Aunt Anne and Her Friends Ch 09
- 4 years ago
- 56
- 0
Aunt Anne And Her Friends Ch. 06 free porn video
All characters over 18 years old
_________________________
I awoke to the sound of a muffled alarm clock. I opened my eyes. Still wrapped in a sheet on a sofa across the room, Lucy fumbled for the clock, which was under a cushion, and turned it off. Aunt Anne slid gently away from beside me and stood up. It was summer (though not a very warm one) and enough soft light filtered through the curtains for me to be able to see her naked body clearly.
I'm guessing that most blokes wake up in the morning with an erection, or at least half-hard; I say I'm guessing, as I don't make a habit of discussing the subject. Anyway, I had awoken half-hard and now I was stiffening further as my aunt stood naked by the sofa-bed to face me.
I ran my hungry gaze over her. She was tall and slim. Her dark-blond hair was dishevelled. Her eyes and mouth were smiling coyly. My eyes roamed to her neck then to her small, high-mounted breasts. I gazed upon her puffy nipples, then my eyes swept over her midriff and down to her butterfly tattoo and to her pussy, shaved smooth except for a narrow landing strip above her hood. Her hair was pale and cropped to stubble. With a twinge of shame -- though not remorse -- I recalled our earlier passion, watched by Lucy, as I entered my own aunt and came inside her.
Aunt Anne stooped over me to kiss me. Her bare little breasts dipped forward a little, and my hands rose to caress them, but she pulled away and laughed quietly.
"Not now, love. I need to creep upstairs. We don't want anyone to come downstairs and find us in bed together, do we?" she murmured as she picked up her discarded nightdress from the floor. I reached out and stroked it, relishing the cool slinky feel of it.
I reached for my watch. It was only five-thirty in the morning. Lucy was lying on her side watching us. Her dark hair was untidy. The bed sheet was d****d across her chest but she shuffled -- probably deliberately -- and it slipped to bare her uppermost breast, modest but a bigger then Aunt Anne's, and adorned with a gold ring through her nipple. Her blues eyes seemed to pierce me. I glanced at her narrow lips and recalled how they had closed around my manhood as she licked me clean after my orgasm.
But my gaze returned quickly to my aunt. It had only been a few days since my lust for her had been kindled by the sight of her in that very nightdress. But now as I lay gazing at her it was with the dreadful consciousness that my desire for her had now been consummated. She stood half-facing me, and I watched her raise her hands, and gazed at her long arms and shaved armpits as the ivory nightdress slid down her and over her head.
It slid sensually lower, veiling her from my sight beginning with her little breasts, then rapidly covering down to her tattoo and nearly hairless pussy, and finally to the calves of her well toned legs.
Whilst I wouldn't describe it as strongly as a fetish, I do love satin or silk on a woman. And right then the sight of Aunt Anne slipping on her nightdress in the soft, early morning light that the curtains filtered was utterly captivating.
Her nightdress shimmered in the light, and patches of light and shadow ebbed and flowed on it as she moved. Her nightdress didn't cling to her, but it did fit closely enough to show the contours of her body. The bust was trimmed with fine ivory mesh, and the shape of her little breasts was clear under it. Although her nipples were puffy, the whole nipple from the areola to the tip forming a pink cone rather than the nub of it rising from the areola, they pressed against the shiny fabric. The satin was a brilliant, highlighted white where they did so. Under her breasts the fabric was subtly shadowed, the slightness of the shadow emphasising the smallness of her breasts. Her cleft was very shallow.
The back of the nightdress was cut to just below her shoulder blades and two narrow, bra-type straps with a little buckle and ring held it in place. The pretty lace trim at the bust fell in a sharp diagonal line to form a deep V of mesh at the back down to her waist. Little random swirls adorned the mesh.
The nightdress hung deliciously over her backside, the cut and the highlights and shadows of the shiny satin half-showing, half-suggesting its size and curves.
I looked into her face. She held my gaze, and I blushed, feeling ashamed to be eyeing her up so close and with such intensity. She blushed, too, but smiled. She stooped over me to kiss me again. Her neckline puckered forward. I stared inside at her breasts and nipples, entirely visible. Very briefly I fondled her buttocks through the cool, slippery satin, then, summoning all my will power I withdrew my hands.
"I must be going, James, love," she whispered. She straightened up and headed slowly and stealthily to the door, her ivory nightdress stretching and creasing against her, emphasising her contours and movements with each soft step she took. She closed the door as quietly as she could.
She was gone. I was completely hard. And frustrated. I could just hear her creeping stealthily up the stairs.
It was very disappointing. The sex we had enjoyed in the early hours of the night had been quite brief -- though, admittedly, extremely intense. I would have loved another opportunity right now, slow and unhurried, exploring each other and building up slowly. But I knew she was right. I would have been mortified for the others to know we had spent the night in each other's arms, and to see from the spent condoms that we had enjoyed sex not once but twice.
I looked over at Lucy. She was lying on her side, propping herself on her elbow and staring at me with her piercing blue eyes. She ran her tongue slowly across her lips. She drew back the sheet that was covering her. My heart began to hammer in my chest and I felt my erection tighten to the full, then relax slightly.
