Holidays with Auntie Joan Part 1
- 4 years ago
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Holidays With "Auntie" Joan - Part 4 free porn video
My final undergrad year at university was proceeding as successfully as before, but my private life was undergoing change.
Firstly, I had become very concerned about the possibility that I had contracted HIV/AIDS during the LGBTQI party at the Both Ways Lounge. My memory of that evening was confused, but I was certainly aware that I had experienced multiple episodes of unprotected sex that night. Exactly how many cocks I had sucked dry, I was unsure of. How many cocks I had encouraged to fuck me, was also vague. I did realise that I had lost any self-control I should have had, and that I was completely devoid of any embarrassment or modesty. In the state I was in, I was available for anyone to take advantage of. No indignity had been off the table. No doubt, June had witnessed everything, and it was entirely possible that details had gotten back to Joan. As my worries of infection became intolerable, I decided to take an anonymous HIV test, and luckily enough, the results were negative. But the fear of how June, and especially Joan, would regard my behaviour that night, continued to weigh heavily on my mind.
Secondly, I became aware that I had become obsessed with June. I was only just twenty-one, and she was probably older than my mother. More importantly, it was the degree to which she dominated me sexually, that occupied my day-dreams. She had managed my blossoming exhibitionism to the stage that I was not only comfortable with, but totally exhilarated by, public nakedness in any forum. Moreover, night after night, without any discussion, she had treated my completely compliant penis, to explosive orgasm, and my submissive anus, to almost boundless exploration. She had never indicated any emotion, any desire to progress to any further sexual activity, or any interest in what I might be thinking, other than the knowledge that my body certainly enjoyed the experience. I fantasised daily, about picking up where we had left off, but not even daring to imagine any further advance.
Thirdly, I lost interest in the girlfriend, who I had once adored, very early on her return to Sydney. I guess the relationship had become to seem so infantile. As she became aware of my lack of enthusiasm, she called our relationship off, much to my relief. I lacked the courage to do it myself.
Lastly, I began to assess my "homosexuality" as objectively as I could manage. It was obvious to me, that I was often attracted to certain young women, enjoyed their company, admired their beauty, and hoped that they might find me attractive. I dated regularly, had sex occasionally, and never doubted that, some day in the future, I would marry one, and have children. I never once enjoyed similar feelings with young men, apart from the usual, somewhat shallow, mateship all guys have. Yet why had I engaged in such uncontrollable lust on several occasions, when the opportunity came my way? I put it down to raw promiscuity, believing that it would pass as I matured. At this stage of my development, I did find the pure physicality of sex with boys, more rewarding than with girls.
I drove up to M on the first Saturday of my vacation, in my used Toyota, which, thankfully, was still up to the task, and went straight to Joan's shack. I was very keen to see her again, but somewhat apprehensive about how much my "Auntie" knew of my last visit, the homosexual fuckfest, and June's handjobs. Everything? We did not get straight to these points. We covered my university progress, my mother's wellbeing, my girlfriend, Classical music, Jazz, her art, the state of Australian politics (we had already begun our regular churn of Prime Ministers), sport in general, before finally addressing the issue of my behaviour last visit. I had known Joan as long as I could remember. I loved her dearly. I admired her eccentricity. I always felt open with her, because she treated me with love and respect. And so, the details emerged naturally, without admonition. June had really spilt the beans. Nothing had been spared.
To sum up, Joan took the position that, like all young people finding their way, I was entitled to experiment. I knew she was not happy about some details, not necessarily because she found them distasteful, but because she knew how my mother would feel about them. And for this, she felt she should accept some of the blame. She was particularly concerned that no protection was used at the LGBTQI party, and that such irresponsibility should not be repeated. She was pleased that I had sought HIV testing, and had been lucky, this time. So what about June?
Joan talked about the movie, "Mrs. Robinson". She advised me not to become infatuated, as June had no other intention but to use me, to satisfy her own somewhat irregular desires. If I found this of interest, then let things proceed. Who knows where it would lead? But be aware!
