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22-11-2023, 11:33 AM
(This post was last modified: 23-11-2023, 02:55 PM by neerathemall. Edited 2 times in total. Edited 2 times in total.)
जिंदगी की राहों में रंजो गम के मेले हैं.
भीड़ है क़यामत की फिर भी हम अकेले हैं.
Posts: 84,363
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23-11-2023, 02:54 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-12-2023, 06:10 PM by neerathemall. Edited 3 times in total. Edited 3 times in total.)
THE DEVIL IN AUNT DEE
In hindsight, the path of seduction had been clearly marked by bright lights along the road. There was an orange sign that said, "Dangerous Curves Ahead". The door of the house on Walnut Street had a neon "Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter" sign blinking over it. But sometimes the lure of transgression is strong. To strong. We can blame curiosity. We can blame lust. The secret, silent, thrill of the forbidden and the taboo has sirens call that draws us in. It starts innocently enough, a lingering gaze, a casual touch, a forbidden picture. It ends in screams of pleasure, regardless of who seduces who. It ends in a question. Who is the Devil in Aunt Dee?
Aunt Dee was his mother's younger sister, younger by three years. She'd moved east from their small midwestern town in Illinois in her late teens following some indescribable scandal, and so was a distant figure through his youth, spoken of, seen in pictures, heard on the phone. When the relatives gathered and talked of Aunt Dee, at some point in the conversation someone would say, "Well, she had a devil inside her, that's for sure."
He'd always wondered what that meant. When he'd left home, he'd gone to a private college just outside of Boston. Aunt Dee lived three small towns over, an hour's bus ride away, and she made it a point to invite him over for lunch or dinner on weekends, or to spend the night when his roommates were away, so he wouldn't be lonely or homesick. He'd grown to love those weekends.
Aunt Dee was a physical force, from the sweet scent of her honey blond hair on down. She stood just a hair over five foot four inches, all feminine grace. Her body was full and sensuous, always well-dressed, always moving in small, graceful ways that draw the eye and fire the imagination. Her shirt was always open that one extra button, showing a few inches of warm and inviting cleavage.
When she hugged him in greeting the embrace was always tight, enveloping him in her scent and the warmth of her body. When she walked beside him, she would loop her arm through his, so that she was pressed against him, her body bumping into him, or sliding along his. When she sat opposite him, she would watch him speaking, giving him her full attention, seemingly basking in his presence. When she sat next to him, she would sit close, sometimes leaning into him, so her softness was always present. When they were together, she would always find an excuse to touch him, to place her hand upon his knee or his thigh, to pat his chest, to rub his stomach, to caress his hands.
She was a gracious host. On one of the early visits, she'd given him an album of family photos. It was mostly innocent. Pictures of her and his mother growing up, pictures of the extended family, pictures of small-town life. One night, back in his dorm room, as he sat watching TV and casually looking through the album, he discovered a lone picture. It was tucked in behind another picture, as if it was left behind accidentally when the album was loaded with family images.
It was a picture of Aunt Dee standing there, head tilted down and to the side, a sly look on her face. She was gazing directly into the camera, as if she was challenging the unseen photographer. She was wearing a faded blue denim shirt, tied at the waist, otherwise open down the front. The full curve of her right breast could be seen, a beautiful globe, tanned and luxurious. Her left breast was similar, but more exposed. The hard point of her brown nipple peeked out from the open front of denim. The smooth and muscular planes of her abdomen were taut, the ridges of muscle slightly shadowed. She was wearing a pair of simple white lace panties. The dark shadow of pubic hair visible, the faintest outline of her pussy lips a tantalizing promise of sexuality.
It was the sort of picture taken by and shared with a lover. The pose was sexual and defiant. That night, in the quiet darkness of his college dorm room, he masturbated to the picture. As he lay there stroking his cock, long, thick, and hard, he imagined himself fucking his Aunt, his mother's sister, in the missionary position. In his imagination he could heard her voice, moaning in pleasure as he impaled her, pumping in and out, his cock slick with her juices. When he came, he shot streams of white sperm across the planes of his own abdomen, a thick load, creamy and full.
For three nights, the picture of Aunt Dee was his last night companion. Each night he would masturbate before he fell asleep, imagining her body as revealed in the picture, twisting, and turning under him. He would imagine her voice, whispering "Fuck me." softly in his ear, or moaning into the night. He would imagine the feel of her nipple, the softness of her breast under his hand, or her taste upon his tongue.
