Incest/Taboo Aunt Maggie

She began swooshing oil in flourishes and deep tissue squeezes, down his upper legs; applying wonderful pressure to his quadriceps, then his shins, and then on down to his feet. His tootsies received the same tender loving oily treatment as had been given his hands earlier. It was all done with wonderfully deep rubs to the sole with her thumbs and little snapping pops to his toes. He loved it, it was so relaxing and he was surprised how gentle she was as he was normally quite ticklish concerning his feet.

"Right luv," she told him, "turn yourself over. I'm going to get at that back of yours."

He rolled over, now conscious of his wobbly pony cock all flippity floppity and in the way, whilst he tried to merely lie upon his tummy. His auntie seemed to pay no attention to any of it, however.

Yes, he thought, it had all been a trick of his mind. She wasn't up to anything improper. She was just his hippy Auntie Maggie with all her wild free-spirit hippy ways. Whatever he'd seen, it wasn't at all what he'd thought. It was just a trick of the mind playing hell with his hormones and his balls... and his erection. Mind tricks, nothing more.
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******​

Inside the house, Gwennie's eyes blinked in the dim dining room; her face illuminated by the screen of Billy's phone. She scrolled. She dug. She searched. SHE FOUND!

"Hello," she whispered, one hand absentmindedly finding a nipple through her blouse, "oh yes, he is SUCH a naughty one!"

Her eyes lit up even brighter than the screen with tumultuous excitement. She ran her tongue ran across her lips. She scrolled and looked and dug deeper.

"Oh yes," she said to no one in particular, "a naughty one indeed. He'll get on fine with us... a marvelous fit, even!"
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******​

Billy felt the swooshing push of his Auntie's fingers at the middle of his spine. It was all lovely flourishes and heavy greasy shoves; deep into his back and spine, as if he were a lump of dough she was preparing for the oven. She'd swoop down with powerful weight-trained arms and he'd feel her fingertips sink oooooh so deep into his flesh; forcing every last bit of air from his lungs with a great Ooommph! by him. These shoves were each followed by the pleasing tug and pull of her fingers, (which gathered his flesh in bunches as if she were attempting to roll him up like a bit of parchment). More OOOmmphs left his lungs and although he knew she needn't do all this to merely put sun oil upon him, it was far too relaxing, (and he most certainly was NOT about to stop her).

Every now and again he'd feel those fingers trace ever so lightly along his flesh in just the lightest of brushy butterfly flourishes. This plunged him from consciousness, into a wallowing narcoleptic puddle of dreamlike half-awake half-out. A moment later and he'd feel the DEEP PUSH and more rolling squeezes. He'd be conscious again but most relaxed... a veritable "stroked tomcat" on the very edge of purring contentment.

Oh yes, he found this all rather soothing indeed. Curiously enough, he also realized at some point she'd been straddling him; grinding herself even against him. Was she REALLY doing that? No, it was more tricks of the mind, he told himself. He was just getting the most marvelous massage and she was merely moving the oil around with her hands and her... ermmm ... um... naughty "feminine bits" down below?

Perhaps this was some sort of exotic spa technique she'd picked up on whilst on holiday at one of those resorts she was always popping-off to? Yes, that had to be it! She wasn't really rubbing and grinding her crotch against his back and bum; just a trick of his mind, (or so he told himself).

She really was good at this. He felt completely spoiled and it really was superb relaxation; what with the push of her hands... the swoosh of her crotch up against his bum and lower back... then of course there was that rolling of the flesh she did in her hands with his back. It all was followed by the kiss-kiss-peck-peck of her lips on his skin and that warm swirl of her tongue against his... WAIT WARM SWIRL OF HER TONGUE? KISS KISS PECK PECK?

Oh dear!

No wait, he considered, he was her lovely little nephew whom she'd always doted on and spoiled. These were all harmless little pecks and kisses. Again this was all in his head or so his inner monologue told him. He needed to simply understand it was a trick of his overactive imagination. He just needed to tell this all to his ferociously snarling penis beneath him, (which happened to be throbbing away like a badly stubbed toe).

