บท 2974: OUR SECRET SIN
The sudden opening of my bedroom door woke me up that Monday morning. As my eyes tried to adjust to the light of day, I could see a thin, blonde woman stomping angrily towards my bed. Fear welled within my heart as I sat up.
"Out of bed, boy!" Aunt Naomi snarled at me. "You know the drill!"
I quickly jumped out of the bed and stood beside it. I put my hands on the mattress and spread my feet shoulder-width apart, as if I was preparing to be arrested. I looked over at Aunt Naomi, who had a leather belt in her hand.
"Let's get this over with," she said.
Standing behind me, she quickly yanked down my pajama pants and underwear. She then reached around and grabbed my limp penis and gave it several squeezes. I clenched my eyes shut and tried to think of the usual: roadkill, a clogged toilet, and being stuck in traffic - anything to keep from getting morning wood.
Aunt Naomi's cold hands made keeping soft somewhat easier. After a few minutes she let go of my manhood and backed away. She then did a thorough inspection of my pajamas, my bed sheets, and my bedroom.
"Very good," she said. "I guess you won't be needing punishment today. Get dressed."
After she left the room and closed the door, I heaved a relieved sigh and collapsed forward onto the bed. Fear was replaced by shame and a certain confusion. These morning checks were getting a bit ridiculous.
Ever since I was 10, I had lived with my Aunt Naomi. She was my mother's sister, and after I had lost both my parents to a car accident, she had taken me into her home. Unfortunately, she was my only living relative, and super conservative.
Living with her meant going to a Christian school on a scholarship, going to church several times a week, and having my internet and television usage scrutinized. I wasn't even allowed to wear casual clothes; Aunt Naomi always insisted on me wearing long pants and plain shirts. While other kids had fun going to pool parties and other unsupervised hangouts in the summer, I was only allowed to go to Bible Camp.
I had lots of friends at my Christian school, but I never invited them over for fear of Aunt Naomi's strictness alienating them from me. The only time I was allowed without question to hang out with my peers was when the church youth group had supervised functions. Still, whenever I came home from a picnic or some other youth group function, my aunt would criticize the parents involved for petty things like letting their daughters wear casual clothes, or playing Christian rock music.
I would have hated Aunt Naomi more, but she'd had it rough. Growing up, my grandparents had raised her as strictly as she had raised me. Also, she spent most of her days taking care of her elderly husband Randolph, who was 30 years her senior and bedridden. The folks at the church were very supportive, and a lot of them came over to help cook, clean, and watch him whenever we could not. It was one of the reasons that Aunt Naomi did not allow me to bring any friends over to the house.
For the most part, I had learned to live with this rigid lifestyle. Aunt Naomi and I co-existed pretty well, as long as I followed the rules in her house. However, things between us had changed.
Last month, after I had turned 18, I had awoken with serious case of morning wood. Aunt Naomi had walked into my room unannounced and noticed it, so she instantly thought that I had been choking the chicken. She went hysterical, subjecting me to several lashes with her favorite leather belt, and then several hours of prayer. Since that day, not only was I banned from unsupervised television time, but she performed daily checks to make sure that I wasn't masturbating. Aside from a few wet dreams, I had been in the clear.
After showering and getting dressed for school, I went downstairs and fixed myself a bowl of cereal. I went outside to find Mr. Larson, one of Aunt Naomi's friends from church, waiting for me. I could have easily walked to school or even taken the bus, but Aunt Naomi didn't trust me not to skip school.
I didn't care, though. I was simply waiting until I turned 21 so that I could start getting money from the trust fund that my parents had set up for me. I was going to get a place of my own, get a girlfriend, and find a nice job.
When I returned home that afternoon, my heart dropped as I saw an ambulance in the driveway. Mr. Larson pulled up along the street and we quickly hopped out of the car. We went inside to see Aunt Naomi escorting two paramedics through the house as they moved a stretcher. There was a large black body bag on top of the stretcher. We didn't need three guesses to find out who was in the bag.
"I'm sorry that you had to see this," Aunt Naomi said stoically. "Your Uncle Randolph has gone to meet Jesus."
"I'm so sorry," I said, awkwardly walking to her and giving her a hug.
She gave me a small pat on the back and muttered thanks. In all my years, I found that hugging Aunt Naomi had all the sentimentality of hugging a streetlight. Mr. Larson went over and gave her a hug, and then clasped her hands as he offered his prayers and sympathies.
The next few days were tumultuous for us. The ladies at church had set up a meal train, bringing us casseroles, pastas, and desserts. The pastor came to pray with the both of us and to discuss the funeral arrangements. A funeral director helped oversee the cremation and planning of the funeral. Through it all, Aunt Naomi was like a rock.
Unfortunately, the death of her husband wasn't enough to distract Aunt Naomi from our morning routine. Every morning, she'd be there to ensure that I was softer than a teddy bear. I guess she didn't have anything better to do after all.
That Saturday, I awoke with a chill. I looked out of my window to see my neighborhood blanketed with snow. I jumped out of bed and dressed for the outdoors. Aunt Naomi was surely going to have me get up and shovel the driveway and sidewalk, so it made sense to try and beat her to the punch. In less than an hour, I cleared the snow and salted the driveway and walkways.
