Auntie And I Ch 02

I woke to bright sunlight. I wasn't usually a late sleeper and I felt disoriented. The apartment was quiet but there was a sound. Auntie! She was masturbating again! It sounded so wet, like those crazed porn girls who go wild on their own pussies! I was already in my sweatpants so I leapt out of bed to investigate, expecting to find her naked, her legs spread wide, her hand furiously rubbing through a sloppy, squirting orgasm.

"Hi, slugger. Sleep well?"

Auntie was at the sink, hand washing her soiled dress. I decided I'd been watching too much porn.

"Yeah, I slept crazy good," I said. I sat down at the table and watched her. She smiled at me sweetly. "Does it wash out okay?" I asked.

"Oh, sure, sweetheart," she said reassuringly. "It's not the first time. If I had a nickel..."

Curiosity furrowed my brow, but Auntie didn't notice. I wondered just how much cum she'd wiped up with that delightful peasant dress, the one that barely contained her big tits. She squeezed the rinse water out of it and hung it out on the fire escape. A fresh sea-breeze caught it and fluttered it like a flag.

"Why don't you take the rest of the morning and do some sketching," she said. "You'll probably think this if funny, but I've done some of my best work after a nice night of sex."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah. It stimulates good stuff. It's not just about your pecker. It's about your mind." She tapped the side of her head with her finger for emphasis. I smiled at my sexy aunt. I realized she was a sexual guru, in a way, with much to teach me.

"Want to go downstairs and look at the work from last night?" she asked. "I'm dying to see it all with fresh eyes."

I nodded and followed her, down the back stairs. She wore a flesh colored bra, and had tights on legs, charcoal gray with a subtle diamond pattern. I'd seen her in them before a couple of times, but I guess I'd never followed her. The ass wiggle in those tights was nothing sort of extraordinary. The kind of sight you want to bottle up and save for a cold winter night.

She opened up the flat file and started pulling out drawings. The work table was littered with renderings of my hard cock. Some seemed exaggerated, but Auntie said no, that's how I look to a woman. She said the more desirous the woman is, the bigger they draw it. It's a subtle thing, not like a caricature, and she said a drawing isn't unreal if that's how the artist sees. It made some sense to me, maybe because I was hungry. If what she said was true, Ginette and Dina and Celine were the most desirous, at least on that night. I was pretty sure they were the three oldest, too.

"Which one's Maria's," I asked.

Auntie smiled. "She almost made you cum, didn't she. I saw her eyes."

I couldn't help but smile a little as I thought of it. It was a moment that seemed dangerous at the time, teetering on the edge of messy embarrassment as I stared into Maria's darkly magic eyes. I don't know what I was thinking, that close to spurting cum in front of near strangers, maybe even

on

near strangers. I guess I wasn't thinking at all.

"You could have, you know," Auntie said. "I wouldn't have minded. I'm pretty sure the girls would have sorta liked it, too." She thought for a moment and chuckled. "God, that gusher you unleashed for me! I'd be willing to bet most of them have never seen

that

before. Are you always...so full?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I guess."

"Did your girlfriend let you cum in her mouth?"

"Not really," I said. "She wasn't, like, afraid of it, but she'd just do it a little when it was almost over."

"Just a taste, huh? So nobody's ever drank you? Like a protein shake?"

Auntie's face looked happy and relaxed. I didn't know how to answer. Our conversations had become deeply sexual and it felt almost normal. I liked it.

We looked at the drawings some more. "This one's good," she said. "Phoebe. She's got real talent. Look at how she triangulated those opposite corners. She's got good instincts."

Phoebe's drawing was one of three that included my hand. She had it down near the base of my cock, with lot's of me extending out of it. My shaft looked solid and meaty. It was a nice drawing.

"We all talked about you, you know, after you went up last night," Auntie said. "I asked them how far they want to go, you know, erotic wise, and there was a unanimous vote to let it go where it wants to go. That gives you a whole lot of freedom."

"What kind of freedom?"

"Well, say, if you want to show Maria that hot load of cum that she can magically force out of you with her eyes." Auntie paused and I didn't say anything. "Is that terrible?" she asked. "Am I terrible?"

"No!" I said. "You're

crazy

, but you're not terrible."

Auntie's mouth curled into an odd little smile. "We all decided that real erotic art should have two people. That was Celine's idea, but we all agreed."