He felt her weight shifting as she leaned forward. He felt pecks and kisses on the back of his shoulders, then more upon his neck and then his ears. They tickled. They tickled... agreeably so.

Her kisses and rubs went lower... down down down his back. He felt those hands of hers clenching and unclenching the more of the flesh along his spine. He felt those wickedly soothing seductive lips and tongue; swirling little pecky swirls like a puckery street-sweeper along his backbone. Her hands now arrived at his lower back with more of the same lovely scrunchy-wunches, (along with more kissy pecks and swirls), then those same mischievous fingers moved down to knead at the muscular halves of his bum.

The heels of her hands pressed hard into the flesh and bone of his hips; straight on through his glutes. It should have hurt like hell (and to be perfectly honest it did just a little), but the push also served as a most soothing balm for him. He'd worked out the day before and was lame up and down his legs and rump. It all felt so good in an achey sort of way. As he groaned her felt her lips kiss first one arse cheek, then the other; then she felt her fingers bush against his balls for a little tickle and... WAIT HIS BALLS?

Oil, she was making certain he was properly oiled on his balls, that's all. No harm done. Anything else was had been in his head; just like he'd been telling himself all along. He just needed to listen to his own common sense and not concern himself with things not real.

On the other hand, those tickles to his testicles felt simply lovely. Heaven could wait. He was sure of this.

Those marvelous hands didn't stop there, however; oh no! He received one more oily push down hard across his buttocks; then her hands swept on down to his legs. She kneaded the backs of his thighs, then the backs of his knees, before moving down to his calves with multiple squeezes in a marvelously vice-like grip that sent blood moving up and down his legs and once again nearly put him to sleep. Once more those hands of hers massaged his feet, careful not to tickle him and making lovely little pulling pops to his toes. Finally, he received a wakeup call with a light bare-handed smack to the bottom of his feet.

"Wakeup you," Maggie told him, "and roll yerself over."

He complied, flipping himself over like an oily cheese omelet; only to have his cock wibble-wobble and flippity-flop itself upright for all the world to see. It now swayed before her eyes as if it were a rubbery flagpole. She was most amused at his pulsing penile predicament.

Well, well... she thought as she applied more oil to her own belly for both her benefit and his, he most certainly DID enjoy that!

She moved up to the edge of his lounge chair and a second later threw a leg over; straddling both him and the chair with a broad stance. She towered over him like a feminine colossus as she smiled down upon him. He couldn't tell where her eyes were behind those glasses, (but at the moment he simply didn't care). The twat above him was there for the gazing if all he did was but screw up the courage to gaze.

Carpe Diem and all, he thought. Well of course, maybe not exactly Latin flashed through his noggin, but he knew enough to take advantage of a good vantage point. It was all there for the looking.

He stole a peek at her cunt... meaty curtains of pink and purple suspended high above him. Again his cock twitched. She saw this and at the same time, caught his gaze upon her sex. He was keen, and she knew it to be so. She dropped down.

He felt her weight land upon him; all lovely oiliness, belly, breasts, limbs ...oh and that crotch of hers, (of which he was now acutely aware). She sat astride him for a moment then laid her body down atop his in a snuggly embrace. She gave him a little kiss. It was a sweet kiss, upon his lips.

"Do you like your massage Billy?" she asked.

"Its very nice Auntie Maggie," he replied.

"Good," she whispered, the morning sun now becoming high noon glow above her head of auburn locks, "I have more to show you."

She kissed him again and then turned her head to one side; commencing to slide her oily form up and down his, (squishing and sloshing against him in all the right places). Up and down, back and forth she moved her body against him, her legs parted so that collisions of a most improper nature were unavoidable. Furthermore, any fool witness to it all would have told you those nasty smashings were anything but accidental.

She'd wickedness most foul in the back of her head as she did all this, of course. She'd found his piece of penile pepperoni with her pink notch almost as soon as she'd lighted upon him but she'd not 'received it.' Instead she rubbed her sex up and down the exterior of his shaft; giving her aroused clitoris a good shimmy along his teenage tent-pole.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked him.

He shook his head and muttered something to the negative. He was overwhelmed at the moment; his cock and balls raging like a runaway boiler.

