Dirty Boy – 3 by Geronimo Appleby

Even as the panic fluttered in the pit of my stomach, I could still appreciate my aunt’s body as she said, “Shit, is that the bloody time? Give me a minute, Mikey. I’ll go down and say hello. You bugger off back to your room. I’ll tell your mum you’re in the loo.”

Aunt Janet went to the door and grabbed her dressing gown from its hook. I had a wonderful view of her bottom as she hip-swayed away, my dick readying up for another go.

“And try to behave normally, Mikey,” Aunt Janet said. She slipped the gown over her shoulders and tightened the belt. “We’ll talk later.” My aunt paused at the door and looked at me with intense seriousness before finishing with, “Did you hear what I said?”

I gulped and nodded. “Yes. I heard you. I … I understand. Bedroom. I’m in the toilet. Behave normally.”

“I bloody hope you do understand,” Aunt Janet said with a brisk nod.

Then she left me in the ruin of her bed while my brain, with the frenzy of a five-year old’s birthday party, worked through all that had happened.

***

We got away with it. Which was predictable, really. My mother would have come home from work without any clue something momentous had just occurred in her house. Why should she suspect a thing? Why would even cross her mind that her sister and son had become lovers? How was she to know we’d rolled around Aunt Janet’s bed in incestuous joy? Okay, I was awkward at first. When I went downstairs and saw them together, my aunt and my mother chattering away, Janet at the table with a cup of tea in front of her while my mother unpacked a small bag of groceries, I felt sure my mother would read it all in my face. I was certain some sixth sense would kick in and she’d somehow just know.

But she didn’t. My mum threw me a quick hello and then kept talking to her sister. Bright and breezy. The normality of it oddly surreal to me.

A day passed. Then another. By the third day my aunt and I were getting brave and reckless.

My aunt would do things to tease me. Little tricks like moving past me in the kitchen but squeezing in close. She would press her rump up against me, even grinding her backside over my seemingly permanent erection. I had no control over my cock. My penis, in its perpetual state of high arousal, leaked slippery gloop into my underwear, a phenomenon which also caused splotches of damp to appear on my jeans. She would also make quick and very frustrating excursions into the bathroom when I was in there. My aunt would kiss me and crank my dick for a minute or so; then leave me standing with the pressure building up in my balls. The result of all this was that as soon as we were alone together I would launch myself at my aunt. We’d rut, just fuck hard and fast while grappling and gasping and groaning. Sometimes I dumped all I had into my aunt’s body, cum bathing her insides as I grunted at the sweet release and she sobbed at me to give her my everything. Other times she would wank me off over her breasts, the cum erupting over her wonderful tits, concentration etched onto her face. I pumped jism over her stomach, over her buttocks, and over myself. It was wild and exciting, the taboo of it only enhancing my desire for my mother’s sister.

The only rule, by tacit agreement and never really discussed, was that we wouldn’t do anything while my mother was in the house. Common sense, really. Given the consequences if we were caught.

But, a week after the affair began, even that little caveat got set aside and we were fucking upstairs while my mother was down in the kitchen.

The thrill of it intoxicated me. It was as addictive as it was stupid. It’s toe-curling to think back at the wild chances we took. But, as we continued to get away with it, we both became more and more blasé to the outcome if we were discovered together.

We were asking, if not begging, for trouble.

***

One occasion saw my aunt inclined at the waist, angling her pelvis so her rump was thrust back at me while she offered it from behind. The way she held herself braced against the door with both hands meant she could really tease me with her shape. I thought she made a glorious sight with her dress around her waist, front buttons undone so I could lean in low and take hold of her big boobs dangling under her brisket, her tits cantilevered over her bra. I looked down at the feminine outline of Aunt Janet’s waist and hips, stifled groan when I saw the oyster of her vulva nestled in the concavity at the top of her thighs, pubic hair matted and scraggly with the need that had siped from her body.

I gasped with the sheer delight of seeing her that way. I knew I was going to feel her sex all hot and wet as I sank into her molten embrace, my cock slipping in in one easy glide.

We were in her bedroom, both in a state of dishabille while we took our chance at a quick, frantic fuck. Aunt Janet had both hands up against the door while I stood behind her, my jeans at my shins, my hands on her buttocks so I could splay the cheeks wide and get a good long look at the scarlet gape of her cunt.

