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Subject: Title story: "AUNT BETTY" Author: INCESTOR 62134558
From: Family Man <familyincest@graffiti.net>
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Date: Thu, 15 Dec 2005 07:59:12 +0000
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AUNT BETTY PART 1 In the year 196x I was a shy but oversexed 18 year-old college
freshman, and I had just moved into my Aunt Betty's compact single family house
in Southern California. Actually, she isn't my aunt exactly, but my fathers
younger cousin, but to me and my kid brother she was always Aunt Betty. I'll
describe her in just a bit, but first let me tell you how this situation arose.
I got a full-tuition scholarship at a "good" science and engineering university,
but no help with the room and board. We could barely afford transport to and
from my native Ohio, let alone a dorm room and meal plan. It was my father's
idea to have me rent a room with his 37 year-old cousin, whose much older
husband had died a couple of years before, leaving her with a small house and
not a heck of a lot else. Dad's plan was for me to do a host of chores around
the house and pool and yard in exchange for my room and board. Plus I think he
wrote some checks to Aunt Betty, otherwise the exchange would have been too
uneven. I had always remembered Aunt Betty as a chunky lady with delicate
features, a double chin, short dark hair and a sweet, low, soothing voice. The
last time I saw her, she actually baby-sat for me and my younger brother, when
she was still living in Ohio. I guess I was around 10 and she was almost 30,
still unmarried. When I arrived at her house on an unseasonably hot September
day, with my old suitcase and a big nylon duffle bag, I was in for a shock which
literally took my breath away. Aunt Betty waved me over to the modest-sized
swimming pool, where she was sitting and reading a novel. She had lost
considerable weight, but her short white terry-cloth robe revealed that she was
phenomenally curvaceous. I could scarcely tear my gaze away from her high, tan
cleavage, slightly sweaty from the sun. She had nice, slender ankles, too,
although her thighs were a bit plump. Aunt Betty jumped right up and, like a
good hostess, showed me around my new home. I tried very hard not to stare at
her spectacular shape or to make excessive eye contact, either. It was really
tough, because Aunt Betty was precisely the physical type I conjured up in my
masturbatory fantasies: a pretty, but not glamorous face, with understated
makeup, and really voluptuous form. I estimate she was about five-five or five-
six tall and maybe 145 pounds, distributed nicely all around. She must have
traded in her thick glasses for contact lenses. Instead of looking like a plain,
dumpy woman who had shed a few pounds, she gave me the impression of a stroke
magazine centerfold who had gotten pleasingly plump. As the first weeks of the
semester passed, I got into a routine of classes, labs, study in the library
until about 9, then a brisk walk home. I was too tired to think about dating and
girls. I noticed, too, that my aunt would also come home late from her office
job, rush through a salad-bar salad and quickly turn in, quite fatigued. I
gathered from our few conversations that the small manufacturing business she
was in was understaffed hence the long hours, and the lack of energy for a
social life. As the weeks wore on, our respective workloads got slightly
heavier, not lighter, and we rarely ventured beyond the confines of her house.
Although our schedules did not allow us to take meals together, we started
watching the tv news together at the end of the day. Aunt Betty always wore loose-
fitting, modest clothing, but some times she sat close enough so that our thighs
touched with quite a bit of pressure, which alone was enough to give me a semi-
erection. At other times, without making any suggestive remarks or looks, she
leaned her head on my shoulders, as if she were nodding off from fatigue.