"It is," she said not making eye contact but instead focusing on her own pleasure, "a *UNHHH! OH DEAR!* ... a form of massage from Thailand called 'Body-Body.' "

The sensations were just as delightfully distracting for her as they were for him. She continued to stare away; a wanton she-lecher taking selfish pleasure from each grinding rub and marveling at the wonderfully corrupting wrongness of it all. Her understudy replied with a gasp,

"Body, b..bo..body?"

"Yes," she replied, " I encountered it in a massage parlour in Bangkok ye...*UNGGHHH!* ...years ago. A friend recommended it and I tried it. I became hooked on it. Swear by it now even,"

Her voice trailed off a bit. She was in her 'zone,' simply relishing the hot vile friction of incest. Taboo of any kind always intrigued her... and heightened her senses; in turn driving her appetite more and more with each shamefully pleasurable activity.

She had yet to take him inside her but nonetheless she could sense now a sexual bond cementing between the two of them; unspeakably foul and wrong, but with an illicit pleasure and excitement that was self-evident for both; guardian and charge, aunt and nephew. It was so wrong; might as well keep going... if one is to be wrong, go big-go strong. She continued to explain things to him with,

"It normally happens in a room with a tub or shower, dear. A person removes their clothes and is then joined by two nude women. The whole thing often starts off with a rinse and then once all three are wet, both ladies rub soapy brushes up and down their own bodies *OOHH! -UNHHHH!* and that of the massage recipient. The girls then rub their bodies up and down the person receiving the massage... just like we are doing. Also, just as in our case... oils are used. It's a way of getting clean, a way of relaxing, you see? Its a way of being delightfully intimate with one another and at peace..."

Maggie kept up the flimsy pretenses of this whole depraved act being purely for the benefit of Billy's education. It was seduction most foul, and she was being the most egregious of corrupters, but then again the lying charade about this being somehow therapeutic (not to mention the vile hedonism which was to surely follow), well it was all part of her ethos. Shame taboo and pleasure had over many years of experimentation woven themselves into a debauched tapestry in the back of her mind, until by now she simply didn't desire any one of them without the other two elements being present. This was the height of depravity and she should have turned back, but the point of turning back was well behind her... and her sex was so frightfully hungry.

She turned her face back to his and dropped her glasses; his eyes meeting hers. There was a kiss as her she-loins met his; stroke for oily stroke. Oooh, she felt that kiss; a kiss not from an Aunt to her nephew, but a kiss like something more -wickedly more even! Billy felt it too... and he did a remarkable job of denying this to be anything improper, (yet he secretly wished it to be... and more).

He was as one turning his head from a terrible crime so as not to be a reliable witness later on. Plausible denial was heady in the air about him. This could be seen if he were honest with himself as something utterly terribly; ripping away at the very fabric of everything he'd ever learned about family... trust...relationships; yet the payoff he reckoned was shameless animal pleasure for he... and for she. He reasoned... or rationalized that they'd not done anything requiring the asking of consent. I was all just a little naked greasy massage lying atop one another and... WAIT THAT SOUNDED FUCKING ABSURD.

It was fortunate he was only eighteen. He had the body of a man but clearly the mind of an eighteen-year-old; full of impulsiveness mixed with the ability to excuse anything so long as pleasure, satisfaction, or base desires were satiated. That furious rage deep down in his loins overcame the misgivings he had about his mother finding out about this... or his friends... or the law for that matter. FUCK IT ALL, he was merely receiving a massage...EVERYTHING ELSE WAS JUST A TRICK OF HIS MIND. He kissed her right back; a good solid kiss. Lots of men probably kissed their aunts this way, why shouldn't he?

Yet she parted her lips and opened her mouth. A moment later his lips did the very same. Her tongue was now in-between those lips; he could most definitely feel it. Furthermore, so could she!

As his fevered mind did its best to excuse this latest bit of a "trick" upon it, his hips almost involuntarily did precisely what she'd wanted them to. He shuffled his hips and she shuffled hers against that dong-head grinding now from her clit to cunt-hole proper. A second later and then SWOOSH! that ruddy bell-head found its way into her gyno-grotto; just the tip mind you, but it was most definitely "inside things."