“Come on, dirty-boy,” my Aunt Janet moaned. She swayed her hips side-to-side and grinned back at me over one shoulder. “Fuck me. Make it rough as you like. You can do it inside me. I want to feel all your muck in my knickers for the rest of the evening.”

I couldn’t resist such a lewd invitation. The crude was she said it brought my hands from her bottom, fingers going to my cock so I could hold myself at her opening, the spare hand going to one of her breasts.

The pliant texture of tit-flesh and the velvety feel to her skin brought out the beat. I growled and fucked at my aunt, fingers kneading her boobs. I fondled and pinched the long, thick teats of Aunt Janet’s nipples, something she loved me to do. Then we were working at it together and our bodies slap-slap-slapped together in a robust thwacking of flesh upon flesh. We groaned and gasped, with Aunt Janet craning around, swivelling at the waist while reaching back to curl her fingers around my neck. She pulled me in close, the position awkward while we kissed in a slobbering, slurping swirl of tongues. We were both mad with need and arousal, desperate to scratch the interminable itch.

I was inside my aunt, up to the hilt, an arm around her middle while I kept my cock in deep and thrust in an attempt to go even deeper. She mumbled and moaned and sobbed out she loved what I did to her, adored how it felt to take me into her body.

“I can’t leave you alone,” my Aunt Janet informed me.

She had just gasped it out when the knock at the door shocked me like someone had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water over us both.

“Oh, fuck,” my aunt croaked when my mother called out her name.

The knock came again, three quick yet insistent taps at the door.

“Janet, are you in there? Have you seen Michael?”

“Not for a while,” Janet called back.

She sounded so normal. Not like a woman disturbed in the incestuous act of taking her nephew’s bare cock into her body. And I was still up to my nuts inside my aunt, too stunned to do anything more than gape in horror at the door. My mother was only inches away. All she had to do was push down on the handle and open the door.

We were caught. I was literally caught with my trousers down, my hard-on in my aunt’s body. There was no way to bluff a way out of the situation. What reasonable explanation could there be for me to be in my aunt’s bedroom? Janet with her boobs exposed, me with a red face and an erection glistening with gloop.

Then, in a move which appalled me but which I was powerless to prevent, my aunt shoved her hips and buttocks at me, effectively rejecting my cock. She let her dress fall to its natural length halfway down her thighs, scooping her breasts into her bra before she then opened the door.

I hid, caught in the gap between the door and the wall. Fear and panic rose and almost choked me. And I would have spluttered and coughed if I’d been breathing at the time. But I wasn’t taking in air at all. Shocked as I was in the abrupt change in circumstances, it was about all I could manage to stay on my feet, mind empty of everything except the numbing certainty my mother would walk in and see me there, jeans at my shins, cock slick with her sister’s desire.

“I haven’t seen him,” Aunt Janet lied, as smooth as a politician on polling day.

I heard my mother tut in annoyance. “I need him to move the bins,” she said. “They’re too heavy for me. Where the hell has he got to?”

Continuing with the cool, unperturbed way in which she spoke to my mother, Aunt Janet shrugged and threw out a casual, “Might be out chasing a girl. You know what they’re like at his age.”

“Mmm,” my mother returned, doubt in the sound. “I’ll clip his ear when I find him,” she added.

Aunt Janet chuckled. “He’ll turn up,” she said.

My aunt pushed the door closed and immediately put her hand over my mouth before I could gasp in relief.

“Shh,” she hissed, eyes open wide.

“We can’t,” I told her when, a minute later, she went down to suck at my cock. “What if–?”

But my aunt cut me short with a snort of derision, shutting off any further comments by pressing her boobs together with my dick sandwiched in-between.

Even though I felt vulnerable, exposed in a manner different to my bare backside bouncing up and down as I fucked into Janet, my aunt on the bed, the pair of us going at it in the good old missionary position, I still couldn’t leave her alone. That’s how mad as I was for my aunt’s body. Such was the lure of that pussy and her thick, dark pubic thatch, I still had to shag her. It didn’t matter that my mother had all but found us mid-stroke. And there was a very real chance my mum might come knocking again, but that didn’t stop me from fucking Aunt Janet and letting my cum flood into her body.

