To: louvre@dido.fa.indiana.edu
Subject: SUBMIT aunt_pamela11.txt
Article 33695 of alt.sex.stories:
From: an99635@anon.penet.fi
Date: Fri, 2 Sep 1994 22:24:55 UTC
Subject: Aunt Pamela 11/21 (at last!)
TEN
On Monday, Bobby came straight home from school, went
upstairs, and came down dressed in panties greatly
distorted by his anticipatory arousal. Pamela met him
in the living room and pointed at the floor. Bobby
knelt, looking confused. Pamela put both hands at her
waist, flat, palms down. Bobby lay on his back. She
stood over his shoulders and prepared him: "There are
two things that are different today, Bobby. First, I'm
not wearing any panties. Second, I want you to be more
active than before. In a minute, I'll sit on your face
and press my anus against your lips. I want you to open
them and lick me as deeply and as thoroughly as you
can. I've been running around all day and I feel dirty,
especially there. I want you to clean me up with your
tongue. Do you understand?"
Bobby replied in the affirmative as his prick
twitched in anticipation. Pamela noted both answers as
she squatted over her nephew's face. She put her hands
on his chest for balance, and lowered herself until her
asshole just grazed his lips. Bobby took in her sharp,
dark odor, then tentatively licked just outside her
brown ring. She was a little greasy there, and moist
with perspiration. He lapped in decreasing circles
until he was licking at the center of Pamela's bottom
hole. She pressed downwards slightly, and Bobby tried
to push his tongue inside. He felt her springy ridges
pulsating gently, now opening to admit him, now closing
and squeezing his tongue back out. Pamela relaxed her
sphincter as she applied more pressure. Soon she had
most of her weight on Bobby's face except when she let
up so he could breathe. When she sat down on him, she
relaxed completely, and Bobby could push his tongue
into her serrated channel and lick at the soft, slick
walls. The darkness made it easier for Bobby to
concentrate on the way she smelled, tasted, and felt.
She made him lick her for a long time; the muscles at
the base of Bobby's tongue ached.
Pamela reached forward and held Bobby's prick
through his panties. She spoke slowly, sternly: "Bobby,
usually I'm very careful to use the right words. I'm
going to be careful now, but the right words for what's
about to happen are different from the words I usually
use with you. The words I need now are the words that
will help your humility."
Pamela paused, then continued in a hard,
commanding voice: "Bobby, lick my ass. Get that tongue
up my asshole." She began to slap his prick lightly
through the cloth, forcing it first to one side, then
the other. "Lick me where I shit, Bobby. Put your
tongue up in that dirty, slimy place. Lick it clean,
Bobby, and swallow it down." She saw him begin to
tremble, and she returned to stroking him. "Lick my
brown hole, Bobby. You love it. You love to lick my
tight little asshole, don't you? You like to get your
tongue up where my shit comes down. I'll bet you'd like
me to fill your mouth right now." Bobby lost in the
heady combination of humiliation and stimulation,
spasmed and squirted, covering his belly with hot jism
that soaked through the panties. Pamela rubbed Bobby's
cock through the newly-slick cloth as it softened, then
shifted her position so her pussy was over Bobby's
mouth. She whispered urgently, "It's time to thank me
for being so nice to you."
Ignoring the discomfort of his throbbing tongue,
Bobby licked his aunt's clitoris until she enjoyed
several powerful orgasms.
With some effort, Pamela restrained herself from
allowing a breakdown like Saturday's. She groaned and
grunted as she came, but merely patted Bobby's head
afterwards, treating him like a particularly obedient
dog.
* * *
For the rest of the week, right after school Bobby
licked Pamela's asshole until his tongue was sore.
After that, she would sometimes make him stand in front
of her and would pat his cock first from one side and
then the other, gradually increasing the strength of
the blows until his stiff prick bounced violently back
and forth. She would keep up the slapping until he came
in his panties. Sometimes she would make him lower his
panties to his knees and would fist his cock back and
forth until he filled her hand with his juices, which
she then transferred to his face. Once, she ignored his
need for release and sent him off to do his homework.
Each day, Bobby finished his time with her in adoration
of her pussy. She grew greedier each time, forcing him
to suck her for longer and longer. Bobby gloried in
being the instrument of her satisfaction.
* * *
The next Monday, Pamela wasn't in the house when Bobby
came home from school. Bobby called for her several
times, then went up to his room, changed into his
panties, and began to do his homework. After about half
an hour, he heard the front door open. He started down
the stairs, meeting Pamela on the landing.
"Sorry I'm late, Bobby," she said breathlessly.
"I'm still trying to sell that industrial tract north
of town and we had these bigwigs in from Detroit. God,
what turkeys. One of them actually tried to make a pass
at me. He got into the car and sat with his leg pressed
up against mine. I just looked at him hard until he
blushed and moved away. He looked like a little kid
caught with his hand in the cookie jar! Sometimes men
are just boys..." She paused to rub Bobby's half-hard
prick. "...but some boys are men."
She collected herself and continued in a less-
conspiratorial, more cool and distant tone. "Bobby, I
need to change out of these clothes. I think that you
should be my chambermaid this afternoon. I'll bet
you'll like that, and you may learn something. Follow
me."
Pamela led the way to her bedroom. She opened the
closet door, and turned her back on Bobby, saying,
"Take off my jacket and hang it up." Bobby pulled her
suit jacket over her shoulders and down her arms,
revealing a medium-weight white silk blouse, damp with
perspiration down the middle of her back. He noticed
rings of moisture, faintly tinged with yellow, around
her armpits.
She turned around and pointed at the floor. Bobby
knelt, and she stood on one leg, holding her foot out
to him. He carefully removed one pump, then the other.
She turned to one side and indicated the buttons on her
skirt. Bobby undid them, then lowered the zipper,
catching Pamela's skirt before it hit the floor. She
stepped out of the garment and Bobby went to hang it in
the closet. When he returned, she pushed him to his
knees again, and pointed at the waistband of her white
half-slip. Bobby deliberately tugged the garment across
her belly and down her legs. She moved out of the cloud
of white nylon, and told Bobby to go to the bathroom
and put it in the hamper. Bobby had never been in her
bathroom before, and he sniffed the air and looked
around as he crossed the threshold. There were many
strange-looking bottles and jars on the counter, but
aside from that it seemed pretty normal to him. Vaguely
disappointed that her private room hadn't been more
exotic, he returned to the bedroom, where Pamela was
still standing.
She smiled at him ruefully. "Now we have to get
rid of these awful pantyhose. I really don't know why I
wear these things -- that's not true, I wear them
because they're quick and easy, but they're even worse
than stockings of a hot day like this. No, wait a
minute -- before you take them off, there's one think I
want to do... Bobby, sit down here with your back to
the bed. That's good, now slouch down a bit and rest
your head on the mattress. Now just stay there."
Pamela knelt on the bed with one leg on either
side of Bobby, and lowered her doubly-covered pussy to
Bobby's face. Pumping her hips and bearing down, she
slid the slick material back and forth across his nose
and lips. "Lick me, Bobby," she urged, "See if you can
make a dent in these things."
Bobby was intoxicated by the scent of Pamela's
sweaty, smelly pussy, and he tried manfully to lick it,
but the taut nylon mesh frustrated him. Pamela let him
work at it for a few minutes before she pulled away to
stand over him. "I think you'd better get these off
now, Bobby, " she directed. Bobby raised his arms to
her waist, pushing his hands under her blouse. He
dragged her pantyhose down her legs, knocking her
bikini panties slightly askew in the process so a tuft
of dark brown pubic hair was visible at the waistline.
He lay back and pulled as she lifted one leg at a time.
She held out her arms and Bobby unbuttoned the sleeves
of her blouse.
Pamela pulled Bobby to his feet and stood before
him expectantly. He raised his hands to her throat and
began to unbutton her blouse. She stared at him
solemnly as he worked his way down her belly. The
garment hung from her shoulders and Bobby gazed at as
much of her light nylon brassiere as he could see. She
shrugged her way out of her shirt and caught it as it
fell from her arms. She fumbled with the blouse for a
moment, found one armpit, and rubbed Bobby's face with
the slick damp cloth. Her acrid aroma clung to his
lips.
And now," she said with an arch expression, "I
want you to take off my brassiere."
Bobby was acutely conscious of the fact that he'd
never seen his aunt's breasts in the flesh, although
he'd certainly spent a lot of time imagining what
they'd look like. His hands trembled as he reached for
the clasp in the valley between them. Awkwardly, he
freed the catch and pushed the cloth to the side.
Pamela's breasts were everything he hoped: full, with
just enough sag to be sensual, large brown aureola
topped with stiff nipples, and a few blue veins running
back and forth. His hands trembled even more as they
resisted the urge to cradle his aunt's warm, soft
boobs.
Pamela saw the look of hunger in her nephew's
eyes, and it quickened her already-rapid heartbeat. She
took a half-step backward. "There's just one thing,"
she purred, "that keeps me from being naked." Bobby
knelt before her and reached for the waistband. She
gently slapped his hands away. "Put your face right
here," she said as she moved his head so that his nose
hovered over her pubic mound, "And take them off
slowly."
Bobby pulled down Pamela's panties, watching her
public hair spring up as the waistband uncovered it. As
he pulled the elastic past his nose, her hair leapt up
to tickle it. Her smells were intoxicating. He didn't
move his face even when Pamela's pants were at her
ankles. She stood there for several minutes, loving the
feeling of having Bobby on his knees with his nose in
her pubic hair. She knew he urgently wanted to kiss and
lick her, but that he was too well trained. She took
pride in knowing that the training was all her doing,
that she had created this delicious situation.
At last, she stepped back, kicking her panties
into Bobby's stomach. "Hang the clothes up," she said
languidly as she lay down on the bed, "Then come back
here."
After a minute, Bobby returned from the bathroom,
his prick making its usual immense protuberance in his
panties. Pamela never grew tired of looking at him this
way. I wonder why men's fashion designers don't make
their clothes with something limp and frilly over their
cocks, she thought. Probably because all the big-time
designers are men. They stick us women with all that
junk; I'd like to see what would happen if the shoe
were on the other foot.
Bobby paused at the end of the bed. Pamela eyed
him contentedly from her reclining position. "You know,
Bobby," she began, "Some chambermaids stop after
undressing their mistresses."
"But sometimes their mistress wants a little extra
personal attention. When that happens, the best
chambermaids give extra service. I'd like some extra
service right now. I feel hot and sweaty, and I'd like
you to soothe me with your tongue. You can start with
my feet."
Bobby knelt at the foot of the bed, and laid his
upper body down on the spread. Pamela moved one of her
feet close to his head. He held her ankle gently in
both hands, paused in momentary confusion, then pressed
his lips to the ball of her foot. What a natural,
thought Pamela; sometimes he needs hardly any direction
at all.
Bobby kissed Pamela's foot softly. She smelled of
leather and perspiration; the combination was
delightful. He licked at the sole of her feet. His
tongue tickled Pamela a bit; she clenched and
unclenched her toes and bit her lip at the intensity of
the delicious feeling. "The toes, Bobby, " she prompted
after a minute or so.
He paused with his lips pressed against the tips
of her toes. Pamela instructed him: "Take each toe in
your mouth and suck on it. Lick me between my toes."
She basked in satisfaction as he obeyed. She pushed her
other foot at him, and he treated it as well as he had
the first one.