No virgin being present at this party, both people knew precisely what had happened. Both gasped with a bit of shock and then a bit of delighted horror, (hers quite feigned but his mostly genuine). His was now a mind full of fear angst and guilt, (except for that snorting part of his male libido that sooo wished to grab her by her hips and spike her up to his balls)!

"OH AUNTIE I BELIEVE I JUST..."

"Yes Billy," she gasped, attempting to hide the joy warming her insides at the moment, "its alright, these happy accidents happen."

She pulled back from him and sat up. That donghead had REALLY "stretched the front door" for her. She'd been absolutely cunt-punched when it first pushed on through, and she now scrutinized it with clearer understanding, (plus no small degree of sexual awe). She pulled herself together but continued to stare at it in all its wonderfully primitive throbbing rudeness as she reassured him with,

"Oh see, silly boy?" she said, patting his tummy. "No harm done. Just a happy accident with neither of us hurt."

She looked into his face. She noted his look of disappointment at having not proceeded further with this accident. It was a green light for her.

Go girl, carpe diem, she thought, (understanding the correct Latin use and context of the phrase - unlike her victim). She made that next move. It was a masterstroke of seduction, posing as a bit of shocked concern for his health.

"Oh dear Billy, that is a rather swollen penis you have there! Does it hurt you, dearest?"

"Throbs a bit Auntie Maggie," he admitted.

"Oh," she observed, "it looks frightfully uncomfortable. Well just the same, it's perfectly natural for a fellow your age to achieve erections like this to his penis. Have you tried thinking calm thoughts to make it go down?"

"I've tried Auntie but won't quit doing it," he said, becoming self-conscious and returning his hands to his front in a futile attempt at modesty.

"Oh stop," she replied, batting his hands away, "look, I have titty nubs that look like swollen bee-stings and you don't see me cupping my boobies in a silly hand bra, now do you?"

She placed her hands over her tits in a ridiculous pantomime (complete with silly faces), to show just how foolish his concerns were regarding his predicament. She then released her 'jumbly-wumbly' bosoms, (but not before plucking at already erect nipples between thumbs and forefingers). She gave them a playful tuggy-wug and at the same time went into a rather burlesque shocked "O" with her lips before her facial features finally melted into a playful smile. That got them both laughing and presently he relaxed, no longer attempting to shield his petrified proud penis from her leering.

"Have you tried," she asked slyly with the sweetest of manipulative smiles, " relieving things? You know, soothing it with your hand perhaps?"

"Well... no," he said, somewhat blushing at her suggestion... but intrigued in the back of his mind by it just the same, "you've been here all along. I don't know anyway if it'd be proper for me to...

"OH PLEASE," she said, turning up her nose at his alleged prudishness,

"just as its natural for your penis to be stiff and my nipples to be erect in the presence of naked others, it's natural to relieve... tensions. Everyone does it. It might help you relax and enjoy the day. This sun feels ever so marvelous and I wish to enjoy things out here with you... just don't wish you to be in such a state of discomfort..."

"Perhaps," he interrupted, "I could step inside and take care of it sitting on the loo? I can do that, you know and..."

"You can take care of it RIGHT HERE BOY!" she countered, "Its nothing I haven't seen. Have been to plenty of places where I have seen either a woman rub herself to a lovely shudder or a cock to spout, if only to allow people to release and enjoy themselves."

She wasn't lying either. She'd been to a multitude of bawdy parties and rude events, plus several clothing-optional resorts where all manner of sexual antics and activities were taking place. Male and female masturbation were as common a thing at such gatherings as were cocktail napkins at the bar.

The thing was, just now she'd made it sound as if it were nothing more than blowing one's nose; a clinical need that "evolved" people did without so much as a care in the world for working class convention. It sounded as if he'd been a silly prude all his life (a slave to outdated puritanical norms of no relevance), and that he needed to get with the times. Welcome to the club... the real world, where the grownups did GROWN things.

