In chapter 3 Jack and his mother experiment with bondage and anal intercourse. Their passion and love for each other reach new heights of forbidden eroticism. But change is on the horizon as Elizabeth's older sister, newly widowed, is coming to live with her. Jack wonders how this will change things between him and his mother and he recalls an incident a few years ago when his aunt appeared to make a pass at him.
This concluding chapter of the series is about what happens when Jack's Aunt Katherine comes to live with Elizabeth. It is recommended that you read chapters 1 to 3 first as they contain important background on Elizabeth's looks and character which are highly pertinent to the story line. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Sylviafan
After getting back from Scotland my mother and I had had four weeks before Aunt Katherine moved down to Oxford. Neither of us could be sure what affect her arrival would have on the intense and incestuous sexual relationship that had developed between us over the past few weeks. Once unimaginable, unthinkable, now we regularly indulged in vaginal and anal intercourse, often with my mother strapped securely to the bed, either at her house or at my flat in the city centre.
So for four weeks we had made the most of it, fucking like rabbits at every opportunity. We barely spent a night apart; mostly I would go to her house after work each day and we would shower together. Then she would dress in stockings and a garter belt and we would spend anything up to two- or three-hours making love in the most erotic ways imaginable. These evening sessions usually, though not always, culminated in me penetrating her anus, something my mother was growing to enjoy almost as much as vaginal intercourse. She had also started to explore my anus, using her tongue and fingers to excite me.
In the mornings, we would make love again. Mostly this was conventional sex, tender and slow, in contrast to the sometimes-rough passion of the evening before. My mother's arousal at the roughness of our evening play never ceased to amaze me. The night before Aunt Katherine's arrival, determined to extract the last drop of pleasure before the curtain came down, my mother had timidly asked me to spank her. Surprised, and aroused myself, I laid her across my knees, naked apart from stockings and suspenders, and smacked her bare arse, hard, pausing between blows to stroke her shaven pussy and tease her little brown rosebud. She squealed and writhed as I smacked, trying to rub her clitoris on my leg and eventually reaching a climax. I felt bad about her glowing red buttocks, but she was thrilled with the experience.
Then Katherine had arrived and for two weeks our relationship had been as chaste as a mother-son relationship should be as we assessed the implications of her older sister's presence. Indeed, we hardly saw each other! And a long two weeks it was, before Katherine got a job -- she was anxious to pay her way -- and was out of the house during weekdays. Unfortunately, so was I. I could hardly leave the office at lunchtime and pop round for a quick fuck -- not that idea hadn't occurred to me. And of course auntie was around at weekends too. Eventually mum partially solved the problem by inventing "Don," a fake boyfriend she'd met on the internet with whom she spent her Saturdays, sometimes staying over at his flat on Saturday night. This fitted in with mum's new image -- the cosmetics and dyed hair and the clothing transformation -- and Katherine appeared to accept the story, even suggesting that when a decent period of mourning had elapsed, she too would try internet dating.
So we had Saturdays together, with no fear of being disturbed as I had, so far, neglected to furnish Katherine with the address of my flat. Elizabeth generally arrived at midday and we spent the afternoon fucking. Then we'd go out for a meal in the city centre and maybe take in a movie before going back to my flat and fucking again until we were both exhausted and sometimes slightly sore. On Sunday morning we'd stay in bed with the papers and fuck again before Elizabeth left mid-afternoon. Heaven. I lived for the weekends!
A month or so into this delightful routine, mum had to go into hospital overnight for a routine carpel tunnel operation. It was no big deal but there were some logistics issues to discuss and I came over to her house on Tuesday evening so that Katherine could be included in the discussions. After we were done, and I was taking my leave, Katherine surprised us by offering to cook for me while mum was away.
'I know Liz doesn't cook much for you nowadays, Jack, but I thought it would give us a chance to have a good old natter. And I can rustle up a pretty decent meal though I say it myself.'
It would have been churlish to refuse so I said I'd come over after dropping mum at the hospital on Friday evening.
'Be kind to your aunt,' were mum's parting words as I dropped her off. 'She's still a bit fragile after all that's happened.'
Taking her words to heart I bought a big bunch of assorted flowers at the hospital kiosk and presented them to my aunt as I walked through to the kitchen where she was elbow-deep in food preparation.
'Oh Jack! How thoughtful of you! I'll hug you later, I'm all floury at the moment.' She held up her arms as though to confirm this. 'Now pour yourself a glass of wine, and top mine up, there's a bottle already opened over there, and go and relax in the front room while I finish off. I hope you like Beef Wellington. And there's cheesecake afterwards...'
I retreated to the front room and put the television on, watching an early evening game show and half listening to the clatter coming from the kitchen. Half an hour later auntie stuck her head through the doorway.
'I'm going upstairs to make myself look presentable. Hope I won't be too long.' This last was accompanied by a mischievous grin. 'Help yourself to more wine.'
She thumped upstairs and I went into the kitchen, where the odours of cooking made my mouth water. The bottle of Merlot that I'd poured us a glass from was now empty, and there was an opened bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon next to it, about three-quarters full. By my estimation this meant Aunt Katherine had drunk more than a bottle of wine already this evening. I topped my glass up, resigned to having to stay the night and thinking that a bit of anaesthetic wouldn't do any harm.
Katherine was upstairs for over an hour, but when she finally came down, pausing in the kitchen to refill her glass, I could see why she'd taken so long. Sixty-four she may have been but she scrubbed up pretty well, I thought. She was dressed in a simple grey woollen dress which accentuated her figure. She wasn't voluptuous but she had more curves than mum, including a very respectable bust. Her ash-blonde hair was freshly washed and shining and she'd used a lot of make-up, quite cleverly, to make the best of her long face and pointed jaw. She was wearing black stockings or tights and high heels and I also noticed that she'd painted her nails red, for which I must confess I am a sucker. The overall effect was of a mature but attractive lady who'd taken some trouble to look good.
'Now come and give your auntie a hug.'
I stood up from the settee and she came over and flung her arms around me, squeezing me tightly and kissing my cheek. I could feel her breasts pushing into my chest and smell the combination of red wine and toothpaste on her breath. I could also smell her scent. It was the same as mum's. It probably was mum's.
She broke the hug, but not before kissing me full on the mouth. 'That's a "thank you" for the flowers.'
'You're welcome,' I said. 'Maybe I'll have to buy you some more often.' It was a stupid thing to say; I wasn't looking to seduce my aunt. But the devil was inside me that evening, of that there is no doubt, and I was curious as to what would happen if I flirted.
'Yes,' she said, looking me in the eye, 'why don't you.' There was an awkward pause then she disappeared into the kitchen calling 'dinner in ten minutes' over her shoulder.
We ate at the pine kitchen table that I'd fucked her sister over a few times. And dinner was, as Katherine had promised, very good. I've always been fond of Beef Wellington and I adore lemon cheesecake. There was also more wine. Too much more, I thought. Another bottle was opened and I could see that Aunt Katherine was affected: her eyes were slightly unfocussed and her gestures exaggerated. Part of me hoped that she'd pass out on the settee after dinner. Part of me was still curious as to how the evening might develop. It was this latter part that suggested we take our glasses through to the front room, and it was this latter part that followed auntie to the settee when I could have taken the single chair.