It was almost a replication of a few hours ago when she had led me to this room and when my aunt had exposed herself to me. It had been a conspiracy between her and Lucy.
And Lucy was replicating the scene deliberately. She raised, then lowered her dark, plucked eyebrows to give me a knowing look, and smiled saucily at me.
Her neck was slightly lined, and her straight, slightly broad nose seemed to emphasise the paleness of her eyes and the narrowness of her lips. Her breasts sagged slightly but not over-much, and I stared at the piercing through her nipple.
Although she was petite, a few lines creased her stomach below her navel. Her posture led my eye over the curve of her hip to her slender flank. As Aunt Anne had done, Lucy was lying with her legs closed. Her legs were shorter and more slender than my aunt's were. But in the triangle between her inner thighs and her body there was a dense patch of soft-looking hair instead of a pale, narrow landing strip.
Still holding my lustful gaze, Lucy drew her lower lip under her upper one. I knew it was just a mannerism, but it seemed strangely erotic. Then, as Aunt Anne had done, she opened her slender legs and angled the upper one away.
I gave a low gasp as her pouting lips came into view, their pinkness highlighted by the dark hairs above and to each side. She stroked her breasts, which yielded just slightly due to the lightness of her touch, and slid her hand down, over her belly, to her verdant bush.
She ran her long fingers through her dark pubes, and I watched her fine hairs twine around them fingers. She flickered her tongue over her lips and then pressed her fingers on her mound and eased her pussy open.
I stared at the raw pink flesh. She rocked her splayed hand back and forth, causing her pussy to move rudely and enticingly.
"Are you hard?" she asked quietly, so as not to be overheard. Although her voice was low it seemed to shatter the intense silence, and startled me. I nodded.
"Show me!" she urged.
I pulled back the sheet and, without looking down, bared it to her. Her pupils seemed to enlarge at the sight. I readily admit that I am not massively endowed, probably average, but her look was eager. I blushed, unaccustomed to studious study of my nakedness, especially by a married woman who was old enough to be my mother and whose husband was upstairs. I guessed that it was probably my youth and relative inexperience that excited her -- or maybe the fact that she had enticed me into having sex with my aunt before her eyes. My manhood wilted slightly. She licked her lips again.
"I can't believe your aunt left you in that state without doing something to relieve you, you poor love!" she murmured.
Then she stood up. The sight of her modest breasts swaying as she did so revived my hardness. My stomach gave a churn of anticipation, too.
For a few agonising moments she simply facing me from across the room, her pale eyes fixed on mine. She rested one hand on her hip. With the other she stroked and fondled her breasts, teasing her nipples with her fingers, rolling them round with the palm of her hand, and tugging on her nipple piercing. Her orb stretched lewdly out of shape. Her belly was fairly flat, with just a little looseness, and my eyes then latched again on her hairy pussy
She turned slowly round and I gazed at her slender legs and shapely bum cheeks. I blushed with shame at the reminder that the previous evening she had allowed me to penetrate the naughty hole that nestled out of sight between them. Still with her back to me she leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees, and gyrated her hips slowly.
She stood up and faced me again. Her left hand hung by her side. With her right hand she continued to play with her semi-firm breasts. I glanced from her rippling flesh to her wedding ring, and back to her orb again. I thought of her husband Bill, upstairs. I wondered whether he had joined Caroline and Jack, whether he was wondering where his wife, Lucy, was, or whether he was even sleeping obliviously. Whilst I knew that he was fully content to share his wife on occasions such as this, it nevertheless felt very illicit. And the muting of Lucy's voice and mine added to the naughty appeal of it.
With a shudder of delight I watched her step slowly, naked, towards me, still playing with her breasts and her nipple piercing, and still gazing intently at me.
She stood close and, as my aunt had done, stooped to kiss me on the mouth. I was half-hoping for a long sexy smooch such as we had enjoyed several hours earlier, but she broke away.
"I can't believe she left you so excited without helping you out!" she said softly. Again she licked her lips and stared down at my burgeoning erection. I watched passively as she raised her hand to her mouth. She licked her palm and her fingers, and I watched as she lowered her hand to my hardness and wrapped it around me. I felt her give a gentle squeeze, then she began to rock her hand slowly up and down, sliding my taut skin back and forth to bare my purplish, seeping tip. I gasped.
She leaned forward and proffered her breasts to my mouth. I drew her left one into my mouth and sucked on it. She cooed with pleasure and braced herself on the back of the sofa bed that served as the headboard. I caressed her thigh, and she sighed with pleasure. She guided my hand to her hairy minge, and, just as she had done I slid my fingers through the soft, dank hairs.
She held her hand up with her fingers extended and her thumb parted a little form them.
"Hold your hand like this..." she whispered. "Slide your thumb up my cunt and rub my clitty and hood with the edge of your finger..."
Her crudity thrilled me. She leaned forward again and braced herself on the back of the sofa. She was already moist as I eased my thumb into her. I teased her hard nipple with my tongue and gently tugged on her piercing with my teeth.
