Sunday mornings are not supposed to be noisy. But, this Lord’s Day morning I was
awakened by a loud voice speaking. Good god, that man was arguing again!
Uncle Joe was again berating and criticizing aunt Margie. The bad-tempered,
rough-talking bear of a man was acting like the bastardly beast that he was. His brusque,
gruff, gravelly voice carried all the way from the kitchen to my bedroom down the hall.
If ever there was a man deserving of a good beating, then my uncle Joe was it. My
father’s brother had none of the kinder, gentler qualities in his behavior or demeanor
that my dad and I had.
If ever there was a woman deserving of respectful compassion, then my aunt Margie
was it. As far as I was concerned, this dear woman epitomized all that is good and decent
in a person of the feminine gender.
I only knew a few of the particulars about how and why the two had come into a
state of matrimonial union. Orphaned as a teenager, aunt Margie had inherited her
birthplace farm and had married an older neighbor man. If I were to conjecture, I’d say it
must have been a "marriage of convenience" instead of love. In all the years I’d
known them, I’d never witnessed my uncle aim a kind word or gesture toward his wife. On
the other hand, I’d noticed repeated attempts by my aunt to engender kindness and love
from her husband.
At fifty-one, uncle Joe was seventeen years senior to his wife.
Throwing off my covers, I jumped out of bed, and stood at my bedroom window. My
eyes beheld the splendor and beauty of the rolling hills and pastures outside. This rural
southern farm was one of my favorite places to be. I was lucky enough to now be spending
the whole summer here while my missionary parents were abroad doing their "good
works."
A gust of early morning summer wind blew through my opened window and ruffled the
curtains. I had slept nude, so the breeze also tickled my pubic hairs and the tender flesh
of my fresh-outta-bed erection. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember a day when I
hadn’t awakened without a hard-on.
I was giving some serious thought to raising the window screen so I could jack-off
and shoot a load of early morning cum out onto God’s good green earth. This wouldn’t be
the first time I’d performed this wake-me-up morning ritual.
Hearing the back door slam, I knew it was uncle Joe. If that man ever raised a hand
to strike aunt Margie, I’d beat the shit out of him and hang the bastard’s ornery ass up
in a high oak tree!
In an attempt to put such thoughts aside, I went ahead and raised the screen. My
meaty teenaged erection settled into my hand. I suppose I was proud of the hefty size of
my cock, and I was just cocky enough to think I was as well-hung as any older man.
As I pumped my throbbing man-handle, I couldn’t help but worry a little about aunt
Margie. The woman was no physical match for her husband. My eyes saw her as a
delicately-petite female flower blooming under summer skies. If I were to guess, I’d say
she weighed no more than a hundred pounds and was not taller than five-two.
My wandering mind recalled some of the words to an old song I’d heard somewhere in
time. I believed it went something like, “five foot two, eyes of blue, oh but what those
five foot could do…has anybody seen my gal?”
Well hell, aunt Margie wasn’t "my gal", but I’ll admit that I’d often
wondered about the abundance of shapely curves hidden inside my blue-eyed aunt’s clothing.
Whether she wore dresses or jeans, she always had a look about her which inspired a bulge
to stretch the crotch of my pants.
This thinking about aunt Margie’s curves was raising the heat inside my bubbling
ball sack. My swollen erection summoned forth testicle fluids and began spewing them out
the open window in streams of thick, creamy cum. I allowed orgasmic gratification to steal
away my senses and give me joyous early morning pleasure.
In the midst of my thrills, my peripheral vision picked up a hint of movement.
There to my left, just across the room, a feminine figure stood in my open doorway. I
knew at once it was the lady who was five-foot-two with eyes of blue.
At the moment, those eyes of blue were staring at my elongated man-hose and the
streams of milky cream freely flowing from it. So mesmerized was she that she seemed not
to notice that I was now aware of her presence.
Why I didn’t immediately stop, I couldn’t say. Unbelievably, I didn’t even slow
down. While I continued my cock pumping, I saw that I wasn’t the only one caught up in
orgasmic ecstasy. The thin belt of the pale-blue morning robe aunt Margie had on was
untied, and the robe was open. She had on no bra. One of her hands was cupping a breast
with the fingers teasing an erect nipple. Another hand was buried within her white
panties. I knew her fingers were deep inside her vaginal opening because her panties were
stained with her pussy juices. Her body was shivering with orgasmic spasms.