I reentered the house, ready for a nice hot breakfast, but, first, I'd treat myself to a hot shower. I quickly went up to my bedroom and denuded, and then went into the bathroom. After turning on the water, I entered the shower after I felt the water was hot enough. The soothing heat was doing wonders for my achy joints and muscles. It was really hard to find the motivation to leave the hot shower.
Suddenly, the shower curtain was noisily pushed open, causing me to jump and drop my bar of soap. Aunt Naomi was standing outside of the shower, clad in a pink robe. She had a furious look in her eyes and the leather belt in her hand.
"What are you doing in here?!" Aunt Naomi barked.
"Taking a shower!" I cried, trying to shield my nakedness.
"You don't get up this early EVER!"
"I just got finished shoveling the driveway, so I wanted to get a shower afterwards! If you don't believe me, then look outside!"
"Don't you lie to me! You were in here pleasuring yourself!"
"No! I just told you..."
"LIES!" Aunt Naomi screeched. "All lies! Show me your loins!"
"What? No!" I turned off the water.
"Don't you defy me, boy!"
"I'm telling you the truth!"
That still wasn't enough for Aunt Naomi; she began pelting my wet skin with the belt. Any other day I would have curled up in a ball and tolerated it, but I was angry. I had just tried to do something nice for her, and she was rewarding my hard work with corporal punishment.
To her surprise, I intercepted her next blow and was able to wrest the belt from her grip. She instantly put her hands up to shield herself from the assured payback. I stood there, ready to smack her with the belt, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.
"Aunt Naomi," I started. "I'm tired of you treating me this way. From now on, you won't lay a hand on me ever again. If you don't like that, I'll gladly leave this place."
"What are you talking about, you stupid boy?" She spat. "You don't have anywhere else to go."
I stepped out of the shower and used a towel to cover myself. "I could camp out at the Salvation Army. I'd rather sleep with homeless people than live in this comfortable house with you!"
"You miserable ingrate! Your mother would weep if she could hear the way that you're talking to me! You think it's right to treat me this way?"
"What about the way you treat ME?!" I raged, with a tone that surprised the both of us. "I'm tired of being punished for the tiniest things. I may only be 18, but I know that people don't treat their nephews this way. I think you should treat me like a man; you certainly work me like one."
Aunt Naomi folded her arms across her chest and snorted. "A real man doesn't sneak around his aunt's house, pleasuring himself in the shower." Her eyes narrowed down to my crotch. "Ever since you turned 18 you've let that thing down there lead you astray!"
I sighed heavily and walked past her into my bedroom. I saw some fresh clothes folded upon my bed; Aunt Naomi must have come in to drop off some laundry. I tossed aside my towel and Aunt Naomi's belt and grabbed a pair of boxers.
"I want you dressed and downstairs in 5 minutes," she said to me. "We're going to spend all day in the Bible in order to cleanse your mind of this filth and disobedience."
"No," I said. "I'm going to get dressed, have some breakfast, and watch some television."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aunt Naomi getting ready to hit me. Instinctively, I caught her wrist and threw her onto the bed. In my fury, I thought it best to give her a taste of her own medicine. I flipped her over onto her belly, yanked up her robe and dress, and yanked down her underwear. While holding her down, I used her belt to deliver a series of hard smacks to her backside.
The pale skin on her bottom quickly turned dark pink. Aunt Naomi screamed and protested, trying her best to right herself, but I continued to pin her down. She flailed her arms and legs like a child throwing a tantrum, but I had resolved to spank her until she apologized.
Then, something strange happened. The screams and threats started to turn into yelps and moans. Aunt Naomi's limbs stopped thrashing, and she was now holding onto the bed for dear life. Intrigued, I kept spanking her, finding that these new sounds that she was making were better than an apology.
I decided to stop the whipping, looking down at my aunt and feeling a mixture of satisfaction and worry. She flipped herself onto her back. However, there were no tears in her eyes; her eyes were tightly shut, and her face looked so very tired and flushed. To my surprise, I noticed a pair of small protrusions in her shirt that I'd only seen on girls in my class when it got too cold. Her chest rose up and down as she tried to catch her breath.
My eyes went downwards even more and then widened when I noticed that I was face-to-face with Aunt Naomi's bare crotch. I'd only seen a vagina once, and it was in an anatomy book at the library, but the one in that book didn't have as much hair as the one I was staring at. A very curious smell was emanating from it, and I could see it moist with dew. I soon became aware that I was incredibly erect, and it felt really good. Another rash thought entered my head.
Wordlessly, I crawled up to my still-dazed aunt and parted her legs. I'd only heard about sex from my friends at school, but the primal urges within me assured that I could manage it well. I removed by boxers, ready to unleash weeks of suppressed erections upon my aunt.
I looked up at her face, expecting her to protest, but she just stared at me. Her face seemed to be curious as to what I would do but didn't plead for me to stop. I thrust myself into Aunt Naomi.
We both gasped at the moment of our union. I was surprised how good it felt to be inside of her. Why was she so wet? Were women supposed to feel so gooey inside. I began to rhythmically pump in and out of her vagina.
Aunt Naomi's face contorted as she stared me in the eyes. Her eyes then fluttered shut, and she tilted her head back and let out a sound that I'd never heard before. I liked that sound.
