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Subject: [inc] story: "Aunt Peg" {FFm, inc} 684050
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Date: Tue, 21 Apr 2009 22:35:46 +0000
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http://www.incesttabooo.com/theincest.html
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?"
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