Sometimes I suspected she was not really sleeping on such occasions, but was
enjoying the closeness. Week by week I was getting hornier and hornier, and I
suspected that Aunt Betty also was getting aroused by having me in close
proximity. Although we spoke freely on any number of subjects, I naturally
hesitated to ask her about her love life after widowhood. Finally, around mid-
October, things began to heat up. "Oh, Brad, would be a dear and help me so I
don't fall off the step stool?" She was rearranging some crockery on a high
shelf in the kitchen. Her cotton skirt was very short, and her loose-fitting top
didn't quite reach to the waist of the skirt, so I could see a nice expanse of
soft creamy flesh around her middle. It seemed logical to support her at the
waist, so I got to touch her bare skin, which thrilled me intensely. "A little
tighter, Brad, I'd hate to have a fall." "With pleasure, Aunt Betty" I said, as
I gave her waist a gentle squeeze.Since she didn't seem to be in any hurry to
complete her chore, I held her bare waist and leisurely admired her full, curved
thighs. Not long after that episode, out of the blue, she remarked, "I've been
noticing that you look at me...a bit...longingly, Brad. Is that possible, or is
it my imagination?" I knew enough even then not to refer to my own loneliness
and extreme horniness, so I replied: "It's just that you're a hell of an
attractive woman, Aunt Betty." "I hope I'm not sounding too forward." "Brad, I
promised your Dad I'd look after you, but I'm sure he didn't mean that way." She
laughed, a deep, throaty, sexy laugh. From then on she would favor me with
glimpses of her lush curves, but they were glimpses only, which inflamed my
interest in her to an incestuous obsession. Finally, she broke the ice, and in
response to one of my longing looks, put a hand on my shoulder, and asked, "You
do find me attractive, don't you?...as a woman...really, now, Brad." "Aunt
Betty, if only you knew how much you affect me, there wouldn't be any doubt in
your mind at all." "How do I affect you, Brad," she asked, her hand still on my
shoulder. "I know it isn't what's supposed to happen, but being close to you
arouses me powerfully...there, I've said it. It had to be said." At this, I
covered her hand with my own and dared to give it a little squeeze. My heart was
racing. "We musn't touch-ever," she said, as she withdrew her hand from mine.
"But, Lord help me, I need to feel attractive again....you'd really like to see
my naked body wouldn't you ,Brad? Even though it would make your father very
angry?"I think she mentioned my father because she wanted to emphasize the
incestuous aspect of our situation. To her I think it added a definite extra
measure of spice. With her shape, I would have died for her had she been a
perfect stranger. "Yes I really, really would, Aunt Betty." "If you're a good
boy, Brad, and show me an "A" exam paper, I might just let you have a look, but
only under certain conditions." "Any conditions you say, Aunt Betty!" I could
barely get the words out, my mouth was suddenly so dry. Needless to say I
buckled down even harder on my courses. In those days, in competitive colleges,
the profs didn't hand out A's just for showing up for all the classes. And in
the engineering courses I took that year, a B-plus was considered a really
desirable grade. When I got a solid "A"in a tough American History mid-term, I
was thrilled beyond belief, for more reasons than one! On the way home, I spent
the last of my weekly cash on half a dozen roses for my aunt, to underline my
devotion and affection. I tidied up the kitchen extra well, and left the
precious "A" exam booklet on the corner of the table, with the flowers. I was
half aroused for what seemed like hours. "Oh you're a dear, Brad, I love roses"
said Aunt Betty effusively. "And I promised your Dad I'd make sure you buckled
down to study hard, so now I can tell him you're getting an "A" in History. She
made no mention of her promise to me, and I was naturally hesitant to push her.
She made no further mention of the exam grade, sat well apart from me while
watching the tv news. I was crushed and highly strung out with sexual tension.
When she headed for her room I gathered up all my courage and somehow mentioned
that I had had a "special reason" to show her the "A" paper. "Oh, Brad, dear,
can you ever forgive me, I'm just so tired tonight, I just can't do justice to
your History "A" and those lovely roses! But tomorrow, I promise to make it up
to you. Will you think about me tonight and tomorrow?" "Aunt Betty, you know I
won't think of anything else!" The next night was Saturday night. True to my
parting word to Aunt Betty, I could think of nothing all day but her promise.
And her bod. To keep a semblance of sanity, I walked for two hours along the
bland, palm-shaded streets of the nondescript California suburb. Saturday,
night, bedtime. Betty wearing her usual loose printed dress for the late news.
Her hair freshly brushed, a new perfume, a bit deeper lipstick shade than usual.
