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Message-ID: <45174asstr$1068041404@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Briareos Hecatonchires" <auto20359@hushmail.com>
Reply-To: auto20359_AT_hushmail.com@mailserver3.hushmail.com
Subject: {ASSM} Robbie's Aunt Susan - Part One (m solo, voy, nosex, slow)
Date: Wed,  5 Nov 2003 09:10:04 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Greetings.

I wouldn't exactly consider myself a novice author, but I am certainly
a novice in this arena.  Any and all feedback, positive and negative,
 is appreciated, but please go easy on me (if you can).

-briareos

--

Robbie's Aunt Susan
Part One

I am an only child, something I think my parents decided to do on purpose,
 though I never got a chance to ask them.  They both came from pretty
big families -- mom with two brothers and three sisters, dad with four
brothers and a sister.

My dad died when I was quite small, an accident at the steel plant that
he worked in.  Mom and I were well set up after that, what with the regular
life insurance benefit and the big settlement from the steel company.
 Mom worked part-time, just for something to do I think, because the
house was paid off and we never seemed to be on a tight budget.

While I was growing up, family would come over and stay with us all the
time.  Uncles and aunts from both sides would come for the holidays or
just for visits, sometimes bringing my cousins along too.  My mom's sisters
came to visit especially often, as they were all really close and lived
nearby.

Of the sisters, my mom was the oldest, and then came my Aunt Jenny, then
Aunt Sandra and finally Aunt Sophie, the youngest.  My favorite was Aunt
Sandra, because she was always ready to play with me, and let me sit
on her lap while she and her sisters would visit and gossip in the family
room, even after I started to get old enough that my mom wouldn't anymore.

"He's getting too big for that Sandra," my mom would say with a hint
of disapproval in her voice.

"Oh, take it easy Julianne.  He's just so precious!  Rob's my little
man, aren't you Rob?" she would ask me as I snuggled in closer for a
hug.

"Yes I am Aunt Sandra!"

"That's my little man," she would murmur, and kiss the top of my head.

Then, when I was twelve years old, my mom got diagnosed with ovarian
cancer.  It was horrible.  It took a long time, and she went through
a lot of pain and got a lot of treatment, but none of it did any good.
 Four months after my thirteenth birthday, which was celebrated in my
mother's hospital room, mom died.

The funeral was very difficult.  All my mom's siblings were there, as
well as all of my dad's since we had stayed so close to them after dad
died.  Everyone was crying, even mom's oldest brother, Uncle Paul, who
was the strongest man I thought I had ever seen.  He got up to speak,
 and even though I was right up in the front row of the chapel, pressed
between Aunt Sandra and Aunt Sophie, holding the kleenex box they both
were plucking tissues from, I couldn't understand much of what he said
through his sobbing.

After that we had to go out to the cemetery in a procession and watch
them while they lowered mom's coffin into that deep hole next to dad's
headstone, and I was suddenly sick to my stomach and almost threw up.
 Aunt Sophie almost had to carry me to the car for the ride back to my
house.

I hid in my room for most of the afternoon while people I only sort-of
knew filled the house with their looming black-clothed presences and
ate food off of disposable plates while standing up.  The house felt
weird to me, and I thought it was all the strangers filling it up, but
after I was alone in my room and it felt different in there too I realized
it was because I couldn't feel my mom anywhere in the house.  Of course
she had been in the hospital for quite a while, but it was different
now, because somewhere deep inside I realized that I would never again
have her there with me.  I fell asleep crying into my pillow.

Aunt Jenny came and woke me up so that I could say goodbye to all the
family members who were leaving.  By that time, it was only the family
left, busying themselves with cleaning up the remainders of the food
and dishes.  Slowly, in little family groups, they left, stopping to
say goodbye to me on the way out the door.  I got hugs from everyone,
 even Uncle Paul, and all the ladies kissed me on the cheeks while they
made sniffling sounds.

Finally it was only mom's sisters and I left, and Aunt Jenny was loading
the dishwasher while Sophie and Sandra sat at the kitchen table drinking
coffee and not really talking.

I was suddenly afraid they were going to leave too, and I'd be all by
myself in that house that felt so strange to me now.  They had been taking
turns staying with me while mom was in the hospital, but now what would
they do?  Surely they would want to go home...both Aunt Jenny and Aunt
Sophie had husbands, though they had left for home already.  Aunt Sandra
lived alone in an apartment across town.

I approached the kitchen table, and trying not to sound like I was about
to cry (which I was), I asked, "What do I do now?"

Sophie and Sandra both turned to look at me.

"Oh Rob," Sandra said softly.  "You poor thing.  Come here -- c'mon,
that's right, sit on Auntie Sandra's lap like you used to."