Her comments sounded ridiculously far-fetched and pretentious when examined under the light of day. Billy should have been smart enough to see she was pulling his leg. In reality all those events were either swing parties or at couple's resorts and a good number of those places had restrictions on people simply doing filthy things out in the open, (either with others or by themselves). The truth was however, she'd several things in her favor.

First, he was eighteen and a male absolutely brimming with hormones. Secondly his mind as stated before was working overtime to justify anything about to happen because thirdly; this attention was coming not only from an aunt, (but from an attractive older woman who didn't seem to be offended by his state of affairs). She didn't seem inclined to tell anyone about this either. He did the math; considering her request to have him wank himself before her.

He shot a furtive glance back to the open door into the house. Gwennie did not seem to be anywhere nearby. She was in fact, watching from another window out of his line of sight, (something he was most unaware of). Impetuous bravado fueled by hormones won the day.

"Alright," he said with a nod.

"Wait," she corrected him, "not here ... over there!"

Her voice was a wicked whisper. It was as if the two of them were conspiring to steal apples from the market in the village. He looked to where she'd pointed and saw she'd meant for them to move to the large oversize chaise lounge.

It was a great orange flowery gaudy affair of poolside furniture; not quite couch, not quite bed... and totally adjustable. It would have looked out of place by a lot of pools, but next to Auntie Maggie's home with its flower gardens and its overdone Georgian bobbles and cherubs all over the place it was merely one more thing that looked the part when taken on the whole. Taken by itself, the chaise looked as if Hyacinth Bucket and Hugh Hefner had a furniture business together at one time.

Auntie was waiting now; on her feet with her hand extended to him, and looking at him over those drooped sunglasses with the eyes full of secrecy and reassurance. He took that hand of hers and she pulled him up. Two sets of bare oily feet padded illicitly over to the lounge, just a few steps away in the morning light. Two sets of hands worked to drop its back and raise its foot rest.

At the window in the dimness of the house, a third set of hands worked in unison; one furiously moving under Gwennie's skirts and the other holding Billy's phone whilst a thumb expertly swiped lurid pornographic images to and fro. Gwen eye's left the glow of the screen and scrutinized equally lurid events about to take place by the pool. Her lips whispered a hushed curse and those fingertips frigged at her sex.

It was as if she were witness to some vulgar sporting event and were egging the competitors to score. They most indeed would, she was certain of this. She was an excellent analyst of such sport; as well as an ardent fan and in a few minutes' time... an official of sorts.

The chaise lay before Billy and Maggie now, partially flat on its frame with the back raised slightly, and looking like an over-stuffed gaudy bed on the squeakiest of wheels at the water's edge. Maggie made Billy lie on his back, his feet well apart. She took up a position prostate on her knees and tummy tum-tum down between those legs of his; as if worshipping at his ever-stiff cock and balls in the manner of an ancient obelisk. Seizing up that ever-present bottle of sun oil, she set about sliming the sides of his thighs in gentle swooshy-wooshie strokes. Peering over the tops of those impossibly dark glasses and past his painfully throbbing phallus; her green eyes locked upon his. She whispered to him,

"Well?"

He sat up a little on one elbow. He grasped himself in his paw and bit his lip. His hand began to do that filthy horrible thing that all people do and few admit to; the only difference being that as he pleased himself rudely, he did so before the eyes of his quite nude and oily auntie.

Those eyes of hers followed everything intently; noting every jerk, every tug, even the wrinkle of his nose and quiver in his lower lip while he tugged away and abused himself. She'd her face now right up next to the action; so close to him even, that the slight puff of her nostrils actually fell upon his balls. Her gaze and her sharp mind took it all in, recording how it all looked; how fast he went, how firm he held himself, and just where he did so. Her naughty noggin took copious notes, indeed.

She chuckled to herself; at least she'd kept her word to her own blood sister Marion regarding this young man. After all, hadn't Sis asked her to watch over her only son, Billy? Well rest assured, she was most certainly watching him closely at the moment; most definitely not letting him out of her sight!