When he first went to visit her after the discovery of the picture, he'd found himself acutely aware of her sensuousness. He found himself blushing without warning. She caught him once and asked him about it. He never could remember what he told her, but he made some innocent excuse and blushed deeper. She thought it was cute. He couldn't be sure it wasn't his imagination, but he thought she started teasing him a bit more. More lingering touches. More casual brushes of her body when she moved past him, lingering a bit longer when she hugged him.
She did his laundry over the weekend. While she did, he imagined her finding his fitted cotton boxer shorts and found himself blushing again, imagining her holding them and raising them to her face to smell them before throwing them in the washing machine. He wondered if he was going crazy as his sexual obsession with her took hold. He still hadn't seen or met the Devil in Aunt Dee, but her sexuality was like her perfume, always present, always a beautiful distraction.
On the bus ride home after the weekend he convinced himself it was all his fevered mind working overtime, that he was becoming obsessed with her because he was a young man and the tangle of lust and desire was never far from the forefront of his imagination. He managed to chuckle at his own folly when he unpacked his bag, placing his clothes back into the dresser and wardrobe in his college dorm room.
Something small and delicate and pink fell from his laundry bag. He bent over and picked it up. It was a pair of soft pink French cut panties, with a tiny rose at the front. He was instantly hard. He glanced nervously around to make sure no one was watching. Then he unfolded them and held them up to inspect them closely. How had they ended up with his laundry? Had they been in the washer or dryer and inadvertently become tangled with his clothes when she repacked his bag?
He held them to his face and drew in the scent. They smelled of Aunt Dee, faintly, her perfume and some other, muskier scent. He imagined her standing in the laundry room, glancing out to make sure he was still in the living room, and then swiftly pulling them down and stepping out of them before slipping them in amongst his clothes.
That night, as he lay in bed, stroking his cock, he imagined that scenario, over and over, her peeling her panties down, slipping them into his bag, until he neared his orgasm. Then, holding them to his face, inhaling that faint scent, he came and he came hard. His cum was a jet of warmth that shot up across his chest before pulsing again and again onto his stomach.
It was three or four weeks of preparing for spring finals before he made it back over to see her. During that time, he thought of her almost constantly, so much so it distracted him from his studies. It took all his willpower to put the panties and the picture away and focus on the upcoming tests. With finals week fast approaching she invited him over for the long weekend before they started. He almost didn't go, but convinced himself he needed the break. When he called her to confirm he was coming, she told him to bring a pair of swim trunks because, with spring unfolding, she'd opened her pool. She told him that she'd enjoyed doing laundry for him on the previous visit, so to be sure and bring his dirty laundry.
He spent that night imagining her, in a variety of swimsuits, swimming and lounging about. The mental images distracted him and aroused him. At near midnight he found himself laying on top of his sheets, naked, his lean body trembling, panties in his fist and his fist wrapped around his cock, again, slowly stroking it, feeling the silk slide over his cock, just barely grazing it in his loose grip.
So engrossed in the sensation was he that when he came, he came with little or no warning. One moment lost in the feel of her panties, the next pulsating waves of cum pouring from his cock. Without intending to, he came on the panties, accidentally staining them with a healthy spurt of sperm.
The next morning, as he packed his overnight bag and his laundry bag, he remembered to slip his swim trunks in and, on impulse, a pair of his competition speedos. He stood over his laundry bag for a long time, holding the cum-stained panties. Part of him wanted to slip them back into his drawer. Part of him said it was an innocent mistake and she'd see what he had done to them, find it weird and creepy, and cast him out of her life. Another part of him said no, it wasn't a mistake, she'd wanted him to find the panties, she'd deliberately slipped them into his bag. Returning them in their cum-stained condition would tell her he'd found them and used them to pleasure himself.
He'd managed to convince himself to leave them behind. Then, at the last moment, impulsively, he neatly tucked them into the corner of the laundry bag, zipped it shut, and headed out the door for the short walk to the university bus depot. On the hour-long ride over he obsessed about the panties and at the last minute, pulled them discretely out of his laundry bag and slipped them into his jacket pocket.
That evening, once they'd had a simple pasta and chicken dinner, they took a swim. The swimming pool, in the backyard of the house, was small. The water was warm and comfortable. He wore the swimming trunks he'd packed, black and boxer style. Aunt Dee wore a pale blue one piece. They spent the evening around the pool area, laughing, talking, and periodically slipping into the pool to splash around as the evening slowly faded to night.
He tried not to stare at her body. He tried, unsuccessfully, not to imagine her from the picture or imagine her in pink panties. He tried, mostly successfully, not to let his arousal show, though there were times when his cock, half erect, pressed against the front of his swimsuit. When her nipples, hard from the water or the cool breeze, pressed through the front of her one piece he tried not to stare, but when she was looking away, his eyes would roam over the feminine curves of her body.