I perched on her lap, even though I was getting close to being her size.
 But I did it anyway, and wrapped my arms around her, glad for the warmth
and comfort provided by her encircling arms as she pressed her face against
my hair and gently rocked me back and forth.  Aunt Sophie laid her hand
on my back from where she sat.

Aunt Jenny came over from where she'd finished loading the dishwasher,
 drying her hands on a dishtowel.

"I think," she said gently, "that Rob was wondering about things a little
more specific.  Weren't you Rob?"

I nodded my head against Sandra's shoulder.  "Yeah Aunt Jenny," I said.
 "Are -- are you all going to go home now?"  I was glad my voice only
had a slight quiver.  I didn't want to be left alone, not at all, but
I knew if I started crying it would take a miracle to stop.

I heard Aunt Sophie suck in her breath, and Aunt Sandra tsk-ed quietly,
 but Aunt Jenny only nodded.

"I thought so," she said, pulling a chair around from the other side
of the table so that she could sit down near Aunt Sandra and me.  "You
were thinking you were going to be left alone here, weren't you Rob?"

I nodded again, and she shook her head.

"Of course you won't!" she said fiercely.  "Rob -- we're your *family*!
 We're going to look after you, don't you worry.  Now I don't know about
what's going to happen long-term, we won't know that until we can look
at your mom's will, but you'll be coming to live with one of us, I'm
sure -- or maybe with your Uncle Paul and his family.  I don't know what's
to be done with the house. But in the short term, we're be staying here
with you, just like we have been.  Your Aunt Sandra's going to stay with
you tonight, and maybe the next several days, and then I'll come stay,
 or maybe Sophie and I both.  Okay?  Does that sound okay?"

I clutched at Aunt Sandra tighter, relief flooding through me, and I
managed a nod.  But the relief did what all my sorrow couldn't -- my
resolve melted and I began to cry again, wetting the front of Aunt Sandra's
dress.

I was embarrassed, so I struggled free of Aunt Sandra's arms and to my
feet, rubbing at my eyes with the back of my hand.

"Ok-okay, Aunt Jenny," I said haltingly.  "That sounds great, really.
 Thank you."

I suddenly felt uncomfortable in my good clothes; they were wrinkled
and disarrayed from my having slept in them, and my face felt all puffy
and hot.  I wanted comfort -- I wanted to be relaxed.  I wanted to put
on my pajamas.

"I'm - I'm gonna go take a shower," I said, wiping one more time at my
eyes.  "And get ready for bed."

"Okay Rob," Aunt Jenny said.  "I think I'm going to go home now.  Will
you be okay here with Sandra?"

"Oh yeah," I said, smiling at Aunt Sandra.  "I'll be okay."

"I'm going too then Rob," Aunt Sophie joined in, standing up from the
table.  "I'll come by and see how you guys are doing tomorrow, alright?"
 She rested her hand briefly on Sandra's shoulder and received a quick
smile in return.

I hugged and kissed them both goodbye and headed upstairs while Aunt
Sandra cleaned up the coffee.  I pulled my clothes off in my room and
almost left them laying on the floor, but I thought about all the times
my mom had walked by my room and told me, "Rob!  Your floor is not a
closet -- you get those clothes picked up right now!" and I hung up the
shirt and my slacks before padding down the hall in my socks and jockey
shorts.

I turned on the shower and was pulling a towel out of the linen cabinet
when Aunt Sandra came by on her way to the guestroom, which was right
next to mine.  She paused in the doorway of the bathroom, reaching in
to turn on the fan.

"Are you going to be long, Rob?" she asked.  "I would like to brush my
teeth."

I shook my head.  "No...I'm tired.  I want to go to bed."

She smiled.  "Me too, kiddo.  Me too."

She pulled the door shut after her and I quickly stripped out of my socks
and underwear, stepping into the shower after testing the water with
my hand.

It was nice and hot, the way I liked it, and as the steam began to pour
up around me, I felt myself starting to relax a little bit.  I held my
face under the stream, and I could feel the skin, tight from crying,
start to loosen.

I washed myself, taking my time.  Now that I felt a little better, burying
myself in my bed didn't seem as urgent.  I even shampooed my hair.

I thought briefly about masturbating, something I had only started doing
a few months ago.  I really enjoyed it, but didn't really feel up to
it right now.  I pulled briefly at my penis, and managed to get it a
little hard by thinking about the ragged and disheveled girly magazine
I'd gotten from my cousin Stephen a month ago by trading him my old slingshot.
 But even the thought of those ladies with their hooded gazes, plump
breasts and pink flesh wasn't enough to really get me going.