"Oooh yes, love... you've got a nice touch, James! That's it! Let's have a nasty quickie with our fingers!" she hissed.
Against my finger her slit and hood felt hard and sticky, and as I pushed my thumb in and out of her, my finger effectively frigged her clit at the same time. Her mouth was open and her teeth were bared in a kind of grimace, but a grimace of pleasure, as we played with each other.
My finger made a soft but rude squishing sound and the pumping of her palm on my dribbling knob made a sympathetic sound. I watched her hand making its lewd movements and mt foreskin sliding back and forth, and sucked harder on her breast. I rested my other hand on her backside and kneaded it rhythmically. I nonchalantly slid my hand further round and nestled the edge of my hand into her bum cleft, pressing against her lightly perspiring skin, but I made no attempt to do more than that unbidden.
Her hand clasped me a bitt firmer and her wanking movements increased in vigour and speed. It was certainly going to be a quickie, I thought, as my eyes raced from the movement of my thumb sawing in and out of her hairy pussy then to my finger on her clit, to her slightly flaccid breasts and hardening nipples, to her sweetly contorted face and then to her hand rudely pumping me. I sucked her orb more ardently and drove my thumb and fingers harder. I knew I could not last long. I didn't care.
I paused a little as I felt my balls tighten. I groaned and then thrust myself into her clasping palm. My cum spurted a little and oozed down her still-pumping hand. I gasped, still thrusting until I was spent. I wished I had more to give her, but this was my fourth ejaculation in less than twelve hours.
Lucy was grinding her pussy against my hand and I resumed, concentrating now on reciprocating the blissful relief that she had given me. I squeezed her bum cheek as I drove my thumb deeper into her and rubbed her clit harder with my fingers with each stroke. She braced herself more fully and began to gasp and to shake. I withdrew my face from her B-cup breasts and treated myself to the spectacle of them bouncing and swaying deliciously above my face in her ecstasy. She brought her legs together in several squeezing movements to prolong her abating pleasure, then she stepped back.
We both giggled self-consciously, and to be truthful I didn't really know what to say anyway.
Lucy examined her sticky fingers.
"Now, I wonder what the best way is to clean myself up?" she murmured, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
I was about to point out that there was a box of tissues on the coffee table. But before I could, she lowered her hand and rubbed it on her dark, silken pubes above and to one side of her pussy.
It was obscene yet deliciously so. She repeated the process on the other side of her pussy, wiping the remnants of my cum from her fingers and onto her pubes. Blobs and little strings of creamy stickiness adorned her dark hairs, and a couple detached and stuck to her fingers. She wiped her hand on her inner thigh.
"There you go, love!" she said, her breathing still uneven. "That's what you needed! Me too!" She sat beside me on the bed and we spent several minutes kissing softly. Then she stood up.
"I need to be going too, now," she announced. "You've no idea what a lovely change it makes to have a younger lad join us, James," she added.
"I'll see you later, love," she continued. "Now might be a good time just to quickly remind you of one of our rules -- though as you'll have worked out, we don't have many!" She laughed softly at this point. I looked at her breasts, her mature face, and her fingers and hairy pussy still adorned with my mess.
My expression must have shown a look of concern, but she beamed to reassure me.
"Relax, James!" she murmured. "It's just this. Whatever we do, with whoever, is between those people and we don't talk about it later to our partners or to each other. In other words I won't tell Bill what we've just done, nor will you tell Anne. And I won't tell Bill or Jack or Caroline about you, your aunt and I in this room either. Agreed?"
I nodded. I vaguely remembered her husband, Bill, explaining this earlier. It was a relief to think that my aunt would not ask me about what Lucy and I had got up to. On the other hand I wished I could discover in detail what Aunt Anne had done with Jack while I was with Lucy, or what she had got up to with Bill and Lucy while I was with Caroline and Jack. As I looked at Lucy's petite body beside me, I had to fight back a vision of her and Aunt Anne kissing and caressing each other while Bill looked on or joined in.
"We all trust our partners to keep to certain bounds. But it seems a shame to share intimacy with someone else and then blab about it afterwards. And our rule is that if we catch each other doing so, they don't come to our parties again. Okay?"
I nodded again stupidly. "Fine by me," was all I could manage.
It felt oddly stimulating that this mature, married temptress was privy to my shameful secret. I felt somehow that I was in her power. Maybe it was just because by now my mind and my hormones were reeling.
She turned. I gazed at her short, slim frame, her narrow back, shoulders and waist, her slender legs and firm backside as, still naked, she walked softly to the door, opened it and closed it quietly behind her. I strained my ears for any further sound.
Several moments later I heard the bathroom door open, and a soft giggle escaped from Lucy. She said something quietly, but I could not catch her words and heard no other voice, so there was no way of knowing whom she had encountered on her naked creep back upstairs. I felt ashamed as I thought of the spectacle of her encountering someone, standing with my mess blobbed and strung in her luxuriant pubes.
I blushed hotly as I considered the possible candidates: Caroline, Jack, worse still, her own husband, Bill, or even -- my blush and temperature increased at the awful thought -- my Aunt Anne. No clue was forthcoming, however. Perhaps it was as well, though curiosity and acute embarrassment gripped me.