The room was silent, save for her mewling and my panting. I surrendered myself to my instincts, uncaring that I was sinning with my mother's sister. She was mine, my woman.
I grabbed the bottom of Aunt Naomi's shirt and yanked it upwards, baring her tiny breasts. Her nipples were stiff and bounced in time with our coitus. With a snarl, I dove forward and feasted on one of them. My aunt bellowed and clutched my head closer to her bosom. Her legs wrapped themselves around my waist as she urged me deeper into herself.
My mouth relinquished the nipple so that I could let out a pained moan. My penis was experiencing a new sort of pleasurable pain. It felt as though a geyser was building within my shaft. Before I realized what it was, an explosion went off within my loins. I blasted my man juice directly into Aunt Naomi.
We continued to lie on the bed, our genitals still in congress with each other. We huffed, trying desperately to recover from our exertions. At last, I was able to pull out of Aunt Naomi and roll over, lying next to her. I looked at my still-erect cock, dribbling with fluids, strangely proud and shocked at where it had been and what it had just done. Suddenly, Aunt Naomi sat up on the bed. She pulled down her shirt, grabbed her panties, and silently left my bedroom. I was alone in my room, feeling newly filthy after my shower.
After cleaning myself up, I got dressed and sat on the edge of my bed, still trying to process what had just happened. Thanks to a lifetime of living with a Bible-thumper, I knew exactly in the Bible where my recent sex was explicitly prohibited. I grabbed my Bible and turned to the Book of Leviticus. There it was, in the 18th chapter: You shall not uncover the nakedness of your mother's sister, for she is near of kin to your mother. Though, anyone without a Bible still knew it was wrong to bang your aunt.
At least it hadn't been rape. Thinking back, I never heard the words 'no' or 'stop'. Aunt Naomi had done nothing to fend me off.
Lastly, I finished inside of her. I tried to think if a 49-year-old woman could still get pregnant. I didn't want to raise any inbred monsters.
The rumbling in my stomach prompted me to head downstairs. I didn't see Aunt Naomi in the kitchen, so I fixed myself a plate of scrambled eggs. Part of me wanted to go look for her and try to talk about what happened, but I wouldn't even know where to start. I resigned myself to watching television and waiting for her to find me when she was ready. I tried not to think about the possibility of her throwing me out and having to be homeless during the winter.
It was about three hours before she walked into the den, wearing a robe and an unreadable expression. I quickly turned off the television and watched as she sat beside me on the couch. She folded her hands in her lap and began to speak.
"I've been in deep thought and prayer, and I realize that I owe you an apology."
I was in shock. I frantically tried to think of any past instances where Aunt Naomi had apologized for anything. I decided to keep my mouth shut and let her keep speaking.
"I feel that in my attempts to discourage your Onanism, I may have caused you to have repressed desires. As your legal guardian, I have tried my best to channel your...physical urges into more productive activities such as chores and prayer, but it doesn't seem to be working."
"So, what should I do?" I asked.
"I have decided to allow you to...self-gratify yourself in the privacy of your own bedroom. I only ask that you not bring any kind of pornography into my home while you address your carnal needs. Would you be fine with that?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good," she said in a clipped voice. "I'm glad that we got that sorted out. You may keep watching television."
With that, she rose from her seat and left the room. Still, it felt like there was still an elephant in the room; we hadn't discussed the fact that we had engaged in incestuous intercourse earlier that same day. On the other hand, it was nice having the rest of the day to myself without Aunt Naomi hassling me about being a slothful layabout. I could watch television, go into the fridge, and not get hassled about what I watch or eat. This was the freest that I had felt in the longest time.
By the time sunset rolled around, I was eating dinner by myself. I was still surprised that Aunt Naomi hadn't emerged from her bedroom to give me some kind of emergency sermon. I almost went to her room to do a wellness check, but I decided to give her some space. After dinner, I enjoyed a few more hours of television before I decided to call it a night. I went up to my bedroom, got into some warm pajamas and climbed underneath my heavy comforter.
I wasn't sure how long I had been in bed before I heard my door creak open. The dim light in the hallway showed a feminine shape standing in the portal of my room. I couldn't see a face, but I knew who it was.
The alarm clock on my nightstand showed that it was almost eleven o'clock at night. I was confused; earlier in the day, she had just given me consent to respect my privacy, so why would she be doing another softness check in the middle of the night? I decided to keep my eyes closed and feign sleep, hoping she would change her mind and leave. I heard her enter my room and shut the door behind her. A few seconds later, I felt the covers on my bed being lifted and someone entering the bed behind me.
My eyes were definitely open now. A myriad of thoughts rushed through my head, among them the urging to keep playing possum or talking to my unexpected new bed partner. Before I could arrive at a decision, I felt a pair of slender hands gently pulling down my pants. I was surprised at how she was able to get the waistline of my pajama bottoms below my buttocks. With one hand she caressed my backside and with another she grasped my penis.
There was no use faking sleep now; I rolled around to face the not-so-mystery woman, wrenching my privates from her grip. Once I was lying on my other side, she quickly pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me. I reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see Aunt Naomi sitting on top of me, completely naked. The sight of her nude body made me instantly erect.
