Chapter Two – My Slut
My dreams are loaded, sick; it must be drugs. They are a young man's dreams. They flow as a thick river of pearl jam across the face of reasonability and hang in long drips from the lips of truth. I can only assume that circumstances are as they should be and I have no business questioning what "is" because it could only be something else, something bad; something evil. This is pure, unclouded, tender, secret. If it ended today, and I never saw her again, the memory of my only experience with her would sustain me. No, it wouldn't. I have to see her again. I need her. I want her. I've got to have her again. She's more addictive than heroin. Sweet Rayne. Thoughts of her had given me wood. I get hard just thinking about her. She gets me hard; Rayne hard. The phone rang.
It was aunt Rayne, calling to let me know that we had the perfect opportunity to see each other again. My joy knew no bounds. Her husband was in Raleigh, North Carolina for the week. It had been two weeks since Thanksgiving and my first time with my sexy, luscious, slutty aunt. I was more than ready to see her again. She said she was having some girlfriends over until about 4:00 so I should get there a few minutes past. When I arrived, three good-looking women were walking down as I was going up, and squeezing by them on the narrow stairway, I could smell their perfumes. They were three sexy babes and I wondered if these were Rayne's girlfriends.
She called out in response to my knock, "Come in." At the first sight of her, I wanted her. I wanted to touch her; her skin, her tits, her pussy. She was finishing up the dishes. She wore a light blue housedress that hid her shape but her broad ass was apparent and I wanted to feel it. I wanted to see her pussy. I walked up to her and as she dried her hands, having finished her chore, she said, "Well, everyone else is gone. You must have passed them on the stairs."
"So, that was your girlfriends."
"Did they smell good?"
"Yeah."
"That was them. We were trying perfumes. Smell my neck."
I buried my face in her naturally blond hair and drew a draught of her scent. I had never inhaled anything as potent and intoxicating. I almost fell over. I nibbled her neck and gently bit and sucked on her ear lobe. She hummed and said, "Ohhh my, you do know how to touch a woman." She made a long, low humming sound, and then she asked, "Do you know how sensual whispering is?"
"Yes, I do," I whispered in her ear.
"Let's whisper everything today," she whispered back.
"And you know how to please a man, you fucking slut." It was not as dirty when whispered, but it was much more erotic and we both loved it. Our conversation continued, whispered.
"Do you think I'm a slut?"
"It's not what I think, it's what I know, slut."
"I do like to be a slut. Just thinking about being a slut really turns me on. Do you want me to be a slut? Your slut? If you really want me to, I'll be your slut. Call me a slut and tell me what to do."
"You slut."
"Tell me you want me to be your slut."
"I want you to be my slut."
"Make it dirty."
"I want you to be my little slut fuck girl."
"I will be a slut for you. I want to be your slut fuck girl."
"I want to call you a cunt?"
"You can call me anything you want. Even a cunt."
"You cunt, I want you to be my cunt slut girl."