I didn’t know that Sunday school teaching, church-going ladies did that! I didn’t
know that good Christian women masturbated! I certainly didn’t know my aunt Margie did!
I’d never even thought about the fact. But, I now knew my aunt did play with herself. I
knew for a fact she did because I was looking right at her doing it!
I milked my erection until I was dry and then flipped my cockshaft a few times to
get rid it of the last few drops of cum. Aunt Margie then noticed that I`d seen her. A
blush spread over her face, yet she didn’t stop masturbating until she was orgasmically
satisfied. After pulling a wet, cunt-soaked hand from her panties, my aunt turned toward
the door and disappeared from sight. Not one word had passed between us. What was there to
say?
Still naked, I walked down the hallway to the guest bathroom which had been set up
for me, so I could have some privacy. Perhaps I should have thought of coming to this room
for my cock-jerking party. Oh well, what was done was done.
After shaving, I ran a hot tub and took a long leisurely bath. This was to be a big
day. Aunt Margie would have a nice breakfast for me, and then she and I would head off for
Sunday school and church. Being the heathen he was uncle Joe would not be joining us.
This man had vowed never to darken the doorway of any kind of religious sanctuary. If
asked for my opinion, I’d say God would most likely kick the blasphemous bully’s ass back
outside anyway.
As I climbed out of the tub, my mind’s eye began seeing a picture of aunt Margie’s
lithe, summer-tanned body. I recalled the hypnotic beauty of the female form barely
visible beneath her opened robe. I remembered a glimpse of the breathtaking view of her
bra-less breasts and nipples. I saw a masturbating hand playing inside white panties.
With my imagination working in overdrive, I felt a familiar swelling between my
legs. My mind began having ungodly, sinful, coveting cravings for a woman who belonged to
another. If not for the fact that aunt Margie was waiting breakfast for me, I would have
stifled my lascivious lust by again beating my meat.
Attempting to ignore my frustrations, I left the bathroom and closed the door
behind me. I walked toward my room with my erect cock slapping my belly. I was thinking
about the jerking-off party I would have to have sometime after breakfast and before
church. Hell, I couldn’t walk into God’s holy house with an aunt-inspired erection
straining my pants!
Unbeknownst to me, aunt Margie had not been preparing breakfast. She too had been
taking a morning bath. Her bathroom door opened, and she came out into the hallway.
Unbelievably, my aunt was stark naked, the same as I was. She was drying her
shoulder-length hair with a towel. This woman had never before walked around naked in
front of me before today. She stopped to stare at me, and I stopped to stare at her.
Oh damn, I’d never imagined I’d ever see this woman naked! I couldn’t stop looking
at the mesmerizing sights before my eyes. aunt Margie had a short, petite body, yet her
feminine features were fully developed. Her twin breasts were the size and shape of
fully-ripened grapefruits. The nude nectarines seemed to offer an invitation to be
plucked.
I’d always been told that with age a woman’s breasts became victims of gravity.
They were supposed to sag and droop. I now believed I might have been misinformed about
these facts. Aunt Maggie’s breasts boldly stood as proud and beautiful decorative
ornaments upon her chest. Dark pink nipples, surrounded by silver-dollar-size pale pink
areolas completed the ornamentation. My aunt’s breasts were gorgeous!
My eyes strayed lower. Aunt Margie`s figure was trim and firm. My gaze settled on
the patch of hair between her shapely legs. I’d seen pictures in magazines of full-grown
women’s pussies. That’s where I’d first learned about pubic hair on a pussy. Well, now I
was seeing my first "real-life" mature woman’s pussy in all its fluffy, furry
glory!
I was not certain if I was pleased at the sight or not. With my limited knowledge
of pussies, I’d discovered I loved shaved, bare-nude, hairless pussy mounds best!
Yet, contrarily, I couldn’t take my eyes away from aunt Margie’s bushy pussy. Her
curly snatch of pubic hair added an air of exotic, erotic, feminine mystery to her
otherwise unblemished body. Silently, I wondered, What jewels and treasures lay concealed
within her shrouded female veil? Do I dare make an attempt at an unveiling?
I began wondering about how long aunt Margie and I were going to stand there
staring at each other. I could turn to my right and quickly enter my bedroom. Aunt Margie
could turn to her right and quickly enter hers. Yet, neither of us turned.
