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Subject: Title story: "[inc] story:" Author: INCESTOR 59848874
From: Family Man <familyincest@graffiti.net>
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Date: Fri, 18 Nov 2005 21:08:30 +0000
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http://www.incesttabooo.com/
Aunt Peg Looking at my mother and her younger sister, it was hard to imagine
that they were separated in age by ten years. My aunt, recently divorced from
her very successful and work-addicted attorney husband, was an exceptionally youthful-
appearing 34-years-old woman.
My mother, soon to be 44, had the same tawny hair and blue eyes, the same slim
feminine figure, toned by tennis and aerobics. The family resemblance was
striking. That they were sisters was not questioned, but that they were ten-
years apart was remarkable. We'd picked up Aunt Peg at the United Terminal at
SFO this morning. While my aunt and my mother were emotionally close, they'd not
had the chance to spend much time together in recent years, each pursuing
separate careers on opposite sides of the country. In some abstract way, mostly
from snapshots, I knew Aunt Peg as a good-looking woman but I wasn't prepared
for the vivacious lady who walked with us to the Baggage Claim area. After the
crashing greeting Mom and Aunt Peg gave each other in the Arrivals Area, she'd
turned to me and, grabbing both my hands, held them out and looked me up and
down frankly for a moment before saying, "Bobby! God, you're a grown-up man!" I
heard my mother comment, almost as an aside, "They rarely ever grow *smaller*."
Draping one arm over my shoulder and sliding the other under my arm, she gave me
a full-body hug . . . a long one. I was acutely aware of her body. I could feel
her breasts against my chest and her pelvis against mine. I looked over her
shoulder and saw my mother watching us with a broad, approving smile on her
face. If Mom only knew! She'd probably not be so approving if she could read my
mind. My thoughts were anything but innocent. Quite the contrary, my thoughts
were mostly lewd and lascivious. Looking into my mom's eyes - as I felt the slim
body of her younger sister, a near-carbon copy - I was remembering that I had
been secretly turned on by my mother for several years and this was the closest
I'd come to feeling her body. Embarrassed at the sudden lurch in my groin at
feeling my aunt's body, I pulled back. Aunt Peg held to me a moment longer and
almost stumbled forward when I stepped away. I could feel the heat in my face
and hoped that neither of them would notice my blush or my tumescence. Jezz . .
. this was my deep, dark secret and my body was betraying me. Mom and Aunt Peg
were beaming at each other and appeared not to notice my discomfort. Yet, I knew
my mom. She missed little, but in her kindness and sensitivity, often chose to
ignore it for the moment. Later, however, she'd let me know that she'd noted
whatever it was I was wishing she hadn't noticed. She always shared with me her
thoughts and insights, both of herself and me, and always in a gentle, loving
manner and never with moral judgement. She was a particularly accepting woman
who loved me without qualification. Still, I was capable of being embarrassed at
my own thoughts. They'd turned to a strong sexual interest in Mom in the past
few years, ever since I was fifteen or so. And now, with the added closeness of
these weeks of vacation before my last year of college, I was even more aware of
her. In the five or six years since their divorce, I'd spent time with both my
parents without need to choose between them. Because my dad traveled so much,
there was never any debate where I'd stay finishing high school or, more
recently, college. Mom's house was the natural choice. We became good friends .
. . even buddies.
Our relationship changed. It matured. She had gradually shared much of the
emotional feelings about my dad. It was clear that she still loved him on some
levels, but had come to accept their diverging paths. She dated infrequently . .