"Now lick up my legs," she sighed. Bobby worked
his way slowly and thoroughly over her ankles, calves,
and knees. He licked her thighs, and after a while she
spread her legs, allowing him access to the tender skin
at the very top of her inner thighs. He started to lick
her cunt. "Uh-uh," she demurred, "Skip that part and
start again just below my navel." Bobby reluctantly
moved away from her pussy and scooted up on the bed so
he could kiss the delicate skin between her belly
button and her pubic hair. He worked his way up her
ribcage, and licked the damp, yielding place on the
underside of her breast where it curled under to meet
her ribs. He started to kiss the breast itself, but she
stopped him and rolled on her side so he could lick
under her arm. She was slick and spicy there, with a
faint bitter taste. "Sorry about the deodorant," she
apologized, "I have to wear it when I go out on
business."
"One Saturday when I don't have to work I won't
put any of that stuff on, then I'll go play tennis or
work in the yard until I'm real smelly, then I'll make
you lick me clean. Would you like that, Bobby? Would
you like me to hold your face in my armpit until I'm
bored with you?"
"Mmm-uh," Bobby replied in the affirmative as best
he could while still lapping away. Pamela rolled over
and presented Bobby with her other armpit, which he
attacked enthusiastically.
Pamela lay back as Bobby kissed her neck, ears,
and forehead. He was now lying fully on top of his
aunt. Her legs were slightly spread, and he could feel
her pubic mound against his belly, just below his
navel. He wriggled up a little more, and felt his cock
pressing against her cunt, restrained only by his
panties. Pamela recognized the possibility for things
to get out of hand, but was confident that she could
control her nephew. In fact, she was eager to put Bobby
to this kind of test. She knew that he would like more
than anything in the world to fuck her, and she knew
that he was probably thinking that he might get his
chance now. She let him think about it as he kissed her
cheek.
When he paused with his mouth inches from hers,
she stopped him by saying softly, "Bobby, would you
like to kiss me?"
What a question! Bobby stuttered as he replied,
"Y...yes ma'am."
"Well you can't. At least not now. But I like
knowing that you want to." A pause, lips still poised,
but apart, then, even more softly and seductively:
"Bobby, would you like to make love to me?"
"Oh yes, Aunt Pamela, yes!"
"You can't do that either. Maybe someday, but not
today." She spread her legs wider, raised her knees,
and hooked her ankles over Bobby's calves. She tensed
her muscles, pressing her cunt against Bobby's groin,
and said fiercely, "But I love knowing that you want to
put your big, stiff penis inside my warm, wet vagina."
She pushed Bobby abruptly away from her and rolled
onto her stomach. "Start on my back," she said in a
distant tone, "And work down."
Bobby was flabbergasted by the transition. His
hormones were raging, and he wanted desperately to pull
his cock out of the silly panties and shove it between
his aunt's gorgeous, sexy legs. But she had too much
power over him. He didn't think in terms of the long-
term consequences, he just knew that he had to do what
she said. Numbly, he bent over her and kissed and
licked his way down her back. When he arrived at her
buttocks, he got on all fours and buried his face in
her firm, springy pillows, kissing and biting her
gently. She spread her legs to allow him access to the
crack of her ass. He licked a path down her fragrant
valley; her aroma grew stronger as he progressed. As he
tasted her damp, oily asshole, she thrust her hips
backwards toward him. "Yes, Bobby," She hissed through
her teeth, "Lick me there, right there!" Bobby feasted
on her dark, sweet essence.
After a long time, she rolled over away from
Bobby, and lay on her back with her arms crossed behind
her head. Bobby stayed frozen on his hands and knees,
wondering what was coming now.
"Bobby," she said calmly, "A chambermaid helps
her, uh, his mistress with whatever she needs, not just
in the bedroom, but in the bathroom, too."
"Yes'm?"
"I need to urinate now, and you can help me."
"Yes'm."
"Follow me."
Pamela led Bobby into the bathroom, and pointed at
the commode. "Raise the seat, Bobby."
Bobby complied, then stood back waiting.
"On your knees."
Bobby knelt in front of the toilet.
"Is it clean?"
"Um, I think so, ma'am."
"Put your nose in there and find out."
Bobby leaned his face over the toilet bowl and
inhaled, then said, "It's clean, Aunt Pamela."
Bobby straightened up and Pamela scissored her
legs over Bobby, seating herself on the seat facing
him. She spread her knees about a foot. "Take a good
look, Bobby," she told him. She inhaled deeply, waited
for a few seconds, then her yellow piss gushed into the
bowl, filling Bobby's nostrils with its delicate
pungency. Her stream became intermittent, and she
finished up with two short spurts.
"One of the most important duties of the
chambermaid," she said seriously, "Is to handle the
toilet paper." She glanced over at the roll, and Bobby
hesitantly tore off a few sheets. She spread her legs
fractionally, and Bobby reached between them and patted
her pussy perhaps a little longer than absolutely
necessary.
Pamela put her hand on his wrist. "Smell it," she
said, "That's a part of me too." Bobby brought the
small white bundle to his face and sniffed. He thought
that any part of Aunt Pamela smelled wonderful, and
this was no exception. He smiled and returned the paper
to the toilet bowl.
Pamela stood up and stepped over him, flinging,
"Flush it," over her shoulder as she left.
* * *
When Bobby came back to the bedroom, Pamela was once
again lying on her bed. "I want you between my legs,"
she said simply, counting on him to carry out her
wishes.
Bobby knelt at the end of the bed and lay his body
on the covers, moving his face between Pamela's thighs
as she spread her knees to accommodate him. He found
her sweet, hairy cunt; it was dripping with honey.
Bobby lapped up as much as he could, then played gently
with his aunt's clitoris. She closed her legs around
his head, shutting off the light. Bobby labored in his
dark, perfumed prison for an hour, giving Pamela
several intense orgasms.
Afterwards, she made him get on the bed on all
fours, and pulled his panties down to his knees. She
licked her fingers, and put two of them up her nephew's
pink asshole, finding him more open than usual. She
added a third, and started to stroke his cock gently.
Bobby moaned with pleasure. Wanting to see how far she
could go, Pamela put the tips of all four fingers of
her right hand together, and pressed them against
Bobby's rosebud. They slipped in an inch or so, and
Bobby groaned with a different inflection. Pamela bore
down harder, and drove her fingers in up to the second
knuckles. Bobby's moans took on a slight whimpering
quality. She fucked his asshole with her right hand and
pulled on his cock with her left until he shot his come
into the crotch of his panties. Pamela gave her fingers
a nasty little twist and withdrew them. Bobby's asshole
closed slowly. She pulled his panties up over his hips
and slapped them gently where they were wet with his
come, then dismissed him.
* * *
On a trip to Cedar Rapids for a track meet, Ginny saw a
charity-run second-hand clothing store that looked
promising. Pleading illness, she ducked out of the meet
and drove back to the store, where a smiling, grand
motherly lady helped her pick out a tight, short, black
leather skirt, a black lace garter belt, and a pair of
black patent-leather pumps with nice high heels. Ginny
stuffed the shopping bag in the trunk behind the spare
tire, intending to retrieve it when she got home. As
she drove back to the track, she marveled at how easy
it had been. The saleswoman hadn't even raised an
eyebrow.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
To: louvre@dido.fa.indiana.edu
Subject: SUBMIT aunt_pamela12.txt
Article 32698 of alt.sex.stories:
From: an99635@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 30 Aug 1994 10:53:34 UTC
Subject: Aunt Pamela by Ken Bristol 12/21 (mf, ff, incest, dom, nc)
TWELVE
"Can you factor that, Bobby?"
"Lemme see... Yeah, is that right?"
"Exactly. Has your teacher said anything since I
started to help you with math?"
"No, but she doesn't call on me in class anymore
unless I have my hand up. I guess I've gotten off her
hit list. She's like a wolf -- as soon as she smells
blood, she's all over you. I guess she doesn't smell
any blood on me now."
Pamela leaned over Bobby's shoulder and pointed at
the book. "Do that one," she said and rested her hand
on his arm.
Bobby started to work the problem, but he was
distracted by Pamela's soft touch. He looked confused.
"What's wrong, Bobby," Pamela asked, "You've done
that kind of problem before."
"I know, Aunt Pamela, but I can't think very well
when you touch me like that."
"You mean that just my hand on your biceps keeps
you from thinking about your homework?"
Bobby, slightly abashed, merely replied, "Yes'm."
Pamela's tone became a little colder. "Well,
Bobby, I think there's another kind on discipline that
we need to work on. I want you to do that problem right
there, and I don't want you to be distracted by
anything I do."
Bobby bent to his paper. He wrote:
8x=x^2+x-228
Pamela stood behind Bobby and unbuttoned her
blouse. She dangled it over Bobby's shoulders,
caressing him lightly with the silky material, which
had captured the scent of her perfume. Bobby wrenched
his mind back to his task. Lemme see, he thought, first
let's get everything on one side...
0=x^2+7x-228
"Wrong sign," Pamela chided him as she unhooked
her brassiere and threw it on Bobby's bed where he
could see it.
"Oh, yeah," Bobby said dully as he struggled for
comprehension, "How's this?"
0=x^2-7x-228
"That's better," Pamela whispered as she touched
the nipple of her left breast to Bobby's right
shoulder. Bobby jerked slightly at the contact, then
returned to his original position and moved his
shoulder up and down fractionally. He stared at the
equation. Can I factor that? Shit, I can't think
straight enough for that. Gotta do something simple. He
wrote:
x=(-b+/-sqrt(b^2-4ac))/2a
Pamela leaned over the back of Bobby's chair,
pressing both of her breasts against him. He smelled
the tang of her perspiration. He was acutely aware that
he had never seem her breasts, had dreamed of them
night after night, and now they were pressing against
him and he didn't dare turn around to look. He went
blank. Pamela moved slowly against him. He fought for
the thread, found it, and laboriously made the
substitutions:
x=(-(-7)+/-sqrt(7^2-4(1)(-228))/(2(1))
Bobby reached for his calculator while Pamela
contented herself with resting one hand on Bobby's
neck. He looked off into space. Pamela prompted him
with an insistent, "Bobby...". He worked through the
rest:
x=(7+/-31)/2=38/2,-24/2=19,12
"You could have factored that," Pamela pointed out
in a flat voice. "Now that one."
It was a long evening for Bobby. When he was done
with his drill, Pamela put her clothes back on while he
faced his desk. When she let him turn around, she
looked at him critically. She touched the head of his
cock through his panties, commenting, "You're very wet
there, Bobby. I think this will be a hard lesson for
you, but a good one. You need to thank me."
Pamela removed her panties and placed them in
Bobby's pillowcase with the other pair. She sat on the
bed, spread her legs slightly beneath her skirt, and
pointed to the floor in front of her. When Bobby knelt
in the appointed place, she lifted her skirt slightly.
Bobby put his head underneath, moving eagerly towards
her hot, dark, wetness. She put her hands on the back
of his head through her skirt, and pressed downwards
firmly, Bobby suckled and lapped in aromatic blackness
until Pamela achieved several orgasms. Feeling
contented and powerful, she put him to bed unsatisfied.
* * *
Pamela lay on her back on her bed, her legs spread wide
and her feet braced against the covers. Bobby stood
above her, watching as her pussy oozed sticky juices.
"Come on, Bobby," Pamela pleaded, "You know I need it."
"You know how much I want you to fuck me with that big
cock of yours. Please, stretch me out, fill me up. My
cunt is aching for your prick."
Bobby stroked his staff and smiled down at her.
"Don't worry, Aunt Pamela, I'll fuck you real good.
You'll walk funny for the rest of the day."
"Fuck me now, Bobby. I can't wait any longer."
