For quite some time I have written stories for my own enjoyment. This is my very favourite that I've reworked a bit and given a proper ending in the hope that others may enjoy it too. A bit of a slow tease to get you going, but I think it does cook and has a twist at the end.
Please note
1 This is a story of persuasion and seduction, NOT of coercion which I have no wish to condone or encourage.
2 I never fancied an aunt of my own in this way -- but the idea of a mature desirable woman also being an aunt lends an added naughtiness to MILF fantasies.
3 It also widens the scope for potential scenarios. It's the scenario, almost the pre-foreplay that I like to imagine.
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John had graduated from college and after chilling out for a week he had offered to visit his Aunt Stella for a week or so to do some decorating for her. Until two years ago his Aunt Stella had been married to his uncle Tony, his mother's brother.
She had remained on friendly terms with his parents since the divorce, and John had fancied her for ages. She was really grateful for his offer to help her and insisted that he should not spend all day every day decorating, anxious that he should also have some time to relax after his gruelling final term at college.
She was forty-seven years old, and although she was not positively slim, neither was she fat. She worked mornings and on his first day he had looked through her wardrobe and clothes. She was a (UK) size 16, and according to her bra she was a 38C. Her height was around five feet eight. Her height and the way she bore herself gave her something of a statuesque appearance. She always dressed smartly and her blond hair was immaculately groomed and lacquered and stood off her head a little. Her legs were long and, although not slender, they were in proportion to the rest of her and still quite shapely. They looked equally good bear or in tights which were usually pale brown or tan. When they were together he found it hard to act casual and to resist the constant urge to look at her body.
In addition to her appearance he found being in the house alone with his aunt intimate, and her constant closeness was arousing. The fact that she was dressing, undressing or showering in the room next to his gave him repeated erections, and he found himself masturbating at least twice a day as he thought of her. For the first three days he had toyed with the idea of making a move. At last, after another sleepless night and despite the possible consequences if she told his parents, he had made up his mind to risk all.
His heart was pounding in his chest as the time for her arrival home from work drew near. He was very apprehensive and was still trying to argue down his fears and doubts.
At last he heard the car pull up outside. He was half-hard and felt a twinge in his underpants as he heard her footsteps on the drive, heard her open the door and call "Hi." He tried to sound casual as he called back. She went into the dining room to see how far he had got with painting, then went into the kitchen and a few minutes later came into the lounge with a glass of fresh fruit juice. She was smartly dressed in a white blouse and a grey calf-length skirt.
He glanced up from the newspaper -- strategically held to cover the bulge in his trousers -- as she entered the lounge. She sat on the sofa opposite him and smiled. He smiled back and glanced quickly at her ample breasts.
"You've got all that painting done John. It's looking really good. I relay do appreciate you giving up your time to help me out.
He could make out the lace of her bra against her blouse and, as he looked furtively again, he could just discern her nipples. Although her skirt reached below her knee it retreated as she crossed her leg, and her pale, bare legs looked good below her hem.
"That's fine, Auntie. I don't mind. It's a pleasure."
She smiled again.
"What a shame it's raining, John. I was thinking we could have gone out for a drive. It looks as though we'll have to stay in, though."
"Never mind, Auntie."
Again he sneaked a look at her ample breasts under her blouse as they rose and fell with her breathing. Her blouse was just buttoned high enough to reveal the top of her cleft. He steeled himself as he spoke again. He gave a little laugh.
"We'll have to play 'I-spy' or something like we did when I was a boy."
She too gave a soft laugh.
"You used to love playing that, John. We had to play it for an hour or so each time."
"Okay Auntie. I-spy with my little eye... something beginning with 'b'."
Her puzzled expression gave way to a smile.
"Oh, alright then, John... er... bookcase?"
"No."
"Er... book?"
"No."
He rose from his chair and walked across the room as casually as he could. He smiled and sat on the arm of the sofa beside her.
"Bowl? I mean the fruit bowl," she added.
He smiled, still trying hard to appear calm, and shook his head. He glanced swiftly inside her blouse at the pale tops of her orbs and at her lacy white bra.
"Banana?" she guessed again.
"No. I-spy with my little eye, something beginning with 'b'..."
With a slow, smooth movement he cupped his aunt's breast and stroked it through her thin cotton blouse. Her firm orb gave way slightly to his touch, and he gazed at his hand as he held it.
She thrust his hand away and her eyes flashed with shock and anger.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, JOHN?"