I lay on my back with my hands behind my head. It was surreal, but as I looked around the room there were enough little details to confirm that it had all indeed taken place.
_________________________
I waited half an hour or so to avoid returning upstairs too soon after Lucy, then wrapped a sheet loosely around myself and stole as softly as I could back to the room that had been assigned to me, but in which I had spent little of the night!
I dozed off lightly, then when I heard sounds and movements I got dressed and went downstairs to join the others.
Aunt Anne was entering the dining room with a plate of toast. She was wearing the tight, red dress she had worn to the "party". She looked stunning. I struggled not to ogle her so as not to betray that our relationship had taken an unexpected and taboo twist in the last few hours. She smiled at me a little coyly and greeted me with a soft "Morning, James!" Bill was seated at the table eating some cereal. He smiled at me and beckoned me to join him. Jack stepped into the room with a pot of coffee, and I could hear Lucy's and Caroline's voices in the kitchen.
Caroline was wearing the similarly tight dress over her busty figure that she had worn the previous evening. It was easier not to eye her up; the presence of her partner, Jack, restrained me. Nevertheless I recalled the sight of her fabulous breasts that had wrapped around my erection. I though too of her small, jaunty tuft of long blond hair above her pussy, and the way she had straddled me and bobbed her shaved pussy lips against my protruding tongue.
Lucy was wearing cropped trousers and a modest tee shirt. I found it harder to resist looking at her, though managed to avoid ogling her body over-much. But each time she licked her lips or drew her lower one under her upper one I was reminded of kissing her lips, and of seeing them close round my erection. The sight of her hands reminded me of our illicit creep downstairs in the early hours -- her leading me along the landing by my erection and only swapping to my hand as we reached the stairs -- for a conspired rendezvous (unguessed by me) with my naked aunt. I thought too of how she had shamelessly masturbated before Aunt Anne, and of my taking my aunt before Lucy's very eyes and jerking body.
As had happened the previous evening the conversation was inane and without any reference at all to the activities of the previous evening and night. It was all very odd, but nobody else seemed to find it so. My stomach began to churn a little at the prospect of the journey home with Aunt Anne. I had very mixed feelings about being alone with her, fearing recrimination and shame, yet craving the opportunity to have sex with her again soon.
Caroline and Jack left first. I watched them go, and, much as I had enjoyed being with them both, wished I had had chance to be alone with Caroline. Aunt Anne and I hung around for a while longer, then my aunt said that we too needed to head home.
We stepped out of the door and down the drive. A lady in her late fifties was pruning a rose bush in her front garden. She smiled to Lucy and they exchanged pleasantries.
Aunt Anne and I stood awkwardly, wanting to go but wanting to say goodbye first to our hosts. Lucy and the neighbour did not speak long, but as Lucy turned to rejoin us I heard her neighbour call out.
"Gerald and I were a bit concerned that first time we saw some cars arrive, I must admit," she said. "We were afraid it would turn out to be rowdy till goodness-knows what time. It was a lovely surprise that you make no noise and cause no trouble. Such a relief to know we had such nice, respectable neighbours!"
I had to turn away and pretend I was coughing to hide my embarrassed chortle. Amazingly Lucy kept her composure.
"Thank you, Yvonne," she replied. "We do try to be considerate. And, er, respectable, too, though we don't always manage!" she added light-heartedly. She gave a sidelong glance to myself and Aunt Anne. I looked away.
It was no surprise that the respectable pretence to the neighbours was successful, but it was delicious to overhear the evidence of it and to be confronted so potently with the double lives that Lucy and Bill, and we, their guests, were now leading.
I thought of the contrast between the Lucy talking over the fence to her nice neighbour and the Lucy who had initiated me in performing anal sex, and who had conspired to bring about the consummation of my and my aunt's growing desire for each other. I thought again of this "respectable" lady who had pleasured herself until spent to the sight of my aunt and I having sex. And thought of her creeping upstairs, her soft dark pussy hairs bejewelled by my creamy cum.
I felt a stirring in my trousers, and tried to position my arm to mask it.
Aunt Anne and I got into the car. I tried not to look at her too much, though it was hard not to. She was wearing the flame red, tight dress she had worn the previous evening. I was almost painfully conscious of her closeness to me as she started the engine and pulled away.
We waved goodbye. On the way back we talked about the weather, the decor of Lucy and Bill's house, the countryside we were passing through, anything but the dreadful yet delicious thing that had happened in Bill and Lucy's lounge.
I felt terribly tense, and hot, but Aunt Anne seemed fully relaxed. It was a confusing journey. And my troubled mind was further disturbed by fleeting images that my imagination conjured up: Caroline, Jack, Bill, and Aunt Anne all in their respective places of work with nobody ever guessing their secret.
A recurring image came to me of Lucy chatting to her neighbour who was utterly convinced of her respectability, with no hint to the contrary. And Aunt Anne -- and I -- had the biggest and naughtiest secret of all, of course, perhaps speculated upon by the others, but unknown to them all except Lucy.
