Sexy Miranda Comes to Stay, Actress aunt becomes Mark’s head sex coach, The home of Brent and Cynthia Anthony was lit top to bottom, their son Mark switching on every light to welcome his aunt being brought from the airport by his parents.
It was the first time in twelve years Miranda Tosland, a TV actress based in London, had returned to home to Auckland.
The car lights flashed and Mark, standing on the front veranda, gave a shy wave.
“Try to inject some life into your nephew, Manda,” Cynthia said, falling into using the nickname she’d given her much younger sister when she was twelve and Miranda two – that was thirty years ago. “Mark’s hesitant and extremely shy of women.”
“Pussy shy?”
“Just generally shy,” coughed Cynthia to hide her mirth from her straight-laced lawyer husband who would be cringing enough after hearing Miranda’s immodest query.
Miranda jumped from the 4WD wagon and kissed the startled Mark on the mouth, not holding anything back. She’d hugged him, burbling, while his arms continued to hang uselessly at his sides, missing any chance of feeling over the body of his curvaceous aunt.
“Say something Mark,” she commanded.
“Welcome home, Aunt Miranda.”
“I’m Manda to you from now on – I’m only ten years older than you.”
“Twelve,” corrected the second-year law student.
“Mark Anthony – you have a lot to learn about women,” she said, not liking being caught out lying about her age. She took his arm. “Come, show me to my room; is it next to yours?
“Yes but the shared en-suite is between our rooms.”
“Oh good, I’ll be able to sneak in and watch you shaving you penis.”
“Aunt Miranda…”
“That was a joke, Mark. Let’s loosen up a bit, huh?
A fellow student of Mark’s, also twenty and doing law, arrived for late supper to meet the guest. Mark was helping his father shift the bed for Miranda because she wanted to sleep facing east ‘to improve her complexion’.
“Christ, she’s here for six weeks,” moaned his father, who almost never used profanity.
Mark figured house standards were already slipping as his mother had predicted they would.
Cynthia introduced her sister to Jasmine.
“Oh you gorgeous creature with a complexion, hair and body to die for,” trilled Aunt Miranda, capturing Jasmine’s allegiance in a flash. “Are you sleeping with my nephew yet?”
Jasmine hurried Aunt Miranda into the dining room thereby denying Cynthia the chance to learn whether or not – well, were they doing it?
“The truth is Miss Tosland…”
“Oh please – call me Miranda.”
“The truth is Miranda, he really only wants to use it to pee.”
“Does he go down on you?”
“Miranda!”
“Well, does he?”
The truth was, said Jasmine, the family cat could do a better job.
“Jasmine!”
They giggled. Miranda promised she’d try to encourage Mark to loosen up a bit and would coach him about techniques.
“Live or theoretical coaching?
“What would you recommend Jasmine?”
“There’s no question – it would have to be hands on. Mrs Anthony whispered to me the other day that the only things about sex on which you’re not an authority haven’t been invented yet.”
“My sister always has over-sold me.”
—
Mark was showering next morning when he heard Miranda ask could she join him. His mind went blank and his mouth said, “Um.”
She joined him.
“You haven’t any clothes on,” he charged.
She asked who he knew who wore clothes in the shower.
“No-one.”
“You’re well hung?”
“Oh God, Manda.”
She asked could she touch it. He yelled “No!” but she went ahead and grabbed it and soon had it growing in her hand.
“Do you like my boobs?”
“Yes,” he said, face beetroot red, eyes closed tightly.
“Suck them, see how soft they are.”
Mark’s voice went up an octave and he said he was leaving.
“Attempt to move from here and I’ll whack you, Mark. The girls at university think you must be gay, leaving poor Jasmine untouched.”
“She told you that?”
“Well, not quite but I could see it in her eyes. University people who are having it off left, right and centre can be so cruel. Now that we have managed to get you stiff, may I suck it?”
“Oh God. I suppose if I say no you’ll whack me?”
“Yes, I’m almost lethal with a head butt to the jaw.”
“But it’s incest. According to the law…”
“Don’t you ever quote law to a woman when you are in the middle of sex with her Mark.”
“I cannot believe this; as they say in theatre, this is my worst nightmare.”
“I don’t wish to take you by force, Mark. Are you offering your dick to me?”
“Oh, this is one of the worst moments of my life. Yes, suck it but go easy with your teeth. I’ve heard that some women when they suck have the idea that it’s done like paring cheese.”
Shamed and feeling he was a loser in not repelling his stroppy aunt, Mark leaned against the shower wall. Gradually a feeling of serenity, warmth and absolute nerve-tingling bliss came up – from his toes it seemed – enveloping him like a fog until she brought him into a mighty ejaculation.
“God, that’s far better than when I do it,” he groaned unthinkingly.
“I daresay it is.” Miranda said, sounding very British and slightly peeved as if her administration had been under-appreciated until she sped into her finale.
Mark opened his eyes to see her standing, grinning at him; his cum was dripping off her tits. She wouldn’t dare…
“Lick me clean, Mark.”
He fled.
—
Mark hid in his room until his mother called for the fourth time, “Breakfast Mark” with a rising edge to his voice. He walked shame-faced into the dining room thinking his mother would be looking at him, her eyes a mixture of sympathy and hurt; Miranda would be gloating and his father looking angry ready to kick his son in the butt. But amazingly the three of them were in animated conversations and barely acknowledged his arrival.
Mark ate silently wondering why he’d been pushed to the side in the jet stream of the rush of his contemporaries to leap into adulthood – emotionally strong and accelerating their sexual experiences and ability of dealing with the opposite sex. He felt extremely sorry for Jasmine joining him in the wayside, being soft and endearing but missing out on high sexual gratification each week, or perhaps daily. Hourly? Not Jasmine, not hourly.
He realized he was achieving erection and looked accusingly at Miranda, but she was in deep conversation with his father. Then he was aware of very light stroking of a foot in his crotch. Asking his mother what they would be having for dinner he reached down with both hands and jerked the foot. Miranda shrieked and grabbed the table to regain her balance, sending her coffee flying.
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