Aunt Dee complimented him on his form several times. Simple compliments about his muscles, about his overall appearance. As usual, she found multiple excuses to touch him. She had her hand over his biceps, gave them a little squeeze. She admired his shoulders, broad and muscular, running her hands across them. Once, as they sat side by side at the edge of the pool, she seemed to unconsciously drop her hand to his thigh, caress it once or twice, and give it a small squeeze.
In the pool she was even more physical. Swimming up to him and playfully trying to dunk him under the water, her body rising and then sliding down his as she tried to push him down. Coming up behind him and mounting his back, her breasts pressed against him, her thighs wrapped around his waist, asking him, no, commanding him, to give her a ride while swimming. As they mock wrestled in the pool, her hands roamed over his slick form, seeking purchase, and caressing him. Several times she brushed against his erection, hidden under water, but she never mentioned it. Once she lingered, pressed against him, his erection pressed against her ass, and then slowly slipped away.
While they wrestled in the water, she twisted and slipped, trying to pull away, and he ended up with his hand firmly grasping her by her soft left breast. She gasped as he squeezed hard, trying to get a purchase on her, and realizing that he had her full breast tight in his grip, he swiftly let go. She pulled away for a second and, seemingly embarrassed, adjusted her suit and regained her composure, looking slightly flustered.
After the evening of swimming, after they had watched a movie, and both gone to their bedrooms to sleep, he lay awake and quietly, soundlessly, masturbated twice. His imagination was rich with the bodily contact of the swimming session, with images of her, wet in the one piece, her honey blond hair slicked down. He came the first time, found he was still erect, and came a second time.
Later in the night, somewhere around 2:00 AM, something woke him up. Uncertain, he lay there in the darkness, wondering what had pulled him from his sleep, and he swore he heard a single, deep, protracted moan, and then silence. He wasn't sure if he had heard anything or if it had simply been his imagination. He strained against the silence, listening carefully, but no other sounds echoed through the house. He masturbated a third time. This time, when he came, he moaned once, soft, and deep.
Saturday dawned bright and clear. When he woke, showered, and ventured downstairs, Aunt Dee was already up and making breakfast. She was dressed for the sunny day, wearing a light, gauzy, wrap and a two-tone pink bikini, the top cupping her breasts and the bottoms barely visible through the translucent fabric. Breakfast was strawberry waffles, eggs over easy, bacon and toasted English muffins, with butter and jam. He'd dressed that morning in khaki shorts and a faded black T-shirt.
Over breakfast conversation, Aunt Dee mentioned that she had started his laundry and she had a question for him. When he told her to go ahead and ask it, she disappeared into the laundry room for a minute and then came back, holding something behind her.
"Why," she asked, a sly grin crossing her face, "did you not wear these yesterday?"
She pulled her hand from behind her back and held up his competition speedo. She hooked a thumb through each leg and spread them out. She looked from the speedos, to him, and back again with a slow, deliberate expression. Then she quizzically cocked one eyebrow.
He blushed uncontrollably.
"I didn't want to scare you," he replied, unable to look her in the face.
Her laughter was light and musical. "Well," she said, "when we finish breakfast go put them on and let's hit the pool for a morning swim, it won't be the first speedo I've seen."
He nodded in agreement, still blushing.
"You've got a beautiful body," she told him, "Don't be afraid to show it to the world. Trust me when I tell you that, though some women will voice some puritanical displeasure, they're all going to be looking. Besides, you never know when you're going to take a place in some idle, married, bored woman's fantasy line up."
After breakfast, they did dishes side by side. She glided around him, brushing against him, gently pushing him into the counter, bumping him with her hip to move him aside, placing her hand in the small of his back to move him this way or that. He did the same, guiding her body this way and that as they maneuvered around the kitchen sink. For the first time, he let his hands linger on her body, returned the casual caresses of her arms, her shoulders, her back. Once, he brushed a stray strand of her hair out of her eyes and for a long moment stared into their green depths. When they finished dishes she suddenly and playfully slapped him on the ass and told him to go get into his speedo and meet her at the pool.
He took the speedo into the bathroom and changed into it. His cock was three quarters erect and it was a tight fit. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. There was no hiding the prominent bulge. He tried to will it down. His cock did not obey. He took a deep breath, then another. He felt as if he was floating, his mind a tangle of arousal and adrenaline. Several deeper breaths and he was quietly, surreally, floating. He turned and walked through the house, out through the door, and into the pool area. He was immensely conscious of how he was dressed, the skintight swimsuit tightly clinging to his cock and balls.