In accordance with Aunt Betty's explicit instructions, I stood in the
passageway, five feet from her bedroom door, which on this special night was
wide open. With the electric lights out, she set a lighted candle down on her
bedside table and stood facing me so the candlelight shone from her left side. I
was not to utter a sound, nor touch myself 'down there'. She slowly unbuttoned
her dress from top to bottom, and let it drop to the floor. Tonight she had
omitted wearing a bra, so I could see everything not covered by her low-cut
satiny white briefs. Aunt Betty's thighs glistened full, smooth and beautifully
curved. Her belly, partly encased by the panties, was also somewhat full, but
completely smooth, with a deep navel. Her Earth-Mother bosom covered almost all
of the front of her ribcage. The deep shadows cast by the lone candle
accentuated her incredibly lush curves, exciting me beyond endurance. Still, it
was too dark to discern many details, so even afterwards, her body retained an
aura of mystery. After standing still as a statue for a minute or so, she
gracefully turned to face directly away from me, toward a mirror over the
dresser. And as she brushed her hair, her bent, raised arms allowed me to see
the side curves of both breasts at the same time, an astonishing sight. Then she
turned to the side and blew out the candle. I could hear the faint rustle as she
slipped under the covers. I felt as if steam from my superheated blood would
blow out of my ears from the excitement, from the two or three minutes of
forbidden intimacy. No way I could have fallen asleep after that, except by
masturbating to the candle-lit images I had just witnessed.
**********
Sunday morning, I awakened with a hard-on which would not go away. I forced
myself out of bed, shaved and then walked almost two miles to get Aunt Betty's
favorite newspaper. She made me leave the paper outside her bedroom door, now
closed. We shared breakfast, but she seemed slightly distant and made no mention
of the incredible events of the night before... Imagine this if you will. The
living room is in nearly total darkness, the house is silent in the wee hours.
My aunt had rushed to the tv set fresh from her bath around eleven and helped me
to finish a half-bottle of Italian red we fell asleep on the living room sofa.
She is sleeping-I think- nearly upright, the bottom two-thirds of her robe
completely open! My face is buried against her shoulder, somehow my bare arm is
resting on her lap, hand curled around her soft flank, the middle of my forearm
in contact with-could it be actually-her pubic bush! I dare not even breath
aloud for fear of startling her out of her sleep. I know that if she awakes, she
will break off this forbidden contact. The thought of touching the gateway to
her intimate parts excites me to the very core and I start to shake with
tension. Although it is too dark to see, I try to imagine Aunt Betty in my minds
eye totally naked from the waist down, as she is in fact. My erection threatens
to burst the fabric of my pyjamas. I cannot tear myself away although nothing
can come of this, tonight at any rate. Her regular breathing tells me she is
truly asleep, her falling asleep with the robe open an accident. After what
seems like two hours I gradually draw away from contact, close her robe and
cover her with a blanket from her bedroom. My balls ache from the prolonged
congestion, it's almost impossible to sleep without stroking my member but
somehow I muster the self-discipline to hold off, in anticipation of a
breakthrough in the next few days. That was on the Saturday night of a three-day
weekend. What happened the very next night was ten times as exciting. "Brad,
dear, I think it's time we had a little talk could you get us a couple of beers
from the fridge?" "Sure, Aunt Betty." We settled down on the living room sofa.
After downing half the can, she took my hand and placed it firmly on her mid-
thigh, holding it there for emphasis. Were things going to get steamy at last?
"Look, Brad, it's time for a little honesty and openness around here. I'll just
bet you've been wondering about my love life-or lack of it." Here I nodded
assent. "I had two brief flings about four-five months after your Uncle Woody
passed on, with guys who sell stuff to my company, but frankly they treated me
like dirt. And for me that's worse than being lonely-or horny. I'm just not
about to go looking around for a man now or probably any time soon...but I have
needs...I was thinking you and I...oh, hell! Get me another beer, will you?"
"Anything for my favorite aunt!" was my attempt to be lighthearted, but I was
getting all of a sudden very tense as I sensed the direction we were headed for.
"Brad, I remember every flattering thing you ever said about me, and all those
looks you've been giving me...and I don't think you'd ever treat me like dirt."