There was no shame or surprise upon her face, only pure longing. Wordlessly, she reached down and began to stroke my shaft with her right hand, whilst fondling her meager breasts with her left. I moaned as my eyes rolled shut, biting my lip as her soft hand pleasured me. I opened my eyes and looked at her lap, watching with delight as she was grinding her hairy crotch against my dick. I stared at our genitals, silently begging her to let them be joined.
At last, she put me inside of her. My heart soared as I watched my dick disappear into that sea of dark blonde pubic hair. Gooey wetness enveloped my manhood and Aunt Naomi began to slowly move up and down upon me. I removed my shirt and tossed it to the floor. As soon as I turned my attentions back to Aunt Naomi, her hands made for my nipples and starting to gently pinch and tweak them.
I cried out with perverse joy, both delighted and embarrassed that I was liking being stimulated with my nipples. What the hell was wrong with me? Aunt Naomi seemed to enjoy it; a deranged smile erupted on her face as she rode me faster and continued to play with my chest.
Intent on gaining some control, I tried to remove her hands, but she fended me off with surprising strength. I surrendered myself to the thin blonde woman who was having her way with me. The air was filled with her shrill panting, my endless moans and groans, and the sound of flesh slapping against each other.Again, my dick was feeling those pangs that I had experienced earlier today. Something was building inside of it, but, try as I might to contain it, I spurted myself within the warm confines of Aunt Naomi's vagina. She stopped her gyrations and lifted her body so that my tired penis fell out of her. Seconds later, we both watched as copious amounts of off-white fluid coursed out of her, falling all over my loins. Without a word, she climbed off of me and exited the bedroom.
Once the door had closed behind her, I stared at it, somewhat hoping that she would come back. After about five minutes, I turned off my lamp and got back under the covers. The smell of sex still lingered in the air, and my dick was dribbling leftover semen onto my bed.
I kept replaying the moment over and over in my head, intent on doing so until I was able to fall asleep. Strangely enough, I was not disgusted that I'd had sex with my aunt twice in one day. Usually, having sex with a blood relative would be an abhorrent thought or action, but I was oddly at peace with it. Maybe it was because Aunt Naomi hadn't really treated me as a surrogate son, much less a nephew. Stranger still was that fact that she had initiated our second time...and liked it.
My alarm clock roused me out of my slumber, the red letters reading 7:30 AM. I extricated myself out of the warm bed, momentarily surprised that I was naked. I chuckled at my forgetfulness and headed to the shower. Relief and hot water washed over me, washing away the dried sweat and semen from my skin. I didn't spend too long inside; Aunt Naomi hated being late to Sunday church.
I emerged downstairs in my Sunday best, finding Aunt Naomi sitting on the couch, fully dressed and listening to hymns on the radio. She looked up at me with an unreadable expression, no different I suppose from how she usually regarded me. Not surprisingly, she was the first to break the awkward silence between us.
"There's no time for breakfast, so you'll just have to eat after we get to church," she said before rising from her seat.
"O-okay," I said.
Without another word, I followed her to the garage and we got into the minivan. Thankfully, it hadn't snowed any further, so there was no need for me to clear the driveway in order for us to leave home. Aunt Naomi turned up the heater once we were on the road.
Our Sunday drive was routine, with the two of us going to church while a home health nurse monitored Uncle Randolph. The trip was always silent, save for the Christian radio station playing, but, this time, it felt really awkward. I kept wanting to bring up the events from last night, but I wasn't sure what reaction I would get. Once we arrived at church, we departed to our respective bible study groups.
An hour later, we sat together for the regular service. Going to church was the only thing that seemed to give Aunt Naomi any real enjoyment. I didn't mind church in the slightest, but I felt that God was going to strike me down because of what had transpired last night.
When the service was over, we spent some time chatting with some of the other church attenders before we got back into the van and headed home. We usually didn't get much time to socialize, since Aunt Naomi had to rush home in order to relieve the nurse, but, now that Uncle Randolph had passed, she didn't have to worry about that. On the ride home, she was uncharacteristically chatty, telling me all of the hot gossip circulating among the church ladies. I said nothing, content to just stare outside of the window. I had to admit that I had enjoyed being at church without having to hurry home.
Once inside, I removed my coat and shoes, I headed towards the kitchen, eager to fix myself a can of Campbell's Chunky Soup in order to warm me up. While I was in the pantry, I felt a pair of familiar female hands caressing my back. I was frozen with shock as I heard my aunt purring behind me.
"So, did you pray for the Lord to forgive you of your sins?" she said in a husky voice.
"Yes," I breathed.
"Mmm, good. I know that God will forgive you for seducing your aunt and filling her with your dirty seed."
"Yes, Aunt Naomi."
Her hands slowly went down to my waist and then reached forward to undo my belt and pants. With a gentle tug, my pants fell to my knees. Aunt Naomi then relieved me of my boxers. I was half-erect before her hands even found my manhood. My ears burned as she started stroking me.
"Ah, yes. That didn't take too long. You sure are easily aroused. Before you get your lunch, we'll need to take care of this. I need to do everything in my power to make sure you don't fall prey to fornication. Go upstairs and get undressed."
"Yes, Aunt Naomi," I replied. The 7:30 AM alarm woke me on Sunday, February 16th. It was time to get ready for church. I hopped out of bed, already nude and ready for a shower. A few flakes of dried semen fell from my skin as I walked into the bathroom. How they got there was quite the story.