Bobby knelt between Pamela's legs and rubbed his
cock against her clitoris. She moaned and pleaded with
him. Taking his time, he pushed down on his cock until
the head slipped inside her pussy, then he slowly drove
it in all the way. Pamela gasped, and wrapped her legs
around him so she could pull him closer. Bobby pumped
his hips back and forth roughly as Pamela groaned and
whimpered underneath him. She came almost immediately,
clinging to him and screaming. Bobby fucked her like a
machine, forcing her to orgasm after orgasm. She was
drenched in her own sweat -- it formed beads on her
face and pooled between her breasts and on her belly --
but Bobby stayed cool and calm. Finally, when Pamela
was exhausted, and could barely hold on to Bobby's
muscular arms, he shot great gobs of come into her,
filling up her cunt and giving her one last orgasm. She
fainted...
...And Bobby woke up. He found himself lying on
his stomach with his face in the pillow, Pamela's scent
in his nostrils, and a sticky pool of jism under his
hips. Shit! Just a dream. It had seemed so real...
* * *
The light snapped on, temporarily blinding Bobby.
Pamela walked quickly to his bedside, pulled the covers
down, and sat beside him. Bobby lay on his back and
rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His aunt's fingers
fumbled with the waistband of his panties, pulled them
down and tucked them beneath his balls. The waistband
didn't want to stretch that far, and the band felt
constraining. "I'm getting you up early this morning,
Bobby," said Pamela calmly. "I think you need to do an
extra hour of homework before breakfast."
Bobby protested weakly, but Pamela put her finger
to her lips and he lapsed into silence as she
continued. "I also think that you've been too sexually
excited for your own good." Pamela fingered Bobby's
semi-hard cock evaluatively. "Perhaps I've made a
mistake in that regard, and it's made it harder for you
to concentrate. In any event, I've decided to relieve
your sexual tensions more often." Bobby's dick hardened
rapidly under Pamela's cool touch; she began to stroke
him smoothly and rhythmically. "You will continue to
refrain from touching yourself, of course." Her hand
gripped Bobby's prick firmly as she fisted him. "Maybe
you'll be able to concentrate better. What do you
think?"
"I dunno, Aunt Pamela," the boy replied vaguely.
He felt pressure at the root of his cock, and wasn't
thinking clearly about anything.
"Well, we'll give it a try," his aunt said as she
lengthened her strokes, squeezing the head a bit harder
and twisting her hand over it. That was all it took to
put Bobby over the edge. He filled Pamela's palm with
cream as she twirled her fingers around the crown of
his cock. She wiped her hand on his chest and left the
room without a further word.
* * *
When Bobby came home from school, Pamela invited him
into her bedroom. There, amidst the smells of her
perfume and the sight of her silky underwear scattered
about, she sat fully clothed on the bed and jerked him
off while asking him about his classes. She showed no
interest in his obvious excitement. When Bobby came
with a groan, Pamela cupped her free hand over his cock
to contain the emission, and sent him off to study.
* * *
Before dinner, Pamela called to Bobby from the hall. He
appeared at the door of his room, eyes slightly
unfocused from staring at his work. His aunt crooked
her finger and stepped into the bathroom. Bobby
shuffled after her.
Pamela positioned Bobby in front of the sink, and
stood behind him as she tugged his panties to his
knees. She groped through one of the drawers, found
some lotion, and spread it on her hand. She pressed her
lightweight wool skirt against his bare backside,
reached around, and slipped her slick fingers up and
down his limp dick. It didn't stay limp for long.
Pamela quizzed Bobby on geography until he shot his
load in the sink.
* * *
At bedtime, Pamela made Bobby pull his panties down and
stand by the bed as she sat on his desk chair and
silently manipulated his now-red cock. He took longer
to come this time. Pamela caught his semen in her hand
and examined it critically. There wasn't much, and it
seemed lumpy. She nodded to herself, wiped her hands on
Bobby's panties, and sent him to bed.
* * *
And so it went. For the next week Pamela masturbated
Bobby four times a day, never showing any emotion other
than a cool, distant, solicitude. She took to using a
thick lubricant mixed with various things she found
around the house: dry tea, ground coffee, black pepper
corns, Grape-nuts, uncooked rice, and unpopped popcorn.
Nothing was wholly satisfactory: the cereal got too
soggy; the popcorn and the rice weren't quite sharp
enough; the coffee was messy. The dry tea worked the
best. Pamela particularly liked Formosan Oolong -- the
little leaves twisted themselves into tight curls with
nice sharp edges -- but even they softened unacceptably
during the prolonged sessions that the woman forced on
her nephew. And she was always finding a stray piece of
something around, even though she made Bobby clean up
after she finished him off. She had a hard time
correlating the feeling of the abrasives against her
fingers with what Bobby felt, and she couldn't ask him
without destroying the wall that she had temporarily
built between them: he had to believe that she was a
cold, superior being, who knew his every emotion and
sensation before he did, who toyed with him and used
him expertly for her own satisfaction. Pamela continued
her experiments with hard, sharp bits while jerking her
nephew off, varying her approach so Bobby would never
know quite what to expect. The little grains dug into
the boy's cock, giving him acutely exciting feelings,
but leaving him raw and sore.
* * *
Bobby had rammed his desk chair into the wall, leaving
an ugly scrape. Pamela was cross: she thought the boy
had been careless, and showed a lack of respect. He'd
have to repaint it, but that wouldn't be enough;
somehow she'd make him pay, and pay dearly, for his
heedless ways. The older woman was in the garage
looking for paint that matched the bedroom latex, and
her eye fell on a box of rock salt. Suddenly excited,
she pulled it down from the shelf and sifted the coarse
grains through her fingers. The box was huge, so she
went into the house, got a one-quart measuring cup, and
filled it halfway with the milky-white crystals. It
took her a while longer to find the paint; still, she
felt the search a success -- she had a nasty little
smile on her face as she re-entered the house.
Bobby had become acutely attuned to his aunt's
mood, and he was worried. The anger he could deal with,
but that look on her face nearly always meant trouble
for him.
Pamela hovered over her nephew as he repaired the
damage, keeping up a constant, crabby stream of
suggestions and advice. She was feeling bitchy, and
knowing what she was going to do about it didn't seem
to take the edge off. "Don't get any paint on your
panties, young man, if you know what's good for you,"
she nagged. "And clean those brushes real good, you
hear?"
When Bobby returned to his room after cleaning up
and putting everything away, his aunt was sitting on
his bed, a tube of gel at her side, sifting her fingers
through the rock salt. Bobby recognized the lubricant,
so he knew the rough outlines of what was about to
happen to him. He figured that the whitish substance in
the measuring cup was going to play a prominent role in
his fate, but he had no idea what the stuff was or what
it would feel like.
"On the bed, Robert," the older woman said evenly.
Robert! This had to be serious. In spite of his
trepidation, his cock reach full-stand. It had started
to stiffen the minute he'd seen the lotion, much to the
boy's embarrassment. It was demeaning how much at least
part of him looked forward to the sweet torture that
his aunt visited upon him.
Pamela didn't move from her position on the bed,
forcing the boy to crawl awkwardly around her. She
leaned over him as he lay flat on his back. "Panties at
mid-thigh," she ordered. Bobby raised his hips and
pushed his underwear part way down his legs. His
erection was a humiliating confession of how he felt
about his punishment. "A little higher," she corrected.
He pulled the garment up an inch or so. For some
reason, he got turned on by his aunt's prissy little
corrections, and when she feeling picky it could take a
long time before he was in just the right state to
receive his castigation. "Hands at your sides," she
instructed.
Bobby examined her stern face as he complied. No,
he wasn't going to get off easy this time. He wished he
knew what was in the measuring cup.
"Feet together, Bobby," she said in an aggrieved
tone. "Do I have to go through the whole thing every
time?"
Bobby pressed his ankles tightly against each
other. Some perverse instinct wanted to provoke his
aunt. He let his knees fall about an inch apart.
"Knees, too." This was too much. "You know better
than this." Pamela got up, went to Bobby's desk, and
tore a sheet of paper off his tablet. Returning to her
precious place, she put just the bottom inch or so of
the paper between the boy's knees. "Now clamp that
sheet tight, Bobby. If I see it fall, you're going to
be even sorrier."
Pamela ran her hand over the boy's rigid body,
checking to make sure he was in the precise posture for
her to work her ways on him. "Now remember, Bobby, keep
your eyes on my face the whole time," she said as she
picked up the tube.
Bobby watched as his aunt squeezed a generous
amount of the clear gel into one palm. She rubbed her
hands together to distribute the lotion evenly, then
she gently gripped his prick in both hands. "Are you
sorry?" she asked.
"Yes ma'am."
She moved her hands slowly up and down, squeezing
and releasing. "Sorry isn't good enough, Bobby. You
have to have discipline. It has to be important to
you."
"Yes ma'am." Her chastising words combined with
her erotic touch to send him a wonderfully mixed
message.
"I want you to think of how you can be more
careful in the future, Bobby." She was now masturbating
him smoothly and deftly with her right hand while she
dipped the other into the measuring cup.
"What's that, Aunt Pamela?" asked the boy.
"You'll like it, Bobby," she purred. "It'll feel
real good." She held her nephew's prick lightly between
the thumb and forefinger of her left hand, keeping him
engaged while she covered the right one with hard
little crystals. She wrapped both hands around his
stiff cock, and looked at him significantly. He still
didn't know what the white stuff was, but he could see
the grains clinging to his aunt's hands, and he knew he
was in for something special. She held her pose for a
long time...
...then squeezed her hands together and slid them
roughly down the length of her nephew's helpless
member. The sharp edges of the salt crystals bit into
the soft flesh. Bobby let out a little squeal. "Shut
up, Bobby," Pamela commanded. "I'm not impressed with
your whimperings, do you understand? A little pain will
be good for you. Maybe you won't be so slovenly after
this." The older woman began to work on the boy's glans
as he bit his lower lip. She gauged the effect from the
depth of the furrows on his brow, moderating her
friction so she kept the boy right at the edge between
painful pleasure and just plain pain.
As the punishment wore on, Pamela began to realize
that Bobby was flinching whenever her hands flicked
over the very end of his cock, whether or not there was
any real friction involved. Puzzled, the woman paused
with her forefinger right on the little slit. "Does
this hurt?" she asked.
"Oh yes, Aunt Pamela. It burns."
"Where?"
"Just inside the little hole."
"In your urethra?"
"Uh, I guess so."
Of course! The salt dissolves in the lubricant,
gets inside, and irritates the tissues. This was an
unexpected bonus. "Oh poor baby," Pamela cooed
sarcastically. She removed one hand long enough to spit
in the palm, then rubbed some salt into the wet place
from the heel of her other hand. With a nasty smirk,
she applied the wet, salty palm to the head of her
nephew's dick. Bobby stiffened satisfyingly. "Oh, oh,"
she mocked. "Is his little pee-pee tender? Does it
twinge and burn? I'm so sorry. Maybe he'll be a good
little boy next time." The woman began to stroke the
shaft regularly with her right hand while she used the
left to made sure the slit stayed wet. "You can
ejaculate now, Bobby," she announced. She turned the
sarcasm back on. "Of course, this probably hurts you so
much that you don't even want to. No, sir. This doesn't
excite you at all. Just your aunt being mean to you." A
fountain of semen exploded from the boy's cock; each
spurt burned. "I guess I was wrong," said Pamela,
picking up her things and leaving Bobby lying in his
come.
* * *
Bobby walked into the kitchen, where Pamela was busy at
the counter. "Want some walnuts?" she asked, "I've just
shelled a few."
"Please," replied the boy.
Pamela put a small pile of nut meats on a salad
plate and gave it to Bobby.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said with confused
surprise. Pamela never let him snack in the afternoon.
