Incest/Taboo Mom Tries Belly Dancing

"What?" Dad asked, turning around.

"Nothing," we both replied at once.

He shook his head and wandered off.

After dinner, Uncle Tom suggested he and Dad take a look at the pub he had been talking about in the afternoon and maybe play a game of darts. Dad looked confused until Uncle Tom reminded him he had said it was a good place Dad to make contacts. So off they went, leaving Mom and I and Aunt Elizabeth alone.

"They're just going out to drink," Aunt Elizabeth said. "Tom's been doing a lot of that lately."

"I wish Ted would. It's a relief to get him out of the house."

Aunt Elizabeth looked at Mom and laughed. "Isn't that the truth?"

"Yeah," Mom replied. "Sometimes it's just so much easier without men around."

"Hey," I chimed in.

"You're an exception," Mom said.

"Maybe your generation is different," Aunt Elizabeth said.

She came over to me and gave me a bear hug, her challenged height forcing her small breasts into my stomach, accompanied by the faint stab of her nipples.

"Should we watch a chick flick?" Mom suggested.

"Yeah. How about Alien," I suggested. "It's got Sigourney Weaver in it."

The thought of watching Sigourney Weaver's lank frame with her great slingers jostling free beneath an undershirt with Aunt Elizabeth in the room turned my crank. Mom scowled at me, reading my mind perfectly.

"Deal, if you watch a real chick flick with us after," Aunt Elizabeth countered.

"You put the movie in," Mom instructed me. "I'll make some snacks, and you pour the drinks," she said, looking at Aunt Elizabeth.

Surprised at my quick-thinking suggestion and the fact I had gotten away with it, I put the movie in the DVD player and took a spot on the end of the couch. By the time I got through the trailers, Aunt Elizabeth had arrived with the drinks and set them down on the coffee table in front of the couch. I paused the movie to wait for Mom.

Aunt Elizabeth sat next to me but left more than a foot between us. Mom arrived right after with a plate of smoked salmon with crackers and dip and a bowl of chips. She looked at the three drinks.

"I think Coke would be fine for Curtis," Mom said.

"Oh Lisa. He's almost nineteen."

"Maybe we should have wine then. He can have some of that."

"Okay. First wine, and then scotch."

"Not for Curtis."

"Okay, just wine for Curtis," Aunt Elizabeth echoed.

"I'll get it," Mom said.

While she was in the kitchen, Aunt Elizabeth picked up one of the scotches and downed it in a single gulp. If was strange, seeing such a small, slight woman down a hard drink like that. She nodded expectantly at me.

"Get rid of it while the getting's good," she said.

I downed the glass the same way Aunt Elizabeth did but couldn't help coughing just as Mom returned with a bottle and three wine glasses.

"Curtis!"

"It's my fault. I made him," Aunt Elizabeth laughed.

"That was sneaky," Mom barked, frowning at me.

"Oh Lisa. Don't be such a hardass. Let him be."

"Okay," Mom said. "But don't do it again." She sat on the other side of Aunt Elizabeth, picked up the remaining scotch, and said, "I guess I better remove the temptation."

When Mom set her empty glass on the table I started the movie. As the film progressed, we ate the chips and the smoked salmon. The wine disappeared less rapidly and the undershirt scene with Sigourney was over far too soon. I knew there was another one near the end and hoped we were into the second bottle by then. For now, I was happy that Mom's constant visits to the salmon plate had pressed her close to Aunt Elizabeth and she in turn moved closer me.

We paused the movie about two thirds through to let Mom to select another bottle of wine. While she was gone, Aunt Elizabeth poured three shots of scotch and downed one right away, then passed the other one to me.

"Live a little," she said.

I shook my head but Aunt Elizabeth pushed it toward my lips. What the hell; I drank it. Mom returned with the wine, then noted the glass of scotch in front of her, the empty in Aunt Elizabeth's hand, and the other empty which I had replaced exactly where it had come from.

"Not for me," Mom said.

"More for me," Aunt Elizabeth said and grabbed the last scotch. She didn't down this one but held it while Mom poured three glasses of wine, handed one to me, and picked one up herself while Aunt Elizabeth continued to nurse her scotch. I hit play to start the movie.

Mom grabbed the last chunk of smoked salmon and stretched her feet out on the coffee table. Aunt Elizabeth grabbed a handful of chips, leaned back into the couch, and put her black-stocking feet on the coffee table too. Mom had stretched her legs out flat but Aunt Elizabeth braced her feet on the edge of the table. Her knees were thus raised but she could still see over them.