. obviously, her choice. I was aware that Mom accepted my sexuality as well as
her own in a forthright manner that I didn't think my buddies had experienced
with their mothers. For instance, when I first started having wet-dreams, I was
mortified that she'd find out, but it was inevitable. She didn't ignore the
soiled sheets and pretend nothing was going on. Rather, she found ways to let me
know that she knew and that it was normal. I can't recall how she did it, but in
oblique ways she let me know that it was a desirable masculine trait. Once,
holding up a cum-stained sheet, she smiled at me and said, "Aren't you lucky?" I
didn't really know what she meant, but I got the message that it was okay to
have sexy dreams. And another time, picking up the Jockeys that I'd forgotten,
she fingered the stiff crotch and observed, "I understand, Billy. I used to have
the same problem." That gave me a jolt! What problem had she had? I'd been aware
of her sexy body since I was a young teenager. The years we'd spent alone
together had allowed a growing intimacy. My interest and her increasing
casualness provided many opportunities for me to "check her out." While I'd
never seen her completely naked, I had seen almost all of her body at one time
or another. It never ceased to thrill me, but I could never talk about it with
my friends, and I'd die of shame if I thought she knew. Despite her openness and
nonjudgmental stance, I remained guilty about my licentious desires. I hadn't,
and couldn't, talk about my thoughts with Mom. But when Aunt Peg arrived,
several years of suppressed imagery came boiling to my foreconscious. I was
simultaneously thrilled at the vague possibilities and horrified at my "dirty
mind." "Aunt Peg . . . ," I started to say at the same time my mom said, "Peg .
. ." We both stopped, waited and then laughed. I nodded to my mom to go ahead,
but Aunt Peg spoke first: "Billy . . . may I call you Billy? . . . I'd be much
more comfortable if you called me Peg or even Peggy. Right now I don't want to
be an aunt . . . I don't want to be all grown up. I just want to hang out with
you guys and let you take care of me. Okay?" "Sure, Aunt P . . . uh . . .
Peggy," I replied as Mom took her arm and added, "My sweet sister, Peggy . . .
we'd be delighted to take care of you. You've no idea how Billy and I have been
looking forward to your staying with us. Our house is bigger than we need and
with Billy home for the summer and me at work each day, you can keep each other
company. Can't she, Billy?" Not waiting for a reply, Peg grabbed my arm and off
we walked, three abreast, to the Baggage Claim. "Abreast" is an apt description.
Hugging my right arm against her, I was keenly aware of the swell of Peg's
breast against me. Her summer dress outlined her breasts and nipples, plainly
visible as they moved to her stride. As she turned her head to talk to Mom, I
dropped my glance into the loose top of her dress and saw flashes of the upper
swell of her right breast and the lacy, scanty cup of her bra. The strap must
have inserted on the side of the cup, for I could see a flash of areola when she
burst into laughter at some comment of Mom's. "Well . . . do you *want* to,
Billy?" Peg's voice brought me back to the moment and I looked up to see both of
them looking expectantly at me. Peg and Mom both smiled at my discomfort, for my
staring down the front of Peg's dress had been blatant. I was caught, red faced.
This was going to be a long summer. "I said," Peg continued, "would you like to
baby sit me this afternoon? Mary - that was my mother's name, Mary - Mary says
the hot tub's been fixed and I'd just like to kick back. But I don't want to be
alone. Will you stay with me my first day?" I'd already broken a tennis date
with a friend when I had heard we were going to pick up Aunt Peg. "You bet," I
replied, "I'd been expecting that we'd visit this afternoon and . . ." looking
up at the sunny California sky, "with weather like this, the sun deck calls out
to us!" "That's my son," Mom said. "You can count on his enthusiasm when it
comes to soaking up radiation." Looking across Peg at Mom, I was again struck by
the resemblance of these two women. They both looked younger than their ages and
so good looking my chest swelled with pride. I imagined every guy in the place
was envious of me. After we'd loaded Peg's numerous bags in the car, both in the
trunk and the front seat, I asked her, "What do you carry for a weekend . . . a
single steamer trunk?" "Quit whining, big boy! I thought I was invited out for
the whole summer? Bikinis take up a lot of room!" "I can sure tell that you and
Mom are sisters! Remind me not to travel with both of you at once, won't you?"