A few nights ago, it was Aunt Naomi's first Valentine's Day as a widow, so she proposed that I be her date. That meant a candlelit dinner with wine, cuddling on the couch to watch "Milo & Otis", and then up to my room for sex. And, no, you didn't misread that last part.
A few weeks ago, after her husband had passed away, Aunt Naomi and I started having sex. Before that, I saw her as an overly oppressive, Bible-toting disciplinarian that never allowed me to have any fun. Now, she had loosened up in more ways than one.
Her marriage to Uncle Randolph had begun when she was 28 and he was 58. They had almost reached 22 years of marriage before he had died. I had no idea how their sex life went before he became bedridden, but it was obvious that it had been a while since she'd gotten laid. I guess that fact had not been made clear until she came into my room Saturday night, removed both of our clothes, and took me again. As always, after we were done, she always went back to her room.
Once I had gotten dressed, I grabbed my bible and headed downstairs. My thin, blonde aunt was already in her Sunday best as she waited downstairs. She gave me a simple 'good morning' before we got into her van and headed for church.
As always, we never conversed on the way to church; it had been this way even before we started having sex. As the hymns came pouring out of the radio, I tried my best to get my mind to focus on holy things and not all of the sex I had engaged in last night with my dead mother's sister. Both of my parents had died eight years ago when I was 10, which is why I lived with Aunt Naomi.
It then occurred to me: what would my late mother think of our relationship? Before she had died, she had been more of a sympathetic and easygoing Christian. Aunt Naomi was the other kind, the kind of Christian that would criticize anyone who showed up to church in a T-shirt. After the first few trysts, I thought her guilty conscience would force her to stop, but she didn't seem bothered about being in bed with her nephew. I guess that I could have said something to stop our affair, but I couldn't dredge up any genuine desire to do so.
In fact, I felt a pang of longing as Aunt Naomi ventured off to her adult bible study class, while I headed for the high school bible study class. My heart -- and maybe my penis -- leapt with joy when I found her in the main sanctuary for the late-morning service. Her face, as always, was unreadable as I sat next to her in the pew.
After we sang hymns with the rest of the congregation, the church collected the offering and then the head pastor came up to deliver the sermon. It always amused me to see how anxious the crowd got when he ascended the pulpit. Personally, I had nothing against Pastor McAvoy, but it was sad to hear the audience fall over laughing whenever he made a C-grade joke.
At long last, we said our closing prayer and listened to the weekly announcements before we were dismissed. As we filed out of the auditorium and into the lobby, it seemed that a group of church ladies seemed to automatically materialize around Aunt Naomi. Even though it had been almost 4 weeks since Uncle Randolph had died, they were still very much concerned about her. Pastor McAvoy even came over to give his repeated offers for any assistance whatsoever. Aunt Naomi was in high spirits by the time we left church.
On the ride home, she was giddy as she told me that the head pastor had issued a standing invitation to his house for dinner. I said nothing as she drove through the wintry streets. About five minutes from our home, I had decided to break the one-sided silence.
"I think it would be nice to have dinner at Pastor John's sometime," I said.
"Yes," Aunt Naomi replied. "By the way, I don't know what you're wanting for dinner tonight. Did you have anything in mind?"
I gave my aunt a strange look; usually, she never asked me what I wanted to eat; she told me that I could always eat whatever she made, make something myself, or starve. I began to rack my brain for whatever I wanted to have for dinner. Even though it was February, it felt like Christmas had come early.
"How about chicken?" I suggested.
"Chicken sounds good," she replied as she pulled into the driveway and parked in the garage.
We got into the house and removed our coats. After adjusting the thermostat, Aunt Naomi looked inside of the fridge. A few minutes later she gave a deep sigh and slammed the fridge shut.
"What's wrong?" I said, worried that I had done something wrong.
"I forgot to defrost some meat for this week," she grumbled.
She trudged to the garage and then returned with arms full of frozen chicken thighs that had been stored in the chest freezer. She deposited the frozen meat into the sink and washed her hands. She still had a sour expression on her face.
"I hope you don't mind pizza tonight," she said.
"Not at all," I said.
"Good. I'll order some around in an hour. In the meantime, I'll MMPH..."
Unable to hold out any further, I grabbed Aunt Naomi and kissed her full on the mouth. She pulled away from me and delivered a slap to my face. Strangely enough, I found her reaction to be extremely arousing.
"Benjamin! What on Earth has gotten into you?!?" Aunt Naomi cried.
"I need you Aunt Naomi," I groaned as I started unbuckling my pants.
"You can't restrain yourself on today of all days? The Lord's Day?!?"
"'Restrain'? Where was your restraint when you came into my bedroom last night?!"
"Hush!" she hissed. "Do you want the neighbors to hear us?!"
Unashamedly, I yanked my pants down and bared my erect penis to her. Her eyes went huge as she let out a gasp. She quickly grabbed a dish towel and threw it at me. I was about to catch it, but it landed right on my member and draped itself like a strange tent. Aunt Naomi clasped a hand over her mouth and started to giggle.
"Oh, my goodness," she laughed. "You look so ridiculous!"
Embarrassment washed over me as I stood there with my pants around my ankles in the middle of my aunt's kitchen. She kept laughing, clutching her sides at the absurd sight that was me. I couldn't help but crack a smile at myself as well.