Aunt Dee was waiting in the pool area, sitting on one of the loungers. Her green eyes watched him carefully as he strode out, crossed the pavers, and stopped in front of her. She looked him up and down slowly, carefully.
"How are you feeling?"
He took a deep breath.
"Exposed," he answered honestly.
She laughed lightly.
"Now you know how a woman feels in a bikini," she said, "That tangle of sexy and exposed. For what it's worth, you're beautiful."
Then, she turned, dropped her wrap, and dove into the pool. He had a brief flash of her round ass and the narrow pink wedge of the bikini bottoms as she disappeared under the water. He took a few steps and dove in after her, the shock of the water embracing him and cascading over him. They surfaced at the same time and she swam toward him, stopping a few feet in front of him. Her eyes were bright, and she gave him a wicked smile.
"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"It's not the first time I've worn them," he said, "Just the first time I wore them in front of my Aunt."
She treaded water.
"How does that make you feel, knowing that I am your Aunt?"
"Honestly," he replied, "It's a combination of self-conscious and aroused. I know you're my Aunt and it's supposed to be wrong, but at the same time, my body responds to your body, and I don't think our bodies know you're related to me."
"Oh," she said, "do you think my body is responding to yours?"
He started to blush then, aware that under the cover of the water his cock had gone to full erection and was straining against the tight confirms of the swimsuit. She held the silence for a long time, waiting for his answer, her wicked grin of anticipation unchanged. She closed the distance between them and pressed her warm body against him. Her slowly moving thigh brushed against his cock and he nearly came.
She leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "I imagine how hard you are right now nephew."
Then she laughed and turned and swam away from him.
They frolicked in the pool for the next hour so, swimming, splashing each other, playing an impromptu game of tag. Finally, she turned, swam a few strokes to the ladder, and climbed out of the pool. He watched her slick body rise from the cover of the pool, the water cascading off it. He watched the slight sway of her breasts, bound by the bikini top, and the curving, flexing, hypnotic sway of her ass as she climbed the ladder onto the deck.
She picked up one of the plush, white, Turkish cotton towels and quickly dried her face, then squeezed some of the water out of her honey blond hair. She gestured to him to come out of the pool, beckoning him.
He swam to the ladder and pulled himself up with a strong flex of his arms and a few quick steps. She held up the towel.
"Help me dry off," she said.
Was it his imagination or was there a change in the tone of her voice? Something slightly deeper and a little husky.
She turned her back on him after she handed him the towel. He hesitated for a moment and then began to wipe the water from her shoulders, all the way down to the small of her back. She held her left arm out. He carefully dried it off, then repeated the process on her raised right arm.
"Left leg," she said. This time he was certain, her voice was different, deeper, huskier with a slight tremelo.
He squatted and, using both hands, slid the thick towel downward to her ankles, and then back up.
"Right leg," she said. He repeated the process, slowing down slightly, making it more of a long, lingering caress.
Thanks for your
जिंदगी की राहों में रंजो गम के मेले हैं.
भीड़ है क़यामत की फिर भी हम अकेले हैं.
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She turned to face him. Her hard nipples pressed through the thin fabric of her bikini top. Her expression was serious and thoughtful. She raised her head. He carefully dried off her neck and shoulders. She reached behind herself and untied the string that held the bikini in place. It took her just a moment to shrug out of it. Her breasts were beautiful, full, and round, topped by her hard, dark nipples. She made eye contact and nodded. Using both hands, he carefully dried the water from her torso, feeling the soft fullness of her breasts as he did so. Her nipples puckered even further as his towel shrouded hands moved over them. He felt like he was floating as he stood in front of her, cupping and lifting both breasts.
He moved the towel down her abdomen, soaking up the water there, feeling the muscles rippling with her breath. She stripped off the bikini bottom, then met his eyes again. He carefully dried off her pelvic area, feeling the softness of her pussy as he moved the towel over it. Her pubic hair was barely there, cut to maybe an eighth of an inch, just a light dusting of honey blond hair. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths as he gently spun her around and dried the full globes of her ass.
She leaned over and picked up the wrap. It took her a moment to wrap it around herself, tying the ends together in a knot above her breasts. The material flowed over her body like a liquid sheet, clinging and translucent. She picked up another of the Turkish towels and gestured for him to turn around. She dried his back and shoulders carefully, then his raised arms and legs. He stood there, still as a statue, completely lost to the feel of her hands inside the towel, sliding over his body.
"Turn around," she told him.