The ride back from SFO, down I-280, was fast and pleasant. Glancing over my
right shoulder from time to time, I watched Mom and Peg in animated conversation
that was punctuated with frequent laughs and squealing outbursts. Catching my
eye in the rear-view mirror, Peg smiled and gave me a broad wink when Mom said,
"I hope you two don't argue the way we used to." "C'mon, Mary . . . you just
remember me as a little kid. I'm *much* easier than I used to be," Peg
protested. I thought I heard Mom murmur something like, "If you're any *easier*,
Billy's in for it." "What's that?" I asked. "Oh, nothin', you nosey kid," Mom
spoke up. "Your Mom's referring to my . . . uh, several relationships since the
divorce," and turning to my mother, she said, "Isn't that right?" Mom appeared
flustered for a moment, a rare phenomenon and then apologized in a rush, "Oh,
Peg! I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . . I mean, that was cruel of me and I'm truly
sorry." Then to me, "Billy, I'm ashamed of myself. Your aunt's a grown woman . .
. not my kid sister anymore . . . and she has a right to live her life any way
she chooses. Whatever it sounded like, I didn't mean it that way. I love her and
whatever she does is okay with me." That last, I think, was directed more toward
Peg than me, but I chimed in anyway: "I'm really glad you're so young. It'll be
like having a big sister." What "relationships" I wondered. The moment of
tension had passed and the last leg of the 45-minute trip from the airport was
made in a relaxed silence. As we drove up the driveway to our home in the hills
behind Stanford University, I spoke for the first time in the last little while:
"You'll really like our home, Peg. I know you've seen pictures, but they can't
capture the beauty and peace of the place . . . huh, Mom?" Before she could
answer, we entered the circular drive in front of our long, ranch-style redwood
house framed by a couple of huge redwood trees. Tami, the half-lab, adolescent
hound came bounding out to greet us. "The biggest danger of Tami is that she'll
slobber you to death," I cautioned as we all piled out. Peg, screening her eyes,
looked at the surrounding hills. While we're located on less than ten acres, the
adjacent open-space lands to the south gave the illusion that our place went on
forever. "Nice digs," she observed. Mom gave Peg a hug and a peck on the cheek
and explained again, "I'm sorry to hug and run, but I've got a hot deal cookin'
and I need to be at the office, especially today and probably tomorrow. Forgive
me, won't you? Billy, you take care of your new sister, hear?" We both waved her
off and then I turned to Peg and said, "Well, it's just you and me, kid!" "All
right! Let's get the luggage in and where's that hot tub?" We both made several
trips and piled Peg's bags in one of the guest rooms closest to our rooms. Mom
has the big master bed room and I have a smaller room, down the hall, separated
from her's by a walk-in closet and, next to that, the master bath. Actually, I
shared the master bath with Mom, even though there was a second bath on this
floor and a third upstairs in the guest wing of the house. "You can use any of
the bathrooms, Peg. Just make yourself at home." Looking right, then left, with
a quizzical expression, Peg said, "Just point me, Billy! I've gotta take a
leak." How blunt, I thought. Nothing shy about this girl. My mother might have
asked to use the restroom, but I'd never heard a woman profess a desire to take
a leak'. There was something honest, unpretentious, earthy and even sexy about
Peg wanting to take a leak.' Raising both hands and pointing in opposite
directions, I said, "Your choice." "Be right with you," she said as she ran off
to the master bath. Then louder, "Tell me again. How long have you and Mary been
in this house?" "More than ten years," I shouted, expecting to hear the bathroom
door slam. But it didn't and after the rustle of her clothes, I could hear a
soft sigh. Over the sound of her peeing, she said, "Would you give me a tour of
the place? In a minute that is," she added, laughing. In my mind's eye, I could
see her next door, just on the other side of that wall. She flushed and then
washed her hands, adding, "Let me change first, okay? I showered this morning,