I sipped my wine and watched the movie. It was several minutes before I realized that Aunt Elizabeth's black skirt had slid quite a ways down her thighs, leaving a creamy white gap between the lacy top of the black stockings and the hem of her skirt. My gaze was repeatedly dragged down and to the left, more attracted to Aunt Elizabeth's legs than Sigourney's undershirt. I sipped my wine more frequently as an excuse to tilt my head forward for a look-see before tipping the glass up.

It was amazing how much the exposure of two inches of thigh aroused me. Aunt Elizabeth's legs thighs were slender and tapered out from her knees until they abruply widened in that two inch gap. I knew what they were widening toward and couldn't get it out of my mind. I kept imagining the shape of her pussy and wondered if it was covered in wiry black hair or whether my aunt shaved it to please Uncle Tom, much the way she wore falsies for him. Was she wearing panties? Of course, you idiot. This is Aunt Elizabeth. Still, what if she wasn't? I had never seen her drink before. What else did she do?

My eyes glazed over as I feigned watching the movie while I pictured big Uncle Tom wallowing over tiny Aunt Elizabeth. I screwed up my face at the thought.

"Scared?" Aunt Elizabeth asked, jabbing me in the side with her elbow.

"No," I replied vehemently.

I returned my attention to the movie but my gaze soon slid back to my aunt's legs. I must have been too obvious because she leaned forward, put her almost empty glass on the table, and tried to tug her skirt down when she sat back. It resisted, however, and the magic gap remained. Aunt Elizabeth fixated on the movie but the rigidity of her gaze informed me she was aware of my glances at her legs.

I had been caught. So what the hell? I may as well look because you can't be burnt twice for the same crime. I appreciated the pale skin exposed by the gap and wondered what it would be like to slide my hand inside that skirt the way I had done with Mom in the car. Wouldn't it be awesome if I could simply place my hand on Aunt Elizabeth's legs and push it under her skirt without her or Mom minding? Why wasn't the world like that?

The movie ended far too soon. I was glad I had agreed to watch a chick flick because I didn't want to leave the couch. I could easily spend another hour or so looking at, and thinking about, Aunt Elizabeth's legs.

"What should we watch now?" Mom asked.

"I don't know," Aunt Elizabeth replied. "I don't really feel like watching a chick flick."

"I don't mind," I said. "A deal's a deal."

"I'm not into it," Aunt Elizabeth said.

"Well, should we call it a night?" Mom asked.

Shit!

"Hell no," Aunt Elizabeth said.

"We could watch Aliens," I suggested. "If that's alright with Aunt Elizabeth."

"I'll watch it on one condition," Aunt Elizabeth said.

"Oh, oh. Here it comes," I said.

"Stop calling me Aunt Elizabeth."

"Okay, Elizabeth it is."

"Oh, I don't think so, young man. I'm still your aunt."

I looked at my aunt, confused. She smiled at some amusing thought in her head and said, "You can call me Aunt Beth. I like the sound of that better. Elizabeth is too uptight. Goodbye Elizabeth." With that, Aunt Beth picked up the scotch glass and tossed off the dregs.

"Hear, hear," Mom said, and took a swig of wine.

Aunt Beth got up and gave instructions like Mom had done at the start of the first movie.

"You get more snacks, you put the next movie in, and I'll get more comfortable."

Mom dug up some cheese and crackers while I put the movie in and filled the wine glasses. I took the empty bottle into the kitchen and Mom got another.

"There won't be a replay last week. You know that, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied innocently.

"Your aunt isn't going to pass out again and even if she does, I'm not doing anything in front of her again, so forget it."

I tried to put my arms around Mom to give her a smooch but she pushed me away. I protested, saying if Aunt Elizabeth passed out I didn't see why we shouldn't take advantage of it.

"Let's cross that bridge when we get to it," I said, barely able to suppress a smile a being able to sling one of Mom's more irritating phrases back at her.

"No way," Mom said.

I returned to the living room and took my seat and Aunt Beth sat beside me when she came back, putting her feet up on the edge of the coffee table again. Mom sat with feet on the floor and busied herself putting cheese on crackers and handing a napkin full of them to Aunt Beth and then one to me. As I reached across Aunt Beth's knees it struck me that she hadn't changed, so what had she meant by 'get more comfortable'?