"Ugh, I guess I do look ridiculous," I admitted. "I'll go upstairs and take care of this problem myself."
"You do that," Aunt Naomi grinned. She snatched the towel away from my crotch and used it to give me a playful swat on my backside as I pulled up my pants and went to my room. I could still hear her giggling as I walked upstairs.
As I closed my bedroom door behind me, I tried to think about the last time I tried to masturbate and came up with nothing. Despite going to a Christian private school, I still heard the guys joke about "choking the chicken". How hard could it be (no pun intended)?
I took off my clothes and sat on the bed, unsure of what to do next. I really didn't have any material like a magazine or a video, thanks to Aunt Naomi's strict ban on pornography. The only naked women I'd ever seen apart from Aunt Naomi were in library books. I grabbed the bottle of lotion on my nightstand and tried to mentally craft a woman to masturbate to. My only thought was to use the faces of the girls from school and church and piece them with the few naked female bodies I had seen in my pitiful life.
Of course, the only woman I was able to vividly imagine was Aunt Naomi. I could just picture her slim body, that perky little backside of hers, and those small yet supple breasts of hers. When I started thinking about that large patch of golden-brown hair between her legs, I was rock hard again. I hastily put some lotion into my hand and grabbed my dick. The memories of our past liaisons played through my head easily.
My reverie was interrupted by the sound of an opening door. Aunt Naomi peeked her head inside and her jaw went slack. I stopped what I was doing and look at her with the utmost annoyance.
"Could you please knock before you come in?!" I yelled.
It was Aunt Naomi's turn to be upset. "Don't you raise your voice at me, Benjamin. This is my house. I merely came to see how you were doing."
"Fine," I said through gritted teeth. "I'll be done in about ten minutes."
"Ten minutes? I warn you, Benjamin, I'm not going to let you spend the rest of the day pleasuring yourself."
"I'm almost done."
"You're not using pornography, are you?"
"Aunt Naomi," I grumbled, trying hard to rein in my frustration. "I'm trying to finish as soon as possible. Please, wait downstairs."
Instead of closing the door, she came inside. I eyed her warily as she sat down beside me on the bed. Were we about to have one of our special nephew-aunt times?
"Would you like me to help you?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Understand that I...did this for your Uncle Randolph when he was having trouble."
"Okay."
She cautiously reached over and grasped my prick, which was still covered in lotion. She then began to slowly move her wrist up and down. Her frigid palm soon started to warm itself from the friction against my skin. I wasn't sure if Aunt Naomi was a pro at this but having her do it was immensely better than doing it myself. I could feel myself getting harder.
I was in heaven. I took a momentary glance at my aunt, finding her gazing intently at my penis. It seemed as though she was completely absorbed in her task. Just when I thought this couldn't get any better, she reached over with her other hand and started to massage my balls. My toes curled in rapturous delight.
For her sincere efforts, I rewarded her with three glorious spurts of cum that drenched her fist. I fell backwards, sprawling myself on the bed as I panted with weary satisfaction. Aunt Naomi bent down to give my pecker a tiny kiss before going into the bathroom to wash her hands.
"I believe that should keep you sated for a while," she said, trying not to smile.
"Yes," I told her.
"Wash yourself and get dressed," she instructed before leaving my bedroom.
True to her words, that little handjob had taken care of me. Even later in the day when Aunt Naomi and I were eating pizza for dinner, I wasn't very desirous of her. She even took advantage of my good mood to convince me to accompany her to the 6 PM evening church service.
When we returned home, I was torn. Should I try to proposition her for another liaison, or simply wait for her to come to me? I decided to take the latter option, thinking that if she wouldn't have me, then I could simply take care of myself.
One of the ladies from church had gifted us with an apple pie. Aunt Naomi had prepared a helping for the each of us, along with some vanilla ice cream. We sat in the living room and watched some movies on the Hallmark Channel that she had saved on the DVR.
When the clock read 10 PM, I decided to call it a night. I gave Aunt Naomi a small peck on the cheek and headed upstairs. Snuggled underneath my thick comforter with my belly full of dessert, I found myself too tired for sex and quickly fell asleep.
The next few days were surprisingly normal between us. I'm not sure what did it, but our relationship went back to what it had been before my uncle had died, except Aunt Naomi was now a lot more cordial. Perhaps it had been for the best that we had stopped our incest. With my mind not stuck on sex, I could focus more on more important things, like looking for a good college or a job once I had graduated. Maybe Aunt Naomi might even see fit to take part in some activities with my friends outside of church.
As a matter of fact, Mary Alice Gibson had invited me to a party at her parents' house. Not only did she attend my Christian school, but she also went to my church. It would be nice to have a nice time with people my age.
Mr. Larson, a friend of the family, was driving me home on Friday when I saw some guys carrying something large out of the house. My heart almost fell; the last time I had seen something like that was when the paramedics were wheeling my deceased uncle out of the house. Thankfully, as we neared the house, we saw that there was no ambulance, but a Rooms to Go truck. Aunt Naomi was standing in the doorway as the guys hauled what looked to be a mattress into their truck. After Mr. Larson had parked his pickup, we got out and walked towards the front door.