He turned around and she repeated the flow, over his neck, his arms, his chest, his abdomen. His eyes closed, concentrated on his breath, deep breaths, in and out.
"Take off the swimsuit," she said.
He stripped it down over his legs and stepped out it.
"Spread your legs nephew," she said, then suddenly exclaimed, "Oh my god, it feels so dirty saying that."
She knelt and dried his erect cock and his tight balls. He twitched, but by a supreme act of will did not cum. She had him turn around and she carefully dried the globe of his ass. Then, she wrapped the towel around his waist and tied it in a knot at the hip.
She wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him tightly, her body molding to his. His cock, hard, pressed against her soft belly and he could feel her breathing through it, the small rise and fall of her stomach.
"Did you find my gift?" she asked.
"Yes," he answered.
"And what did you do with them?"
"I smelled them," he replied.
"Is that all?"
"No," he said, "I used them to masturbate."
She drew a deep breath.
"Oh my god, that is so fucking hot. I hoped you would. I imagined it. I dreamed about it."
She reached under the towel and took his hard cock into her small cool hand.
"This is wrong," she said, "So wrong. You're my nephew, I'm your Aunt. We shouldn't be doing this; we shouldn't think of each other this way. But, God, I can't help it."
All the while her hand was softly, slowly, pulling at his cock, stroking it, squeezing it.
Her voice was a small whimper.
"Is it wrong that I want to fuck you? That I want to feel this cock sliding into me, stretching me open, reaching deep inside of me?"
"Yes," he replied, "It's wrong, it's very wrong, but I want the same thing. I want to fuck you, and I want to fuck your senseless, in all ways, in all positions, I want you to scream and cry out and moan and cum, over and over again."
Her stroke stopped and she squeezed his cock tightly with a pulsing grip. He could feel her heaving breath against him.
He reached up and took her by the chin, tipping her head back until those soft green eyes, full of her want and need, were locked on his.
"This is so fucking wrong Aunt Dee, but I don't care. I've got to have you. Please? Please let me fuck you."
Then he bent down slightly and kissed her on the lips, slow, soft, deep, and full. Her mouth opened and his tongue slipped inside and found hers. They kissed passionately, tongues darting in and out of each other's mouths, lips caressing and nipping, wet and hungry.
"Please," she gasped, "Please fuck me nephew."
She stroked his cock again.
"God, your cock is so hard, it's like it's carved from stone. Please fuck me. Please put it in me. Please make me cum for you. Make your Aunt cum for you, make your Aunt cum on your cock, make your Aunt moan and beg to be fucked by you."
He stripped the wrap from her and then a moment later dropped his towel. They were both standing naked in the sunlight, bodies pressed tightly together, the slow rhythm of her stroking hand pulling at his cock, their bodies softly gleaming in the sun.
He slide a hand between their bodies, down her abdomen to her pussy. He lightly caressed her clit, small and hard. She shuddered and moaned. He made small circles with his fingertip, sliding over it, rotating around it. She moaned again, ragged and deep.
"Oh god," she said, "Oh god, oh god."
He moved his hand down a bit further, extending his middle finger to slide between the lips of her pussy. She whimpered. He felt her wetness then, her juices sliding across his finger. He smeared them around. He curled his middle finger and it slipped easily into her.
"Oh my god," she said, "This is so wrong, my nephew is fingering my cunt. My own nephew is finger-fucking me. What are we doing? Don't stop. Please god, don't stop. Finger-fuck your Aunt. Finger me, just like that, oh please, just like that."
Her breath was a ragged in and out while he fingered her, first one finger, then another, penetrating her, twisting, and turning, plunging in and out. Her whimpering moan was constant, rich in passion and wanton in need.
"Please," she begged, "Please fuck me. I need your cock. I need it inside of me nephew. Push it in. Please, oh god, please fuck me."
He backed her across the deck to the lounger and eased her down on it, his fingers never stopping. When her back landed firmly on the lounger, her legs came up, spreading around him, opening widely. "Please fuck me, she said, oh god, please fuck me. I need your cock in me. I need it, I need it, I need it."
He adjusted his position, bending his knees until the head of his cock was at the entrance to her pussy. Only then did he pull his fingers out. They were dripping. He smeared them on the head of his cock.
She guided him into position. He advanced his hips slightly, pressing the swollen head of his cock against the soft opening of her pussy. She squeezed down hard and popped it back out.
"No, no, no," she said, "You're big, you're big, you have to force it in."
He drew in a deep breath.
"Aunt Dee," he said, "I'm sorry, but I can barely control myself. I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you hard and rough. This is so wrong, but I can't stop, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock, I need it so badly."