Mom filled her own napkin full of cheese and crackers and we all munched for a minute while staring at the paused screen because the remote was in my lap and my hands were full. Mom and Aunt Beth began talking and I took the opportunity to reacquaint myself with her legs, pleased to see that the band of bare skin was still there. If anything, it was wider, Aunt Beth's skirt having ridden higher up her thighs. She was wearing the same white blouse, the same black skirt, and the same black stockings. Nothing had changed.

And then I saw it.

A piece of cheese fell out of my mouth as my jaw went slack. A few flakes of cracker followed. Thankfully, neither Mom nor Aunt Beth were paying attention to me so I picked up the chunk of cheese and stared.

At Aunt Beth's chest.

The falsies were gone!

The phony, bloated swell of starched white blouse was absent, replaced by a sag of material over a more muted landscape, like snow covering a valley marked by two gentle landmarks. There wasn't any topological contrast between the white blouse and the 'V' of skin dividing the lapels diverging from two disconnected buttons.

"Start the movie, Curtis," Mom's curt voice broke me out of my reverie. It sounded like she was less happy with me than I thought.

Mom was looking at me but switched her gaze to the TV as soon as I looked up. She rolled her eyes and her face tightened. Aunt Beth was already watching the paused movie and continued to do so while I fumbled with the remote. I knew Mom had caught me staring and was sure that Aunt Beth knew what I'd been doing too, if only by Mom's reaction. My face reddened and as soon as I got the movie started I dropped the remote. I had to bend over to retrieve it from the floor when it fell under Aunt Beth's legs. I grabbed it and turned my head.

I couldn't help myself. I was out of their sight and just had to steal a peek up Aunt Beth's skirt. Of course, I couldn't see anything except black stockings but it still made me stiffen in my pants. When I sat up, the remote accidentally scraped across the underside of Aunt Beth's right thigh but she continued watching the trailers intently as if nothing had happened. For my part, I kept my eyes to myself and tried to be good.

We were a ways into the movie when Aunt Beth leaned forward to replenish her napkin. When she sat back, I noticed the V in her blouse was deeper. Evidently, there had been three unsecured buttons, not two. Evidently, the lapels had just been lying sufficiently close together to hide the liberal state of the third one.

Aunt Beth jerked forward, nibbling at a bit of cracker threatening to break away from the main piece. She managed to scoop it into her mouth but, in leaning forward to do so, her blouse gapped open and I had a brief yet clear view of her small, unencumbered left breast as it dangled off her chest, pert and larger-than-life nipple perched cheekily on top.

When Aunt Beth leaned back, my eyes strained toward her while feigning a forward orientation. Despite the difficulties of the challenge, I managed to fix the position of her left nipple under the blouse and quickly ascertained the likely position of the right. Thereafter, my gaze shifted, whenever it could do so relatively undetected, to roam across the axis connecting those two points with a periodic glance to the skirt-stocking gap.

Aliens proved to be a great movie. Unfortunately, before it ended, Dad and Uncle Tom arrived home. Mom asked me to put the scotch and wine bottles away before they came in, which I did. I returned to the living room just as Mom passed me with empty plates and discarded napkins and the door opened. I snapped a glance at Aunt Beth and caught her doing up the buttons on her blouse. Both Dad and Uncle Tom immediately noticed the absence of her normally blossoming chest but neither said a word. I bid everyone good night and made my escape before anything awkward was said.
​

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The next day was Sunday. Everybody slept in and sauntered into the kitchen at different times. When I arrived, Mom, Aunt Beth and Dad were already there. Uncle Tom was still in bed, evidently with a sizeable hangover. Mom was dressed in a blouse and slacks but Aunt Beth, uncharacteristically, was still in a robe, a pair of black stockings extending below.

I consumed my toast and juice in a leisurely fashion. I had very much enjoyed watching movies with Mom and Aunt Beth the previous night and was keen to spend similar evenings with them. Aside from the erotic aspect, I liked hanging out with them. It had been quite different from interactions with girls my own age. These women were confident in their sexuality, including Aunt Beth who, despite her insecurity about the size of her bosom, was still aware of her power to attract men.

Anyway, I was enjoying waking up slowly, able to sit in the kitchen as part of the background while Mom and Aunt Beth chatted to one another—Dad was also silent but, unlike me, paid no attention to the women.