He stood at her side and watched her take a piece of
cheese cloth and wrap it around the walnut shells. She
set the cloth bundle on the chopping block and hit it
once with the meat tenderizing mallet. Bobby recoiled
slightly at the cracking sound. Pamela hummed to
herself as she hammered on the walnut shells, opening
the cloth from time to time to check on the consistency
of the fragments. The humming worried Bobby. His aunt
had never had a sunny personality, and here she was
acting like Doris Day in some old movie. Oh, well, he
thought as he ate the last walnut, I'll probably find
out soon enough why she's so bubbly.
Right after dinner, he did.
* * *
When Pamela was at the supermarket, she got the idea:
Gloves! How perfect! The selection on the rack wasn't
quite what she wanted, so she visited several hardware
and grocery stores until she found a pair of thin
yellow dishwashing gloves with prominent gripping bumps
on the fingers and the heel of the hand, and a black
sandpaper-like area in the palm for scouring pans. Once
she bought them, she couldn't wait until she got home,
so, as she sat in her car in the parking lot, she
pulled the gloves out of their plastic wrapping and
touched the palms. The coarse abrasive felt rough,
sharp, and rubbery all at the same time. The little
bumps felt like hundreds of tiny fingers, on close
inspection, they were rectangular, about a quarter as
wide as they were long, with edges which, while still
rubbery, bit into her cheek as she rubbed the glove
against it. Aren't those bumps just perfect! Just the
thing for keeping the soapy glass from slipping out of
your hands. Just the thing for Bobby's helpless penis.
To turn him on, and to make him all red and sore at the
same time. What nice little nubbins! She wondered how
they'd feel on her clit (why should the boy have all
the attention?) but pushed the urge aside. Reluctantly,
she started the car and drove home.
* * *
In spite of her good intentions, Pamela couldn't wait.
She lay on her bed with her dress around her waist and
her panties pulled aside, running her gloved middle
finger slowly up and down her crotch. She perfected a
long stroke that started with a full insertion of her
digit in her sloppy-wet vagina. Her oily secretions
clung to the nubs so when she slowly pulled her finger
out and ran the length of it over her sensitive inner
lips and her stiff clit the little knobs flicked
against her flesh, then quickly slipped on, only to be
replaced by the next set of nodules. Pamela sucked in
her breath sharply. She was sure that the same
instrument of her pleasure could, with much heavier
pressure, provide hours of sweet torture to her young
charge.
She heard the door open. At last! She'd give Bobby
a few minutes to get changed into his panties, then
she'd give him the first of his new treatments.
Luckily, she had something agreeable to do in the
meantime. The tiny nubs rubbed her secret places...
* * *
Bobby jumped as his door opened. He could tell
something was different from the expression of savage
anticipation on his aunt's face, even before he saw
what she had on her hands. She pointed at the bed, and
Bobby wordlessly assumed the proper position: flat on
his back, arms tightly against his ribs, hands flat on
the coverlet, legs and feet together. Pamela sat next
to him, and carefully laid her soiled panties and the
tube of lubricant on the spread. A grim little smile
played about her mouth as she pulled at the wristbands
of the gloves, unnecessarily making sure there were
absolutely no wrinkles, and letting them go so they
snapped back with an impressive pop. She leaned forward
and ran her knobbed fingers over her nephew's face,
squeezing and sliding so he'd know just what was in
store for him. He caught a whiff of her musk from when
she had been pleasuring herself.
She was pretty sure he hadn't noticed the palms
when she put the gloves on -- she'd kept them away from
his sight as much as she could -- so she used just the
little rubber knobs as she slipped her hands over his
face and neck. Then, watching carefully for the boy's
reaction, she placed her palm flat against Bobby's
cheek, pressed, and pulled her hand down his jaw line.
He jumped at the raw, scraping sensation. Pamela
inspected his cheek; it was slightly, but noticeably,
reddened.
While her nephew was still dealing with the
implications of what had happened to his face, Pamela
squeezed a generous helping of gel into one palm and
rubbed her hands together, spreading the slippery goo
evenly. Bobby's eyes widened as she flipped down his
panties and reached for his stiff dick. She manipulated
him with her fingers, then wrapped her hand around his
shaft, pressing the palm against the loose skin so it
wouldn't abrade him before she was ready. Using fairly
light pressure, she stroked him up and down, letting
the rubber protuberances slid easily up the shaft, then
sweeping her bumpy fingers over Bobby's velvety crown.
Pamela judged her grip mostly by the look on her
nephew's face, but as time went by, she found that she
could get enough information just by feel. When the
little nubbins slipped over the boy's skin, there was
just the slightest vibration as the lumps bit into the
flesh, bent sideways, and finally slipped. She glanced
down: Bobby's fingers dug deeply into the coverlet .
It was time to find out how well the gloves' other
feature worked. With no warning, Pamela changed her
stroke so her palm slipped over her nephew's soft
helmet. His reaction was instantaneous: a sharply drawn
breath and a crimped, constricted look about his mouth.
It was exactly what she wanted. Wanting to keep the
boy's feelings sharp, she was careful not to overuse
the rough black palms; maybe one stroke in a hundred,
at random times, and once, when he was close to coming,
three times in a row to keep him on his toes.
Pamela played her nephew like a violin, taking him
up and letting him fall back, squeezing harder with her
fingers, then giving him a respite, swiping her palm
over his tender skin, then working the base while he
rested. After half an hour, she let him come, treating
him more and more roughly as she brought him higher and
higher. A thin film covered his chest, and she could
smell the sharp secretions from his armpits. She
squeezed even harder and a shot of white jism rose high
up and splattered against the boy's forehead. When she
finally released Bobby's tormented member, his face and
hair were covered in his own come. Pursing her lips in
concentration, she picked up her panties, arranged her
fingers behind the stained, funky crotch, and wiped his
face with cold efficiency.
* * *
Pamela, inspired by finding the perfect instruments for
her nephew's torment, redoubled her efforts, if not in
frequency, at least in intensity and duration. The
sessions continued four times a day, but they grew
longer and longer, until Bobby was spending most of his
waking hours at home with his cock gripped in his
aunt's gloved hand. His abused penis was tender and
painful all the time, especially when he got an
erection -- which, amazingly, happened regularly,
sometimes in the oddest places. He'd be sitting in
class, and a girl sitting next to him would raise her
arm, pressing her breast against her blouse. At
sixteen, this was not a minor enticement. His cock
would twitch and grow a bit. Before, his erection would
go away as rapidly as it came, but now the slightest
rush of blood into his dick made it itch, and the
itching made him conscious of it, and thinking about it
made him think of his aunt, and that made him rock-
hard, and his stiff prick would ache like crazy. If he
finally got himself under control, he'd be in the
cafeteria and a girl would bend over to pick something
up, Bobby would see the outline of the seams of her
panties through her slacks -- the line that marked the
beginning of the gusset in the crotch particularly
turned him on -- and the whole process would start over
again. He got used to carrying something in front of
his belly to keep people from seeing his rod.
Pamela, in search of a lubricant that wouldn't
moderate the sharpness of the little nubs so much,
began to mix the KY with thinners. Water helped.
Rubbing alcohol was even better: it cooled the boy's
dick as well as providing a clinical aroma completely
appropriate to the detached, distant mood that the
woman strove for most of the time. Then she tried witch
hazel, and she knew she was onto something good. When
combined with a tiny bit of gel, the thin stuff gave
just the right amount of friction, and the intensity of
the mixed feelings of coolness and warmth the lotion
brought to Bobby's sensitive tissues showed in his wide
eyes as she squeezed his shaft mercilessly through the
ribbed rubber.
Bobby's dick grew so sensitive that Pamela's touch
was exquisitely intense even on the rare occasions when
she just used her hands. His aunt always remained fully
clothed during her masturbation sessions, undressing
only when it was time for him to service her, which
wasn't always often enough; sometimes when Bobby was in
class she fingered herself furiously while she reveled
in the images of her practiced, detached, heartless,
unrelenting fingers on his weak, defenseless dick.
To: louvre@dido.fa.indiana.edu
Subject: SUBMIT aunt_pamela13.txt
Article 32695 of alt.sex.stories:
From: an99635@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 30 Aug 1994 10:52:35 UTC
Subject: Aunt Pamela by Ken Bristol 13/21 (mf, ff, incest, dom, nc)
* * *
Ginny shoved more newspaper into the door-latch, then
closed the door again. She pushed hard on the knob with
one hand. Nothing. She turned the knob and opened the
door so she could put more paper in, then she shut the
door and leaned on it again. She felt resistance, then
heard a click, and the door swung open. She closed the
door and tried again. The paper had compressed a bit,
so she had to push really hard before it swung open.
She added one more wad, and forced it open several
times. The girl smiled thinly to herself as she dug the
paper back out, keeping the shreds so she'd know how
much to use next time. This was gonna work.
* * *
Just as suddenly as she had started, Pamela
discontinued Bobby's regular masturbation; in fact, she
allowed him no release whatsoever, although he
continued to serve her needs daily. The shy boy didn't
know what to make of it, but he was afraid to ask her
about it. After two days, he was horny all the time;
after four, he couldn't think about anything but sex;
after a week, he was jumpy as a colt. Pamela observed
the signs with increasing satisfaction.
* * *
Bobby sat at his desk, studying without enthusiasm. His
interest in the girls at school had plummeted since he
moved in with his aunt, but the idea of being alone on
a Saturday night seemed depressing. He was starting to
feel a little sorry for himself when he heard a sound
in the hallway. His aunt opened the door -- she never
knocked -- and stepped across the threshold. The young
boy turned around, not believing his eyes as Pamela
posed in the doorway. She wore a translucent baby doll
negligee, and her breasts swayed back and forth, making
slow waves in the filmy material. The top hung only
slightly below her waist, and her dark bush was plainly
visible through the lace-trimmed panties. She wore more
rouge and eye makeup than usual: the effect was a
little tarty, but extremely erotic.
Pamela ran her tongue slowly over her heavily-
lipsticked mouth, and said in a sultry voice, "Would
you like some company?"
"I'll say. Jeeze, you look sexy tonight, Aunt
Pamela."
She crossed to his chair, and ran both hands over
his shoulders and down his chest, her filmy gown
touching lightly against his back. "It's been hard on
you this week, hasn't it?"
"You mean, not..." Bobby was at a loss for words.
The older woman pinched the boy's nipples with her
fingernails. "Yes, that's what I mean. You've done very
well -- no whining, no complaining." One hand drifted
down to his lap and brushed his erection through his
panties; Bobby bit his lip, but didn't move. Pamela
continued in a soft, tender voice. "I can see you're in
need. Would you like me to take care of you?"
"Yes, Ma'am." His voice cracked.
"Then follow me." She turned and left the room.
Bobby pulled himself to his feet and padded along
behind his aunt, watching her creamy white ass roll
liquidly inside the sheer panties. She led him to her
bedroom. The lights had been turned low, and perfume
scented the air. Pamela sat on the edge of the bed, and
favored her nephew with a smoldering look. His head
swam. His aunt raised her hand, and slowly crooked her
finger at him. Eager, but somehow fearful at the same
time, the young boy advanced towards his waiting aunt.