I stood there in the shower, leaning forward to rest my head on the wall
below the showerhead, and suddenly found myself crying again. The words
'my mom is dead, my mom is dead, my mom is dead' ran through my head
over and over, and I couldn't make them stop.  And with every iteration,
 I cried a little harder, until I felt my knees weaken and I was sliding
down to sit on the floor of the tub, my face pressed against my knees
and my arms clutched over my head, the water falling down on me no longer
feeling pleasant and relaxing, but a pounding counter-point to the thundering
words in my head.

I'm not sure how long I was there, but at some point the water abruptly
stopped, and I could hear my Aunt Sandra's voice.

"Rob?  Rob -- come on Rob.  Are you okay?  Say something Rob.  Rob!"

The last sharp exclamation seemed to help me choke off the torrent in
mid sob, and gulping air, I looked up through blurry eyes to find my
Aunt Sandra kneeling by the tub, her hands on my forearms where they
were crossed over my knees.

"Rob, oh god baby -- are you okay?" Aunt Sandra asked me.  "I waited
for you to come out so I could brush my teeth, but you were in here so
long...I knocked on the door, but you didn't answer, even when I called
your name.  I came in -- thank god the door wasn't locked!  What happened?
 Are you alright?"

I gulped a few more times, and nodded, finally finding my voice, though
it was creaky and pitched funny.  "I-I-I'm f-f-fine," I said.

"You are not!" Aunt Sandra exclaimed.  "Now let's get you out of there.
 Come on, stand up."  She stood and reached down to take my arm.  "Come
on now, time to get you up and put you to bed.  You've had enough for
today."

Using her grip on my arm and by grabbing the edge of the tub, I managed
to pull myself into a standing position, even though my legs felt weak.
 I felt odd, kind of detached, and I barely even noticed as I was standing
that, bent over to help me as she was, I could see right down the neck
of Aunt Sandra's nightgown to where her bare breasts swung.

But I *did* notice.

Aunt Sandra kept her hold on my arm as I came fully upright.  "Are you
going to be able to stand up by yourself?" she asked, looking me in the
eye.

"Uh-huh," I said.  But just then my knees buckled, and it was only because
I clutched at Aunt Sandra's arm and the fact that she already had a hold
of me that I didn't fall back down into the tub and probably hurt myself
badly.

"Sure you are," she said wryly.  "Now come on.  Hold onto me and step
out of the tub.  There you go.  All right, now lean up against the counter...that's
right.  Can you stay propped up there?"  She pulled away from me a little
bit without letting go, and I let my weight lean all the way back onto
the counter.  Even though my legs wobbled a little bit, with my hands
braced on the edge of the counter, I could hold myself upright.

I nodded, and Aunt Sandra let go of me completely.  "Okay -- we need
to get you dried off before you catch cold."  She reached over for the
fuzzy towel I had gotten out before getting into the shower, and opened
it up with a shake.  Squatting down in front of me, she started drying
my feet, then one leg after the other.

I looked down at her there, rubbing the towel vigorously up and down
my left calf, and I wondered briefly why I didn't feel weird that I was
naked in front of my aunt.  She had seen me in my underwear plenty of
times, since she stayed over all the time and I would often get up and
come to eat breakfast without putting anything else on, but this was
different.  Okay -- I guess I did feel weird, but the way I felt was
weird because it *wasn't* weird, if you know what I mean.  I still felt
too detached, and even though I knew that normally I would be really
embarrassed, I just couldn't connect with any of those feelings.

But it was also weird because I felt more physically present than I normally
would, like because I wasn't busy feeling embarrassed or anything, all
my physical sensations were that much sharper.  Of course, this is all
rationale in hindsight, from years later when I had a better vocabulary
for talking about it and organizing my experience.  At the time, I just
wasn't embarrassed, and couldn't even wonder why.

A breath of air from somewhere touched me, and I shivered, my wet hair
dripping now cold water down onto my chest and into Aunt Sandra's own
hair.  She looked up at me and smiled.  "Hang in there kiddo -- we'll
get you dried off and warmed up here right quick."

I smiled back at her faintly and concentrated on holding myself up on
the counter.  She was pretty, I realized suddenly.  Her brown hair was
shoulder length and curled under at the end.  She had he brilliant blue
eyes that ran in her side of the family, the same as I did, and she was
well proportioned -- not too skinny, and not fat either.  And as I had
seen just moments ago, her breasts were quite large and very soft looking.

I'd never thought about it before, but all of my mom's sisters were very
pretty women.  They'd always just been my Aunts, and I hadn't even really
*seen* what they looked like in years.  They just were.

But suddenly I was finding myself re-evaluating them, and Aunt Sandra
especially.

"Spread your legs a little bit sweetheart," she said.  "Let me get in-
between there."

