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Subject: story: "AUNT BETTY"(1/3) {mF, inc} 726683
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Date: Thu, 04 Jun 2009 15:40:32 +0000
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http://www.incesttabooo.com/theincest.html
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 fatherÍs 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.
Dark family relations: http://www.incesttabooo.com/theincest.html