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Subject: Title story: "Aunt Peg" Author: INCESTOR 62131182
From: Family Man <familyincest@graffiti.net>
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Date: Thu, 15 Dec 2005 07:02:56 +0000
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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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