Eventually, Aunt Beth went downstairs to get dressed and to tell Uncle Tom to get up. All of my attention was then transferred to Mom until she decided to make me useful and sent me downstairs to bring up the laundry. As I passed by the guest bedroom I tried to peek through the door which was open about six inches, hoping to maybe catch Aunt Beth getting dressed, but I couldn't see anything except the end of the bed. I paused briefly to listen but only heard the deep breathing of my uncle. I was about to carry on when I heard someone in the laundry room so I stepped quietly to the corner and peeked around it.

Aunt Beth was in the laundry room facing left toward the washer and dryer. She was hitching a skirt up under her robe and kinking her hips from side-to-side to get a snug fit. When the skirt was in place, she turned her back more squarely toward me and shrugged the robe off her shoulders. It dropped to the floor in a pile but my eyes didn't follow it down because I was staring at the smooth white skin of Aunt Beth's bare back.

Completely bare, no bra strap. Her pale skin contrasted starkly with the black skirt and stockings covering the lower half of her body. As I watched, Aunt Beth turned and picked up a white blouse from the basket sitting on top of the dryer, exposing the front of her body in a sideways relief. Her small breasts were obscured by her arm except for the tips of her nipples but when she raised her arms to slip her hands through the sleeves of the blouse, the left breast was completely uncovered and thrust forward.

My vision rapidly telescoped in to focus on that little tit, and time seemed to slow down so I could appreciate the erotic nature of the moment. It was beautifully formed and I was surprised to note that it looked larger than it appeared when hidden under a blouse. I liked the relatively large size of the nipple compared to the rest of the breast and felt an urge to rush in and fix my lips upon it. My cock flexed as I imagined the feel of that elongated nipple sucking into my mouth.

I must have spent more time enjoying the fruits of my imagination than I thought because, when consciousness returned, Aunt Beth had finished buttoning the front of the blouse and was tucking it into her skirt. I realized she was about to leave and would discover me standing at the end of the hallway gawking at her. Should I turn and run?

I willed myself to move but forward rather than back. After all, I had a legitimate excuse—Mom had asked me to fetch the laundry—but felt I should at least be moving toward her and not standing in the dark end of the hallway, spying.

Nevertheless, my willpower proved insufficient to cause locomotion, but it didn't matter because Aunt Beth stayed in the laundry room. She bent over slightly and pushed the stocking on her left leg down past her knee, then did the same for the right. Lifting her foot at a right angle, she completed the removal of each stocking in turn, and tossed them into the open door of the washing machine. For the first time in my life, I was looking at Aunt Beth's uncovered legs.

I strained my head forward, trying to get a better view. From here, there were no discernible marks or blemishes that would warrant covering her legs. In fact, Aunt Beth seemed to have really nice legs. True, I couldn't see under the skirt so it was possible that her upper thighs had succumbed to cellulite but then they were under the skirt and wouldn't need to be covered by dark stockings anyway. So why did she always wear them? Were they really just a fashion preference?

I started walking toward Aunt Beth just as she grabbed the basket from the top of the dryer and turned to leave. I met her at the door and inadvertently blocked her way as I looked at her legs, still interested in them but mostly trying to avoid staring at her chest.

Aunt Beth chuckled. "Were you expecting scars?"

I looked up at her, blushed, then looked away. "No."

"It's okay. Everyone wonders why I always wear stockings." She smiled. "So what to you think?"

Behind the basket, Aunt Beth turned her feet this way and that, presenting a side view of each leg.

"Very nice," I gulped.

I hadn't meant to be so admiring but when Aunt Beth turned her feet, I noticed that her toenails were meticulously painted in a soft rouge that would have looked much better on her face than her usual bright red lipstick. Why would she take the time to paint her nails so carefully just to hide them?

Aunt Beth could see what was on my mind.

"I like my nails to look nice," she said, offering the explanation I hadn't outwardly sought.

"Oh."

"Are you a leg man, Curtis?"

I blushed profusely, looked at the floor and the wall, and started to stammer.

Aunt Beth laughed. "I'm just kidding," she said, then added, "but seriously, do you think I have nice legs?"

She seemed serious, so I looked at her legs again. Strangley, now that I had been asked to look right at them, the color began to drain from my face.

"Yes, you do Aunt Beth. In fact, your legs are really nice."