She was up to my mid thighs -- only seconds had passed as I considered
these things -- and as I shifted to pull my legs further apart so that
she could rub the towel over my inner thighs, I felt these new realizations
begin to have an effect.

Luckily it was a slow process, probably due to my detachment.  I could
feel the tightness in my belly and the gradual growth of my penis, but
it had just started when Aunt Sandra said, "Time for the plumbing," and
was massaging my groin with the towel.

The towel was thick, but I could still feel her fingers as they worked
the fabric over my shaft and down around my balls.  She bent down a little
to peer between my legs as she ran the towel up my ass crack and over
my asshole.

Then she was done and busy toweling off my hips and belly as my vision
swam and blood pulsed into my cock.  I flushed slightly when I realized
I was destined to have a full-on boner by the time she finished, and
that heat to my face was my first clue that my odd detachment was fading
away.

By the time she reached my now ice-cold hair, I was able to stand all
the way up on my own.  As she stood in front of me to rub the towel through
my hair, I watched her breasts jiggle under the flannel of her pale blue
nightgown, and wondered what I'd do, what I would say, when she stepped
back from me and noticed my throbbing hard-on.

Before I could wonder very long, she stepped forward in order to get
both hands around to the back of my head, and my upright dick poked her
in the thigh.  I felt the blood drain from my face.  She paused just
briefly before shifting her weight to the side, removing the contact
between us, and continued to dry my hair.  She looked down at me briefly,
 and my gaze met hers fearfully but she just smiled at me the same as
she had been all evening.  I let out a little sigh.  I didn't want Aunt
Sandra mad at me, and I couldn't help it besides.

"I should have done your hair first Robbie," she said as I shivered again
in the cool air.  "I'm sorry.  Okay, there -- done!  Now let's get you
warmed up.  Come on, let me help you get to your room."

She dropped the now damp towel to the floor and again took my arm to
help support my weight, not even looking down to where my dick bobbed
up and down with each beat of my heart.

"That's alright Aunt Sandra," I said.  "I think I can make it on my own
now."  I thought I might pass out, but I could feel my face again burning
with a kind of pleasurable embarrassment at my naked arousal around my
aunt, and I didn't want to take the chance of again rubbing up against
her.  If she said anything about it, I thought I might die.

"No can do Robbie," Aunt Sandra said.  "You said that before and you
almost brained yourself on the edge of the tub.  I'm not going to have
you fall down in the hallway trying to get to your room.  Now come on,
 put your arm over my shoulder and let's get you to your room and into
your bed to warm up before you catch cold."

There wasn't going to be any changing her mind, so I did as she asked,
 flinging my arm over her shoulder while she wrapped her arm around my
bare waist and pulled me in close to her, almost picking me up as she
took my weight onto her more fully.  Together we proceeded slowly out
of the bathroom and down the hall towards my bedroom.

I couldn't help but revel in the feeling of her pressed against the length
of me as we made our way down the hall.  I could feel her body moving
against mine, and I knew there was only a thin layer of flannel separating
us from skin-to-skin contact.  More warmth gathered in my guts and I
thought my dick was going to split its skin it was so hard and big.

We made it to my room, and she lowered me to sit at the foot of my bed.
 My cock stuck up between my legs, seeming to me to be the most painfully
obvious thing in the entire room.

Aunt Sandra turned towards my dresser, and began to go through the drawers.

"Let's see -- you usually just sleep in your underwear right?" she asked.
 Without waiting for an answer from me, she turned back to me with a
pair of my white jockey shorts in her hands.  She took one step towards
me before glancing down at my dick, and she stopped.  She looked at the
jockey shorts, and then back to my cock.  My face heated more, if that
was possible, and I snapped my hands over my crotch, trying as best I
could to cover my rigid cock.  It was impossible without wrapping my
hands around it, and that just seemed too obscene.

Aunt Sandra grinned wryly.  "I guess you're not in any shape to be putting
on a pair of these right now," she said, stretching the waistband of
the underwear between her thumbs.  "I'm sure it would be a little...uncomfortable."
 She gave me a wink and turned back to put away the underwear.

I groaned inside my head as my cheeks flamed.  I hung my head to avoid
my aunt's gaze as she came back to the bed to turn down the covers. 
I was mortally ashamed and confused, even more so because a part of me
was really enjoying the fact that my very own aunt had not only seen
me naked, but touched my cock and fondled my balls.  Not only that, but
here I was with a raging stiffy, and she wasn't making me get dressed
-- she even made a joke about it!

"Alright, climb up here and get in bed," Aunt Sandra said.  I didn't
turn to look at her, or move at all.  I just sat with my hands pressed
ineffectually over my cock and my head hanging down.