_________________________
I awoke to the sound of a muffled alarm clock. I opened my eyes. Still wrapped in a sheet on a sofa across the room, Lucy fumbled for the clock, which was under a cushion, and turned it off. Aunt Anne slid gently away from beside me and stood up. It was summer (though not a very warm one) and enough soft light filtered through the curtains for me to be able to see her naked body clearly.
I'm guessing that most blokes wake up in the morning with an erection, or at least half-hard; I say I'm guessing, as I don't make a habit of discussing the subject. Anyway, I had awoken half-hard and now I was stiffening further as my aunt stood naked by the sofa-bed to face me.
I ran my hungry gaze over her. She was tall and slim. Her dark-blond hair was dishevelled. Her eyes and mouth were smiling coyly. My eyes roamed to her neck then to her small, high-mounted breasts. I gazed upon her puffy nipples, then my eyes swept over her midriff and down to her butterfly tattoo and to her pussy, shaved smooth except for a narrow landing strip above her hood. Her hair was pale and cropped to stubble. With a twinge of shame -- though not remorse -- I recalled our earlier passion, watched by Lucy, as I entered my own aunt and came inside her.
Aunt Anne stooped over me to kiss me. Her bare little breasts dipped forward a little, and my hands rose to caress them, but she pulled away and laughed quietly.
"Not now, love. I need to creep upstairs. We don't want anyone to come downstairs and find us in bed together, do we?" she murmured as she picked up her discarded nightdress from the floor. I reached out and stroked it, relishing the cool slinky feel of it.
I reached for my watch. It was only five-thirty in the morning. Lucy was lying on her side watching us. Her dark hair was untidy. The bed sheet was d****d across her chest but she shuffled -- probably deliberately -- and it slipped to bare her uppermost breast, modest but a bigger then Aunt Anne's, and adorned with a gold ring through her nipple. Her blues eyes seemed to pierce me. I glanced at her narrow lips and recalled how they had closed around my manhood as she licked me clean after my orgasm.
But my gaze returned quickly to my aunt. It had only been a few days since my lust for her had been kindled by the sight of her in that very nightdress. But now as I lay gazing at her it was with the dreadful consciousness that my desire for her had now been consummated. She stood half-facing me, and I watched her raise her hands, and gazed at her long arms and shaved armpits as the ivory nightdress slid down her and over her head.
It slid sensually lower, veiling her from my sight beginning with her little breasts, then rapidly covering down to her tattoo and nearly hairless pussy, and finally to the calves of her well toned legs.
Whilst I wouldn't describe it as strongly as a fetish, I do love satin or silk on a woman. And right then the sight of Aunt Anne slipping on her nightdress in the soft, early morning light that the curtains filtered was utterly captivating.
Her nightdress shimmered in the light, and patches of light and shadow ebbed and flowed on it as she moved. Her nightdress didn't cling to her, but it did fit closely enough to show the contours of her body. The bust was trimmed with fine ivory mesh, and the shape of her little breasts was clear under it. Although her nipples were puffy, the whole nipple from the areola to the tip forming a pink cone rather than the nub of it rising from the areola, they pressed against the shiny fabric. The satin was a brilliant, highlighted white where they did so. Under her breasts the fabric was subtly shadowed, the slightness of the shadow emphasising the smallness of her breasts. Her cleft was very shallow.
The back of the nightdress was cut to just below her shoulder blades and two narrow, bra-type straps with a little buckle and ring held it in place. The pretty lace trim at the bust fell in a sharp diagonal line to form a deep V of mesh at the back down to her waist. Little random swirls adorned the mesh.
The nightdress hung deliciously over her backside, the cut and the highlights and shadows of the shiny satin half-showing, half-suggesting its size and curves.
I looked into her face. She held my gaze, and I blushed, feeling ashamed to be eyeing her up so close and with such intensity. She blushed, too, but smiled. She stooped over me to kiss me again. Her neckline puckered forward. I stared inside at her breasts and nipples, entirely visible. Very briefly I fondled her buttocks through the cool, slippery satin, then, summoning all my will power I withdrew my hands.
"I must be going, James, love," she whispered. She straightened up and headed slowly and stealthily to the door, her ivory nightdress stretching and creasing against her, emphasising her contours and movements with each soft step she took. She closed the door as quietly as she could.
She was gone. I was completely hard. And frustrated. I could just hear her creeping stealthily up the stairs.
It was very disappointing. The sex we had enjoyed in the early hours of the night had been quite brief -- though, admittedly, extremely intense. I would have loved another opportunity right now, slow and unhurried, exploring each other and building up slowly. But I knew she was right. I would have been mortified for the others to know we had spent the night in each other's arms, and to see from the spent condoms that we had enjoyed sex not once but twice.
I looked over at Lucy. She was lying on her side, propping herself on her elbow and staring at me with her piercing blue eyes. She ran her tongue slowly across her lips. She drew back the sheet that was covering her. My heart began to hammer in my chest and I felt my erection tighten to the full, then relax slightly.
It was almost a replication of a few hours ago when she had led me to this room and when my aunt had exposed herself to me. It had been a conspiracy between her and Lucy.