"You're not kidding, are you, because I need something to help me in the job market now that I've, uh, well…anyway, are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

I met her eyes to show that I was sincere. It was strange how seconds ago I was completely flustered but now felt in control of the situation. Of course, as soon as I that confident feeling registered, I blew it by glancing down into the V of Aunt Beth's blouse which was open about halfway down. There wasn't much of anything to see but I knew exactly what was under there and it must have showed on my face. I jerked my head and caught Aunt Beth with a funny expression on her face. It wasn't until I looked away, flustered again, that I realized she seemed pleased.

I tried to get past Aunt Beth and we jammed up in the doorway, the basket between us, each working sideways to get through. As we struggled, I looked at Aunt Beth's blouse again. She twisted her body, presenting me with a white blouse with the outline of her breast imprinted upon it. For someone used to hiding bloated falsies she sure knew the best way to present her limited charms.

As we broke free, Aunt Beth smiled and said, "I hope we can watch another movie I go. I enjoyed myself last night."

"Me too," I replied, turning away from her and discovering I was trapped in the laundry room.

"Don't tell your mother I showed you my legs."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

I turned to look at Aunt Beth. "Promise," I said.

She smiled and truned to walk slowly down the hallway, her bare feet moving silently through the carpet, and her very fine legs arching up to disappear under a nicely swishing skirt.

Yum.

Upstairs, I felt guilty, not about yearning for my aunt but for ignoring Mom. For the rest of the morning, I tried to make up for it by paying extra attention to her when I could. In the early afternoon, just before Mom effectively ordered Dad and Uncle Tom out of the house by suggesting they go golfing or anything to get out of her hair, Mom told me to stop trying to butter her up.

"I can see how your aunt has grabbed your imagination, at least, down there," she said, glancing at my crotch. "It is what it is and I'm not jealous, but be careful because we have a lot to lose."

I knew better than to argue with Mom's perception. I simply nodded.

"You've really been intrigued ever since you found out her big breasts were fake, haven't you?"

"Not really," I lied.

I don't know why I denied it because Mom could see I was and I knew I couldn't fool her. She was right but I had no idea why. I was indeed hot for Aunt Beth but didn't want Mom to know. I thought of the incident in the laundry room and wondered why my aunt had asked me not to tell Mom I had seen her legs, or rather, she had specifically said not to tell Mom she had shown me her legs.

Had she been aware of my presence all along, even while changing into her blouse, sort of putting on a show? Maybe so. I was now convinced she had been aware of me looking at her legs while we were watching the movies. Did she like teasing me right under Mom's nose? Was she just having a little fun giving a teenager a thrill or was there more to it than that?
​

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Uncle Tom didn't get up for another hour and, when he did, he wasn't in a very good mood. Several frowning looks at his wife's chest clearly indicated why, though he didn't say anything which was probably wise on his part. Nevertheless, his presence was like an elephant in the room.

When Mom pushed Dad and Uncle Tom out of the house, I wondered if she was condoning my infatuation with Aunt Beth or just trying to get rid of my uncle. She actually hadn't forbidden me to pursue anyhing with my aunt, she had only said I should be careful. Would she really let me have a go at her?

A comment from Aunt Beth put the whole notion to rest. As soon as Dad and Uncle Tom were out the door, she thanked Mom for getting rid of them. I guess it had been her idea and not Mom's.

"I'm so glad you did because I don't feel like shopping," she added.

This was interesting. The plan must have been for Mom and Aunt Beth to go shopping but instead she had asked Mom to get rid of Dad and Uncle Tom. Could this possibly have something to do with the laundry room incident? My nerves were on edge, in a good way.

"Well, if you're going to stay with your new look, we should get you some blouses that fit, and maybe even get a little color on you."

"I have a few old blouses. They're a little out of style but still nice."

"Did you bring any with you?"

"Yes."

That was surprising, unless Aunt Beth didn't wear them when she and Uncle Tom were home, or when she was alone. Or maybe she had been thinking about getting a fresh start in a new town where nobody had seen her in falsies? But then, why had she worn them for the job interviews? I swear, women are hard to fathom.

"Then why don't you put one on and get rid of that ill-fitting thing while we get a movie ready, something suitable for women to watch," Mom pointedly looked at me.

"Let's watch Alien Resurrection instead," Aunt Beth countered.

"Yeah," I chimed in.

"Fine," Mom replied, going down in defeat all too easily.

Aunt Beth left to get changed and Mom again cautioned me to be careful around her which made me think first, that she was possibly aware of potential hijinks between me and Aunt Beth, and that two, she really didn't want me to do anything.