Finally, aunt Margie took a timid step toward me. She leaned close and spoke to me
in a muted whisper, “Johnny, I want to thank you so much for letting me watch you this
morning. Oh God, that was the most beautiful performance of masculine sex play I’ve ever
seen in my life! Believe it or not, but I’ve never even seen a young man’s naked body. I
married at a young age to a man much older than I. I didn’t know the male form could be so
solid and chiseled-hard. I had no idea my nephew’s penis was so handsomely developed in
both length and girth. In my opinion, any female would love to get a piece of what you
have!”
Embarrassed by her brazenness, aunt Margie blushed and became quiet for a minute.
Gathering courage, she then spoke again. “Johnny, you’re mature enough now to know the
truth about your uncle and why I’m so unhappy with him. I’ve never told this to anyone
else, but that man is a son-of-a-bitch who makes my life miserable! He has no sense of
humor. He’s always so melancholic and sullen. And, he’s not the least bit virile when it
comes to sex. To compensate for his shortcomings, he has been mistreating me badly. I mean
mentally, emotionally, and especially sexually. He has become a mean and vicious lover!”
After a brief pause, she added, “I sometimes hope and pray he will just go away and
leave me alone. I love children, and I’d love to have a baby, but I thank God every day
that I’ve never born the man a child!”
Aunt Margie stopped talking to wipe tears from her eyes. Unconsciously, I reached
out and she stepped into my arms. We were both keenly aware of our nudity, yet I held on
to her tightly. Her hands rested on my chest.
My masculine instinct recognized the agonized pain of a wounded woman. Misused and
abused, my aunt’s body and heart had been badly damaged. My intuitive, tender-hearted mind
compassionately wondered whether or not her female psyche had been injured beyond repair.
“Johnny,” aunt Margie’s breaking voice said. “I haven’t trusted a man in so long.
I’ve began losing my faith in men. This changed when you came here to stay last week. Your
presence is like a breath of fresh air. You are so full of life and mischievous merriment
it’s nearly impossible to remain despondent around you. "Your humor and inspiring
zest for life is so infectious that I’ve found myself laughing and singing for the first
time in forever. And now, this morning, I’ve discovered that I have a beautiful,
hard-bodied, virile male-creature living in my home! I guess this explains why I’ve been
walking around with an excited wetness inside my panties since you’ve been here.”
Before I had a chance to respond to this unexpected news, aunt Margie added, “For
the life of me Johnny, I can’t figure out what to do with you! I’m so jumpy and jittery, I
feel like a virginal schoolgirl with her first crush on a boy!”
“Aunt Margie,” my mischievous voice teased. “You are an adult woman with the wisdom
and maturity of age. So, my lady, you just go ahead and do whatever you want to do with
me. I’m a big boy, I can take it!”
Aunt Margie’s response was not what I expected. She didn’t call upon her good sense
to give her the wisdom to turn away from temptation. Instead, she turned her face up and
softly kissed my cheek. She then kissed my lips. This wasn’t the kind of kiss an aunt
gives to a nephew. It was a kiss a woman gives to a man. The kiss I gave back wasn’t meant
for a motherly-substitute aunt. It was the kiss of a man aroused by the allure of an
enticing female.
My kiss deepened as I poured my heart and soul into it. It was becoming a kiss
meant as comforting solace for an injured woman. I wondered if I was subconsciously trying
to atone for the sins of my uncle.
A recollection came to me as I held this woman’s soft, nude body tightly against
the rigidity of my muscular chest and loins. I recalled an article I’d read about sex. The
article made the claim that women reach their sexual peak in their mid-thirties and guys
reach their peak in their teens. I further recalled that aunt Margie was thirty-four while
I was just nineteen. Why did this information now come to my mind?
The impassioned kiss between aunt Margie and me became two and then three. I took a
step to my right bringing the seductive woman with me. We were in my bedroom. When I
closed the door, I locked out the world. I ordered decency and morality to vacate the
premises under the threat of a severe ass-kicking.
“Margie,” I said in a clear, strong voice, “this won’t work unless we drop the
‘aunt’ part! We must forget it, ignore it, and pretend the aunt-nephew relationship
doesn’t exist. Okay?”
A smile lit Margie’s radiant face. Her teasing answer was given with joyous jest,
“What relationship, Johnny? Why, good sir, I’m just a woman, and you are just a man!”
Margie sat on my bed, and I dropped to my knees between her legs. I kissed her
again. I had no idea if her mouth had ever been tongue-fucked before, but that’s what I
began doing to it. Whether she was experienced or just now instinctively learning, this
woman began tongue-fucking my mouth in return.