***

I woke up from a dream. Nothing rude. Just a dream. I had been so thoroughly milked of semen over the past couple of weeks that my nocturnal imaginings were as far removed from the erotic as they could be. Sex with Aunt Janet meant I slept soundly for a full eight hours and longer, which meant I was a bit woolly in the head when I woke up in the middle of the night.

A shadow, darker than the night time around it, flickered on the edge of my peripheral vision. At the same time I noticed the movement, I heard a whisper of what sounded like clothing being removed as a figure approached my bed.

The shape paused, standing right at the side of my bed, almost invisible while I strained to see.

Groggy as I was, I couldn’t make sense of what was going on. “What is it?” I asked.

“Shh,” came hissing at me out of the dark. Then my bed dipped and I was forced to shunt to one side.

“Aunt Janet,” I moaned when she grabbed hold of my dick.

She shushed me again, jacking my length while shutting me up with a kiss.

Any resistance evaporated during that kiss. It was an insane risk. It was the middle of the night, God knew what time and darker than dark. We couldn’t afford to make any noise. The slightest sound – a groan, the creak of bedsprings, anything – could mean we’d be caught. But, as usual, when the lust boiled inside me I was mindless to the chances of being discovered.

My aunt went down and sucked my cock. She moaned and gasped around the mouthful, her movements telling me she was working her fingers between her legs, teasing her clit and fingering inside.

A couple of minutes of that and I was desperate to fuck her. I told her so, mumbled it out so she came up, kissed me, and then moved to climb onto my cock.

The bed dipped and heaved as we fucked. I heard her snorts and murmurs of pleasure while her sex squelched over my length. My hands were full of her body, kneading and mauling, palms gliding over her skin until she rolled off me and hauled me on top.

We made slow, gentle love that way. Guided by her tempo, I went up onto straight arms and listened to her sighing and moaning, taking my cue from the way she moved beneath me and the noises she made.

After that, as tender emotions and love for my aunt ballooned inside me, she went onto her hands and knees, the position apparent when I felt for her body in the dark.

I pumped cum inside my aunt after fucking her from behind. I grunted and would have bellowed in delight had I not remembered in time just where we were and who else was in the house. Somehow, by some miracle of self-control and will-power, I kept the sounds within. Instead, I thrust into my aunt as deep as I could go, fingers digging into her hips while the hot stuff gushed and the joy overwhelmed me.

As soon a she’d taken my seed, my aunt got out of bed, leaned in to kiss me, mumbled my name, and then picked up whatever clothing she had let drop to the floor.

Her shape moved to the door. She opened it and, after a pause, stepped out into the hallway.

The metallic click told me she’d gone and the relief flooded through me that we’d gotten away with it again.

***

I got up late the following morning. My mother had gone to work by the time I surfaced, but Aunt Janet was still in the kitchen.

My aunt grinned when she saw me. She got up from the table and moved in to kiss my mouth “Good morning,” she said.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” I told her, turning away so her lips touched my cheek.

“You should go and do it,” Janet replied. “I’m in the mood, Mikey.”

I laughed and shook my head in wry amusement. “You’re always in the mood, Aunt Janet.”

“Ha, says you,” Janet retorted. “You never turn me down, sweetheart.”

“I don’t believe you came to my room last night,” I said.

I felt the first tremor of doubt when I saw Janet’s face. My mind jumped back to what I realised was a discordant note in the symphony of the night before. In my mind’s-eye I saw the shadow leaning over me, her lips against mine before she muttered my name.

The words which came out of my aunt made me blink, confused.

Aunt Janet shook her head, frowning. She said, “What? Last night? Your room?”

I gulped, an indefinable emotion lurching way down deep in the pit of my stomach.

“Yes, you came to my room. We … We did it.” I gasped.

Her wide eyes and gaping O for a mouth told me my aunt wasn’t joking with me.

“I didn’t come to your room last night, Mikey. What the hell do you mean?”

And there could only be one explanation. If it wasn’t my aunt who’d sucked and ridden my cock and fucked back onto me while on her hands and knees…?

“She called me Michael not Mikey,” I whispered.