"Hey, Naomi," Mr. Larson said. "What's with all of the ruckus?"
"I went into town and decided to buy a new mattress," she explained. "The old one was ready to go and it reminded me too much of Randolph."
"That's understandable. Still, you should have let me help you. I could have hauled the thing for you and set it up. Would've saved you from paying for delivery and installation."
"That's very kind of you," Aunt Naomi said. "Would you like to stay for some hot apple cider?"
Mr. Larson took her up on the offer. The three of us sat in the kitchen for over an hour, talking about the goings-on in town and church. After his third mug of cider, he used the bathroom and took his leave.
"Aunt Naomi?"
"Yes?"
"You know Mary Alice Gibson from church, right?"
"Sandra's daughter? Yes, she's a sweet girl."
"Well...she invited me to a part...I mean...a get-together at her house next Friday. I was wondering if I could go."
She stopped washing the dishes and turned around to give me a furtive look. "You know I don't trust those parties that your friends throw. Will there be chaperones?"
"Her parents will be there," I assured her.
"I have Sandra's phone number from the church directory, so I'll know if you're lying," she warned. "As a matter of fact, I'll call her right now."
Before I could even protest, Aunt Naomi had conjured up both her cell phone and the church phone directory. My ears burned as I heard her conversing with Mary Alice's mother about the party, asking her very specific questions about the duration and the guest list. After a lengthy, interrogation, which had been disguised within the conversation, Aunt Naomi seemed somewhat satisfied.
"I guess I'll have to think about it," she said into the phone. "Okay. See you on Sunday."
"Thank you," I said after she hung up the phone.
"For what? I didn't say 'yes'."
"But you didn't say 'no' either."
"I'm not totally unreasonable, Benjamin. I'm only worried about your well-being. I think it's nice of you to have fun with people your age."
"Right," I said, rising from the kitchen table. "I'm going to finish up some homework so that I can enjoy my weekend."
"Before you do that," Aunt Naomi said. "I need you to help me with something. Follow me."
Wordlessly, I followed her upstairs and towards her bedroom. My heart began to pound as she turned the knob on her bedroom door and opened it. I followed her inside and looked around curiously; I rarely ventured into the master bedroom. When my late Uncle Randolph had become bedridden, this room doubled as a bedroom and hospital room. The only people who had been permitted inside were the home health nurses to assist Uncle Randolph.
"I need your help putting this fitted sheet over my new bed," Aunt Naomi said.
She picked up the bedcover and handed me one side of it. After a few minutes, we were able to fit it over her new mattress. Wordlessly, I helped her arrange the linens and pillows.
"Ah, very nice," Aunt Naomi said. "A new bed is just what I needed to brighten this place up. I think a good spring project would be to repaint the walls in this room."
"Good idea," I told her.
"Yes, well...you can go. Thank you for the help."
Aunt Naomi stared at me awkwardly in silence. I looked at the new bed and then back at her. Part of me really wanted to grab her, throw her onto the bed, and rip off her clothes, but I figured that it would be best for her to initiate. When she didn't, I slowly sauntered out of the bedroom.
I spent the next few days on my best behavior, wanting Aunt Naomi to be in the best mood possible when Friday came so that I could go to Mary Alice's party. My plan worked, and Aunt Naomi drove me to her house that Friday night. Not surprisingly, she made a point of walking into the house so that she could talk to Mrs. Gibson. Despite the overwhelming embarrassment that I felt, Aunt Naomi didn't make a scene. She peeked into the house to see a bunch of teenagers laughing and eating.
"Well, everything looks to be in order," Aunt Naomi said. "I'll pick you up later."
You could not imagine the relief I felt seeing her van leaving the driveway. I walked into the den with a smile and joined the party. I had been looking forward to this for weeks, and things were not disappointing. We ate pizza, played a few party games, and even tossed the football around in the yard.
The best part about it was talking to Elizabeth Dunn. With her golden hair and wide blue eyes, she looked like an angel. She seemed to be around everywhere I turned, but I didn't mind in the slightest. When Mary Alice turned on Moana for us to watch, she sidled up next to me so close that I could smell her perfume. When I dared to put my hand on her lap, she grabbed it, making my heart flutter.
"Ben, your aunt is here," I heard Mrs. Gibson whisper behind me.
Those words definitely killed the moment. I shrugged as I got up from my seat and exchanged farewells with my friends. I glanced over at the clock, seeing that it was barely 8:30 PM; I had been here roughly 2 hours.
After putting on my jacket, I walked outside to find Aunt Naomi parked in the driveway with the van running. Despite my ire at her picking me up so early from the party, I held my tongue on the ride home, merely remarking that I behaved myself and had a good time.
"Well, I think that went well," she said as we walked into the house. "I'm so glad that you have good Christian friends like that."
"Me, too," I muttered. "Good night."
"What? Off to bed already? It's a Friday."
"I'm tired," I lied. "Plus, I want to get a head start on my chores tomorrow."
She folded her arms and gave me a dour look. "I really hope you're not going upstairs to simply masturbate. Did the girls at that party get too friendly?"
"No, Aunt Naomi. Remember, we had chaperones."
"One chaperone can't see everything," she said, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Was it that Garcia girl, the one with the ample bosom? I should call her mother to suggest she wear something more wholesome at church."