"Two models? Who else would you get?"

"It would have to be me. It's just...something to think about."

"You wouldn't be able to teach."

"I'd be able to," Auntie said. "We'd take breaks and I could walk around. I think it would work. Totally up to you, though. If it's too weird, with me being your aunt and everything..."

"Wouldn't

they

think it was weird?"

"I already mentioned the possibility and they all looked happy about it. I think seeing you look more natural has them all intrigued."

"Was it a bad pose last night? I don't really know what I'm doing."

"That's why a partner helps," she said. "Then it can be just normal sexy couple poses. Simulated sex."

"Simulated."

"Yeah, silly! I'm not gonna fuck you in

front

of everyone!"

The way she said it made me wonder if she wanted to fuck me where we

couldn't

be seen. Alone. Just the two of us. But that seemed crazy. My stupid horny mind was running away with itself again, imagining unimaginable thoughts. I quickly thought about what she was proposing and came to the conclusion it was the only way I'd be able to touch her the way I wanted to. Depending on the pose, I might be able to have my hands on Auntie. Naked Auntie. I'd be able to feel her softness the way that I craved, and doing it in front of the class would make it acceptable.

"Yeah," I said. "I mean, I guess it sounds all right."

Auntie looked happy. "Really? Oh, they'll be thrilled! We all talked about keeping this really quiet, though, okay? If you make any friends in town, or anywhere, mum's the word. If you're talking to anybody but the girls or me, you're not involved in the class at all, okay?"

"Oh, sure, Yeah. I wouldn't ever say anything."

—

I saw Celine when I was out sketching. I was on the fisherman's wharf, a paved parking lot that extends into the harbor, right in the middle of town. It's a place that bustles with activity when the fishing boats are coming in or going out, with trucks unloading and loading equipment and fish, and at night its perimeter is lined with the village's fishing fleet. In the middle of the day, though, it's often deserted, mostly used by tourists as a parking lot for when they browse in the galleries and walk around town taking pictures with their phones. When Celine happened by I was sitting on a guardrail at the edge of the wharf, sketching a Ferrari.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Ferrari. F12 Berlinetta. Pretty rare."

"You know about them?"

"I'm taking Automotive Design at school. I read the magazines."

"You'd look good in it."

"You could come with me," I said. "You could ride for a while."

I felt as if I'd been hit with a hammer after saying the words. It was a pretty good line of flirting, the best I'd come up with so far in my young life, and I immediately felt it's power. Celine didn't answer with words, just with a shy smile. As I sketched, I glanced at her as much as I could without being too obvious. I pictured her breasts, of course, because I'd seen them, drawn in charcoal on cream-colored paper, seven renderings of them, so I knew what I was picturing was real. Pretty mounds the size of a half a grapefruit, with a deep crease along the bottom where they meet the body. All the women had drawn barely-there nipples, so I pictured them, too; delicate little things that I imagined were ticklish.

I could tell Celine was thinking about my cock, because I saw her glancing there, at my crotch. None of the women had seen me in my normal state, when my cock is nothing more than a penis, three inches long and marshmallow soft, so maybe she was wondering how my hard one would even fit in my pants.

Celine was very respectful of my sketching, not talking, just sitting with me. We listened to gulls and watched a local Osprey swoop and soar and dive for a fish. I sketched the dark red car, but Celine's presence was strong. It felt comforting, in a way, knowing what we looked like underneath our clothes. Total strangers try to imagine, but we didn't have to. We had knowledge, and it felt nice.

When I closed my sketchpad we talked about drawing, and the kind of art paper we preferred, and how we both liked trying to capture the moody feel of the rocky harbor. I told her I liked her idea, the one about having two models doing sexy poses at art class, and I told her Auntie — Pamela, I said — was going to pose with me on Tuesday. Celine was silent as I told her all that, her eyes showing her quiet excitement. I realized as I was saying it that it sort of locked me in, there was no backing out, but I think that's why I was saying it. I wanted it to happen. I wanted to be naked with my naked aunt, in front of those women, women who quietly gasped when they saw my erection, women whose eyes devoured me, women whose tits flashed into my mind when I met them around town, like I had x-ray vision.

Celine walked away, heading to the grocery store to pick up a few things. I watched the back of her as she walked outside the guardrail, right along the edge of the wharf, high up above the low-tide water. I imagined her ass and I wished I knew what it really looked like, naked, without her bluejeans. She was in her mid forties, a little older than Auntie, but she had a walk that looked much younger than that.