The Both Ways Lounge had become something of a regional success story. Tourists from the two nearby coastal resorts had "discovered" the libertarian agenda nearby, and the fact that there was now a liquor license. The mornings were still devoted to coffees, mostly for the local women, entertained by a couple of local lads, in little or no attire, in the role that I had pioneered. The opportunity for me to be involved was therefore limited, and probably unaffordable. The evenings were a different matter. June had experimented with a variety of risque "theme" nights, for adults only, and I might fit in there somewhere. She wanted to discuss these prospects with me.
Joan still wanted me to pose for more paintings and drawings. They were still selling well, but she no longer wanted to accept commissions. She had found last year's effort too burdensome. People were now requesting the themes to be more blatantly R-rated, and she would like to go down this path, if I was willing. "Just try and stop me!"
So we discussed a variety of poses that would be considered raunchy, before going to bed.
The next morning I attended the garden, and the animals, as I had done every year, naked of course. I walked to the nearby beach, discovering that even more people were using it, taking advantage of its relative inaccessibility, to dispense with clothes. By late morning, I estimated more than thirty people, of various shapes, sizes, ages and sexes, all enjoying "life in the raw". Some were playing with frisbees, others engaged in a rudimentary beach volleyball game. I was impressed with how natural it all appeared. In the afternoon we relaxed, discussed a whole range of topics, and listened to Joan's beautiful music, including her own piano playing. During this time June called me on my mobile, welcoming me back, and inviting me to dinner. As evening fell, I drove out to June's Both Ways Lounge, after ensuring my anus was scrupulously clean, in case it would come into use sometime later.
June appeared as she always did - a well-preserved, middle-aged woman. Little or no make-up, conservatively dressed, some greying of the hair, no facial lines as yet, not really pretty, but definitely attractive. A MILF? Possibly. Almost immediately I felt I was her attendant, butler, possible slave. She radiated superiority. Or was this just the image my fantasies had created for me? We chatted briefly, not as close friends, but as reasonable acquaintances. Then straight to the point!
"I've been through things with Joan. She's not happy, but is prepared for you to have your head. I don't think I can keep my hands off you. I don't even think I want to fuck you, but I want to enjoy and use you, in ways you will probably enjoy yourself." Her words were calm, authoritative, transactional. "I know, and you know, that you are an exhibitionist, with a tendency towards promiscuity, if encouraged. I want to take advantage of these desires, and in so doing, allow you to discover your own potential. What do you say?"
I was lost for words. I think I got something out, like "yeah, right".
"Show me that beautiful body," she commanded.
I was out of my clothes, within seconds, displaying a stiffening cock, that had waited so long to have this opportunity again.
"Gorgeous, the virility of youth. Come closer, and let me feast on this vision that most women around here want to share again." After a minute or two of studying my front completely, including my eyes, and the dripping eye of my cock, she took it in her hand, using it to turn me around.
"I don't know what excites me the most. Your sweet, pretty cock, or your delicious bottom, with its delightful little hole. Bend over for me," she ordered.
How embarrassed I was. How could I be so submissive, compliant, abandoned, as to display my most private of parts, for intimate inspection?
"I can see why the boys wanted to take possession of this," she whispered, as she gave my hole a gentle finger of approval. "Up on the table, there's a little work I want to do on you."
For what seemed like ages, she diligently and methodically, removed all hair from my body, except for my head. I had none on my chest or back anyway. But my forearms, and the legs below my knees, were covered with curly, blond hairs, which were soon deforested with a dilapidator. My armpits were shaved naked. Most carefully, she shaved off my pubic area, and used tweezers, to defoliate my cock and balls. Not an awful lot of work here, either. Nor was much work needed around my bottom, and its little treasure.
"Stand up, and let me see if I have finished," she demanded. When finished, she applied soothing cream to her hands, and rubbed them softly around the areas where she had been busy.
"Good boy," she enthused. "I think you've deserved this." Pulling me by the cock, to stand between her sitting legs, she began to entertain my stiff, dripping penis, while reaching back with the other hand, to enter my waiting hole. It seemed to have narrowed, from lack of use since the previous year, but still entertained the intruding finger, as it worked its way quietly, in and out.