He stopped a few feet away, but she beckoned again,
spreading her legs to make room for him. Finally he
stood with his swollen dick just inches from Pamela's
full, red lips. She brought her hands up to the
waistband of his panties, and eased the garment over
his slim hips, slowly unveiling her nephew's bulging
tool. Leaving his underwear halfway down his thighs,
Pamela sought the boy's genitals with both hands,
squeezing his balls with her fingernails while she
pulled the loose skin around his cock slowly up and
down. After a minute, a clear drop emerged at the tip;
using her thumb in a less-than-gentle fashion, the
woman spread the liquid evenly over the crown as
Bobby's knees sagged. Pamela kept rubbing long after
the fluid had ceased to provide any lubrication; the
friction caused a mixture of sharp pleasure and
discomfort that made Bobby shift his weight from foot
to foot.
The older woman opened her mouth wide, and drew it
close to Bobby's engorged prick. Without actually
touching the angry purple head she put her lips around
it, drew away, looked up at Bobby's face, and tried
again from a slightly different angle. After the forth
or fifth time, just when Bobby began to realize that
his aunt was just playing with him, Pamela drew away.
"Bobby, I know that you're very excited, and that you
want very much to ejaculate. I promise you that you
will. But first, you must pleasure me." She put out her
hands to Bobby, gripped his wrists, and pulled herself
to her feet, then pushed significantly on his
shoulders. The young boy sank to his knees in front of
his aunt. She grabbed him by the hair, and held his
head still while she rubbed her silk-covered pussy
against his face. Bobby, entranced by his aunt's strong
woman-scent, meekly let her control him.
"Take them off," she said huskily, releasing him.
He reached for her panties, but she held up her hand.
"With your mouth," she admonished. Careful to avoid
biting her, Bobby tugged at his aunt's underwear with
his lips and teeth. The older woman didn't make it easy
on him; she moved about frequently, preventing the boy
from getting good purchase. It took him a long time to
pull her thin black panties down far enough to expose
her dark brown bush.
Tiring of the game, Pamela pushed the boy away,
shucked her drawers down her legs and tossed them away.
She sank down onto the bed, wriggling back until her
head rested on the pillow, and drew her legs up and
apart. The older woman's puffy pussy lips, wet with her
secretions underneath her dark hair, glistened in the
dim light. Bobby, drawn as if by a magnet, prostrated
himself between his aunt's legs and reached out his
tongue to her pungent, sticky core. She grabbed the boy
by the ears and held him in place as he gave her two
shuddering orgasms.
After Pamela came down, she lifted one leg and
rolled Bobby over on his back. She walked sideways and
forward on her knees, pinning her nephew's shoulders
under her calves. As he looked up, he saw his world
eclipsed as his aunt covered his face with her ass. The
boy sought his aunt's furrowed opening with his tongue,
while she spat on the palm of her right hand, and
wrapped it around his throbbing member. Bobby gasped in
relief, but his aunt smothered his outburst by sitting
on him harder. She gripped his cock tightly, and fisted
it smoothly, forcing an almost-immediate ejaculation.
Bobby, who was having trouble breathing, expected
his aunt to move away, but she scooped up his semen and
used it on her hand as she kept up the friction on his
dick, which softened slightly, but quickly regained its
stiffness. As she bore down hard enough to drive the
boy's head back into the mattress, she jerked him
roughly to another orgasm.
The boy's spunk covered his stomach and chest, and
his aunt slithered through it as she worked her way
down his body. She sat on his lower belly, reached
between her legs, and dug around in her nephew's slimy
genitals. His cock was soft, so she moved on to his
balls. Working mostly with her fingernails, she pinched
all around his sack. The little spikes of pain made
Bobby twitch as he lay pinned by her weight. Using the
same approach, Pamela attacked her nephew's inner
thighs. By the time she returned to his cock, it was
half-hard. She tweaked the head with her sharp nails.
Bobby squeaked in astonished distress, but his aunt
ignored his outcry, worked her way around the crown,
then started on the loose skin on the underside of his
dick. In spite of his protests, Bobby was getting stiff
again. Knowing that the boy couldn't see what was going
on, Pamela pulled Bobby's dick upright, pressed it
against her clitoris, and worked her hips back and
forth. Delicious thrills darted through her loins.
Dipping her fingers in her pussy, she transferred the
oily fluid to her palm and began to jerk her nephew off
again. Bobby stared at his aunt's buttocks as she
brought him off one more time.
Bobby though sure his ordeal was over as his aunt
scissored her legs over him and sat on his thighs
facing the other way. A smug, contented expression
dominated Pamela's face. She was hot and sweaty and
wanted to be free of her top. She crossed her hands at
her waist, drew it off and threw it on the floor in one
smooth motion, then reached back and unhooked her black
brassiere. The woman's breasts swayed from side to side
in the dim lamplight, the globes moist with
perspiration, her nipples hard and pointed. Some of her
eye makeup ran down her cheek, giving her a demented
appearance. Bobby stared in spite of his torpor.
Slowly, triumphantly, Pamela scooped the mixture of her
oily secretions and Bobby's jism off his belly, wiped
his face with it, then ran her fingernails down his
belly and reached for his soft, pliant penis. The older
woman scooted up on her nephew's thighs until her cunt
pressed against his balls.
"My cock," she announced as she squeezed it in her
fist. It was so mushy and slick that it almost squished
out of her hand. "You want to watch me jerk off, don't
you , Bobby."
The boy was too confused to answer.
"Sure you do, Bobby. You want to watch me beat my
meat. You want to see me squirt. C'mon, say it."
"Uh, I want you to."
Pamela felt a little more resistance as she
rhythmically squeezed Bobby's prick. "You can do better
than that, boy. What do you want me to do."
"J..Jerk me, uh, you off."
"It may take a while. I don't care, though. I can
jerk off all night."
Bobby hoped it wouldn't come to that. His dick was
already sore, but it was almost hard. His aunt fisted
it with one hand while she humped her pelvis back and
forth. The boy looked hard at the place where their
bodies joined. It did look kinda like it was her cock,
not his. Now silent, Pamela expertly masturbated her
supine nephew. It did take a long time. Bobby's dick
ached. Sweat dripped down the woman's neck and onto her
breasts; their motion tossed droplets over the boy's
chest. Pamela's eyes held a demonic intensity as they
bored into Bobby's. After fifteen or twenty minutes,
Pamela felt a twitch in her palm. "I'm coming," she
announced. She leaned back enough to lift one hand free
of the bed, and, without slackening the pace, she
slapped her nephew's cheeks hard enough to sting as
intense spasms shook his body.
* * *
"C'mon, Bobby, we'll get you cleaned up," said Pamela
softly.
The boy stirred from his leaden reverie and
followed his aunt into the bathroom, standing dully by
as she sat on the side of the tub and opened the taps.
Only an inch of water flowed in before she shut them
again, and motioned Bobby to get in.
"Is that enough?" he protested hesitantly.
"Just get in, Bobby." The steel in her voice made
him respond instantly, and rebuked him for questioning
her in the first place.
The boy clambered into the tub, and lay back while
his aunt reached across him for the soap. She splashed
water onto his body, worked up a good lather with her
hands and spread it over his chest, working it into the
muscles with her fingers. She worked her way down his
body to his flat stomach. It felt more like a massage
than a soaping to Bobby, but he wasn't complaining:
whatever it was, it felt great. The woman moved her
hands up to his shoulders and dug slippery tracks down
his arms, then she straightened up, splashed some water
on her breasts, and soaped them while she eyed her
nephew provocatively. She leaned over the boy and
rubbed her slick, soft globes against his chest. He
thought he'd gone to heaven. The feeling grew more
intense as his aunt twisted her body around and
patiently and thoroughly kissed him, exploring his
mouth with her tongue. He slackened his lips and let
her have her way with him, not even trying to kiss her
back. The feeling was sensuous, but Bobby's penis
remained flaccid. He wondered we he'd be able to get it
up again. Probably not for a day or two, he thought,
I've never felt as drained as this.
Pamela pulled away and stood up. Placing a hand on
the side of the tub for support and fluttering the
other one awkwardly in the air, she climbed into the
tub and knelt between Bobby's legs. She found the soap,
relathered, and covered the boy's cock and balls with
suds, squishing his limp dick rhythmically in her
hands. The warm foam and his aunt's firm touch felt so
good that Bobby's tool swelled slightly. The boy felt
the change and was amazed and confused. Pamela just
smiled to herself.
When the boy was half-hard, his aunt stopped. "Put
your feet up," she ordered. Bobby wedged one foot into
the corner where the top of the tub and the wall came
together, and braced the other against the far wall.
The new position gave the woman easy access to her
nephew's backside, and she was quick to take advantage.
Resoaping her hands, she plunged them between the boy's
buttocks, probing for his tender asshole. Wasting no
time, she drove the middle and ring fingers of her left
hand deep inside her nephew's rectum. The older woman
wriggled her fingers in Bobby's soft membranes as she
gripped his cock with her soapy right hand. It was hard
enough that she could jerk him off, so she ran her fist
up and down the shaft, squeezing hard as she
encountered the head.
To the boy's surprise and his aunt's satisfaction,
he soon achieved a full stand. This was the older
woman's cue to renew her assault on her nephew's
bottom. She pulled her hand most of the way out, moved
her index finger over the other two, and pressed all
three up the boy's butt. Bobby grunted at the attack.
Pressing her advantage, Pamela added her little finger
to the group, and drove forward as far as the second
knuckle. Bobby began to be concerned, but the slippery
motions of his aunt's right hand on his dick dominated
his perceptions. The dark-haired woman pulled her left
hand part way out and let go of her nephew's cock long
enough to drip soap into the palm. She extended her
thumb so that it lay between her index and little
fingers, and pressed forward again. Her fingers slipped
easily in to the second knuckle, but after that she had
to press much harder. She found that there was less
resistance if she turned her hand sideways, but the
force of her invasion still made Bobby slip several
inches up the tub. Bobby bit his lip as the pressure
built. It hurt, but he refused to cry out. Suddenly
Pamela's whole hand slipped inside her nephew's nether
passage.
In spite of his resolve, Bobby yelped briefly as
his aunt overcame his defenses, but soon regained
control. The pain was fading, but he felt impossibly
full, and they way the woman moved her fingers in his
guts made him uneasy; his sphincter clamped hard around
her wrist.
"I'm fucking you, Bobby." The words made startled
the boy. "I'm fucking you up your ass." The woman began
to push her hand in and out in time with her fist on
the boy's cock. Pamela wasn't gentle, and Bobby scooted
back and forth in the shallow water. "You like getting
fucked, don't you, boy. You like Aunt Pamela's fist up
your ass. I can tell by your dick. You're gonna come
again." It was true. Bobby could feet the pressure
build, in spite of all the previous ejaculations. "Fuck
you, Bobby," the woman taunted him, "Just fuck you."
The crazy words drove him over the edge, and the boy
spasmed helplessly under his aunt's complete control.
* * *
Late that night, Bobby lay on his back in his bed, his
eyes staring blankly upwards. The night breeze rustled
the branches of the trees outside his window, and the
streetlight made intricate, shifting shadows on the
ceiling, but the images in Bobby's head were internal.
His aunt's fiery passion had affected him deeply. He
was used to her control, and he had grown to love it.
He was powerfully affected by her intense sexuality.
But he'd never imagined the frenzied, cruel, fierce
woman who took him that night. If the boy had harbored
any lingering resistance to his Pamela's domination,
they had vanished in the storm of her assault. Bobby
would do anything, anything at all, to see again that
ferocious, impassioned lust in his aunt's eyes.
To: louvre@dido.fa.indiana.edu
Subject: SUBMIT aunt_pamela14.txt
Article 32694 of alt.sex.stories:
From: an99635@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 30 Aug 1994 10:52:28 UTC
Subject: Aunt Pamela by Ken Bristol 14/21 (mf, ff, incest, dom, nc)
TWELVE
Pamela noticed the change in Bobby right away. It was
subtle, but important. He was totally, completely hers.
