Neil, my twenty-four-year-old nephew's stay with me was coming to an end. My feelings were in part disappointment and sadness at his leaving but also relief that my life, especially the sexual side of it, could go back to normal, whatever that was.
The last few weeks of what I thought of as 'our involvement' rather than affair, were characterised by two things. A rather ridiculous white dress he'd bought me as a thank you present and my ass which was put to a consistent and full use during that time. Whilst the dress played a significant part in our relationship that wasn't due to any particular activity, but more because it just seemed to be involved in almost everything we did. My ass, on the other hand featured strongly in two very significant and truly momentous events.
Although I was still at times scared of Neil and always worried about what mood he might be in when I got home from work or a trip abroad, our relationship had settled down and I was, I had to admit, enjoying having him as my lodger and lover. In his former capacity he was no trouble at all as he was self-sufficient and in his latter as my lover, he was in some ways amazing. I found the latter description hard to acknowledge about one so young as him but, when travelling with time to think about things, I had to admit he really was just that. However, I didn't use the term loosely either. It was his imagination and the variety he brought to our affair that impressed me and persuaded me to describe him like that.
I never knew just what was going to happen, what he was going to be like, what he'd make me do and, most significantly, I suppose, what he would do to me. From the early 'tit show' through the 'finger rape' to the 'cunt big reveal' and the photographing of it to him deserting me as I readied myself to have sex with him, that first fuck, then the one in the car to the use of the butt plug for days on end, the stupid underwear he bought and very recently the blindfold and handcuffs, it was constant change and new adventures. Also, the actual sex was rarely the same twice and there was no risk of me getting bored as I had, I now realised, with Kevin where our regular twice, and very occasionally three, times a week sex followed a fairly set routine. With Neil, I never knew just what it would be like and it went from long languid, tender and loving sex, often on the couch or family room floor, with wonderful massages and foreplay to aggressive, rough stuff where I was pounded as I had never been before. That had brought something else out in me that I hadn't fully realised was there within me. As aggressive as he was towards me so I was back to him. I writhed my body more, I bit, scratched and slapped him and was more vigorous, noisy and squirming as he ate or fucked me. And of course he had the stamina of youth so that he rarely just fucked me once and usually did it a second time within minutes of the first and sometimes had me several more times.
Lately, he'd introduced some new aspects to our evenings at home. In addition to us occasionally undressing and cuddling up naked under a blanket on the couch and playing with each other before making tender and/or aggressive love, he'd recently started to get me to dress up for him. Also, we had started going out more, mainly to the local pub where I knew a few of the regulars who were aware that Neil was my visiting nephew and not my live-in toyboy lover. That was not the case, though, when we went further afield into a London restaurant, pub or, once or twice, club where I was hugely embarrassed by our twenty plus years age gap, just as I had been that fateful first time at Annabel's.
The dressing up revolved around him telling me what to wear when we were together at home and when I was at work or travelling. I resisted at first but gradually, as with most of the other deviant things he introduced me to, I relented. It didn't happen every day but once or twice a week just before we went to bed he'd follow me to the spare room that I used as my dressing room and would select what he wanted me to wear the next day at the agency. Usually that would include holdup stockings and either a thong or no panties, sometimes a bra usually one of the quarter cup ones he'd got me but now and then no underwear at all. After the first couple or so times when I was embarrassed, I got quite a kick in meetings with clients or colleagues, mainly men, with nothing on under my outer clothes or in those crotchless panties and quarter-cup bra he'd bought me. That kick was stronger when, usually, my breasts and inner thighs and sometimes my bum cheeks as well had fierce love bites on them and the situation was often also accompanied by him sending me messages and photos that he'd taken of me usually in hugely compromising positions. They had come from the other practice, photography, he'd introduced following that night when he made me put on my cunt show and he'd sneaked some extremely explicit shots. Recently, he hadn't used and I didn't need any, persuasion to pose for him in my underwear or naked because in all truthfulness, I got quite a kick from doing it.
I knew that overall I had acquiesced completely and I'd become his submissive. In my saner, calmer and more thoughtful moments I wondered what I would do and how I'd cope after he went home and I was alone but I thrust that from my mind and put it on the back burner whilst I enjoyed the present.
Also, he often told me what to wear when we were at home together for an afternoon, evening or day. His selections started with the long-held classic for most men of all black vamp's gear; bra, suspender belt, panties, stockings and heels. He knew that I had such stuff as I had worn it when he'd undressed me a couple of times but he didn't know what else I had so he demanded that I go through all my clothes with him. I was reluctant to let him do that at first, but thinking that he may well have done it when I was at work and he was at home carrying out his PhD research, I thought, 'What the hell?'