"Robbie?  C'mon sweetheart.  Time for bed now baby," she said, coming
back to me at the foot of the bed.

I didn't want to make it worse, didn't want to have to talk about it
at all, but I had to apologize so Aunt Sandra wouldn't be mad.

"Aunt Sandra, I'm so sorry," I said softly.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Aunt Sandra sat down beside me on the bed and put her arm across my naked
shoulders.  "For what, baby?" she asked.  "You don't have to be sorry
for anything.  I love you, you know that."

I nodded.  "I do know that Aunt Sandra -- but, in the shower, and...and
now...and now this!" I said, punctuating the last by taking my hands
from my penis so that it bobbed up into the air once more.  "I'm sorry,
" I said again, hoarsely.

Aunt Sandra made a little sighing sound and hugged me to her with the
arm across my shoulders.  "I knew what you meant," she said.  "And I
still mean what I said: you don't have to be sorry for anything.

"You're sad about your mom -- that's why you were that way in the shower.
 I understand.  Over the last few weeks -- hell, over the last several
months! -- with your mom in the hospital, I've found myself curled up
in a ball in different places, crying my eyes out and not able to move
a muscle!  It's just part of this horrible, awful experience.  It's nothing
to be ashamed of.

"And as for your erection," she went on, causing me to flinch in embarrassment.
 "It's perfectly natural, and nothing to be ashamed of.  Really.  I'm
thinking this is the first time you've been naked around a woman before,
 am I right?"

I pulled my head up a little to look over at her, and she was regarding
me with a kind look on her face.  I nodded.  "Yeah."

She smiled.  "I thought so.  And really Robbie, it's perfectly natural
and nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about.  It's just your body
reacting to the presence of a woman.  I'm not offended or anything like
that."

She pulled me tighter and wrapped her other arm around me, pushing my
head into her shoulder and kissing the top of my head.  "Oh Rob.  You're
so precious to me, you know that right?"

I managed to get out a muffled, "Uh-huh," from against her shoulder.
 I could feel her breasts pressing against me through her nightgown.

"And now you're all that we have left of Julianne," she went on, a hitch
in her voice.  "What will we do without her, baby?  Oh god...I miss her
so much!"

And with that, Aunt Sandra was crying.  Not the quiet, gentle tears that
she had shed at the funeral and at the graveside.  Huge, wracking sobs
that shook her whole body.  She started wailing and rocking back and
forth, still clutching me to her.

I started to cry too, and I wrapped my arms around her as well.  I'm
not sure how long we cried together like that, rocking back and forth
on the foot of my bed, but eventually she began to calm down and cry
a little quieter, and so did I.  I noticed that my erection had wilted
-- apparently extreme displays of grief aren't really a turn-on.

Aunt Sandra snuffled and kissed my hair again.  "Oh Robbie, I'm sorry.
 I was trying to be strong for you baby, but I just couldn't anymore.
 It's too much."

I turned my head to look up at her.  I looked into her red-rimmed eyes,
 still full of tears, with her hair disarrayed, and I felt my heart flood
full of love for her.

"It's okay Aunt Sandra," I said.  "I love you.  You don't have anything
to be sorry about."

She looked at me a moment, surprised at the echo of her words from earlier,
 before barking out a laugh.  "Well!  I guess we both need to trust in
each other a little more, don't we?"

"Uh-huh," I said, still looking up at her.  On impulse, I half-stood
and swung my body around so that I was sitting in her lap.  I leaned
my head forward and kissed her on her lips, softly, before snuggling
up against her more tightly again.

She hesitated before again embracing me, one hand high up on the middle
of my back, the other resting on my stomach.  She leaned her head against
mine and sighed gently.  "Okay Robbie, it's really time for bed now.
 Are you ready to get dressed and go to bed?"

"I guess so," I said.  I wished I could stay on her lap.  Upon sitting
there and hugging myself to her, I realized that I was pressed much more
fully against her chest, and the soft pillowing of her breasts underneath
her nightgown.  I could again feel my cock pulsing between my legs, and
wondered if I was a deviant.

But no -- Aunt Sandra said it was normal, and nothing to be ashamed of.
 I resolved myself not to be, for her sake.  She had enough to worry
about without a fragile teen boy's ego.

"Okay then," she said.  "Let me get you some clothes then."  I slid off
her lap to again perch on the edge of the bed as Aunt Sandra again dug
into my dresser.  I was watching her, and it was with a new edge of horror
as I saw her open the very top drawer of my dresser, the one I used for
just junk.  "No, Aunt Sandra!  Not that one -- !"