Having achieved her goal, she felt some of the
anticipated satisfaction, but a vague, uncomfortable
sense of loss beset her. The domination games weren't
as much fun any more; not only did the boy offer no
resistance at all, he seemed to welcome whatever
privations Pamela visited upon him. The older woman
felt like a bronco buster with only a tame horse to
ride.
* * *
Pamela awoke, conscious of an urgent need to relieve
herself. She padded for the bathroom, but as she
crossed the threshold she had an idea. She had been
looking for a test of Bobby's progress, and it suddenly
came to her. She walked uncomfortably to Bobby's room
and shook him roughly. He awoke with a start, and she
tugged wordlessly on his hand. Bobby trailed sleepily
behind her as she led him into her bathroom. She slid
back the shower door and stepped inside, beckoning
Bobby. Once in the shower, she leaned against the cool
white tile and pointed to the floor. Bobby knelt
obediently. She looked down at him as he stared
blearily upwards. "Bobby," she said, "I just got up,
and my bladder is full."
"In the morning my urine is very strong and dark.
This morning, I don't want to waste my urine in the
toilet. This morning, I think there's a better place
for it." She shrugged her shoulders in a way that
pushed her away from the wall of the shower, and took a
half-step towards Bobby, spreading her legs as she did
so. Her next words were soft, but carefully phrased.
"Can you think of a better place for my urine, Bobby?"
Slowly, sleepily, Bobby opened his mouth. Pamela
felt a surge of triumphant energy followed by an urgent
need for release. She moved her hips slightly for
better aim, put the middle fingers of each hand an inch
or two outside her cunt lips, pulled them apart, and
spurted her strong morning piss between Bobby's waiting
lips. She was full, and his mouth soon brimmed over,
spilling her dark yellow urine down his cheeks. She
cocked her hips so her stream splashed against her
nephew's nose while she watched her golden liquid drip
off his chin. She finished by pressing her pussy
against his mouth as she squeezed off the last
intermittent discharges. "Swallow," she commended, and
dropped her fingers to his neck so she could feel his
Adam's apple bob.
* * *
Yes, he'd done very well. In fact, she could have hoped
for nothing better. Perfect obedience, even
anticipation of her wishes, and almost by reflex; the
boy had been too sleepy for much else. It was time for
their relationship to enter a new phase. She struggled
wistfully with her recollections of the last few weeks,
hoping that she'd enjoy the change as much as she knew
Bobby would.
* * *
Bobby, properly dressed, reported to his aunt as usual.
The older woman gave the teenager a long, searching
look, nodded to herself, and arose from the couch.
"Follow me, Bobby," she instructed as she crossed the
living room and started up the stairs. The boy followed
his aunt to her bedroom. "Give me your panties," she
ordered. Bobby pushed his underwear down his legs,
freeing his cock to bob up and down. Pamela took the
offered garment, and inspected it critically, even
though such small attempts at humiliation had ceased to
produce any noticeable effects. Tossing the panties
aside, she said softly, but with underlying intensity,
"Lie on the bed, Bobby."
The boy lay on his back while his aunt rooted
through a dresser drawer, finally coming up with a
tangled skein of rope. He watched in mild confusion as
she straightened one of the lengths out, and looped it
several times around his ankles. When his feet were
tightly bound, the older woman sat by his shoulders.
"Hands above your head," she ordered in a detached
manner. Pamela brought her nephew's wrists together and
tied them to each other, then she took the rest of the
rope, looped it through the headboard, and made it part
of the main knot. The older woman stood up and went to
the foot of the bed, where she tugged on the boy's feet
until he was stretched out straight and the ropes that
bound his wrists to the headboard were taught.
Satisfied, she started to undress.
Bobby watched with burning eyes as his aunt
disrobed. His mouth grew dry as he realized she was
taking everything off. When she was down to just her
panties, she teased him a little, posing with her hands
on her hips, turning around and pulling the garment up
into the crack of her ass, then lowering the waistband
slowly. Finally, she stood naked before him, the look
of distant control starting to be replaced by fire.
Pamela knelt on the bed straddling Bobby's feet.
She slowly worked her way up his body, pausing as she
spanned his loins to rub her clit with his hard dick.
Bobby moaned at the soft, slippery warmth, but his aunt
soon moved on up his body, pressing her cunt against
first his belly, then his chest. When she finally
lowered her pussy to his waiting mouth, he eagerly
applied his tongue to all her favorite places. Pamela
gripped the headboard and braced herself as she took
her first orgasm from her bound nephew. For the second,
she held his head and fucked his face as he tried to
follow with his tongue, finally coming with most of her
weight on Bobby's bruised lips.
Breathing raggedly, the older woman wriggled her
way back down her nephew's body, this time leaving a
shiny, sticky trail of her secretions on his chest and
belly. She stopped at the boy's hips, lifting her pussy
away from his body, reaching down to take his cock
delicately between her thumb and middle finger, and
bringing the head to the mouth of her dripping cunt.
She eyed Bobby significantly for a moment. The boy
stared back, his mouth slack, desperately craving, but
not daring to hope. Wordlessly, Pamela sat down,
enveloping her nephew's prick. She moved her hips in
little circles, a keening sound escaping her lips. He
felt so good, so big, so hard, so young, so... so hers.
She rode her nephew expertly, thrusting her hips back
and forth and complex, controlled patterns. This one's
for him, she thought as tightened her pussy muscles.
For his part, Bobby was immersed in an agony of
pleasure and frustration. His aunt felt wonderful:
tight, slippery, warm. The lustful look on her face
excited him immensely. He longed desperately for
release, but was sure his aunt wouldn't allow it
without her permission. He strained against the ropes.
Belatedly, Pamela recognized the signs. "It's all
right, Bobby," she said softly. "Go ahead. Fill me up."
The boy let go, pumping his hot jism into his aunt's
tight, hot cunt, twisting back and forth in his
ecstasy. His aunt met each of her trusts with one of
hers.
Pamela let her nephew rest for a minute or so,
moving her hips in small, slow circles, then she picked
up the pace as she rode his still-hard cock. It was so
nice to have such a young, virile stallion. She leaned
forward, pressed back with her hips, and cocked her
pussy so her clit pressed against the boy's tool. With
her hands on his chest and her fingernails tweaking his
nipples, the older woman rode her nephew to a violent
orgasm. Bobby dutifully held back, letting his aunt use
him as she wished.
Pamela was sweating heavily with the exertion and
the excitement. Rivulets ran down her breasts and over
her stomach to add to the pool of secretions collecting
on her nephew's belly. A few strands of hair had
escaped from her bun and drifted about her face. She
leaned forward and explored her nephew's mouth with her
tongue, then straightened up and got back to the
serious fucking. He filled her up so nicely. He looked
so helpless all tied up like that. He was hard and
vigorous, could fuck all day and wouldn't come until
she told him to. She could have him whenever she
wanted. It was wonderful. She felt herself climbing to
another climax. Could she share this one? Sure, she
could. "Get ready, Bobby. You can climax when I tell
you. Getting close... Almost there... NOW." The boy
spurted on command, as his aunt jerked spasmodically.
Yes, it was just perfect.
* * *
The front door closed, and Ginny heard her mother's
brisk steps down the walk. There was a click as Ellen
opened the car door; she slammed it shut and worked the
starter, which ground uselessly once, twice. The aging
engine finally caught.
Ginny returned to the kitchen, where her father
sat at the table. Butch seemed nervous, which wasn't
like him at all. He rustled his newspaper, read for a
few seconds, but seemed unable to concentrate and got
up to pour himself another cup of coffee. Ginny sat
down and idly leafed through the TV section while her
father paced back and forth. She was probably as
nervous as he, but she was doing a better job of
controlling it, but she had a good reason. Butch sat
down again, drank a few sips of coffee, fiddled some
more with the newspaper, then got up and ambled off in
the direction of his bedroom. Ginny gave him a 10
second head start, and followed. She came around the
corner into the hallway just as her father closed the
door to the bedroom. She listened critically to the
sound the latch made. Just right, she thought, Enough
to hold it closed for now, but not enough to stand up
against a good hard shove. Butch locked the door, and
Ginny turned and entered her own bedroom, closing the
door behind her.
The teenager had second thoughts as she pulled the
clothes out from under the mattress. Last chance to
back out, she thought as she undressed and shook out
the black garter belt. She secured it around her waist
and sat down on the bed to pull on the sheer black
stockings. You're working without a net now, girl. If
this doesn't come off, you'll be in real trouble. Ginny
put on a low-cut black brassiere, bent over and
wriggled from side to side, and fastened the clasp
behind her. She stepped into the black leather skirt,
tightened her stomach muscles, and drew the zipper,
then rummaged in the closet and came up with the high
heeled pumps, which she put on while she steadied
herself on the door jamb.
Ginny crossed her arms, set her jaw, and tossed a
hard look in the direction of the closet mirror. You're
a sexy little number, she thought, but that's not quite
it. She sat at her dressing table and worked on her
eyes until her eyelids were dark blue, then she put
what, under most circumstances, would have been too
much blush high on her cheekbones. Much better, she
thought. She rose, took two deep breaths, and walked
into the hallway.
The young girl paused outside her father's bedroom
door. She wanted to wait, she wanted to run, she wanted
to do anything but what she had promised herself she
was going to do. Conscious that if she waited another
minute, she'd get cold feet, she raised her hand to the
door, took half a step forward, and pushed hard.
The door resisted for an instant, then flew open
abruptly. Ginny's father lay naked on the bed,
balancing one of the magazines on the bed with his left
hand while stroking his angry red cock with his right.
He stared at his daughter, immobilized by shock and
horror. Ginny stalked to the bedside, aware that she
had but a few seconds to establish her dominance. She
folded her arms across her chest and stood with her
legs apart. She barked the words she'd rehearsed: "On
your knees!"
Butch dropped the magazine as if were hot.
Consumed with guilt, his mind froze, and his body took
over, rolling off the bed and kneeling head down, in
front of his daughter.
A wild surge of joy coursed through the teenager
as she gazed down at her father. She was winning! "Head
back!" she ordered.
Butch raised his eyes to his daughter's face. Her
eyes, framed dramatically in the dark eye shadow,
sparked with anger and determination. She reached down
with both hands, grasped the hem of her tight leather
skirt, and pulled it slowly upwards, stepping forward
until her black bush hovered over her father's
astonished face. "Eat it!" she growled.
Butch was beginning to come to his senses. He knew
he'd been caught, and his main concern was not that his
daughter knew, but that she'd tell Ellen. He knew he'd
made a mistake in obeying Ginny's initial orders, but
he wasn't committed yet. But now, here was someone who
was finally allowing him to fulfill his fantasy,
someone who would make him grovel, someone who would
order him around, someone who would make him do
humiliating things. That it was his own daughter struck
terror in his heart, but also made the humiliation, and
thus the attraction, more complete. The smell of
Ginny's young pussy filled his nostrils. He knew he was
weak, that this was wrong, but he was powerless before
his long-surpressed urges. With a little sob, he
pitched forward and lapped greedily at his daughter's
hairy cunt.
Ginny felt victorious and powerful as she reached
down with both hands, buried them in her father's hair,
and pulled him roughly against her. She stepped forward
and forced his head backwards until he was looking
straight up as he licked and sucked at her pink,
slippery flesh. His eyes found hers as she stared down
in triumph. She moved her hips a little and finally
allowed herself to enjoy the sensations that emanated
from her groin. Ellen loved having her cunt licked, and
Butch sometimes buried his face between her legs for
half an hour at a time, imagining all the while that
she was making him eat her. He had thus acquired a set
of oral skills far beyond anything Ginny had ever
experienced; he drove his daughter wild with his
active, supple tongue, and made her come more quickly
than she'd intended -- she'd planned to make him work
for a while before giving him the satisfaction of
seeing her come. The teenager groaned and bore down
heavily on her father's face as her stomach muscles
contracted in quick little spasms.