Taking my time, I moved slowly and gingerly. I reasoned that if I rushed I might
not allow forbidden temptation a chance to get a firm hold on our tenuous, newfound,
lust-inspired bond.
Reaching out, I cupped two proudly-displayed breasts with a gentle touch. As
Margie’s tits filled my hands, I gently massaged the magnificent mammary orbs. Swelling
nipples stiffened as my thumbs caressed them.
When I leaned over to capture one of the mature nubs in my mouth, I heard a moan of
delight. Inspired by this reaction, I captured the other erect nipple. I sucked with soft,
gentle pressure. My tongue made slow, lazy circles around and around. I heard sighs and
moans.
I juggled Peggy’s tittie-jugs up into the air with the skill of a circus performer.
I enthusiastically played with the firm, jiggly balloons. My lips joined in on the act and
frantically licked the warm boob flesh. My tit-hungry mouth sucked all around the circular
perimeter of the mountainous hills.
When my boob play was temporarily satisfied, I eased Margie to her back on my bed.
She made no resistance. She willingly helped as I spread her legs wide. I studied the
mysterious bush between her legs. I saw a forest of hair covering a magical, magnificent
pussy mound. Her pussy lips were puffed and the mounded flesh stood up graceful and proud.
Margie`s clit was easy to find. It was not completely hidden inside the outer pussy
lips. My ravenous mouth and tongue found it easily. I flicked it, licked it, and teased it
until it became stiff and erect.
The warm, tender ridge of the protruding clit was much like the tip of an iceberg.
There was much more below the surface. Spreading her pussy lips, I found the feminine
glory within! My mouth and tongue found a glorious abundance of tender vaginal flesh to
consume. I ate voraciously!
I was young, but I knew when sexual stimulation was causing exquisite pleasure. I
knew my oral massages were stirring Margie’s pussy passions. I knew she was forcing
herself not to cry out. She certainly didn’t want uncle Joe to know what was going on
under his roof. Even so, I heard impassioned whimpers and barely concealed cries.
I stopped for a moment and looked at my forbidden lover’s naked body. I spoke with
a new maturity, “Margie, if your husband is a son-of-a-bitch, he is also a goddamned-fool!
How could any man in his right mind not appreciate the magnificence of your sexy body? Why
woman, you’re smoking-hot and drop-dead gorgeous! I think you’re wonderful!”
Margie sat straight up in my bed, grabbed my head with both hands, and kissed me
passionately. I kissed her back. She then dropped to her knees on the floor and told me to
lie back on the bed. Without a second of hesitation, I obeyed her instructions.
“Johnny, dear,” Margie whispered. “You told me I could do anything I wanted to with
you. Did you mean it? Honey, I want to do something to you that your uncle has never let
me do to him. May I kiss your beautiful, rock-hard cock and maybe even suck it a little?”
Without awaiting my permission or consent, Margie moved into position between my
legs. She leaned over and kissed my engorged cockshaft. She kissed up and down the entire
swollen length of the steely-stiff rod. She pulled and tugged on my meaty erection.
Margie stood my rigid shaft up straight and closely inspected this object of her
desire. As soon as the cockhead filled her field of vision, she popped it into her mouth.
This woman was now the one with the voracious sex appetite. She seemed starved for a cock
to eat. She sucked my meat deep into her mouth. She licked and sucked with enthusiastic
zeal.
Good God, I’d never had my cock inside the mouth of a woman twice my age! Margie
might be an inexperienced cocksucker, but after years of oral man-meat deprival, she was
eagerly making up for lost time. This woman’s cock hunger was stealing away all of her
modest inhibitions.
Forgetting about the restrictive proprieties of forbidden sex, this cock-starved
female devoured my rigid erection. Margie was treating my cock like it might be some kind
of delicious edible treat. Her rapidly-licking tongue lapped at my flesh just like it was
a blood-engorged pulsating popsicle. Her bobbing mouth sucked as if she had a tasty
all-day sucker to consume. Her teeth began chewing as if she had a succulent meat-covered
bone to munch on.
I was admittedly proud of the heft and size of my cock, but I knew of its
limitations. There was no way in the world I could allow a female to eat me all day
without blowing the lid off my steaming seminal pot.
Grabbing Margie, I forced her to stop her frantic eating. I was ready to blow my
load any second, and she damn-well should know it!
| 