but it seems like yesterday." She rounded the corner and walked into my bedroom
where I'd been looking, unseeing, out the window, listening to the bathroom
sounds she had made. Bending, she looked between the blinds into the sunny, south-
facing canyon and said, "Golly, every direction has a nice view!" Again, I was
aware of the touch of her breast on the back of my arm and glancing at her, my
heart stopped. Bent slightly at the waist, her dress had fallen away and I had
an unobstructed view of her bra-clad breasts. Zap! My mind disengaged and for
the second time, Peg caught me looking down her dress. Laying a hand on my arm
she said, "I'm pleased that you like me, Billy!" "I'm sorry," I said. "That was
impolite of me." "Billy, Billy, Billy! I may be your aunt, but I feel more like
your big sister, and we're going to be living together for months, right?" I
nodded, dumbly and she went on, "Well, you're probably going to see more than
this, so let's just agree not to get embarrassed with each other. Okay?" "Gee,
Peg . . . ," I faltered and then didn't know what to say. "Can we be frank with
each other? She asked, turning to look at me. Motioning her to the seat by the
window, I sat on the end of the bed and said, "Sounds serious." Throwing her
head back and shaking her tawny hair, exactly like Mom does when she's
dismissing the importance of something, Peg replied, laughing, "Well, only a
little serious, guy. Actually, it's more about me. When I came out here I knew
I'd talk with you about it . . . just came up sooner than I planned is all." I
hated "serious" conversations. I always felt as if the other shoe was going to
drop. One of the scariest things is when someone says, "I want to talk with you
later." More often, it's nothing of consequence, or they want to thank me for
something, or ask some trivial question . . . but my mind makes it into a big
deal. With more calm than I felt, I replied, "Shoot." Peg slipped off her shoes
and pulled one foot under her other knee, then leaned back in the chair, looking
at me. She started, "Mary tells me that you're a very mature, levelheaded guy
and that she trusts you with everything. That right?" I detected no direction to
this conversation, but it seemed safe to reply, "I think I'm level headed. How
mature I am is arguable. Whether Mom trusts me with *everything* . . . why, I
don't know." She leaned forward and wrapped her hands around her bent knee,
balanced for a moment, and then slowly allowed herself to rock back in the
chair, still holding her knee this pulled her leg up and suddenly I could see
high up on one thigh. The late-afternoon son, which had me in shadow,
illuminated her legs and lower body. Shit! How could I listen to her and not
stare under her dress? "No matter. I *do* know my sister and I trust her
judgement. She told me I could trust you, so I do. That's it. Okay?" "Okay with
me, but what's that got to do with anything? I'm not certain where this is
headed." Peg hit her thigh with her fist and said, "Rats! I'm beating around the
bush and making this into something it isn't . . . in any event, it's no big
deal. I'll get on with it." Pulling her leg up again and rocking back allowed
her summer dress, already short, to fall back into her lap, showing off even
more of her thighs. Another inch or two, I thought, and I'd see her panties.
"Did you know that our parents - your grandparents - were occasional nudists?"
"Yeah. Mom mentioned to me that when she was a kid she got to go to some camp
with them but I thought they didn't do it very much later on." "Yes, that's
right . . . but when I asked - years later - if I could try it out, they said,
"Sure, go ahead. We think you'll like it.' And I did," she added in a rush.
"Did? Try the camp, you mean?" "No. I didn't go to the camp, but I did start
sunbathing in the nude in our backyard by the pool. It was a very private
place." Still not getting it, I said, "So?" "So, I never stopped. I still like
to sunbathe in the nude. In fact, I like to spend a lot of my time around the
house with no clothes. Mary knows about it . . . she always has . . . and when I
asked her about you . . . whether it would upset you . . . that's when she told
me you were mature. Are you?" Cripes no, I thought to myself. "Uh, yeah . . .