Eventually, she allowed me to collapse into her arms, whimpering, sighing, and entirely drained, and exhausted. I was definitely dazed, and did not notice the cum-soaked fingers, until they pressed lightly upon my lips.
"Just a little something before dinner," she laughed. Obediently, I swallowed, and took the second and third helpings, just as voraciously. Had I not swallowed copious quantities of sperm the year before, with June watching, I would probably have been revolted. But I accepted the offerings, almost reflexively, and rediscovered that the taste, while salty, was not entirely objectionable. More importantly, I was aware of the depravity of this activity, and this fact alone elevated the experience to the very top tier.
"I'm your whore," were the only words I could think of. I think I said them. At the same time as feeling totally at her command, I was already aware, that she was only doing what I had been yearning for, and fantasising about, for nearly a year. Yes, she was using me to get what she wanted (as Joan had warned me), but was I not using Jan's attraction to my physicality, to get from her, what I wanted?
Over dinner, June quizzed me relentlessly about my attitude to a wide variety of potential sexual activities and fetishes. She began with the night she had watched me fellate anyone who offered his cock to my mouth.
"Have you done that often?" she asked.
"Not really. Just a couple of times, never in public. I'd like to do it more often, and I guess I've had plenty of opportunities, but I am usually more selective. I guess I was just out of control that night."
"How did it compare with sucking a girl's pussy?" she asked.
"I've never done that," I admitted.
"Did you enjoy being fucked?" June inquired.
"Did it look as though I hated it," I replied, a little sarcastically. "It just felt so great to let myself go like that."
"I never saw you fuck one of the boys," she stated. "Does that mean anything?"
It took a little time for me to consider a reply. "For a start, no-one asked me to. I don't suppose I'd have said no, considering the state I was in, but it's not something I aspire to."
"You do like sex with girls?" she asked, looking a little unsure of my potential reply.
"Of course, but it's entirely different. With girls, there are feelings, romance, sensitivity, involved. The whole package is superior. But I cannot be so dispassionate, and abandoned, with girls. I want to see them again. I want to ensure they experience pleasure, but with a guy, who cares, and they don't seem to hold back anyway."
"What other sexual activities do you enjoy?" she asked.
"I haven't had much. Kissing. I'd never do that with boys. Fondling and sucking tits. Boys don't have them. A couple of hand jobs. Boys are good at that. You're by far the best at that though," I laughed.
"Would you believe that I got as much pleasure, taking you to heaven, as you got getting there? I want to open you up to new delights, if you let me. Personally, I love sex, in all its manifestations, and I have a feeling that you might be of similar mind. What do you think?" What a question to put to a twenty-one year old horny boy!
"Where do we start?" Corny, but what else could I say?
"Come Wednesday, about six in the evening. Leave all your clothes in the car. Clean yourself completely, and get rid of any hair I missed. You have three days to build up your expectations. I expect you to be at the peak of your desires."
I tried to give Joan my full attention in those intervening days. We talked, but never mentioning June. I spent time in the garden, and with her goat, hens and dog. She played piano, we listened to Shostakovich, Mahler, Chopin, Beethoven, Brahms, classic jazz and blues, and we played chess. Those days I remember well, because they were the last we spent together, in her country shack. On Wednesday morning she had a call from a hospital in Sydney. Her husband had suffered a heart attack. Distraught, unable to even think about anything else, she was on her way back to Sydney immediately, leaving me to look after things, and at the unfettered mercy of June. I have ever since been ashamed, that those days were somewhat obscured, by the anticipation of what was waiting for me on Wednesday. And that thoughts of Joan, and the condition of her husband, were not the main things on my mind, for the days and weeks that followed.
When I arrived at June's, as instructed, it did not take me long for my mind, and the rest of me, to be occupied elsewhere. Whether or not she knew of Joan's situation, she did not mention it, and I was so greedy for what might follow, I did not bring it up either.
"Come here," she beckoned, sitting on a stool, in the centre of the room. "Let's see how you like this. Most men do. Lie across my knees. Good boy." She reached between my legs, pulling my balls and mostly erect cock, back as far as she could manage, so that she could see them peering out from under my bottom. She held up a mirror to show me how they looked.