"Of course not, Aunt Betty." I placed my hand back on her thigh, but higher up.
She responded by covering my hand with her own. "A nice-looking broad-shouldered
young fella like you, not going out with girls, I couldn't help
wondering...hoping, you know...that had something to do with your feelings about
me." At this I almost was tempted to answer by taking her in my arms and kissing
her, but I was still a little shy. Instead I meekly nodded, avoiding eye
contact. "The time is ripe for us to see how we respond to each other, as equal
adults, Brad. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Brad." "Oh God, yes, YES!" "It has
to done just right, making sure that neither one of us is disappointed, and that
it's what we both truly are ready for." "Uh, what are you driving at, Aunt
Betty?" "I mean, Brad, that I'm sure you masturbate, if you're like all other
young men, and that it's got to stop right now, so you can give ME your all. And
I'll stop, too, as of this moment."I tried not to look shocked, but this was
back in the 1960s, when we didn't talk much about masturbation and boys were
totally ignorant on the subject of female masturbation. ******The air was warm
for November, even for a Southern California autumn. A thin crescent moon hung
in the night sky. As instructed by Betty, I heated up her small pool and hung a
bunch of towels on a lattice-work fence to secure our privacy from the eyes of
neighbors. I got into the pool and faced away from the house. Aunt Betty liked
to give surprises. After a few agonizingly slow minutes, I heard her slip into
the water behind me. With pent-up passion she hugged me from the back, rubbing
and then pinching my nipples. No high-school girlfriend had ever done anything
like that! She nuzzled my neck and shoulder, and then squeezed my nipples 'til
they hurt. As previously instructed I stood still and straight. "Now, Brad, turn
around and look at me." She was wearing a one-piece swimsuit which concealed
only the lower 60% of her full bosom. I gasped at her awesome cleavage somehow
the effect was all the greater as I had to strain my eyesight to the utmost in
the scanty moonlight. "Now let's move to the deeper part of the pool, I want to
show you something." I willingly obeyed. "How long can you hold your breath
under water, Brad?" "Don't know, Aunt Betty." Not even at a moment like this was
I permitted to call her simply by her first name. "You'd like me to drop the top
of my swimsuit, wouldn't you, you sweet boy?" I nodded vigorously. "Well, you
can see my breasts as long as you can hold your breath under
water...starting...now!"I took two or three deep breaths and dropped under the
surface. There, not two feet away was a sight to behold. No doubt Aunt Betty was
a natural DD-cupper, and although her boobs probably sagged quite a bit under
their weight in air, under water they seemed to float and sway, weightless yet
undeniably massive in their shadowed roundness. She placed her hands on her
hips, arched her back and twisted back and forth to accentuate the wonderful
jiggling motions. I tried to memorize the sight of those great round masses of
tit-flesh until my eyes stung fiercely from the pool chemicals. I passionately
wanted to hold Aunt Betty's breasts and suck on them, and would have died
happily for one minute of such unimagined pleasure. What did happen is that, my
lungs bursting, I surfaced, and mumbled, between gasps of air: "Incredible, Aunt
Betty...you are just so sexy and beautiful...I just...have never seen anything
like that...anywhere(what I meant was, in stroke magazines) "Oh you dear, lovely
boy, give us a kiss," she said, as she bent forward, tilted her head toward me
and kissed me deeply, so our teeth ground together for an instant. "Now I'm
sure, dear Brad, of my feelings, but tonight is not the right night...don't
ask...turn around right now, Brad."As ever I obeyed her instantly, shaking with
passion and disappointment at the same time. I heard her climb out of the pool
and disappear behind me into the house. I lay down on the poolside lounger in
confusion until the air turned colder and caused a shivering fit. Back in the
house, Aunt Betty's bedroom door was closed. The house was silent. I felt almost
sure she was as drawn to me as I to her, and that we would soon consummate our
incest, but maybe she enjoyed teasing me...maybe it would never happen. With the
greatest difficulty, I remembered my promise to avoid masturbation completely. I
read myself to sleep with a materials science textbook.
End
Real INCEST : http://www.incesttabooo.com/