Butch's neck hurt as his daughter shifted more of
her weight onto him. Her sweet taste made him hold his
ground and ignore the pain. He kept on licking as his
daughter's juices began to flow, covering his lips and
cheeks, and even dribbling down his neck as they mixed
with his saliva. Ginny thrust with her hips, and Butch
fell backwards. She followed him down and sat on his
face as he lay on the floor, still licking. Suddenly,
Ginny reversed herself on her father, kneeling over him
as she faced his feet. She pulled herself upright and
rocked her hips back and forth over Butch's mouth. She
pushed farther forward than she had intended and felt
her father's warm, wet tongue slip between her slim
buns. She sat back on him and he eagerly probed her
asshole. It's so easy, she thought, delighting in the
delicious sensations and the feeling of power and
control. For the first time, she felt confident enough
to say things beyond simple orders. "Lick my butt,
Daddy," the young girl urged. "Get your tongue up my
asshole. Tastes good, doesn't it? You love it down
there, don't you? You're just a natural butt-licker."
Butch couldn't believe how excited he got when his
daughter talked to him like that. When she reached down
and gripped his thick penis with a hand that barely
closed around it, he moaned; when she fisted him
rapidly up and down, he soon shot white semen all over
his chest. Ginny shifted her hips so that he was once
more licking her clitoris, and made him give her two
more orgasms before she stood up and walked rapidly out
of the room, not trusting her ability to dominate her
father when he wasn't consumed by desire.
To: louvre@dido.fa.indiana.edu
Subject: SUBMIT aunt_pamela15.txt
Article 32712 of alt.sex.stories:
From: an99635@anon.penet.fi
Date: Tue, 30 Aug 1994 12:21:46 UTC
Subject: Aunt Pamela by Ken Bristol 15/21 (mf, ff, incest, dom, nc)
THIRTEEN
Bobby raised his head from the history book and
searched out the shadowed clock face. Nine-thirty. That
should just about do it. He was a couple of day's ahead
anyway. Amazing how much you can get accomplished when
you don't have any distractions. Well, make that one
distraction. He heard his aunt's footfalls in the hall,
and listened with eager anticipation as she paused
before his door. She waited a long time, turning the
latch once and then releasing it, but not entering.
Finally, she pushed the door aside and stepped across
the threshold.
Bobby's eyes widened as he saw his aunt dressed in
some floor-length pink diaphanous wrap that failed to
conceal the hazy brown-capped outlines of her breasts
and the shadowy triangle below her belly. Hair rich,
black hair, released from its usual bun, flowed
liquidly down her back. She spoke sweetly, almost
girlishly: "It's bedtime, Bobby."
"Yes, ma'am. I'm ready."
"Maybe you'd like to go to bed in a different
place tonight."
Bobby struggled with the implications of that. He
wondered what new torture she had in store for him.
"Uh, where..."
"Would you like to lie down in my bed?"
This couldn't be happening. It had to be a trick.
Nothing to do but play it straight. Don't come on to
strong, though. She's just gonna use it on you.
"Yes'm."
She held out her hand. He took it shyly. It felt
cool as she led him down the hall. Her gown billowed
out behind her, brushing against Bobby's ankles. Her
perfume made him dizzy. She paused in the dimly-lit
bedroom and turned down the coverlet, then she knelt
before her astonished nephew and gently tugged his
panties down his legs. His cock throbbed and quivered
with excitement as Pamela kissed the head delicately,
then slowly eased his member into her warm mouth, all
the time looking up into his eyes. She felt like a
miracle. She felt like a dream. She moved her mouth in
mysterious ways, making chills run up and down the
boy's back and turning his knees to water. He fought to
hold his arousal in check and his aunt sweetly, gently,
lovingly sucked his cock. Just where he began to doubt
whether he could take any more she pulled slowly back.
A long string of saliva held the connection between
them, then sagged and broke. She held up her hand. He
took it, and helped her to her feet.
With the grace of a dancer, Pamela shrugged the
wrap from her shoulders. It made a soft, pink cloud
around her feet. She came into Bobby's arms, fitting
like a key in a lock. He smelled her clean, rich hair.
She raised her head slowly and kissed him with
exquisite thoroughness, exploring his mouth deeply with
her probing, agile tongue. Bobby's hands drifted down
over her silky back and came to rest cupping her ripe,
swelling buttocks. She squirmed against his hands, and
one index finger slipped into the warm divide. He could
feel the hard points of her nipples in the center of
the pillowy masses that pressed against his upper
belly.
After what seemed an eternity, Pamela broke away.
"Get in, Bobby." she urged, gesturing at the bed. Not
trusting his voice, the boy slid between the sheets and
wriggled over so there was room for her. She slipped
under the covers beside him, reached up, and turned off
the light. Bobby was lost in a soft, perfumed blackness
as his aunt wound herself against him, feeling like she
had no bones. She kissed him again, and this time Bobby
responded more. She sucked his tongue into her mouth
and jerked back and forth as if it was a little cock.
Then she stopped. He could feel her hand on his hip,
and her breath on his face. The tension built.
"Bobby," she said. Her voice was almost a whisper,
but it seemed loud in the dark, silent room.
"Yes, ma'am." The ma'am just slipped out. He
thought it probably was the wrong thing to say, but
couldn't take it back.
"I want you to make love to me. I want to lie
under you and feel your power and your strength. I want
to feel your hard shaft deep in my most private place,
and I want to feel your essence squirting in my guts. I
want you, Bobby. Do you want me?"
"Oh, yes, Aunt Pamela. More than anything."
"Then take me, Bobby." She rolled onto her back,
dragging her nephew's body partially over her. Bobby
struggled to his hands and knees as he positioned
himself over his aunt's body. He could feel her heat on
his chest and stomach. She spread her legs so he could
fit himself between. He bent to kiss her -- the first
time he had been bold enough to initiate a kiss --
found his dick with his hand, and felt for Pamela's
pussy. It was warm, it was wet, but he didn't seem able
to find the opening. Before he became embarrassed,
Pamela brushed away his hand, and took his dick between
her thumb and middle finger. "Let me do it, Bobby." she
murmured. He felt a damp clinging hollowness, pressed
forward, and was home, buried deep inside his aunt's
warm, soft, slippery pussy. With a guttural cry, Pamela
wrapped her legs around the boy, digging her heels into
his upper buttocks. Bobby started to pump in and out.
Too fast. Well, that's to be expected. Just a few
instructions now. The fine points can wait 'til later.
"Slow down, Bobby," his aunt admonished him. "Make it
last, baby."
Bobby controlled himself.
"Don't just move in and out. Grind your pelvis
against me. That stimulates my clitoris."
The boy got the idea, but overdid it.
"Not so hard, baby. Be firm, be sure, but be
disciplined."
The thrusts moderated. That's better. She ran her
hand over her nephew's slim, athletic hips. He's
getting it. What a body. And he'll fuck me as long as I
want, and come when I say so. I'll just let him do all
the work for a while. Gradually, Pamela reduced the
thrusts of her hips until she lay still underneath his
rhythmic thrusts. She trailed her hand up the boy's
side and explored his sweaty armpit, feeling the taut
cords of muscle and tendon. She let the climax build
without any effort, taking it from him, but not working
for it herself. She groaned as he pushed her on over.
Bobby slowed not at all, and Pamela let herself
experience a string of small aftershocks, then banked
the fires.
Bobby was covered with a thin sheen of
perspiration. His breathing was deep and fast, but
regular. He had his cock under control: he could feel
the desire for release, but it was steady, and he held
it in check. The way his aunt has moaned when she'd
come had almost thrown him over the edge himself, but
he'd bit his lip and managed. He tasted a little salty
blood. He felt his aunt's hands on his chest. They
found a nipple, and tweaked it, digging in with
fingernails. Her nails moved on to his back, scratching
and biting. IT felt great to the boy, a fantastic
counterpoint to the clinging warmth of her pussy. He
could smell her now; the musky odor of Pamela's
dripping cunt wafted up from between their bodies. Her
breaths came faster again, and her hips began to pump.
She pulled down his head and mashed their mouths
together in a fierce kiss. The tigress was coming out.
"Ugh...ugh...ugh," she grunted, matching each thrust .
Pamela came again, groaning and sweating, and
scratching Bobby's back hard enough to draw blood.
Once more the older woman let herself sink back
under the machine-like pumping of her young nephew. She
wanted to feel him come now, really feel it, with no
filtering from her own needs. She lay quietly. "Bobby,"
she said softly. "I'm going to let you come soon. You
can come inside me. But wait just a minute. I'll do
something you'll like."
"Alright. God, you feel so good..."
"Are you ready?"
"I'm ready."
"Then fuck me, Bobby. Fuck my little pussy. Fuck
it just the way you want. Am I tight enough for you?
God, your prick feels big. It makes me so wet... C'mon,
fill me up with your hot come, baby. Ohh.."
Bobby didn't last long under his aunt's verbal
onslaught. She felt his cock twitch inside her. She
concentrated, and imagined that she could feel his
squirts against the walls of her womb. She felt a
change in the friction, then a coolness in the crack of
her ass as few droplets dripped down there. Suddenly
Pamela pushed her nephew to the side, rolling over so
Bobby lay on his back, with the older woman on top of
him. Pinning Bobby's hands over his head, Pamela worked
herself into a position straddling the boy's shoulders.
She shifted her grip to his head, and worked her
dripping pussy over his mouth. He tried to go for the
clit, but she held him steady as she cocked her hips so
his tongue was licking the mouth of her channel.
Bobby heard his aunt grunt as if she were on the
toilet, and he felt her muscles tense. The entrance to
her womb wrenched once, twice, and then ejected a
thick, slimy plug of semen into his mouth. The boy
gagged and tried to twist his head, but the hands on
his temples held him firmly in place. He submitted
reluctantly, swallowing his own come. He didn't know
why it was disgusting, but there it was.
Smiling in her triumph, Pamela rolled off her
nephew, curled up beside him, and explored his mouth
with her tongue. He might not like his own come, but I
sure do, she thought. They lay in silence for a few
minutes. Bobby's breathing grew slower and slower, and
she was afraid he might be falling asleep. "Time for
you to go to bed, Bobby," she prompted.
"Aw, Aunt Pamela," he whined, "Can't I stay?"
She at up, grabbed him by the ear, pulled him to
his knees, and rolled him onto the floor. "You
impertinent..." she howled, at a loss for words in her
outrage. Bobby stared up in horror, his mind reeling.
She sat on the side of the bed and put her foot on his
half-hard cock, leaning forward so she could put her
weight on him. "Have you forgotten everything I've
taught you? I thought I'd be nice to you, and this is
how you repay me!" She pulled her foot away and brought
her knees together. "Up here, Bobby," she said in a
tone that was suddenly resigned. Bobby scrambled to his
feet. "Over my knees. Buttocks in the air. Hands and
feet on the floor." His mind numb with shock, the boy
complied.
The spanking began immediately. Crack! "You will
address me respectfully., won't you?"
"Y..yes ma'am." Bobby's eyes felt watery. There
was a lump in his throat. He fought against the
feeling.
Crack! "You will not give me any back talk!"
"Yes'm" The first tear trickled from the corner of
his eye.