I was overcome with a mixture of humiliation, excitement, vulnerability and compliance. She began to spank me, softly at first, occasionally asking me if I wanted her to either stop, or increase the power. When I replied that I wanted her to proceed, she said she did not hear me. I begged. At each stroke I felt brief pain, followed by deep pleasure. Now and then, she used the mirror to show the effect her efforts were having on the colour of my bottom, and this made me even more demanding. From time to time, she lightly stroked my bottom, so as to soothe its hotness.
"More?" she would ask.
"Yes, yes, beat me. I love it!"
"My hand is sore. Do you mind if I use this? I promise not to hurt you --- too much." She held out a kid's paddle, one that might be used for a ball game. Without waiting for an answer, she used it to maximise the noise it made, as it fell upon the fleshiest part of my bottom.
"That's enough for now. Let's keep some for later," and ignoring my protestations, began to spread soothing cream around my bottom, now nearly purple from painful pleasure. After a few minutes, she began to lubricate my hole with more and more cream, inserting a finger, then two, to spread plenty inside.
"Have you ever seen one of these?" she asked, holding out a pink implement about six inches long, and consisting of three balls, small at one end, then bigger and bigger, with a flattish bar at the base. "Let's see how you like this."
I felt the first ball secure an opening, and find its home, as my anus seemed to close the door behind it. The second now entered, with only a little more effort. Again, I felt my hole contract to secure the second ball inside, before the third ball began to work its way in. The process was temporarily interrupted by a hold-up at the narrow end, before being allowed to proceed. My hole closed behind the third, and last, ball.
"Stand up now," she commanded. Inside, I had the feeling of having eaten too much. Pleasant, but unusual. Without notice, I began to feel a delightful vibration inside, followed by some movement back, forward and around. June was controlling the probe with something in her hand. She put the probe through a series of manoeuvres, as I began to squirm with delight. She could control the momentum of the probe, and as she increased the power, I began to have difficulty standing. Eventually, I realised how loud I was moaning. Tears came to my eyes, and I collapsed against her, a stream of semen flooding on to her lap.
"You naughty boy. Clean that up." She pushed my head down into her lap, and I obediently used my tongue to remove and swallow the cum from her dress.
June grabbed a handful of my hair, pulled my head up so that our eyes were very close, before her lips met mine, and helped themselves to the semen dripping from my lips. I collapsed again.
"Get yourself a shower, I have guests coming at eight. I want to show them how far you've come," she commanded. "Did I say cum?" she laughed.
When the doorbell rang, I answered it, still naked, and escorted the guests to the Lounge. There were three ladies, and one guy, all middle-aged, who immediately commented on the colour still highlighting my arse.
The questioning from Sunday night was repeated, with considerably more detail. June's guests joined the inquisition. Embarrassment soon gave way to bravado, as I delighted in plumbing the depths of my depravity.
After some light eats, and a little drink, the events from earlier in the evening were repeated. Nothing was left out. The audience heightened my abandonment. I felt no shame, no regrets. "Let them see how much I am under June's spell, how much I enjoy it, how little self-control I possess." One way or another, these thoughts were translated into action. And my audience loved every moment!
I slept in a spare bed at June's that night. In the morning she entered the room, still dressed in an opaque nightie, pulled back my bedclothes, took my cock in her hands, then into her mouth, quickly bringing it to full erection. Then, still without a word, she mounted the bed, kneeled over me, and lowered herself on to my cock. There was no resistance. She must have been already well lubricated, naturally or otherwise. She took absolute control, easing off when it appeared I might explode, then working me inside her to her satisfaction. When she could no longer control my ejaculation, she allowed its completion, before continuing to satisfy herself, until I exploded again. Again she continued, until I shuddered with another climax, but this time without actual liquid.
She then rose as my semen fell from her, mostly over my lower stomach, got off the bed, and turned to me, with a broad smile, as she said "I've got work to do. Piss off. I'll see you again Saturday, same time. I have something new in mind for you then."
And she was gone. I lay there for quite some time, a little stunned. The cum had dried, so I got up, went out to my car, drove back to the shack, and went about my chores, waiting for Saturday to come around. I wore the cum, as a badge of honour, until it came off in the surf, later that afternoon.