Billy for his part should have been bothered by this whole activity supremely, yet he found it wonderfully intimate and wicked fun, (not to mention relaxing). Here he was, doing the most private of personal activities next to using a toilet, and his naked aunt was egging him on quietly; all smiles and happy encouragements. Her hands were moving up and down his legs, spreading more and more oil upon his inner thighs and tracing them with the lightest brushes of her fingertips, a sensation that drove him wild as he wanked and wanked and wanked. Now and again, she would lean left or right and kiss those thighs in a little pecky-peck kiss, never taking her eyes off his tugs and pulls though.

He sensed her becoming more and more aroused at his base crude act; that only fueling further arousal deep inside him. She was not judging him, not turning away from this "terrible wonderful thing" he was doing. On the contrary; she was captivated by it, consumed even by the spectacle. Her hands came up to cup those balls of his; rubbing more oil on them and tickling all around their base while he kept up the fierce pace of his self-abuse.

"What do you think of when you do this?" she asked.

"Lots of things. Lots of things I probably shouldn't say," he admitted.

"Why not?" she asked, knowing full well why he'd said it.

"Because some of it... may be wrong to think," he gasped, his mind trying to find an answer but at the same time focusing on the act quite literally, at hand.

"Darling," she said, "you may be tugging your penis to please yourself but you should understand; your mind is the greatest sexual organ you have. You shouldn't feel bad or ashamed if your fantasies don't do people harm... "

The whole time she said all this, she was now rubbing his balls not in any manner that a sane person could call a massage. She was fondling him in her hand, but his mind was now telling him otherwise; a self-deluding lie in fact ... because he wished ever so much for the opposite to be true so he and she could keep going with this. He now wished the unthinkable, but that would be terribly wrong. Terribly and tremendously ... WRONG!

It was then that it seemed she'd almost read his mind...

"You need oil on your penis," she commented in a sweet illicit whisper, "let Auntie help you. Auntie Maggie knows things such as this..."

Maggie herself was doing a little balancing act with her words. It was important for as much of all this to be his idea, lest she scare him and make him bolt like a deer. She wanted as much for things to be his decision, (even if she was pushing like mad for him to make the right choices). She waited a moment, just holding his balls and considering everything; looking into his eye's to see if he was all fight or all flight... as he wanked and wanked, and her offer settled into his brain.

He took his hands away from himself and reclined back upon the chaise. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking about what he'd say next; then he looked straight at her and with trembling lips said,

"Do it please Auntie, it's so ... DRY."

As lies and poor justifications went this was a WHOPPER, but the mere sight of his hands resting at his side (plus his stiff as a cricket bat penis pointing to the sun), told her all she'd need to know as she lay there; holding his balls in her hand and squeezing upon them like a warm hairy beanbag. She brought up her free hand, dripping with oil. In motion that for both of them seemed to stop time... reached for her nephew's cock.

Billy felt her touch and blinked, sucking in an immense draft of air through whistling nostrils. This was it, she was touching him. Oh the thrill he felt as Auntie's fingers wrapped about his penis, giving the pulsing flesh a firm tennis racquet grip!

Maggie marveled with an open mouth, the great warm meaty weight filling her hands now. Her hand began wanking throbbing shaft whilst her other hand worked those lovely balls. He responded with an ever so slight raising of buttocks off the lounge before she pushed him down; telling him softly to, just relax.

Relax? RELAX? Alright... this was NOT a trick of his mind. This was an absolutely FOUL ... NASTY...and errrrmmm... OH DEAR... SIMPLY MARVELOUS trick of her ruddy hand! OH BLOODY HELL THAT FELT WONDERFUL- OH DAMN WHY FIGHT IT?

"That feels ...good Auntie," he murmured, a slight quiver in his voice, "please don't stop."

"What feels good Billy?" she asked coquettishly fluttering her eyes at him as she brought her oily paw up and down the length of his throbber, making marvelous squishy sounds with her hand at the very top before plunging her fist down to the base. Her hand became a lovely lubricated plunging piston, all squishy stroke-stroke-strokety stroke!

"Come on Billy," she said as she puckered her lips before giving the shaft a pecky-peck kiss about hallway up its length (all while continuing her uppy-down with her hand), "tell Auntie Maggie what feels good."

"The way you're oi-oi-oiling me," he shuddered closing his eyes to enjoy the sensation.