I'm okay with it . . . with anything . . . but," and here I trailed off, leaving
unsaid the vision I had of myself, crouched over, hiding an erection that I knew
would jump out if I saw any naked girls . . . particularly her. "Billy, what's
the but' you left hanging out there? But what?" (End of Chapter One) The second
and concluding chapter of a young man and his incestuous involvement with his
aunt. Aunt Peg Chapter Two (of two) She unhooked her legs and then rehooked them
the other way, momentarily lifting and parting her legs . . . giving me a clear
but brief flash of bikini panties. Printed on my visual cortex was the flower
print of the panties as they disappeared under her butt. Using her ploy, I
countered, "Can I be frank with *you*?" I wasn't at all sure what I'd be frank
about, but it served to turn off the heat for a moment. Or so I thought. With an
impish grin, she challenged me: "It's about sex, isn't it? That's okay. I'm cool
with it. You can talk with me," she answered in four separate bursts and then
smiled at me as if to say, "Gotcha!" "No! I mean, yes . . . well . . . kinda. I
mean, I wanna be open, but I've never talked about this stuff before." I looked
at her for a clue. She just nodded and smiled again. "You see, I don't mind if
you . . . ah . . . sunbathe without any clothes . . . but I'm afraid that you .
. . uh . . . you'd be upset with me . . . if . . . ," I stalled again. "You're
afraid I'd be upset if you got an erection, huh? Is that it?" "Well, sure . . .
it'd happen, I know . . . and then I'd have to . . . well, you know." "I hope it
would happen! I'd be upset if you didn't respond to me, Billy." Then, tilting
her head, she paused and then softly asked, "And then you'd have to what? Jack
off?" I could believe she said that! How'd she know? It may have been my red
face, or perhaps the furtive look in my eyes, looking for a way out . . . I
don't know, but thank goodness, she didn't leave me hanging. Reaching out, as if
to touch me sympathetically, she said, "Don't worry about it. All guys think
that's what's going to happen, but it'll go away, I promise." Still embarrassed,
I retorted, "Yeah. A lot you know!" "Billy, it's okay with me. Really. It's just
okay if it does or if it doesn't. I understand." What was going on here? I
couldn't believe this line of conversation. Here I was, talking about my woodie
with my aunt, my mother's look-alike, as if were the most natural thing in the
world. And all the time I'm scrunching down, further and further . . . both to
hide my boner as well as to try to see under her dress. My mouth was dry and my
heart was pounding in my throat and I was never so horny in my life. And she was
telling me it was okay. Hah! Peg suddenly dropped her foot to the floor and,
sitting up, jammed her skirt between her legs. "Anyway, it's important for me
that you know who I am and that I am honest with you. We're both human.
Moreover, we're both adults and we know how to act properly, don't we?" Suddenly
I could see the humor in it and I replied, "My head knows how to be a proper
adult, but my body doesn't always listen. But if you're okay with that, then
I'll try to be too." With a tone of finality she said, "Good! I'm going to put a
few things away and then you promised me a sunny California afternoon on the
deck if I remember." "You change and I'll uncover the hot tub. It's already hot,
so I'll turn on the Jacuzzi jets." Having something to do helped calm me a
little. By the time I'd set up the chairs and uncovered the hot tub, Peg stepped
out on the deck wearing a shortie terry-cloth robe. Her bare thighs flashed as
she walked toward me. She smiled and with erotic slowness, began to loosen her
belt. As the belt dropped, she held the front of the robe together for a moment
before turning away. She stepped into the tub and, in the same motion, dropped
the robe to the deck. For a brief two seconds, I saw her bare back, the narrow
waist and a surprising flare of her hips for such a slim girl. More as an after
image, I saw the cheeks of her ass as she slipped into the bubbling water.
Submerged to her neck, she turned and appraised me. Unsmiling, she looked me up
and down. I felt good about my chest and shoulders I'd received those parts of
me as my father's genetic gift. But I felt my legs were too skinny . . . another
genetic inheritance. Still, all those considerations faded at the thought of
taking my clothes off right in front of Peg. You see, what was really bothering
me was my dick . . . or how I felt about my dick. I thought it was either too
small - when it was soft - or shamefully too-erect when hard. I just couldn't
win. Sweeping her arm through the water in a welcoming gesture, Peg said, "C'mon
Billy. Join me. Please. I don't want to soak all alone . . . and you promised."