Crack! "You will do what I say, when I say it."
"Yes, Aunt Pamela." His voice cracked, and he
began to sob. He knew he'd screwed up. How could he
have ever thought that she'd want him as a lover? In a
flash of insight, he saw that it happened so easily
because that was what he'd wanted all along. To be her
strong man. Her partner in bed. An amorous equal.
Crack! "Why should I be nice to you, if this is
how you act?"
Bobby just bawled. The spanking didn't hurt that
much, but it just underscored his subservient position,
and made his misunderstanding seem even more silly.
Crack! "Maybe I should go back to the glove. Is
that what you want? Just the glove four times a day?"
It was an idle threat, but he didn't know it.
"No ma'am."
Crack! "How about the salt, then. Want some more
of the salt?"
"No ma'am."
Crack! "Maybe both together, then. The salt and
the glove. That's what you need, isn't it?"
"No ma'am."
Crack! "Then you better grovel, Bobby."
"Yes'm."
Crack! "Are you sorry?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am. I..I just got the wrong idea."
Crack! "Will it happen again?"
"No ma'am. Never."
Pamela stopped. "I'll give you one more chance,
Bobby, but if you fail again, I won't be as merciful."
"Thank you, Ma'am."
Pamela pushed her nephew onto the floor again. She
lay back and spread her legs. "Come show me how sorry
you are, Bobby," she ordered. The older woman smiled as
Bobby's tear-stained face appeared between her legs.
Still sniffling, he parted her outer lips with his
tongue and sought the little pebble beneath. Pamela
rejoiced in her victory. She'd found the secret:
Bobby's desperate longing for a relationship that could
never be. He'd never be able to resign himself to the
crumbs she'd let him have. Her orgasm washed over her.
Bobby looked up blankly. "Again," she commended,
pulling on his hair to emphasize the point.
* * *
The family were all at the breakfast table on a sunny
Saturday morning, when Ginny decided to try a little
experiment. A little too sweetly, she announced:
"Daddy, I don't feel like mowing the lawn today. I want
to go over to Marlene's this morning."
Ginny was ready for her father's reaction, and she
wasn't disappointed. Confusion, anger, and finally
resignation flitted across his face before he shrugged
and responded, "S...sure, honey -- I'll take care of
the lawn."
Ellen's jaw dropped, but she remained silent.
Ginny got up and sauntered out, trying to keep from
smiling.
* * *
After breakfast, Ginny went back to her room to get her
schoolbooks, and met her father as he came out of his
bedroom. She stood much closer than a daughter should
and said in a low voice: "Daddy, I want you to get off
work early today and pick me up when school lets out.
Make a reservation at one of those big motels over by
the Interstate." The girl started to turn away, but
changed her mind, saying, "Oh yeah, you can spend the
day trying to imagine what I'm gonna do to you."
Butch watched open-mouthed as his daughter
disappeared down the hall.
* * *
Ginny pushed her way into the motel room and paced back
and forth, exploring. She'd been nervous and bitchy in
the car on the way over. Butch had watched her skirt
rise well above her knees as she had wriggled around in
her seat, and he already had an erection. Ginny pawed
through the plastic bottles on the counter in the
bathroom. As Butch came around the corner to see what
she was doing, she turned suddenly towards him.
"In there!" she ordered, pointing back towards the
bedroom. Butch retreated as his daughter followed. "On
the floor!" Butch cowered at her feet. "Now get
undressed," the young girl sneered. Butch awkwardly
stripped as he twisted himself back and forth on the
carpet. When he was naked, Ginny sat on the bed and
took off one shoe.
Her mood shifted suddenly. "Like it down there,
Daddy?" she asked. in a playful, teasing voice. Butch
said nothing. Ginny pulled off her sock and rested her
bare foot on her father's chest. "My feet are all hot
and sweaty," she announced as she slid her toes up to
Butch's neck. She batted him gently on his cheek with
the ball of her foot, and finally rested her toes
against his lips. Butch needed no encouragement; this
was one of the scenes in the magazines that had excited
him the most. He eagerly licked between his daughter's
toes, lapped at the ball of her foot as she moved it
higher, and sucked on her toes, starting with the
smallest and finally tonguing her big toe as she flexed
it in his mouth. Ginny removed her other shoe and sock
and made her father give both feet equal treatment.
Tiring of the game, she stood up and straddled the
prostrate man. She picked up her skirt and swished it
form side to side, giving her father occasional
glimpses of her white panties. "Like what you see,
Daddy?" she teased. "Take a good look," she said as she
crouched down over him, rubbing her cotton-covered
crotch briefly against his face before standing up
again. Her spicy odor lingered in Butch's nostrils as
she moved down to his hips and swatted his stiff prick
back and forth with one foot. She squatted again and
thrust forward with her hips, pressing his cock against
his belly. She rode him a while, tilting her hips so
she could rub her clit with her father's dick. The
friction excited her, and her eyes sparkled as she
stared into Butch's face. "I could come this way,
Daddy," she cooed. "Would that turn you on? You could
watch my face." She rose and went to the bathroom,
returning almost immediately with a small bottle, which
she held between her teeth as she stripped off her
panties. The girl knelt down and poured some white
lotion on Butch's cock before kneeling astride his hips
and pressing her pussy against the base of his thick
penis. "Ooh, Daddy," she moaned, "Your big prick feels
so good against me." She squirmed her hips around
before settling down into a steady back-and-forth
rhythm, being careful to avoid the head. "Yeah, Daddy,
this is nice." She put both hands on her father's chest
for balance. "You're gonna make your little girl very
happy. You want that, don't you? You want Ginny to feel
good." Her hips moved faster. "Almost there, Daddy.
Just a little more. Oh, yes. That's it. Ooh!" A deep
red flush covered Ginny's face as she jerked against
the recumbent figure.
* * *
Bobby lifted his aunt's ankles onto his shoulders and
pinned her thighs against her chest, flattening her
breasts and making her feel deliciously captive. He
controlled his thrusts just as she'd taught him,
pushing himself deep inside her, but not hitting
bottom. She threw her hands over her head and he
grabbed her wrists and pressed them down into the
sheets. It was wonderful to submit in this way, yet be
in complete control. "Fuck me, Bobby," she moaned.
"Take me. Use me."
"Yes ma'am."
That wasn't right. She'd have to give him limited
permission to verbally get into character. That's OK.
There's plenty of time. Her stomach muscles spasmed as
she let herself be pushed over the top.
* * *
Butch lay naked on the bed in the motel and watched
Ginny pull the pom-poms out of her gym bag. The girl
had her hair in two braids that bounced about her
shoulders and wore a light sweater, a short white
skirt, white socks, and sneakers; she looked even
younger than her years.
"Let's play a game, Daddy," Ginny said in a light
tone of voice, but one that clearly wouldn't take 'no'
for an answer. "You'll be my father, and I'll be a
cheerleader. I've just gotten my new outfit, and I'm
showing it to you. We'll ignore the way you're
dressed."
"Whatever you say, honey," Butch responded,
curious about what she had planned for him.
Ginny posed with her pom-poms on her hips and a
little-girl-saucy expression on her face. "Don't I look
nice, Daddy?" she said, coquettishly.
"Very nice, sweetheart." Butch's cock began to
twitch in anticipation.
"Watch this." Ginny kicked one leg up above her
head.
Butch made appreciative noises.
"Can you see my panties when I do that?" Ginny
kicked again.
"Just a flash of them."
"How about when I do this?" The teenager spun
around quickly.
"Yes. That makes your skirt fly up."
"That means all the boys will see my panties,"
Ginny said with a pout. She dropped her pom-poms.
pulled the front of her skirt above her waist. and
looked down at her crotch with an expression of mock
confusion.
"Just a glimpse, and they're nice panties."
Still holding the skirt up, Ginny walked around
the bed until she stood near her father's head. "You
think they're nice enough?"
Butch rolled on his side so he could inspect the
high white spandex underwear that Ginny had borrowed
from one of her cheer leading friends. The shiny
material clung tightly to the young girl's pubic mound,
its smooth surface ruffled slightly by the hair
beneath. "They're very nice, sweetheart."
"Are they clean?" Ginny trilled girlishly. "I'd
hate for the boys to see me in dirty panties."
"They look clean to me."
"Smell them, Daddy. Smell my panties and make
sure."
Butch pulled himself closer and rested his nose
against the slick white cloth. inhaling the delicate
perfume of his daughter's pussy. "You smell fine."
Ginny stepped onto the bed with one knee, rolling
her father onto his back and planting her crotch
squarely on his face. "How about under there, Daddy,"
she said in a high teasing voice. "Are they clean under
there, too?"
Butch's reply was muffled. He began to lick at his
daughter's sweet lips.
"Oh, Daddy. Your tongue feels so good! You're so
nice to your little girl!" Ginny rode her father's face
for a minute or two, then pulled away. "Can I take
these off, Daddy? You're so sweet when you kiss me
there. I want you to kiss my thing without the panties
in the way." The girl stripped off her underwear and
knelt above her father. "Let me see your tongue, Daddy.
Stick it out for me. Such a nice tongue you have." She
moved down onto him "That's right, Daddy. Put you
tongue up my little tunnel. Twist it around real good."
She shifted her hips. "Now lick my little button. Your
tongue is so soft, Daddy. Lick your little girl. Oh,
don't stop. You're gonna make me go all squishy inside,
Daddy." Ginny came with a set of high squeals.
After a minute, she rolled off her father, and
gathered up her pom-poms. "Stand up, Daddy," she
giggled.
Butch stood beside the bed, and Ginny ran the pom-
poms over his chest and stomach, as he towered over
her. She ran the paper between his legs and up into his
crotch, then pretended to notice his huge erection. "Oh
Daddy," she whined. "What a big stiff thing you have.
It's so gross!" Ginny swatted Butch's cock with one of
the pom-poms. "It's so icky. Make it go down." She
batted it back and forth. The rough paper hurt a
little, but the friction and his daughter's mock
disgust turned Butch on. "What a big, dirty thing, you
have, Daddy!" The blows came faster and faster. "I'm
gonna slap your big red thing until it gets little!"
Butch felt a warmth in his loins. "Down, you big snake.
Oh, yuck. What's all this white stuff? Oh, Daddy,
you're just disgusting!" The pom-poms grew somewhat
limp as Butch wet them with his discharge.
* * *
The Saturday afternoon sunlight streamed in through
Pamela's bedroom window, revealing every line, pore and
detail in the bodies entwined on the bed. Bobby,
labored over his aunt, pumping in and out with
mechanical efficiency as she changed her pose, lifting
first one leg, then the other, now hooking both ankles
behind the boy's knees and thrusting her pelvis up
high, now running one foot up his thigh and pressing
her heel against his asshole, now stroking his cheek
with a tender hand, now scratching his back, now
grabbing a handful of hair and pulling his face
fiercely against hers, now letting her hands fall
limply above her head and luxuriating in the rhythmic
energy of the boy's thrusts. They'd been fucking for
more than an hour. Bobby was drenched in sweat.
Droplets dripped from his chin and nose; sometimes
Pamela would try to catch one in her mouth. Gracefully
as dancers -- but with the woman leading -- they rolled
onto their sides. Bobby's hand trailed down his aunt's
back, cupped one of her buttocks, and probed between
her cheeks. She nodded soundlessly, and he sank his
middle finger into her tightly-puckered ring. She lay
passively, feeling his thrusts at both portals. After a
long time, she rolled him onto his back, wrapped her
fingers around his wrists, pinned his hands over his
head, and rode him to her fourth orgasm of the
afternoon. Bobby didn't get to come; he had at least
another hour of work to do.