And Lucy was replicating the scene deliberately. She raised, then lowered her dark, plucked eyebrows to give me a knowing look, and smiled saucily at me.
Her neck was slightly lined, and her straight, slightly broad nose seemed to emphasise the paleness of her eyes and the narrowness of her lips. Her breasts sagged slightly but not over-much, and I stared at the piercing through her nipple.
Although she was petite, a few lines creased her stomach below her navel. Her posture led my eye over the curve of her hip to her slender flank. As Aunt Anne had done, Lucy was lying with her legs closed. Her legs were shorter and more slender than my aunt's were. But in the triangle between her inner thighs and her body there was a dense patch of soft-looking hair instead of a pale, narrow landing strip.
Still holding my lustful gaze, Lucy drew her lower lip under her upper one. I knew it was just a mannerism, but it seemed strangely erotic. Then, as Aunt Anne had done, she opened her slender legs and angled the upper one away.
I gave a low gasp as her pouting lips came into view, their pinkness highlighted by the dark hairs above and to each side. She stroked her breasts, which yielded just slightly due to the lightness of her touch, and slid her hand down, over her belly, to her verdant bush.
She ran her long fingers through her dark pubes, and I watched her fine hairs twine around them fingers. She flickered her tongue over her lips and then pressed her fingers on her mound and eased her pussy open.
I stared at the raw pink flesh. She rocked her splayed hand back and forth, causing her pussy to move rudely and enticingly.
"Are you hard?" she asked quietly, so as not to be overheard. Although her voice was low it seemed to shatter the intense silence, and startled me. I nodded.
"Show me!" she urged.
I pulled back the sheet and, without looking down, bared it to her. Her pupils seemed to enlarge at the sight. I readily admit that I am not massively endowed, probably average, but her look was eager. I blushed, unaccustomed to studious study of my nakedness, especially by a married woman who was old enough to be my mother and whose husband was upstairs. I guessed that it was probably my youth and relative inexperience that excited her -- or maybe the fact that she had enticed me into having sex with my aunt before her eyes. My manhood wilted slightly. She licked her lips again.
"I can't believe your aunt left you in that state without doing something to relieve you, you poor love!" she murmured.
Then she stood up. The sight of her modest breasts swaying as she did so revived my hardness. My stomach gave a churn of anticipation, too.
For a few agonising moments she simply facing me from across the room, her pale eyes fixed on mine. She rested one hand on her hip. With the other she stroked and fondled her breasts, teasing her nipples with her fingers, rolling them round with the palm of her hand, and tugging on her nipple piercing. Her orb stretched lewdly out of shape. Her belly was fairly flat, with just a little looseness, and my eyes then latched again on her hairy pussy
She turned slowly round and I gazed at her slender legs and shapely bum cheeks. I blushed with shame at the reminder that the previous evening she had allowed me to penetrate the naughty hole that nestled out of sight between them. Still with her back to me she leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees, and gyrated her hips slowly.
She stood up and faced me again. Her left hand hung by her side. With her right hand she continued to play with her semi-firm breasts. I glanced from her rippling flesh to her wedding ring, and back to her orb again. I thought of her husband Bill, upstairs. I wondered whether he had joined Caroline and Jack, whether he was wondering where his wife, Lucy, was, or whether he was even sleeping obliviously. Whilst I knew that he was fully content to share his wife on occasions such as this, it nevertheless felt very illicit. And the muting of Lucy's voice and mine added to the naughty appeal of it.
With a shudder of delight I watched her step slowly, naked, towards me, still playing with her breasts and her nipple piercing, and still gazing intently at me.
She stood close and, as my aunt had done, stooped to kiss me on the mouth. I was half-hoping for a long sexy smooch such as we had enjoyed several hours earlier, but she broke away.
"I can't believe she left you so excited without helping you out!" she said softly. Again she licked her lips and stared down at my burgeoning erection. I watched passively as she raised her hand to her mouth. She licked her palm and her fingers, and I watched as she lowered her hand to my hardness and wrapped it around me. I felt her give a gentle squeeze, then she began to rock her hand slowly up and down, sliding my taut skin back and forth to bare my purplish, seeping tip. I gasped.
She leaned forward and proffered her breasts to my mouth. I drew her left one into my mouth and sucked on it. She cooed with pleasure and braced herself on the back of the sofa bed that served as the headboard. I caressed her thigh, and she sighed with pleasure. She guided my hand to her hairy minge, and, just as she had done I slid my fingers through the soft, dank hairs.
She held her hand up with her fingers extended and her thumb parted a little form them.
"Hold your hand like this..." she whispered. "Slide your thumb up my cunt and rub my clitty and hood with the edge of your finger..."
Her crudity thrilled me. She leaned forward again and braced herself on the back of the sofa. She was already moist as I eased my thumb into her. I teased her hard nipple with my tongue and gently tugged on her piercing with my teeth.
"Oooh yes, love... you've got a nice touch, James! That's it! Let's have a nasty quickie with our fingers!" she hissed.