The last bit was said with a petulant, little-girl tone. "Okay, okay, okay. Just
a minute, will ya?" Turning my back, I slipped out of my jeans and undershorts
as I thought, "Shit! Why didn't I take my shirt off first . . . now she'll be
looking at my bare ass!" In a sing-song, little-girl voice, Peg chanted, "I see
Billy's bu-ut, I see Billy's bu-ut." Once again, she broke the tension of my
embarrassment and I laughed at myself. Stripping off my shirt, I swung around
and stepped into the tub, watching Peg watch me. Sure enough, her eyes were
focused on my hard-on as I sat in the stream of bubbles from the Jacuzzi. Then
she looked into my eyes and said, "Nice!" I decided to take the offense and
said, "Speaking of nice butts . . ." Her smile was dazzling as she responded,
"Well, thank you, kind sir." "Tell me, Peg . . . what is it? I mean, what is it
about being naked that you like? Do you like to show your body to people . . .
to a guy? Or is it that you like to look at other people?" The water was a
little too hot for me, so I sat on a higher step, partially out of the water.
Glancing down, I could see through the swirling bubbles. My cock appeared and
disappeared, often looking distorted. "It is a little too hot, isn't it?" Peg
agreed and slid up to the same step across from me. The water and bubbles ran
off her breasts and I could see her entire front. She had no tan lines around
her full breasts and her nipples were erect and dark. As they had at the
airport, they swayed slightly as she ran her hand over the water. My proper
upbringing wanted me to look away, politely . . . while my libido had quite
another agenda. Score one for the libido. I stared. She continued, "Both
actually. I mean, I like to look at other people and I get a real thrill when I
know someone's looking at me . . . at my tits for instance . . . like you're
looking. Like em?" "Does a bear shit in the woods? Like em? That's not nearly
strong enough." "Oh goodie! I'm so glad we can be buddies and we can share our
inside stuff with each other. I mean, it's not like we're going to have sex or
anything, but I really like that you like me, that you . . . uh . . . like my
tits." "Peg, I can talk with Mom about anything . . . or *almost* anything. But
I've never had a girl that would be open with me about . . . well, about sexual
things. If I sound awkward, it's because I am." "Bill, we're going to be
together all summer. Let's agree that we can talk with each other about anything
. . . about everything . . . okay? No judgement?" "Well, if you're not put off
by my . . . my erection . . . then I'd just love to talk with you about . . .
girls' bodies and about . . . sex. I must have about a million questions." "Yeah-yeah-
yeah . . . me too. I mean, I was able to talk with my ex-husband about a lot of
things, but there were some things that he got embarrassed about . . . and that
made me embarrassed. Know what I mean?" "It works the other way for me, too.
What I mean is . . . because you're not embarrassed by me or our conversation,
then I'm not. Like that?" "Sure. Just like that. For instance, I always wanted
to examine Paul's dick. Oh, he'd let me look at it a little, I guess, but I
think he always was a little put off and that spoiled it for me. Even more, I
wanted to show him my . . . what shall I call it . . . my pussy? Yeah, my pussy!
I wanted to show it to him but he really didn't want to look at it. I could
tell." She paused and then added a little sadly, "I think he thought it was
ugly." "What a jerk!" That was about the gravest putdown I could think of. "I
love pussies," I declared, with a fervor usually reserved for the niners. "When
I was a lot younger, there was a girl next door and she let me . . ." I caught
myself. With eyes wide, I put the pulp of my fingers across my lips and said,
"Oops. Don't mean to tell tales out of school." Laughing, Peg said, "Yeah. Me
too. Only the guy next door was younger than me! Like you." In some silent
synchronicity, we sat looking at each other. The swishing hum of the Jacuzzi was
the only sound. I reached over and punched the Off button and watched the
bubbles disappear, revealing Peg's belly and the juncture of her thighs. Through
the clearing water, I could see her pubic hair, light brown in color and trimmed
to a vertical swatch. I couldn't see the lips of her sex . . . just her mons.
Again, I could feel my heart beat and my dick started to hurt it was so hard. I
was mindless and in a rut - I just stared. Peg whispered, "Billy, wanna see?"