"Yes, yes," she whimpered, "Make me, make me take it hard, fuck me hard, I want it, I need it too, I need it so badly."
He grabbed her firmly by the ass, holding her in place, lifting her slightly, and he plunged into her. She was tight. The natural resistance of her pussy was inexorably battered aside as his cock speared into her, aided by her natural juices, but still a shaft of stone forcing her to stretch, forcing her to accommodate it.
She cried out like an animal. He grunted like a beast and forced it further into her. She thrashed and tried to escape. He held onto her, his fingers digging deep into her ass cheeks. He tightened his grip and thrust again, penetrating her deeper. Her cry was continuous. With a final thrust he felt his cock reach it's full length inside of her tight pussy. He looked down. The lips of her cunt had a tight grip around the base of his cock. He rotated his hips around, stirring it inside of her, as she settled into a deeper moan.
"Oh god," she said, "Oh god, you're deep, you're too deep, it hurts nephew, it hurts!"
He held it in place, slowly rotating his hips, stretching her pussy further open. She moaned and twisted about under him.
"You're tight Aunt Dee," he said, "Fuck but you're tight. Your little pussy has my cock gripped so tightly I can barely move it."
He leaned down and whispered into her ear. "I know it hurts Aunt Dee, but I am going to fuck you like an animal. You can do it. You can take it."
He pulled his cock back, all the way back, until just the head remained inside her. Then, he put his weight behind it and rammed it back in. Her scream was incoherent, and she tried to twist away from him, but his grip on her was like iron, holding her in place. He did it again, pulled all the way back until just the head was between her pussy lips, and then plunged it back in. He fucked her in long, slow, deep strokes, each one nearly all the way out before it ripped back into her. She grunted and screamed on each thrust.
He gradually increased his speed, his hips hollowing on each deep thrust. Slowly, he began to build speed, thrusting faster and faster, until he was fucking her like an animal, plunging in and out of her, her tight pussy finally opening under the onslaught of his long and thick cock. She was incoherent, crying, babbling, her screaming moans begging him to stop, begging him to not stop, calling him nephew again and again, asking him for mercy, telling him to fuck her harder. He responded with his own grunting, groaning, and moaning, telling her he was going fuck her, even if she was his Aunt, he was going to fuck her as hard as he wanted, as long as he wanted, until he was done with her, until he'd filled her with his cum over and over.
Her first orgasm shot through her body like a bolt of electricity. Suddenly she went rigid under him, her body taut, her back bending, thrusting her breasts upward, her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him into her, she cried out, and then started shaking. He came inside of her, inside the tight grip of her pulsating pussy, pouring cum into her, feeling it cascade from his body into hers. Her eyes popped open and for a moment she was staring directly into his eyes, then they slowly rolled up and back, and she lost consciousness.
He slowly pulled his cum covered cock out of her, it's length glistening and smeared in white. He stood over her, breathing deeply, looking down at her, as she slowly regained consciousness, looking around confusedly before rolling to her side and drawing her legs up into a fetal position. She was crying, trying to recover. He stood there, watching her body tremble.
How long passed neither of them could say. She lay there trembling. He stood there over her, his cum covered cock still hard, standing erect, an occasional pulse sending a small bit of cum out of the tip to cascade down the shaft. When her trembling stopped, he suddenly reached down, grabbed her by the hips and flipped her over, onto her knees, her ass in the air. She moaned, nodding her head with a jerky motion. Her pussy was still slightly gaped, rivulets of cum dripping out, falling on the lounger.
He fitted his head, grabbed her firmly by the hips, and plunged back into her. She screamed. He began to pump in and out, hard, deep thrusts that shook her body. She grunted and groaned on each thrust, babbling again.
He reached down, scoped up some of their cum, and smeared it over her tight little anus. She felt the pressure and snapped her head around, looking wide-eyed at him. Thrusting his cock in and out her cunt, slowly and methodically, he waited until she gave him a sudden nod her head. He pressed his index finger into her ass, all the way to the knuckle.
She screamed and went rigid for a long moment, her entire body tight and frozen. He held the finger there, deep inside of her, until he felt her anus start to relax. She looked over her shoulder, made eye contact, and nodded again. He started to finger-fuck her ass, sliding his finger in and out, twisting it around, all the while rocking his thick cock in and out of her pussy. She dropped her head to the lounger and moaned deeply into the pad.
"Oh my god," she suddenly said, "My nephew has a finger in my ass and his cock in my cunt. Oh god, oh god, oh god."