—

It was a good week at the gallery. The man in the Ferrari, it turned out, was a customer of Auntie's. He already owned one of her smaller paintings, and had driven up from his home in Boston to have a look at a large landscape she'd done, one he'd seen on her website. He purchased it on the spot, and we spent the next couple of days crating it and shipping it to him. Auntie was thrilled. She said a sale that big would keep her going for a whole year. It was an exaggeration, but it was a nice lucrative sale and an exciting day.

The big empty space on the gallery wall led to rearranging, and the week sped by with good energy. Evenings were spent on our own work and watching Netflix. There wasn't much sexy talk.

Meredith and Abigail stopped by the gallery one day, wearing backpacks that had the handles of tennis rackets sticking out of the top. Both of the women looked sweaty and well exercised, smiling and happy. They'd been at the schoolyard, playing a set or two.

"They let you play when there's school?" Auntie asked.

"Yeah, nobody uses those courts during the day," Abigail said. "They've got a little tennis team, but they play after school. Meredith likes to get all sweaty and imagine the high school boys watching her from the windows."

Meredith looked embarrassed. "I do not!" she said, glancing at me.

Auntie noticed her furtive glance and chuckled. "He's only a year out, you know. Any boys at Toad Harbor High look like him, you think?"

I heard Meredith's breath leave her, all in a rush. No air seemed to replace it and she went a little white. I wondered if she was thinking about me naked, the way I'd thought about her low-hanging tits when she walked in. They were all tucked into a bra for her tennis game, looking perky.

I thought about Abigail's tits, too, but mostly it was her nipples that came to mind. They were so extended and long in all the drawings, it made me wonder if all the women were desirous of them and had all drawn them more exaggerated than they really are. I could see a little of their form pushing against her tennis shirt, but her bra was getting in the way of my curiosity.

Word had already spread about Auntie modeling with me on Tuesday, and Meredith and Abigail looked excited about it. Auntie did, too, all of them reminding me of adolescent girls trying to contain their enthusiasm when talking about their Saturday night dates.

Meredith had skin-tight shorts on for her tennis game, like bicycle shorts without the crotch padding, and I wondered if she wore them special for the boys looking out the window at the school. I'd be willing to bet she did, and I'm sure she took some attention away from some lessons. The male teachers probably lost their train of thought, too. Abigail's ass wasn't as clearly defined as Meredith's, but it looked nice in her short white tennis shorts. Very nice. I had to give the nod to Meredith, but those look-like-they're-painted-on shorts skewed the vote a little.

I was hanging a painting when they finished talking to Auntie, and both yelled "Bye, Jon!" to me as they left. I'm pretty sure they were giggling. I'm also pretty sure they envied the youthful high school girls that dated those boys they were showing off to at the tennis court, but there was something even more alluring about women in their early thirties who could pull off that kind of cute.

—

Tuesday happened with a kind of heaviness. Not the bad kind, more like stage fright. I'd never been to a life drawing class that had two models posing together, so I had nothing to go on as to what was expected. I worried I'd look like a dork, touching Auntie awkwardly, making the women — and especially Maria for some reason — think I knew nothing of eroticism, nothing of how to be with a sexy woman.

It was true, of course. Having one girlfriend, for a few months, even if she

did

like sex, did not instantly turn me into an experienced lover. I

wanted

to be one, and

hoped

to be one some day, but I had no illusions that I'd already made the grade.

Thankfully, the day went by swiftly, and my mind was often on other things. After a dinner of homemade macaroni and cheese, Auntie went in the storage room and returned with a fresh box of art class wine. "I think we should get a little head start, so we're loose and not so nervous. Our first time might be a little...awkward...don't you think?"

I nodded. "Pour me."

Auntie smiled. She poured two glasses, took a big sip of hers and scurried off to her bedroom. She came back with something in her hand.

"So, you're going to be nude, because you're the main event, but I thought maybe I should wear panties, just so it's not

too

x-rated, at least this first time. What do you think, the red or the black?"

Auntie held two wispy, lacy things out in front of her, dangling them from her fingertips. They seemed minuscule. That's when it really hit me that nearly every square inch of her would be at my disposal.

"Red," I said.