He then felt a stranger and even more pleasant sensation, further still. Upon opening his eyes, he looked to behold her drumming the tip of his pecker against her pouty lip-pucker. She'd opened her mouth slightly, making playful popping sounds before continuing with that firm squishy up 'n down motion of her hand.

"Am I really oiling you?" she asked, fluttering eyes at him. She puckered her lips again, putting more kissy-kiss pucker-pecks up and down the shaft before wanking her hand up and down its length and resting her kissy pucker at the underside of the mushroom bell-head while waiting for a reply.

He was prepared to lie; to fib, to tell a half-truth one last time... but what was the point to being less than truthful to both she and with himself? He may have been young but he was anything but stupid and clearly she was wanking him. Clearly she was interested in him, and CLEARLY he wanted this. He opted for honesty.

"No," he said, being honest with the both of them, "you are wanking me."

"And is it wrong," she asked, her hand running up and down his shaft as she kissed the underside of the tip, "that I should wank and tug and pull on your penis (kiss)...your proud erection(kiss)... your lovely marvelous cock?"

She waited again for his response; wanking him up and down his shaft, drumming the tip against her pucker and nose. There was a pause. He was thinking... he was wrestling with right and wrong, (and wrong was clearly the stronger wrestler). She opened her mouth slightly and through her pucker, her little tongue-tip tickled the underside of that mace-like mushroom penis-tip. THAT decided the match between right and wrong; decidedly overwhelmingly in WRONG'S FAVOR!

"It is but I want it. I want you to do it and I want you to do more... please?"

There it was, he'd done it. He'd said he wanted this sexual gift from his mother's sister, (and he cared nothing now about his silly conscience). His conscience wasn't doing a lovely job of pulling his greasy penis... his auntie was! He might be going to hell for all this he mused, but his conscience and his sense of guilt could at least go there first ahead of him to reserve a nice table. He'd taken a first step in a glorious lifetime of hedonism (and it was his Auntie Maggie who'd offered him her hand and led him at the start of the journey; holding him by his painfully stiff cock)!

"Not to worry, we'll do more," she replied, now giving him a marvelously slow forceful wank as her tongue licked it in-between her words, "this... *lick* and... *nibble* so...*kiss*...much *lick* hmmm...*kiss* ...MUCH MORE!"

He nodded. He lay back and let her "do her thing," with it. She was very good with those hands of hers. He noted she was even more accomplished with his cock than he (and he'd abused himself for hours on end in his room and in the shower). When it came to knowing what pleased his cock... he couldn't even hold a candle to her. She was good... and bad; marvelously bad in fact!

"Billy," she said as her hand worked a blur his loins, "can I ask you something?"

"Yes Auntie," he gasped, his chin bobbing up and down slightly.

"Have you ever tried," she said, tugging at him now thoughtfully "edging yourself?"

"What? You mean, not cumming?"

"Precisely," she replied, popping the underside against her pucker and slapping lightly against her chin and dimples, "I know you haven't cum yet but I'd love to do a bit more with you. I know you were watching me quite intently when I was pleasing myself and I wish to do something...well... mutual, yes? Care to give it a go for Auntie?"

"I've done it in the past," he confided, "but not always been good at it. Sometimes I can hold out... sometimes three strokes and my bed is a sticky mess, but ok... I'm up for it if you are and..."

She didn't wait further. She was up on her bum and seated bare-arse between his thighs with her crotch VERY close to his own; her legs draped over his as if preparing to straddle. She resumed wanking him slowly while cupping those lovely balls, (but not first before bringing his hand down between her legs to her sex). She sighed at his touch; pausing for a second, lost in the delicious hedonism of the moment. She then explained things to him.

"WE my dear young fellow," she said with a voice full of soft illicit whispers, "are going to play with one another. I don't wish you to spend yet either - that will be soon but not yet. I want you to make ME spend, however. I want to release before you, understood? It's a little game I like to play with 'certain select,' people."

"I understand Aunt Maggie," Billy replied, his busy fingers already getting down to no-good in the well-oiled petals of her sex-blossom.