Against my finger her slit and hood felt hard and sticky, and as I pushed my thumb in and out of her, my finger effectively frigged her clit at the same time. Her mouth was open and her teeth were bared in a kind of grimace, but a grimace of pleasure, as we played with each other.
My finger made a soft but rude squishing sound and the pumping of her palm on my dribbling knob made a sympathetic sound. I watched her hand making its lewd movements and mt foreskin sliding back and forth, and sucked harder on her breast. I rested my other hand on her backside and kneaded it rhythmically. I nonchalantly slid my hand further round and nestled the edge of my hand into her bum cleft, pressing against her lightly perspiring skin, but I made no attempt to do more than that unbidden.
Her hand clasped me a bitt firmer and her wanking movements increased in vigour and speed. It was certainly going to be a quickie, I thought, as my eyes raced from the movement of my thumb sawing in and out of her hairy pussy then to my finger on her clit, to her slightly flaccid breasts and hardening nipples, to her sweetly contorted face and then to her hand rudely pumping me. I sucked her orb more ardently and drove my thumb and fingers harder. I knew I could not last long. I didn't care.
I paused a little as I felt my balls tighten. I groaned and then thrust myself into her clasping palm. My cum spurted a little and oozed down her still-pumping hand. I gasped, still thrusting until I was spent. I wished I had more to give her, but this was my fourth ejaculation in less than twelve hours.
Lucy was grinding her pussy against my hand and I resumed, concentrating now on reciprocating the blissful relief that she had given me. I squeezed her bum cheek as I drove my thumb deeper into her and rubbed her clit harder with my fingers with each stroke. She braced herself more fully and began to gasp and to shake. I withdrew my face from her B-cup breasts and treated myself to the spectacle of them bouncing and swaying deliciously above my face in her ecstasy. She brought her legs together in several squeezing movements to prolong her abating pleasure, then she stepped back.
We both giggled self-consciously, and to be truthful I didn't really know what to say anyway.
Lucy examined her sticky fingers.
"Now, I wonder what the best way is to clean myself up?" she murmured, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
I was about to point out that there was a box of tissues on the coffee table. But before I could, she lowered her hand and rubbed it on her dark, silken pubes above and to one side of her pussy.
It was obscene yet deliciously so. She repeated the process on the other side of her pussy, wiping the remnants of my cum from her fingers and onto her pubes. Blobs and little strings of creamy stickiness adorned her dark hairs, and a couple detached and stuck to her fingers. She wiped her hand on her inner thigh.
"There you go, love!" she said, her breathing still uneven. "That's what you needed! Me too!" She sat beside me on the bed and we spent several minutes kissing softly. Then she stood up.
"I need to be going too, now," she announced. "You've no idea what a lovely change it makes to have a younger lad join us, James," she added.
"I'll see you later, love," she continued. "Now might be a good time just to quickly remind you of one of our rules -- though as you'll have worked out, we don't have many!" She laughed softly at this point. I looked at her breasts, her mature face, and her fingers and hairy pussy still adorned with my mess.
My expression must have shown a look of concern, but she beamed to reassure me.
"Relax, James!" she murmured. "It's just this. Whatever we do, with whoever, is between those people and we don't talk about it later to our partners or to each other. In other words I won't tell Bill what we've just done, nor will you tell Anne. And I won't tell Bill or Jack or Caroline about you, your aunt and I in this room either. Agreed?"
I nodded. I vaguely remembered her husband, Bill, explaining this earlier. It was a relief to think that my aunt would not ask me about what Lucy and I had got up to. On the other hand I wished I could discover in detail what Aunt Anne had done with Jack while I was with Lucy, or what she had got up to with Bill and Lucy while I was with Caroline and Jack. As I looked at Lucy's petite body beside me, I had to fight back a vision of her and Aunt Anne kissing and caressing each other while Bill looked on or joined in.
"We all trust our partners to keep to certain bounds. But it seems a shame to share intimacy with someone else and then blab about it afterwards. And our rule is that if we catch each other doing so, they don't come to our parties again. Okay?"
I nodded again stupidly. "Fine by me," was all I could manage.
It felt oddly stimulating that this mature, married temptress was privy to my shameful secret. I felt somehow that I was in her power. Maybe it was just because by now my mind and my hormones were reeling.
She turned. I gazed at her short, slim frame, her narrow back, shoulders and waist, her slender legs and firm backside as, still naked, she walked softly to the door, opened it and closed it quietly behind her. I strained my ears for any further sound.
Several moments later I heard the bathroom door open, and a soft giggle escaped from Lucy. She said something quietly, but I could not catch her words and heard no other voice, so there was no way of knowing whom she had encountered on her naked creep back upstairs. I felt ashamed as I thought of the spectacle of her encountering someone, standing with my mess blobbed and strung in her luxuriant pubes.
I blushed hotly as I considered the possible candidates: Caroline, Jack, worse still, her own husband, Bill, or even -- my blush and temperature increased at the awful thought -- my Aunt Anne. No clue was forthcoming, however. Perhaps it was as well, though curiosity and acute embarrassment gripped me.
I lay on my back with my hands behind my head. It was surreal, but as I looked around the room there were enough little details to confirm that it had all indeed taken place.