It was too late.  I hadn't ever worried about it being found.  Why would
I?  My mom had been in the hospital, and whatever relative was currently
staying with me had kept out of my room altogether.  My cousins had been
in there with me, but I showed it to the boys, and the girls had no reason
to dig into my dresser drawers.

But it was found now.  Aunt Sandra's hand went to her mouth briefly before
she reached into the drawer and brought out the much creased and bedraggled
dirty magazine I'd gotten from my cousin Stephen.

I groaned.  "Aunt Sandra, I'm sorry, I --" I began, but cut off as she
raised her hand.  She didn't turn back towards me, so I could only see
her in partial profile, but I saw her open the magazine and flip briefly
through it.  I was again in a panic.  It seemed that I was destined to
have all my most embarrassing secrets revealed to my Aunt Sandra this
evening.

Aunt Sandra let the magazine flip closed and turned all the way towards
me with a little smile on her face.  She held the magazine up.  "I guess
you're not *quite* as innocent as I had assumed, eh Rob?"  She chuckled.
 "My fault."

I regarded her with saucer-sized eyes.  "You're...you're not angry?"
I asked.

She laughed and turned back to the dresser, where she replaced the magazine
and closed the drawer.  "No, I'm not angry Rob.  This is just another
one of those natural things that boys do."  She looked back at me.  "I
do take this to mean that you masturbate.  Or do you just like to look
at the pictures?"

I choked, but something made me actually answer.  "I-I...I masturbate,
" I got out.

She nodded before returning to the dresser, where she now opened the
correct drawer and pulled out some underwear.

"I figured.  I should have guessed it, really, but it's been a while
since I was around a teenage boy."

She stopped in front of me, her eyes kind of glossed over, and the tone
of her voice indicating she was remembering things.  "We used to spy
on your Uncles Paul and James," she said.  "Me and your mom and Jenny.
 Sophie was too young then -- by the time she was old enough, they were
dating girls and didn't really masturbate much anymore, I guess."

She dropped the underwear in my lap, and I suppressed a surge of disappointment
that she wasn't going to put them on me herself.  She sat down beside
me, still reminiscing out loud.

"I didn't really understand it at first, when I followed your mom and
Aunt Jenny to where they were spying on Paul and James.  I just saw everyone
sneaking off, I wanted to find out what was going on."

She laughed.  "Your mom was really into it.  She was the oldest of the
girls, of course, and pretty close to the age where she would have gotten
into boys anyway.  I think she started masturbating soon after that.

"Paul and James would go out to this little dip in the back field, near
an old walnut tree.  With the grass, you couldn't see there was anyone
there.  But we were small enough then that we could sneak through the
grass until we were behind a bush that grew right next to that walnut
tree, and through the branches, we could see everything."

I didn't say anything, and I made no move to put on the underwear in
my lap.  This was amazing!  I'd never even thought about my Uncle Paul,
 or Uncle James -- or my mom! -- masturbating.  Or of the sisters watching
their brothers do it in secret!

Aunt Sandra licked her lips, still deep in her reverie.  "They had an
old porno mag out there, stuck into a crack at the base of the walnut
tree.  We snuck out and looked at it, of course.  It was pretty tame
compared to what you can get nowadays, but it was racy by the standards
of the day.  They'd haul that thing out, and sit side by side looking
at it for awhile, then they'd drop their pants and rub those big cocks
of theirs until they sprayed come all over the place!"

She laughed then, a deep, throaty laugh, and then stopped abruptly with
a gasp.  "Oh my god!  Rob, my language -- I'm sorry.  That was inappropriate.
 I shouldn't talk like that, especially about your uncles."

I smiled.  "That's okay, Aunt Sandra.  I feel okay about it now, not
as embarrassed.  Thank you for telling me."  I felt better than okay
-- I again had a raging hard on from imagining my Aunt Sandra watching
*me* masturbate.  I found myself wanting to keep her talking.

"I masturbate," I said, steadily.  "See?  I'm already not as embarrassed
as I was just a minute ago.  Now that I know you're not mad, and that
you've seen Uncle Paul and Uncle James do it."

Aunt Sandra regarded me levelly for a moment, and then said, "Yes.  I
can see you are more at ease, for better or worse.  But this little memory
session has gone on long enough.  Now put those shorts on and --" She
stopped, then sighed, a small smile playing about her lips.  "I see that
once again putting your shorts on is impossible.  Fine, you'll have to
go without tonight."

She stood up and moved to the head of the bed.  "Now crawl up here and
get under the covers.  It's time for bed."

I did as she asked, vaguely disappointed to be layered in coverings.
 I wanted her to look at my penis again.  But once I was between the
sheets and Aunt Sandra snugged the blankets under my chin, I consoled
myself by wrapping my fist around my dick and squeezing it rhythmically.