What followed between aunt and nephew was a sort of intimate mutual masturbation; the two sitting very close to one another and with Maggie directing the whole activity in hushed whispers. She informed Billy to immediately say something if he was about to spend or spunk, (as it just so happened she'd a special procedure in case that occurred). In the meantime, she wanked him hard as he finger-blasted her sex and both shared sighs, shudders, and silly groans. It was as if they were two teens on a car date, exploring each other's private parts for the first time.

It all went on for several minutes as Maggie calmly coached him on stroking her clitoris and fingering her pink quim-hole in precisely the fashion she hungered for. As for the strokes she was applying to his penis; well...he got close at one point... so very close to spending. She clucked her tongue at him and slowed her pace, continuing to wank him but with soothing words to postpone his release.

He nodded and in spite of himself was able bring himself under control; allowing his pending orgasm to retreat. It was something that showed a maturity beyond his tender years. Her discerning eye noticed this and she nodded appreciatively. He continued to frig at her snatch and she kept on wanking him. Her nostrils flared; the excited sound of her sips of air finding the same rhythm as his. They were synching themselves now, the bond stronger than it had ever been between the two.

She now added twist to the masturbatory molestation mischief; in fact, it was something she truly enjoyed. She pushed away his hand and commenced drumming his penis against her bald oily snatch; that swollen clitoris of hers in particular receiving the lion's share of the hammering. She banged it against her hooded nub rapidly, over and over again; as if she were a rude greasy instrument at one end of a lewd orchestra, making her wonderfully agitated with each meaty slap. She saw this was exciting too for him and gasped at her nephew,

"How about I lie on my back while we continue to do this?"

Well Billy was all nods, (no protest from him, now). The switch-up was easy enough. She assumed a reclining position on her back before him, raising her spread legs up; high... higher... and higher still, until she did a wicked little trick she'd learned at her yoga class. First she placed one leg back behind her head with her arm and shoulder locked in front of it. Now she did the same with the other leg, actually crossing her ankles behind that pretty auburn head of hers.

Billy couldn't believe his eyes as he hovered over her. He had an aunt possessing simply exquisite gorgeous features who wanted to do rude naked things with him, and she just happened to be double-jointed in the bargain? Well, there were no complaints from him.

"Billy, come closer," she whispered with mischievous urgency while winking slyly at him.

He knelt on the edge of the chaise. She wasted no time; seizing his member in her fist. The air was heady with anticipation and suspense as to just what precisely she'd in mind to do next.

She resumed stroking him and hammering that cock against her clit; all whilst making delighted OH! OH! OH! with from her mouth for several marvelous seconds as her nephew's blood raced with excitement. An expert at such things, she as keeping that throbber stiff and coursing with blood. Sensing the time and the level of excitement to be correct, she changed the rudeness up even more.

She began running that throbbing penis up and down her snatch; rutting it against her hooded bean before sending it down to rub it around the now growing pink crater of her cunt-hole. Instead of pushing it inside, she ran his dong-head all around the entrance in a delicious tease that vexed them both terribly before returning the cock-tip back to her poor pummeled clit for more incestuous frictions of the loveliest variety! This process she repeated several times before looking up into his eyes and asking,

"Think you can do this, boy?"

He nodded, always the quick study. He was a bright one if there ever was! He grabbed his member; proceeding to mimic the rude act Aunty Maggie had just been doing with his meaty man-stick; rutting and grinding it against her furrow for several short circuits of mutual masturbatory mischief.

Maggie, always wishing to educate as well as fornicate with those younger than she, explained to him this was a form of masturbation practiced in Africa between the young people of some tribal societies with powerful taboos against sex before marriage. Young men and women of those tribal groups would lie together very close together in an effort to be intimate and relieve sexual tensions. The penis would be rubbed all around the young woman's private parts but penetration in her vagina was strictly forbidden; both participants instead forced to orgasm by the mere application of genital to genital collisions and sexual friction.

He listened intently as he circled round and round the edge of her naughty pink twat-hole with that dong of his; seeming to stoke hot coals with an especially hard stick. She in turn resumed fondling his balls; cupping and squeezing them as if obsessed with their freshness. They may have not been very fresh, but they were becoming quite full, she judged.​