When Aunt Beth returned, Mom and I were in the living room and had just set out a tray with tea and biscuits. Mom was sitting down on the couch and I was crouching in front of the DVD player.

"How about this?"

Aunt Beth twisted her upper torso from left to right a few times, modeling her new blouse. Though still white, at least it wasn't starchy. Rather, it was a silky affair that settled gently over her modest charms, being finely made with several quarter inch lines of shiny finish running vertically down the front over each breast. The blouse clung to Aunt Beth's body and the lines emphasized the shape of her breasts, artificially augmenting their presence.

Like the starched white affair she had put on in the morning, Aunt Beth had left the top buttons undone. However, unlike the morning blouse, this one didn't billow stiffly open to offer unintentional glimpses of her bare breasts. Nonetheless, there was no mistake that Aunt Beth was going unholstered and the fine material of this blouse did little to camouflage her breasts, especially the nipples.

Mom said, "That's much better but it's still white. Can't we get a little color on you?"

Aunt Beth replied, "I like white and black together. What do you think, Curtis?"

She turned toward me, swiveled from left to right, and, unlike when she was showing Mom, tugged the blouse tightly over her breasts so the nipples almost burst through the silky material. I blinked.

"They look great," I said.

Aunt Beth smiled and Mom frowned but neither mentioned my blunder.

"Start the movie, Curtis," Mom said.

"Okay."

I started the movie and took my seat. Aunt Beth was the last to sit down and though Mom was sitting close enough to me that it made sense for my aunt to sit on Mom's other side, she squeezed in between. Immediately, she settle back and slouched down so she could put her feet up on the edge of the coffee table with her knees raised.

I was good for about twenty minutes before my attention began to stray. Since Aunt Beth's skirt wasn't as tight as the one she'd worn the night before it had slipped higher up her thighs to yield a wider gap. The memory of her legs, so briefly viewed that morning, pressed hard upon my mind, making me wish the stockings had been part of the change in wardrobe so I could examine the soft, bare flesh of her legs.

It was hard to switch between the stocking-skirt gap and the silky carpet covering Aunt Beth's chest. Each time I focused on one, the other pulled me away. My attention was stolen from one or the other whenever a scary part of the movie caused both Mom and Aunt Beth to squeal like little girls, or when a tea cup needed to be refilled but mostly I was left to choose what to enjoy within the limits of my attention span.

In the last quarter of the movie, while leaning forward to grab the last of the biscuits, I accidentally bumped the remote. It skittered from lying parallel between us to a position perpendicular to my leg and under Aunt Beth's raised knees. I finished the biscuits and reached down to get the remote, moving slowly so as not to distract either Mom or Aunt Beth from the movie.

The remote was for our older DVD play was a hefty affair. After retrieving it, instead of putting it back, I held onto it and casually swung the far end around in a small oval. This was a strange thing to do if I didn't want to distract the women from the movie but it was unintentional and, when I noticed, I wondered why I was doing it myself.

The end of the remote grazed the underside of Aunt Beth's thigh, just above the knee. Her eyes flickered but otherwise she didn't outwardly register the touch, so about thirty seconds later, I did it again, this time on purpose. Again, there was a slight flicker at the corner of her eye but nothing else. Aunt Beth probably realized that the first scrape may have been an accident, but not the second.

The thrill that boyish flirtation caused within me was surprising. I immediately began to react internally as if Aunt Beth had suddenly turned toward me and pulled her blouse apart. I swung the remote upward several times during the next few minutes, each time making the end contact the underside of her thighs. After a few such connections, I was able to distinguish between contacting the black stockings and touching the bare flesh of Aunt Beth's legs.

Given my aunt's lack of response, I became more adventurous. I lodged the end of the remote between her stockings and let it slide until it met bare flesh. On the fifth such journey, I shifted my hand to allow the remote to continue its trip inside Aunt Beth's skirt, and this caused a reaction. Aunt Beth coughed. Startled, I lost my grip on the remote.

I stared at the couch, neck muscles rigid, bracing myself for an angry reaction from Aunt Beth, or even from Mom whom I had forgotten about in my reverie. Fortunately, nothing happened and after several long seconds, during which I dared not breathe, I hazarded a glance at Mom. She was enthralled with the movie and was obviously unaware of my activities. Thank God for that. For her part, Aunt Beth seemed equally oblivious which didn't make sense. How could she not be aware?