Looking up into her eyes, not certain what she was asking, I nodded dumbly. She
stood up and the water drained off her belly and thighs. She opened her stance
and I could see the water running off her pubic hair and pussy lips. It was like
she was peeing in the water. Her lips were bare! She'd shaved the hair from her
lips. They looked like the little girl's next door had looked. Now it was my
turn. "Nice!" I observed, looking directly between her legs. In a breathy voice
she replied, "Thanks," as she sat on the edge of the tub. She lifted one foot to
the edge of the tub and rested her cheek on her knee as she swung the other knee
away, completely opening her sex to my stare. The lips of her pussy opened as
her legs spread and for the first time in my life I could see the mysterious
coral tissue of a pussy. The outer lips were tanned and clean shaven. The inner
lips were more delicate and pink, connected in a hood at the top of her slit.
Her clit was barely seen at first, but when she reached down and pulled her lips
up and open with the inverted-V of the second and third fingers of her right
hand, her clit suddenly looked larger and very pink. "This is my pussy, Billy.
Have you ever seen one . . . I mean on a grown-up woman?" "No. Well, yes . . .
but only in pictures. God! You're beautiful!" Unthinking, I began stroking my
dick as I stared at her, entranced. Peg bent over, looking between her own
splayed legs and with the forefinger of her left hand, she traced a touch from
between the cheeks of her butt up to the exposed clit. Touching the nubbin of
her clitoris, she shuddered and softly moaned. "I think a girl's pussy - or do
you call it a cunt? - anyway, I think that a girl's pussy is so intimate. You
know . . . you can see *into* a girl . . . there's something about seeing into
someone that is so private. And it is that intimacy that just thrills me. Know
what I mean?" She'd buried the tip of one finger in her cunt, up to the middle
knuckle, and was slowly stirring. She continued, "It'd be like you bending over
and showing me your ass hole, Billy . . . or more like you opening up your ass
hole and showing me the pink inside." She shuddered again and said, "Oooh, that
makes me shiver!" By this time I was standing close to her, a little bent,
looking at her finger move through the slit of her bare pussy as I was fisting
my cock . . . masturbating without even knowing it. Without knowing it that is,
until I was suddenly on the brink of coming . . . then I knew it! How'd that
happen? This beautiful woman - who looked so like my mom - standing there,
slowly touching herself as I, unthinking, jacked off! I couldn't move . . . and
I couldn't stop. I was going to shoot and I just couldn't stop. Looking up into
her eyes I grunted, "Gotta cum . . . gonna cum!" "Yes! On me. Cum on me, Billy.
Me too. Right on my pussy. Right on my cunt. On my asshole . . . oh, cum, cum,
cum for me, please . . . PLEASE!" I could hear her voice as it ran on, almost
guttural and I could hear the slapping sounds of my right hand on my cock. I
could see her hands . . . the left finger fucking herself deeply and the right
thumb strumming her clit. Her words ran together and became a crescendo scream
as I shot ropy bursts of white, thick cum over her hands and pubic hair and the
lips of her open pussy. My orgasm was so intense, it almost hurt in its
pleasure. My legs were weak and my head was dizzy. I couldn't stand any more and
fell back into the tub. My next awareness was Peg's voice saying, "Oh, Billy.
That was wonderful. That was so hot. You can't know how much I needed that.
Thank you, thank you . . . oh yes, thank you!" Lifting her hand, she looked at
her fingers and then licked the puddles of cum off her wrist and the back of her
hand as she looked into my eyes. "I love the taste of cum!" A jolt of searing
fear went through me. Peg and my mother were such close friends, Peg would tell
Mom and then . . . God, I'd be in deep shit. I asked, "You gonna tell mom about
this? Oh, please don't tell her. What'll she think?" With a nasty little laugh,
Peg said, "Billy, your mom knows more about you than you think. She *knew* we
were going to do this . . . she'd already given me the okay. Said it'd be good
for you. Mary's a hot lady, don't you know?"
End
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