He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Aunt Dee, your nephew is going to fuck you in the ass."
Her head snapped up and she looked over her shoulder again.
"Your cock, your cock, your cock," she babbled, "It's too big, it won't fit, it will tear me apart."
"No Aunt Dee," he replied, "It will fit. It will hurt some, but it will fit."
He slipped a second finger into her ass, slowly opening it. She moaned again, burying her face back in the lounger and squeezing tightly to the frame. Two fingers slid in and out of her ass while his cock continued it's slow, methodical plunging into her cunt from behind.
Her head snapped back up and she turned to look at him as he slid his third finger into her ass.
He leaned forward again to whisper in her ear. "Almost there Aunt Dee, almost there."
He twisted his fingers, as her mouth opened in a silent oh.
"Your ass is tight Aunt Dee, have you ever been fucked in your ass?"
She shook her head, a certain wildness in her eyes.
"Good," he said, "Your nephew is going to be the first man to fuck you in the ass. Do you think nephews should fuck their Aunts; do you think nephews should be first one to take their Aunts anal virginity?"
She shook her head.
"Do you want it, Aunt Dee? Do you want your nephews hard, thick, long cock in your ass?"
She nodded.
"Yes," she gasped, "Yes, fuck my ass nephew. I want you to do it. I want you to fuck my ass with your cock. I want it inside of me, stretching me open, filling me up. Oh god nephew, I can't believe it, but I want you in my ass, please, please nephew, fuck my ass. Split me open, fill me up, make me scream. Sodomize me, please sodomize me."
He moved backward, pulling his long cock from her cunt. He reached down, slipped two fingers from his other hand into her dripping cunt, then pulled out the combination of his and hers cum and smeared it over the head of his cock. He twisted his three fingers inside of her and she moaned deeply. He slipped his three fingers from her stretched anus, placed the head of his cock against the gaping opening, and then leaned forward to push just the head into her ass. Her head snapped up again, her eyes wide as she looked over her shoulder at him. He froze for a moment, eyes locked on her eyes, until she nodded once.
He pressed into her ass. Her pussy had been tight, but her ass was even tighter. His pressure was slow, steady, and inexorable. She felt it stretching her anus open. It hurt like fire, and she moaned. He kept up the pressure, opening her slowly, easing the head of his cock into her. She whimpered as he stretched her sphincter wider and wider. Just when she thought she couldn't take any more she felt something shift in her and she felt her ass open. The long thickness of his cock slithered into her.
"Oh my god," she said, "Oh my god, I've got a cock in my ass! I've got my nephews cock in my ass. This is wrong, this is so wrong."
"Do you want to stop Aunt Dee, do you want me to pull it out," he asked, still whispering in her ear.
"No," she moaned, pain and pleasure tangled in her voice, "No, no, no, I want it in me, I want my nephew's cock in my ass, I want it all inside of me."
He pushed forward until his balls nestled against her butt cheeks. Then, he slowly pulled back. Her moaning was constant, the mixture of pleasure and pain overwhelming her. She limply dropped her head back down onto the lounger and he started to slowly fuck her ass, the long length of his cock slipping in and out. He gradually increased the tempo, thrusting harder and faster.
She came then, her body going rigid, twisting and turning as much as she could, her eyes wide open as her first anal orgasm racked her body. He fucked her through the orgasm, which seemed endless to her, wave after wave crashing over her. She felt helpless, limp, tossed about in an ocean of pain and pleasure. He was relentless, fucking her through orgasm after orgasm.
Sometimes she felt his hands on her breasts, squeezing, twisting, and rolling her nipples. Sometimes she felt his hands on her clit, fanning over it, intensifying her orgasm. She felt his hand in her honey blond hair, alternately holding her head up and pressing it down into the lounger. Through it all she felt his cock, driving in and out of her ass.
Sometimes she couldn't hear what he was saying, lost in his grunts and groans. Sometimes she could hear him, hear him whispering nasty, filthy things into her ear.
"My god Aunt Dee, your ass is so fucking tight. I'm deep inside of it, deep inside of you, fucking you like you've never been fucked before. What a sweet little lover you are, getting fucked in broad daylight, in your backyard, by your own nephew. That's your nephew's cock plunging in and out of your ass Aunt Dee, that's your nephew fucking you, making you scream and moan and whimper, making you cum over and over. Do you think your neighbors can hear you? Do you think anyone is watching from the second-floor windows, watching your little body get used by your nephew? Do you want to cum again? Oh, you do, your little clit is so hard, let me squeeze it and twist it. That's it Aunt Dee, cum for your nephew, cum again."