"I'm not going to masturbate," I assured her. "Even if I was, you told me that it was fine as long as I didn't go overboard."
"True, but I feel like I need to take measures to make sure these girls aren't tempting you to lust. Go to my room, now."
Some of my resentment from having to leave the party early was somewhat gone. I walked upstairs and towards her bedroom, with her following close behind. Once inside, Aunt Naomi locked the door. I'm not sure why she did this, seeing as we were the only two people in the house. A wild thought entered my head: what if she didn't want me leaving?
I looked at the new bed, which was covered with her new linens, and saw Aunt Naomi start removing them. She folded the huge comforter and placed it on the armchair. She neatly put the pillows in a neat pile in the corner.
"I don't want us getting these dirty," she explained.
She then turned around and started to unbutton her blouse. I shouldn't have looked so eager, but I didn't care. I quickly removed my clothes and put them in a neat pile at the foot of the armchair. I turned around to see Aunt Naomi removing her bra to bare her tiny breasts to me. My dick swelled at the sight of her nipples and her eyes betrayed that they had noticed.I sat on the bed with my back against the headboard, watching as she pulled down her dress and underwear. I never tired of seeing that lush, dark brown forest of hair between her legs. She crawled into bed and knelt beside me.
"Well, do you want me to use my hands, or do you want to take me?" Aunt Naomi asked.
I had to admit, it was nice to be asked. I told Aunt Naomi that I wanted her to get on top of me. Try as she might to hide her arousal, her cheeks became a little rosy. She cleared her throat and crouched over me. She reached down with her right hand to steady my dick as she lowered herself onto it.
Our union felt as good as the first time we had been together. I was surprised to find that she was already wet. It made me wonder if she had planned this all along. Did she force me to leave the party early simply because she was horny? If so, then I wouldn't ruin the mood by asking her.
She exhaled as she completely took me inside of herself. I fought to suppress a smile as I watched her eyes flutter. She was close to losing it already. It looked as though she had worked herself up too much in anticipation for this. As for me, I was going to do my best to make this last as long as possible.
Aunt Naomi warbled as she started to ride me. I kept my eyes down and started at the juncture of our genitals. I never got tired of seeing my dick disappear into that bush of hers. She leaned forward and gripped the headboard, trying to steady herself as she used my dick to pleasure herself.
I turned my gaze upwards to state at her tiny chest. A random thought popped into my head: I bet Elizabeth Dunn had bigger breasts than Aunt Naomi. As a matter of fact, they were both blonde and slim, but Elizabeth definitely had more feminine curves than her.
I reached up and used my thumbs to play with Aunt Naomi's nipples. She had her mouth clamped open, but her jaw went slack as I toyed with her mammaries. I could feel her panting breath as she quickened her pace. I mercifully put my hands on her small waist, trying to give her nipples a break.
"Oh, yes!" Aunt Naomi groaned. "Ohhh, use me to dump all of your sperm!"
With a growl, I wrapped arms around her, and she responded by wrapping her legs around me. It was my turn to take the lead. I started thrusting up into her soggy slit.
Aunt Naomi bucked upon me like a cowgirl on a wild bull. I did my best to keep my thrusting in time with hers, but she was all over the place. I looked at her face and her eyes were shut, but she was clearly drowning in the pleasure of our tryst. I raked a hand up her sweaty back; she was so skinny that I could easily feel her spine. My hand soon found her hair, and gently grabbed a fistful, pulled her head back, and forced her lips to mine.
Her eyes opened with shock as I forced my tongue into her mouth. She brought both hands to my face and pushed it away. I relinquished my grip on her hair and smiled at her. My smile died as I saw the look of horror and disgust upon her face. Then came the familiar expression of fury that I had seen many times. Instinctively, I caught her hand as she tried to slap me.
As she fought to remove hand from my grasp, I rolled the two of us onto our sides and the two of us grappled with each other. It was a glorious combination of sex and wrestling, and I was definitely winning. As expected, I was on top of her in no time at all. I let go of her hands and she put them over her head.
I grabbed Aunt Naomi by the ankles and rammed my cock into her, channeling the fury of not being able to sit and enjoy the entire movie with Elizabeth. My aunt squealed with each thrust I put inside of her. Gone was her fighting spirit; she was simply by bed partner, my lover...mine.
"Oh, Aunt Naomi! I'm almost done!" I groaned.
"Yes!" Aunt Naomi cried. "End this, now! You need to!"
With her blessing, I released myself inside of her. After spurt number two, my dick accidentally popped out of her and I blessed her bush with some of my male cream. I didn't realize how much I liked the sight of my milky white juices against Aunt Naomi's pubic hair.
"Make sure you don't stain the bed," Aunt Naomi breathed up at me.
I looked at her, seeing her gasping for air with the back of her hand draped over her eyes. I cupped a hand under my rod, taking care to catch the remaining juices that I hadn't given to my aunt. Carefully, I removed myself from the bed and walked into the master bathroom. I grabbed a few squares of toilet paper and wiped my urethra clean of my semen. I pitched the toilet paper into the bathroom waste bin and turned to leave.
"Out of my way," Aunt Naomi grumbled.
She walked into the bathroom like I had, cupping her crotch. She sat down on the toilet, and I took that as my cue to leave. I guess this Friday night hadn't been so bad.
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