"Now rest easy, my little man," Aunt Sandra said, leaning down to kiss
me on the forehead.  "Sleep tight, and don't worry.  I'm going to go
brush my teeth and then I'll be right next door, okay?"

"Okay Aunt Sandra," I said.  My penis throbbed in my hand.  Aunt Sandra
retreated to the doorway and snapped off the light.

"Door open or closed?" she asked.

"Open," I replied.  I normally kept it closed, lately so I could jerk
off in private before catching the semen in a sock I had hidden under
my bed.  But tonight...tonight I wanted it open, for a number of different
reasons.  "Good night."

"Good night Rob," Aunt Sandra said, turning away down the hall.

I lay there in the semi-darkness, idly stroking at my dick, and I thought
about everything that had happened that evening.  I somehow found a way
to keep from thinking about my mom, even when I was imagining Sandra
and her sisters spying on their brothers' jerk-off sessions.  Now that
was exciting.  I stroked at my dick a little faster.

I imagined my Aunt Sandra in the bathroom, where I could hear some water
running.  I pictured her breasts as they had looked when I got the brief
glance at them while she was helping me out of the shower.  I heard the
bathroom door click closed, and I knew she was using the toilet.  I imagined
her lifting her nightgown, pulling down her panties - no!  She wasn't
wearing panties...yeah, that's better.  Pulling up her nightgown to sit
down on the toilet, revealing a patch of pubic hair...

Suddenly, I was coming in my fist - gigantic, heaving mounds of jism,
 and my eyes went blurry with the force of my orgasm.  I jerked at my
cock, riding the crest of the wave, feeling the hot come pouring over
my fingers, my mouth wide open and gasping for air as the force of it
shook my body.

Slowly it abated, as under the covers my come-covered hand continued
to move up and down the length of my still hard cock.  I was covered
in a thin film of sweat, and the sheets clung to me as I moved my arm
underneath them.

I quit moving my hand and instead just lay there for a moment, clutching
at my slowly softening cock.  I was amazed - I'd never come so intensely
before!

Gradually my elation turned to disgust, as the come on my hand began
to cool and the mess I'd made of my sheets became apparent.

That was stupid, I thought to myself.  I hadn't made that mistake since
the first time I'd come, accidentally, not know what was going on.  After
that, I had used the sock, not having enjoyed having damp, sticky sheets
all night long.

Using my left hand, I struggled to draw the covers back without getting
any more semen from my right fist - still locked around my penis - onto
the sheets and blankets.  After managing to uncover my groin and the
mess there, I struggled up out of bed, again not using my right hand.
 Once I was out of bed, I tried to examine the mess on the sheets in
the dim light filtering into my room from the hallway.

Yeah - it was a mess all right.  I thought about what I was going to
do.  I'd go wash my hand and cock off in the bathroom, but did I want
to bother with changing the sheets?  I certainly didn't want to sleep
in the wetness...

As I thought about it, I made my way cautiously down the hallway.  Despite
her revelations to me, I didn't really want to run into Aunt Sandra while
I was covered in semen.  The bathroom door was open and the light was
off, but the guestroom door was closed with a bit of light shining out
from underneath it.  She might be reading or something.  I'd have to
be quiet.

I eased the bathroom door shut behind me, turning the knob before closing
it so there would be no clicking as it latched.  I left the light off,
 which made it harder to see, but was less obvious, I thought.  I turned
on the hot water tap in the sink low, so it wasn't loud, and waited a
moment for the water to heat up.  I carefully washed off my hand, using
a bit of soap from the dispenser by the sink.

Leaving the tap on, I fetched a washcloth from the linen cabinet and
soaked it in the hot water, before bringing it down to wipe at my cock
and thighs, where the shiny wet semen was coated thickly.

I'd gone over my thighs once, had rinsed the cloth and was just attacking
my dick (and ruefully finding it hardening again) when the door swung
open.

I thought I was over my embarrassments for the evening, but I again found
myself turning beet-red as Aunt Sandra found me there, left hand holding
my penis at the tip while my right wiped the come off it with a cloth.

I froze.  I couldn't say a word and didn't know what to do.

"I thought I left the water faucet on," Aunt Sandra said calmly, flipping
on the light.  "I didn't think you'd be in here."

"I made a mess," I said very quietly.  "And I had to get cleaned up."

"Ah," Aunt Sandra said.  "Are you almost done?"

"Yes," I said, nodding once.

"Well don't let me stop you," she said, leaning up against the doorframe.
 "If you don't get it before it dries, it's harder to get off."

I nodded again and went back to wiping at myself without saying anything
more.  Aunt Sandra stayed in the doorway, watching me.

"You missed a spot there," she said, pointing.