On Saturday early evening, she was dressed in elegant gym gear. Tight leotards, and a top, that presented her body beautifully. She fucked me with a strap-on. Not one of the boys who had fucked me had done so with such vigor or aggression. She even demanded to know whether I preferred a real cock, or an artificial one controlled by her, pounding inside me. In reality, I think I would have settled for the real one, particularly one that ejaculated. Also, where a younger woman was concerned, I would have certainly preferred to be doing the fucking. But I lied, and this made her happy. However, there is no doubt that I did find this new experience terribly exciting, particularly when she repeated the performance later, with a small audience similar to Wednesday evening's.
This is how the next few weeks passed. Sessions Wednesday or Thursday evenings, then Saturdays, when she introduced me to new experiences, firstly in private, later with a small group of spectators. Nothing in the days between. I never slept at her place again, and I never penetrated her again. One evening I was introduced to "watersports", but blindfolded. I was peed on, and into my mouth, by June, and others, none of whom I saw. It was a novel experience, but one that I do not need to repeat. Although with someone like June, I could be convinced.
She taught me the joys of cunnilingus, blindfolded again. Apparently, June, and her lady friends, retained a certain modesty when it involved close visual inspection of their most private parts. I was allowed no such modesty, much to my delight. I took pleasure from the fact that the ladies seemed to enjoy, both the experience itself, and the fact that they were teaching a young buck, the intricacies of technique. For my part, I would have preferred to pleasure cocks. (Not that I retain this attitude nowadays).
The very best nights were when I mingled naked among a larger group of women, with June controlling the vibrator remotely via blue tooth (so I was told). It was a lot of fun, for all concerned. In the last week she acquired a butt-plug that was attached to a cock ring, both of which were controlled from a nearby handset. June would discreetly pass the controller around, for others to operate. Having my sexual gratification controlled by someone unknown and unseen, in full view of delighted onlookers, was probably the most exciting experience of these holidays.
On my final night, June invited three gay boys to join us. They were each a little younger than me, but were able to certify their appropriate ages via driving licenses. We used condoms, although I could have easily been persuaded not to. June, in her gym clothes and a mask, joined in from time to time, armed with a strap-on. There was no audience, even though I would have welcomed one; the other boys were too shy. My promiscuity knew no bounds that night. The boys had delicious cocks, each of which I begged to fuck me. We fucked in groups, sometimes supervised by June. We formed a daisy-chain, with me in the front accommodating the cock of one boy, who accommodated the next one, and so on, until June filled the final hole. Why did we do this? Because we could, it was a game, it was absolute freedom to do as we pleased. We took turns being the "Johnny in the middle", one cock in the mouth, one in the arse, and one in a hand.
There were no emotional goodbyes. I never saw June again, and have never returned to M. I returned home early the next day.
This finishes my stories of "Holidays with 'Auntie' Joan". Joan sold her shack, and lives nearby in Sydney with her husband, who remains very unwell. I see them both often. My mother has renewed her close ties with Joan. Our secrets remain our secrets. We are now three years on. I have a very good job, a loving new bride, and a child on the way.
The writing of these stories has been cathartic. It has allowed me to understand myself better. I am not proud of my behaviour during these holidays, but nor am I ashamed. I was young, away from the constrictions of home, loosely supervised by a loving, artistic and bohemian "aunt", and somewhat at the mercy of a hedonistic older woman. I loved every minute of it. But today I am more mature. I am motivated by different things, other pursuits. There is no need to explore sexual promiscuity any more, because I have tried most of it, and retain that which my partner and I, both enjoy. I still retain a degree of exhibitionism. I cannot understand why society demands that we keep so many natural human instincts under wraps. Boys continue to solicit me, less frequently with time, and I admit I am sometimes tempted. I am on a sexual continuum, mostly hetero, a little homo, but manageable.
And what would life be like without a little temptation anyway?
I've just heard of a vibrator/cock-ring controlled wirelessly by an app on a smartphone. Now there's something to aspire to!
Vicky
- 07.07.2022
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- Category:
- Exhibitionism
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