"Fuck Jayne this is such a turn on," he'd said as we looked at and he felt my dresses, skirts and tops adding when we got to my underwear, "But nowhere near what this is." Inevitably he found the two basques Kevin had bought me and the waspies I had treated myself to. As we delved deeper into my dressing room archives we came across stuff I'd forgotten I had. These included a leather mini skirt and top that he loved and a couple of quite outrageous dresses I'd worn at fancy dress, tarts and vicars themed parties where almost all of my tits were on show. He made me model each of these for him there and then, after which we had sex, and then wear each one for an entire evening during the following couple of weeks.
A few days after the handcuffed to the door incident, another parcel turned up that I knew nothing about. He was in Oxford at the time and when I unwrapped it I was surprised to find a white dress and some other stuff. Just as I was doing that I got a text from him telling me that he hoped I liked his thank you present for letting him stay with me and that he'd be leaving in about ten days or so to go back to the States to finish writing his thesis for the PhD. When he'd told me that I was rather distraught but, at the same time, relieved.
Unpacking the parcel I held the dress up and looked closely at it. It was sleeveless and fairly, but not outrageously, low at the neckline being more scooped than plunging so it wouldn't show too much of my boobs depending on how far the six inch or so long zip at the middle of the front was pulled down. If left fully up hardly any would show, pulled down half way a wide cleavage and lots of side boob were on show and all the way down, well then it was party time and all of both boobs would be flashed. As I looked at the dress the word frivolous came to mind and I thought that it was just so typical him. The only other garments were a pair of pale pink knickers and a similarly coloured thong. There was no bra. The knickers were full and high waisted so, from that perspective, they were quite modern and would avoid VPLs in tightish skirts or trousers and the thong was just about as tiny and flimsy as one can be. I picked the knickers up and held my hand inside them. Being made of a pink net they were as good as completely see through.
I'd hardly unpacked the dress when Neil phoned and asked if I'd received the parcel? When I told him I had and thanked him for it he told me to put it on with the big knickers and he'd be home in half hour or so. I assumed that he'd want sex almost as soon as he got home so I had a quick shower, did my hair and dressed as he'd ordered.
When I'd put the cotton dress on I saw that it was of a pretty high quality and was loose fitting in a classic A line style so it was snug around my bust but then flowed out to form the A line past my waist and hips. Whilst it showed the outline of my boobs it didn't cling to them but, when I moved the jiggle of each orb under the material was very obvious indeed. As, of course when the material was stretched, were the dark shadows of my areola with the strong protuberances in the centre trying hard, and largely succeeding I saw in the mirror, to make mountains out of the molehills. The most striking feature of the dress, though, was its hemline which was far more teenager than middle-ager in length!
Looking in the mirror and standing up straight, I saw that the hem of the skirt was about half-way between my knees and my panties. Turning around and bending forward, I saw that when I was at about forty-five degrees at the waist the knickers were still covered but when I leaned just a little further I flashed them quite clearly.
If his intention with the clothes and the mirror was to stimulate, excite and arouse me and make me even more amenable to him then it was working but, as usual, I didn't really understand why, although, now I had got used to that and hardly even tried thinking anything about him all the way through.
"Okay, I'm home come on down now," he called out shortly after I'd dressed as he'd ordered. Taking care in the silver, strappy four-inch heels I felt quite nervous going down the stairs as he called out, "Come into the family room."
With just the big, pink knickers on under the loose dress I felt vulnerable but very feminine and wanted. I realised it was an odd combination of feelings but it was a mixture I had been increasingly experiencing recently with him. I knew that my breasts were wobbling about as I walked down the stairs and that the hem of the short skirt was riding up as I moved so that I was showing loads of leg, I was pleased that they were quite tanned.
I was surprised that there were no lights on in the family room with the only source of light being from the hallway through the doorway. As I walked in, Neil came from behind the door and said, "Don't say or do anything other than what I tell you, got it?"
"Er yes, um sure," I replied seeing one of the dining-room, straight backed chairs was in the centre of the room.
"Right go and stand by the chair and wait."
Full of wondering what the hell this was all about I did as he said. He didn't say or do anything for a few moments that stretched out into what seemed like minutes making me impatient so I said. "Come on Neill stop messing about."
"I told you to just wait so do that and shut up-, okay?"
