could, sucking and licking at her sweet juice.

Keys: aunt oral deepthroat

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