What to do? I couldn't very well leave the remote hanging in Aunt Beth's skirt. I had to get it back. Cautiously, I moved my fingers around the hem until I located it, being careful to keep my attention purposely fixed upon the TV. Unfortunately, I bumped the remote a couple of times before securing it in my grasp and sucked in my breath both times. However, Aunt Beth seemed to know what I was trying to do and tolerated my blunders. I suspect her only concern was for me to get it the hell out of her skirt without Mom finding out it was there, which wouldn't look good for either of us.

I finally got a solid grip on the remote and started to slide it out of Aunt Beth's skirt and that's when the devil gripped my soul. Instead of retrieving the remote, I raised it until the end established contact with Aunt Beth's inner thighs, and then I pushed it deeper within her skirt. My aunt's eyes widened but she remained silent so I kept pushing the remote until it met sufficient resistance to block further progress. At first, I thought this was due to the closure of Aunt Beth's legs but then realized the remote had been skidding along the underside of her thighs and not between them. Therefore, the remote might have been blocked when it made contact with my aunt's panties. The look on her face confirmed my suspicion.

The realization that Aunt Beth had tolerated me pushing the remote inside her skirt, without recrimination, caused me to unintentionally relinquish my hold on the wayward device. I was sure this was a sign she was desperate not to draw Mom's attention to our predicament, something that was also in my interest.

Okay, Curtis. Enough enough, I thought.

I tried to regain control of the remote so I could end my foolishness but failed and only managed to bump the end of it, tapping it gently against whatever was blocking it—I guess, Aunt Beth's panties. That knowledge made my cock painfully lengthen into full erection but I didn't want to move, even to relieve my discomfort, or do anything that would call attention to this delicate situation. I didn't want to stop but I had to.

But, what if I could continue without Mom seeing? I had been careful not to attract her attention because I knew she wouldn't react kindly to this stealthy titillation after her warnings. I also knew Aunt Beth would be horrified if her sister-in-law knew she was letting her nephew touch her in such a way but, if Mom wasn't there, would she let me? The exchange in the laundry room hinted she would, as did the revealing exposition of her blouse just before the movie. If I was careful, would Aunt Beth let me continue? Would she have a choice? Even if Aunt Beth god mad, she wouldn't say anything until later and I had already done enough to catch shit. So, what the hell?

Again and again, I tapped the end of the remote, and each time I connected it sent a burst of tingles throughout my groin and zipping up my shaft to the twitching tip. The thought that my finger taps, through the remote, might be imparting similar pleasure to my aunt added to the bliss spreading through me.

Aunt Beth stiffened and that made me re-evaluate the situation. There was a difference between flirting and doing, and that awareness had made me cautious in my courtship of Mom. If Aunt Beth was restraining herself simply to avoid an embarrassing situation, the more I tapped, the more awkward she would feel and that might translate to greater anger and a diminished chance of carrying on when we were alone. That thought dampened my enthusiasm so I stopped tapping the remote. The movie ended shortly after anyway.

Aunt Beth leaned forward and under the cover of dropping her feet from the edge of the coffee table, deftly slipped the remote out of her skirt and tossed it onto the couch between us to its original position.

"That was a great movie, she exclaimed. "Do you have others like that?"

I was encouraged that Aunt Beth wanted to watch another movie and wondered if simply tossing the remote between us and not saying anything was a signal of forgiveness. Or was she testing me to see if I would redeem myself with good behavior during the next movie and only then withhold punishment?

Mom interrupted my train of thought, jumping up to say, "I want to show you something, Beth. Wait here and I'll be right back."

Mom ran up the stairs. Aunt Beth looked at me, amused confusion at Mom's departure showing on her face. Her smile faded a little as she registered the apprehension on my mine.

"What's she up to?" she asked.

"I have no idea."

And I didn't. I was still digesting the fact that Aunt Beth hadn't laid into me as soon as Mom left. I had expected to really get it despite hoping that she didn't mind. The DVD was running the credits to the movie and both of us watched them roll by. Aunt Beth didn't get up or move away from me which surprised me. I wanted to turn to her, to explain myself, or even better, kiss her and maybe touch those little darlings on her chest.

Aunt Beth was fixated on the credits, aware of my observation but studiously ignoring it. Perhaps too studiously. I looked down at her chest and was surprised to see her nipples literally stabbing through the silky blouse. Wow! She was aroused.