"Good choice. We'll go full monty another time. The girls should get a chance to draw a pussy, don't you think?"

"It's your call," I said, taking a sip of wine.

"As long as you're willing. We're in this together."

"Oh, I'm willing."

Auntie eyed the smirk I couldn't shake. She looked pleased. "Full monty it is, then. Next week. Tonight we'll break the ice, get everybody used to things. They're really a great group of girls, I think this is gonna be a lot of fun. And just so you know, that big boner of yours is part of the deal here. You're not going to be embarrassed if I sort of...take charge of it, are you? I mean, that's sort of the whole erotic couple's pose point of things, right?"

"It's your call. Pamela."

Auntie grinned ear to ear and I took a big sip of wine. Her smile gets to me in a way that's hard to describe.

"There's a daybed in the storage room, under some boxes," she said. "We need to carry it down and set it up where the posing stool is. I think it'll fit."

"What's a daybed?"

"It's a single size bed with a rail around three sides. You can put cushions up against it and make sort of a couch."

"So we're going to be...in bed together?"

"Not

in

, more

on

. Simulated sex, remember? I want your cock front and center tonight, though. So I thought maybe we could lie together with our legs tangled up and I'll have it in my hand. That'd be a nice composition for them, with a lot of long lines for them to shade and shadow."

I nodded. Auntie was in charge. I was just along for the very exciting ride.

—

The pre-class huddle around the box of wine seemed more lively than the first time. The women were used to me, I guess, and I'd gotten to know four of them, at least a little. I wanted to feel comfortable with all of them, so I chatted with Dina and Leah. They were old friends whose husbands work on a fishing boat that goes out for weeks at a time. They told me they keep busy with crafting and other things, Dina making beaded jewelry that she sells at a gallery down the road from Auntie's, and Leah making jams and jellies and stitchery items that she sells in various places. I asked them if it was hard having their husbands gone for so long. They both said, no, not really, but their eyes told a different story. They both said Auntie and her art class was the best thing to happen to Toad Harbor in years; forever, maybe, now that I was part of it. They're sweet women.

It was time to get things started. I noticed the wine drinking had been a little more hard core. The place was buzzing with energy. When all the women were at their work stations, and Auntie and I stepped toward the bed in our robes, the room went completely silent.

"Jesus, girls," Auntie said. "A little chatter might help. I'm new at this, you know."

"Batterrrrr

up!

" Meredith said.

There was laughter. Auntie liked it. "That's it," she said. "Keep it loose here, okay? Here goes nothin'."

I'm sure everyone would have agreed that seeing Auntie unveil herself was far from nothing. She was stunning in so many ways. Curvy and hour-glassy and soft and titty and nipply, and red lacy down below. I started to get a little woozy looking at her, the wine buzzing me nicely. I'm sure I was looking at her more than a nephew should.

"Hey, the batter's up!" Meredith said.

It was my cock, of course, obscenely tenting out my robe, and there was more laughter. It was different, a little nervous sounding.

"Well there we go," Auntie said. "It's erotic art, and our model is ready."

Auntie nodded at me and I took off my robe.

There were whispered gasps like there were the week before, barely audible. My skin tingled from the attention, and my brain tingled, too.

"

God

. I'll never get used to that," Ginette said, staring at my full erection.

"Sure you will," Auntie said to her. "You'll be an old pro in a week or two."

Auntie took my hand and smiled softly. We stepped onto the little stage and climbed onto the bed. A roomful of curious eyes were on us, wondering what we were going to do.

Auntie propped some pillows, on her knees, with her breasts hanging. I loved seeing them like that, but I was wishing I could see her ass in that position, barely covered by the tiny, flimsy, red lace panties. The women had that view, but I don't know how many of them were focused on it.

Auntie lay me back against the pillows, posing me with my legs outstretched, and then she joined me, lying on her side on the opposite side of me from the women, leaning in against me. One of her legs bent at the knee and came to rest on mine, with the warmth of her thigh near my cock. My arm was around her, and she rested her head on my shoulder. Her warm breasts were against me, the full weight of one of them resting on my lower chest. Her hand went to my cock and I heard whispered gasps from our audience when her fingers wrapped around it. She lifted it upright, like she was ready to give a handjob. I'd stayed pretty hard through the posing process, but suddenly I was harder. The last inch of my length only shows up when things are good. Every millimeter was there when she had me in her hand.