_________________________
I waited half an hour or so to avoid returning upstairs too soon after Lucy, then wrapped a sheet loosely around myself and stole as softly as I could back to the room that had been assigned to me, but in which I had spent little of the night!
I dozed off lightly, then when I heard sounds and movements I got dressed and went downstairs to join the others.
Aunt Anne was entering the dining room with a plate of toast. She was wearing the tight, red dress she had worn to the "party". She looked stunning. I struggled not to ogle her so as not to betray that our relationship had taken an unexpected and taboo twist in the last few hours. She smiled at me a little coyly and greeted me with a soft "Morning, James!" Bill was seated at the table eating some cereal. He smiled at me and beckoned me to join him. Jack stepped into the room with a pot of coffee, and I could hear Lucy's and Caroline's voices in the kitchen.
Caroline was wearing the similarly tight dress over her busty figure that she had worn the previous evening. It was easier not to eye her up; the presence of her partner, Jack, restrained me. Nevertheless I recalled the sight of her fabulous breasts that had wrapped around my erection. I though too of her small, jaunty tuft of long blond hair above her pussy, and the way she had straddled me and bobbed her shaved pussy lips against my protruding tongue.
Lucy was wearing cropped trousers and a modest tee shirt. I found it harder to resist looking at her, though managed to avoid ogling her body over-much. But each time she licked her lips or drew her lower one under her upper one I was reminded of kissing her lips, and of seeing them close round my erection. The sight of her hands reminded me of our illicit creep downstairs in the early hours -- her leading me along the landing by my erection and only swapping to my hand as we reached the stairs -- for a conspired rendezvous (unguessed by me) with my naked aunt. I thought too of how she had shamelessly masturbated before Aunt Anne, and of my taking my aunt before Lucy's very eyes and jerking body.
As had happened the previous evening the conversation was inane and without any reference at all to the activities of the previous evening and night. It was all very odd, but nobody else seemed to find it so. My stomach began to churn a little at the prospect of the journey home with Aunt Anne. I had very mixed feelings about being alone with her, fearing recrimination and shame, yet craving the opportunity to have sex with her again soon.
Caroline and Jack left first. I watched them go, and, much as I had enjoyed being with them both, wished I had had chance to be alone with Caroline. Aunt Anne and I hung around for a while longer, then my aunt said that we too needed to head home.
We stepped out of the door and down the drive. A lady in her late fifties was pruning a rose bush in her front garden. She smiled to Lucy and they exchanged pleasantries.
Aunt Anne and I stood awkwardly, wanting to go but wanting to say goodbye first to our hosts. Lucy and the neighbour did not speak long, but as Lucy turned to rejoin us I heard her neighbour call out.
"Gerald and I were a bit concerned that first time we saw some cars arrive, I must admit," she said. "We were afraid it would turn out to be rowdy till goodness-knows what time. It was a lovely surprise that you make no noise and cause no trouble. Such a relief to know we had such nice, respectable neighbours!"
I had to turn away and pretend I was coughing to hide my embarrassed chortle. Amazingly Lucy kept her composure.
"Thank you, Yvonne," she replied. "We do try to be considerate. And, er, respectable, too, though we don't always manage!" she added light-heartedly. She gave a sidelong glance to myself and Aunt Anne. I looked away.
It was no surprise that the respectable pretence to the neighbours was successful, but it was delicious to overhear the evidence of it and to be confronted so potently with the double lives that Lucy and Bill, and we, their guests, were now leading.
I thought of the contrast between the Lucy talking over the fence to her nice neighbour and the Lucy who had initiated me in performing anal sex, and who had conspired to bring about the consummation of my and my aunt's growing desire for each other. I thought again of this "respectable" lady who had pleasured herself until spent to the sight of my aunt and I having sex. And thought of her creeping upstairs, her soft dark pussy hairs bejewelled by my creamy cum.
I felt a stirring in my trousers, and tried to position my arm to mask it.
Aunt Anne and I got into the car. I tried not to look at her too much, though it was hard not to. She was wearing the flame red, tight dress she had worn the previous evening. I was almost painfully conscious of her closeness to me as she started the engine and pulled away.
We waved goodbye. On the way back we talked about the weather, the decor of Lucy and Bill's house, the countryside we were passing through, anything but the dreadful yet delicious thing that had happened in Bill and Lucy's lounge.
I felt terribly tense, and hot, but Aunt Anne seemed fully relaxed. It was a confusing journey. And my troubled mind was further disturbed by fleeting images that my imagination conjured up: Caroline, Jack, Bill, and Aunt Anne all in their respective places of work with nobody ever guessing their secret.
A recurring image came to me of Lucy chatting to her neighbour who was utterly convinced of her respectability, with no hint to the contrary. And Aunt Anne -- and I -- had the biggest and naughtiest secret of all, of course, perhaps speculated upon by the others, but unknown to them all except Lucy.
Alma
- 18.06.2021
- 19
- 0
Aunt Anne and Her Friends Ch 10
- 2 years ago
- 49
- 0
Aunt Anne and Her Friends Ch 02
- 3 years ago
- 24
- 0