Or, could anger make them stiffen up like that?

I was about to speak, had almost mustered the courage to twist around to take Aunt Beth into my arms, when Mom started down the stairs.

"God, you two look like zombies. You know the movie's over, don't you."

"Oh yeah."

I picked up the remote to turn the DVD off. My hand slid over the end as I picked it up and I was shocked to feel how warm it was and that, if not damp, it was clammy as if it had been through a thick fog. I managed to get the DVD turned off and looked at Mom, feeling that if I looked at Aunt Beth my new knowledge would be revealed.

Mom was wearing a robe and she was starting a CD. She was going to dance!

Aunt Beth looked at me and I shrugged. Mom removed her robe to reveal the green and gold costume and started to move. Aunt Beth gasped when she rolled her hips and put her belly into play.

"You should try this, Beth. It's really fun, isn't it, Curtis?"

I nodded. "Yup."

Aunt Beth tossed me a weird look and then turned to watch Mom, which she did in silence for the whole first song. At first just curious and surprised, in the end her expression registered appreciation for Mom's skill.

"Have you danced in public?" Aunt Beth asked.

"Oh no. I took lessons so I could do it for Ted but he wasn't interested."

"Oh shit. Men!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Mom agreed.

"Yeah, Men!" I put in my two bits.

Mom and Aunt Beth laughed.

"So who do you dance for?"

Mom nodded at me and Aunt Beth looked from Mom to me. I wondered what was going through her mind, given the liberties I had just taken within her skirt.

"He kinda caught me practising and, after the initial embarrassment, I asked him to watch to see if I was making lots of mistakes. I wanted to see if I was making a fool of myself."

"You're very good," Aunt Beth said.

"Thanks. You should see my friend, Carol."

"Lady Alexandra," I expounded.

"Yeah, Lady Alexandra," Mom said. "She's really awesome."

"Is she a professional?"

"Not really. She owns a Greek restaurant and puts on a show for her customers. This is one of her costumes."

"We'll have to get the men to take us there for dinner."

"No. Curtis and I go together. You can come, but not Tom, or Ted."

"That's fine with me," Aunt Beth said.

"Okay, we'll do that," Mom agreed but I sensed, on second thought, she wasn't pleased about it, probably in case Carol said something inappropriately revealing.

"Do one more," Aunt Beth asked.

"Yeah, Mom. Do another."

So Mom did another dance, one that was more erotic than the first. I tried to behave myself, I really did. I didn't touch Aunt Beth with the remote but when I picked it up, thinking to put it on the end table, my hand slipped onto the far side and I let the back of my fingers bump into Aunt Beth's thigh at the thick part where her leg met the cushion. Aunt Beth acted like she didn't notice but I knew she was aware of my hand's presence. When I pressed more firmly against her skirt, she put her hand atop mine to hold it still. I tried to wiggle my fingers against her thigh but she stymied the attempt by clamping down with amazing strength for such a small woman.

Aunt Beth was watching Mom with an intensity so strong it was clear she was entranced by every move Mom made. As the dance went on, Aunt Beth's hand relaxed but I didn't try to renew my bothersome flirtation, being intrigued myself by my aunt's fascination with Mom's belly dance. Could this be something she wanted to try herself, maybe for me and not Uncle Tom?

I think it was the shallow breathing that first clued me in. It seemed as if Aunt Beth was barely remembering to breathe, she was so capitated. I watched her depreciated chest suddenly expand before falling fallow again. The effect was a rapid intrusion and expulsion of air that hinted of contained excitement. Mom was lost in the joy of dancing and Aunt Beth was watching her as if entranced. It was unmistakable; Aunt Beth was turned on.

After Mom finished the dance, she encouraged Aunt Beth to try it with her. She resisted, claiming she lacked the coordination to dance well and looked like a goof on the floor, but Mom insisted and pulled my aunt off the couch. Aunt Beth tried, she really did, but she truly was uncoordinated. At any rate, her slender body, hot as it was, wasn't suited for belly dancing. It wasn't the lack of heft upstairs; that was alright and I didn't mind looking there just as I suspect many men would. And it wasn't the legs; Aunt Beth had nice legs. She just didn't have the hips for it. In the end, she gave up, laughing, and tried to get Mom to do another number, but she wasn't into it so we called it a day and cleaned up. It wasn't long before Dad and Uncle Tom came home.​