He pounded her ass until his cock was sliding easily in and out, until she knew she was gaping wide open, her body flushed red from her orgasms, her mind lost somewhere in the dense fog and twisting winds of pleasure. She was hoarse from screaming and moaning and crying when he was finally done.
"Now Aunt Dee," he said, "You're being fucked like no one has ever fucked you. Your ass is mine. It belongs to me. Your ass, this sweet ass, it belongs to your nephew."
"Yes," she said, "Yes, it's yours, it's yours, I'm yours. All of me is yours, all yours."
"Good," he said, "Now I need to cum, so let's finish this off, I need to cum so badly."
She felt him pull his cock out of her ass, felt the thick length of it sliding out.
"No, she whimpered, "No put it back, please put it back."
He just laughed softly and rolled her over onto her back. She stared up at him, at his lean frame, drenched and dripping with sweat. He moved up over the lounger, straddling her body, his strong thighs pinning her arms to her sides. He took a handful of hair and tipped her head up. She was so lost in the aftermath of her multiple orgasms, in the incredible sensation of her gaping ass, that for a moment she didn't know what he was up to, didn't know what he wanted.
"They say you've never truly fucked a woman until you've had her three ways -- in her cunt, in her ass, and in her mouth. Open your mouth Aunt Dee. I am going to fuck your mouth and your throat. Can you deep throat a cock Aunt Dee?"
She obediently opened her mouth. Like he had fucked her pussy and her ass, he slowly slid the girth of his cock into her mouth. She felt its thick head and slick length slide across her lips, stretched wide to accommodate it, then across her tongue as she tried to lick it, then into her throat. She felt the thick head pressing down her throat, her green eyes wide open. He started to roll his hips, thrusting his cock in and out of her throat.
She gagged and gasped for air. He pulled it out long enough for her to catch her breath, and then slid it back in. She sucked on it greedily, slurped at it with her tongue, felt its length sliding all the way down her throat, pull back, and then repeat itself. She could feel the drool from her lips running down her throat, smearing over her face. She lay beneath him, pinned down, as he fucked her throat.
जिंदगी की राहों में रंजो गम के मेले हैं.
भीड़ है क़यामत की फिर भी हम अकेले हैं.
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I'm going to cum now Aunt Dee," he said, "Are you ready?"
Her mouth full of cock, her head pinned in place, all she could think of was to blink her eyes at him. He pulled his cock halfway back and came in her mouth. His cock pulsed and she felt the wet, thick, cum jetting into her, pulse after pulse after pulse. She tried to swallow, but it was too much, even as it poured down her throat it filled her mouth, and the thickness of his head pushed it out over her lips on each pump.
She felt his hand reaching back, his fingers finding her still swollen clit and then he gently slapped it. Already incredibly tender from her multiple orgasms, that was all she needed. She came again and again as he lightly slapped her clit and pussy while pumping her mouth full of cum. When the cum finally stopped flowing from him, his hand finally relented and stopped slapping her pussy. Her whole body was trembling from the rapid, small, chain orgasms that rippled through her.
He slid his cum-covered cock out of her mouth.
He reached down and wiped the cum from her mouth as she gasped for breath.
When he lifted his weight from her, she rolled to her side, whimpering softly, her entire body shaking in the aftermath of her orgasms.
She lay there, vaguely aware of his moving around, then she felt the soft weight of the sun-warmed Turkish towel slowly dbanging over her body, felt his firm hands gently toweling her clean. It was as comforting as a massage, gentle and easy, soft and warm.
She whimpered softly in appreciation. Once he had toweled her clean, he tossed the cum-stained towel aside, picked up another, and wrapped her in it, then laid down beside her in the sun, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight and gently against him. She closed her eyes and felt herself drifting into an exhausted sleep.
The last thing she heard as she surrendered to the sweet embrace of sleep was his voice, whispering in her ear.
"The family back in the Midwest always told me Aunt Dee has the devil inside her. Whatever is inside of you that made you put that place behind you, I've got the same devil. Now, I know for a fact that the devil has been inside you Aunt Dee. In your cunt. In your ass. In your mouth. I think I am going to enjoy four years of college. Four more years of fucking you, again and again, in every way imaginable and maybe, well, maybe some you haven't even imagined yet."
Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him.
"Oh," she said, "My beautiful fucking nephew, the devil in me has a great imagination."
Then, she surrendered to sleep.
He gazed down at her for a few minutes, thinking about what she said, and then following her to sleep.
जिंदगी की राहों में रंजो गम के मेले हैं.
भीड़ है क़यामत की फिर भी हम अकेले हैं.
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