"Thanks," I replied, giving it another swipe with the cloth.

By the time I finished, I longer had to hold my penis with my left hand
- it was again at full mast, and throbbing semi-painfully.  I rinsed
the cloth a final time and wrung it out before turning off the sink.
 I put the cloth in the clothes hamper inside linen cabinet and turned
towards where Aunt Sandra stood in the doorway.

"Ah, for youth," she said.

"What?" I asked, not understanding.

"Nothing," Aunt Sandra replied, flipping the light switch and turning
out into the hall.  "Come on then, let's get you back to bed."

"But Aunt Sandra," I began as I followed her down the hall to my room.

"What is it now, Rob?" she asked.  "It really is time for me to be asleep,
 and you too I think."

"I...I have to change my sheets first," I said morosely.

We had reached my room and Aunt Sandra turned on the lights, exposing
the ruin of my bed.

"Oh Robbie," she said.  "That's quite a mess."

"I didn't mean to!" I exclaimed, feeling guilty.  "It just happened!
 I'm sorry."

She sighed and flipped the lights off again.

"It's okay sweetheart.  I know.  I'm too tired to change your sheets
tonight.  Come on - you can sleep with me in the guestroom, and we'll
change them tomorrow."

She turned towards the guestroom, leaving me with my mouth hanging open
in amazement, my cock throbbing all the harder suddenly.  I wondered
if she expected me to fetch some sort of pajamas, thinking that she probably
did.

I was torn, teetering on the edge of dashing into my room for a pair
of sweatpants or striding boldly down the hall to slide naked into bed
beside my aunt when she called out, "Come on Rob.  I mean it - or you
can sleep in the mess you made in your bed."

That did it.  I literally scampered down the hall and into the guestroom,
 closing the door behind me.  Aunt Sandra stood on one side of the bed
where the reading lamp was on, watching me.

"Okay you.  You're on that side," she said, pointing opposite her.  "Get
into bed, and try to get some sleep, okay?  I feel like I could sleep
for ten years, myself."

She drew back the covers on her side of the bed as I did the same on
mine and slid my naked form down into the chill of the sheets.  Aunt
Sandra sat on the edge of the bed and peeled off her socks before sliding
her feet under the covers and pulling them up on her side.

"Brrr," she said.  "Kind of chilly, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh," I mumbled, as I curled myself into a small ball, trying to
get some warmth generated.

"It will warm up soon," Aunt Sandra said as she reached over and turned
off the light.  "Good night Robbie.  Lean over here and give your Auntie
a kiss."

I uncurled myself and slid over to her side of the bed.  She had her
cheek tilted up to me, but instead I kissed her on the lips.

"G-g-g'night," I said, my teeth chattering together.

I felt my aunt's hand find mine in the darkness.

"Goodness Robbie!  You're freezing!" she exclaimed.

"N-n-no n-n-nightgown," I chattered.

"Or anything else," my aunt chuckled.  "Slide over here baby.  Snuggle
up to me.  That's good.  Auntie will warm you up."

I slid over to her, and she turned on her side towards me.  I pressed
my back up against the heat of her, my head resting on her arm with the
top just below her chin, and she wrapped her other arm over me, rubbing
briskly up and down my arm and side, warming my skin.

"There baby," she said, and I could feel her voice in her chest against
my back.  "You'll be warm soon enough."

I held the hand of the arm I rested my head on between both of my own,
 and relished the heat from it.  I was quite cold.  Well, most of me
was.  My cock was still rock hard, and pulsing even more now that I had
my naked back and ass pressed against my aunt's warm body.  I thought
I could feel the heat of my prick radiating up to wash over my face.

My aunt continued to run her hand up and down my arm and side, but slower
now, and I felt her breathing get slower and deeper as well.  Despite
my best efforts and despite the fact that I had the biggest erection
of my life so far, I too found myself drifting closer and closer towards
sleep.

I was halfway there when I heard my aunt's breath hitch, and I realized
the fingers on her roving hand had just brushed across my penis.

"Robbie," she said.

"Mmmm-huh," I muttered, not even her brief touch rousing me from my drift
towards slumber.

"We're not going to have a mess in my bed like you have in yours are
we?" she asked.

"Mmmm-uh," I mumbled sleepily.

"Are you sure?" she pressed.

"Mmmm-huh.  Was masturbating before."

"I thought you said it was an accident?"

"Mess was an accident," I muttered.  Sleep was so close -- I could feel
it pulling at me.  The words I spoke didn't seem real.  "You made it
too fast."

"I made it too fast?"

"Mmmm-huh.  You're pretty.  Soft.  Looked at my penis.  Too fast."

And with that, I fell asleep.

--

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